Chapter 9

Lunch that day was a quiet affair, as it turned out. It might have been expected that after Imogen's triumph in Potions, there would be celebration, laughter and congratulations. But as Imogen had learned repeatedly during her first days at Hogwarts, there was a certain randomness to events. Usually it was some act by Imogen that would change the course of things to come, but on this occasion, immediately after Potions class, it had been Malfoy who was the unwitting agent of change.

Lavender had missed potions altogether - she'd been in the infirmary, her nose bleeding profusely after trying one of Fred and George's concoctions. Madame Pomfrey had set her right soon enough, but she had preferred to skip Snape's class, and now regretted it bitterly. She was now seated at the Gryffindor table near Imogen and the others, and was hearing a first-hand account of Imogen's impressive display of multiple potion making. But that was only the beginning of the tale, as it had turned out. The more interesting story had occurred in the hall outside of potions class. She listened as Hermione explained the events that followed Potions:

After observing Imogen's work, Snape had hastened to exit the class, leaving the students to see themselves out. After gathering her things, Imogen joined Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione (having taken Imogen's speech to heart) was walking next to Ron as they headed for the door, listening to his sad tale of potion making with Neville. Harry picked up Imogen's book bag filled with heavy cauldrons, and walked with Imogen out of the classroom and down the hall. They didn't get very far before they were interrupted by Malfoy's mocking voice. Why he was in such a mood not immediately obvious - he'd done well enough in class that day, so there was no immediate reason for him to lash out. But maybe it had been the sight of Imogen's performance that had made him so angry - a girl who only a few weeks earlier had known nothing, and now she had earned rare praise indeed from the Potions master. Perhaps it was bad enough for Malfoy always to have been shown up by Granger, and now here was another Gryffindor girl to demonstrate her superiority over him. Whatever the reason, Malfoy needed to give vent to his ill temper, and so he was with his usual crowd, waiting for Imogen and the others when they turned a corner, heading for the stairs out of the dungeon. He observed Harry carrying Imogen's books and walking next to her, inspiring him to make a not particularly clever observation.

"Done with Weasley, are you now, mudblood?", he asked Imogen. "Taking up with Potter now?" He turned to acknowledge the admiring laughter of his followers, and was far too slow reacting to Goyle's warning shout, turning back just in time to be rocked by Imogen's powerful slap to his face. He had been jerking his head backwards in an effort to avoid the blow, and the force of the slap and his own movement combined to push him backwards with great force. He struck his head on a slightly protruding brick in the wall, pain exploding inside him and bringing him to his knees. In an instant all the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the hallway had their wands out, ready to start fighting at the slightest sign from any of them. Each group waited at bay as Malfoy slowly got to his feet, dominated by two competing sensations - pain from the blow, and shame for having been easily overcome by a girl.

"Mudblood bitch, if you want to fight me, you'll do it the way we wizards do, not muggles. We duel tonight. My wand against your wand. Crabbe and Goyle will call on your seconds to make arrangements. Who acts for you?" he demanded.

"Ron and Hermione," said Imogen, unafraid. "Do send an owl to your father straight away - he'll be so proud, knowing that you're the first Malfoy in generations to defend the family name - and against a first-year girl, no less."

Malfoy tried to hurl himself at her. Imogen made no effort to retreat, but Goyle wrapped his arms around Malfoy and dragged him back. When Malfoy found he could trust himself to speak, he said, "You'd better pray your curses are as good as your potions." With that, Malfoy turned with as much dignity as he could muster, and walked down the hall, angrily shaking off Pansy Parkinson's hand when she made as if to help him.

At the Gryffindor table that lunch, Lavender Brown listened to Hermione's account of the incident, damning herself angrily. "Why did I skip Potions today of all days? I would have done anything to witness that!"

Ron interrupted them. "Flitwick's coming to the table - everyone shut up!" But as it turned out, there was no need for them to try to conceal the incident from the Charms professor.

"I've just seen Goyle. I understand there's to be a duel tonight." Imogen acknowledged that this was the case.

"Very silly of Malfoy demanding satisfaction in the formal way, as if he were a grown up and not a student," observed Flitwick. "it's years since we had a duel at Hogwarts - in fact it was your brother Charlie that issued the challenge on that occasion, was it not, Mr. Weasley?" Ron acknowledged this was so. Flitwick then continued. "Yes, it's been a long time since anyone saw fit to issue a formal challenge - wand against wand. Imogen, finish up your lunch quickly and then see me in my office with your seconds. I need to explain how duels work." Flitwick was certainly no stranger to duels. In his day, he had fought far more than most wizards. Eventually it was common knowledge that any remark about his diminutive stature was a quick ticket to a meeting with a very determined and skilled opponent.

Hermione spoke up. "But professor, surely they're not really going to duel - that's such nonsense - no one duels!" She did not see Ron shaking her head in contradiction.

"I must go," replied Flitwick. "But your friends at the table will tell you a bit about how things work."

"What's he talking about?" exclaimed Hermione. Harry had no idea, and it fell to Ron to answer her.

"Hermione, please don't take this the wrong way, but there are some things about the wizarding world that aren't really taught at Hogwarts, and aren't in a book - you'd need to be raised in a wizarding family to know. Duelling's one of them. I guess in the muggle world they don't duel, but they sure do in the wizarding world. And Flitwick's one of the best - he's been out more than pretty well anyone. Imogen struck Malfoy in public, and she drew blood - I saw it myself on Draco's hand after he touched the back of his head. And he challenged her, and she accepted. There'll be a duel, alright."

"But what if Imogen just says no? Then there's no duel!"

"Yes, that's true. But then her wand will be taken from her to be broken in half by Malfoy. And she won't be allowed another," replied Ron. "She'll be out of Hogwarts right after that." Hermione was preparing a tirade about how stupid and childish this all was, with Harry getting ready to second her, when Imogen spoke up.

"I'm not exactly helpless, you know. Let's just get it over with, so that I can get on with my studying." Imogen started to dig in to her lunch, showing no sign of a loss of appetite. But it was all show, for inside she was utterly, utterly terrified. She had come very far over the last two weeks, but she knew that she was no match at all for an average fifth year student, and surely she was completely outclassed by one who doubtless had been secretly trained in the dark arts by his evil family. But she did not want her friends to be distressed. Perhaps if she could induce calm in them, this might help calm herself. After a few bites of her meal, she stood up.

"Hermione, Ron - let's go, if you don't mind. I really want to hear what Professor Flitwick has to say." The three of them got up, leaving Harry with the other Gryffindors. Harry struggled not to be angry that he had not been picked as Imogen's second. He'd been right next to her when the incident happened, and he had more duelling experience than anyone else around. He'd only duelled twice, it was true - but the first time was with Malfoy. And the second duel was with Voldemort only a few months ago, and the fact Harry was alive was not all luck. Imogen knew all this, yet she had not chosen him - she'd instantly opted for Ron and Hermione instead. Perhaps he'd find out the reason soon enough.

"Come in," squeeked Professor Flitwick. Hermione, Ron and Imogen came into his office, sitting only when invited to do so.

"I have not much time," said the Charms professor, "so please don't interrupt - save any questions for the end. The rules on duelling are simple. Unforgivable curses are of course right out. And you and Malfoy are not permitted to duel to the death, either. You can use any spell you can think of, provided that it cannot do permanent injury. I'm not so sure about Malfoy, but I doubt that you know any curses that would be forbidden in a duel. But for form's sake, I am handing you a list of the only curses that I will allow in this duel. I'm worried that Malfoy, lacking experience in duelling, might have a poor appreciation of what curses are permitted and which curses aren't. And so I am using my authority as the arbiter of this duel to reduce to twenty the number of curses permitted." He handed Imogen a list. "You must have this list memorized before the duel, and Malfoy the same. Should either of you use a curse outside of the list, the duel is over - instantly - and the rule breaker shall be declared the loser.

"You will be at the Quidditch pitch this evening, exactly one hour after dinner, with your seconds. I will be there, along with Madam Pomfrey. The reason the duel is at the Quidditch pitch is that anyone is free to attend - and you can expect that most of the school will turn out. It's not like a Quidditch match - no calling out or cheering or anything like that once the fighting begins. Any questions?"

Imogen spoke up.

"Professor, if someone loses a duel, what does it mean - just that they lost? Is that it?"

"No. The loser will have to humbly beg the winner's pardon. Before all who witnessed the insult that provoked the duel, and anyone else who happens to be in attendance watching the duel."

Imogen laughed. "There's not the slightest chance Malfoy would ever beg my pardon - how could you possibly make him, even if I'm lucky enough to win, which I doubt?"

"If you're the winner, Malfoy will beg your pardon, or he'll never hold a wand again. And the same for you. The loser of a duel must apologize, or be expelled from our community. That's the ancient way - the custom since our ways were first written down, and probably for a long time before that."

"And how do you decide if someone's the winner?", asked Imogen.

"A wizard loses a duel when he surrenders, or when he can no longer can defend himself, usually because he cannot control his wand. Or when a second surrenders on behalf of his or her principle. That's actually a large part of a second's role - to give in when their principle is too proud to do so. Friendships sometimes do not survive that. And that reminds me. Imogen - please, do not be too proud. Yes, Malfoy is not allowed to use curses which do permanent harm, but that leaves him a lot of room. I would hate to see you too badly damaged. Malfoy is a very experienced young wizard. He is a member of the dueling club I run, and I doubt there are more than a handful of students at Hogwarts who could fight him on equal terms. You are very brave to take him on, but it would be best if you did not let things go to far. I speak from experience, and I have your best interests at heart."

These words were very sobering indeed, and after the three Gryffindors took their leave of the Charms Professor, they walked down the hall in sombre silence. Harry was waiting for them outside, and Hermione told him what Professor Flitwick had told them about the duel, her excellent memory allowing her to repeat his instructions almost verbatim. Harry asked to see the list of acceptable curses given to Imogen, and quickly reviewed it. Then he turned to Ron.

"Flitwick says your brother Charlie fought a duel here. Tell me everything you know about it."

"Charlie didn't talk about it much, so what I know I got from Fred and George. It was like this. Charlie and his opponent - some idiot from Slytherin, of course - squared off one hundred yards apart. At the signal to start, they were free blast away. They were also required to advance towards a line at a walking pace, firing curses as they went, if they so chose. It's hard to hit an opponent at that distance, and most wizards wait until they reach their line, ten yards from the opponent's line. Once you're at the line, you stay there, or within a yard or so of it. You can move along the line, but you can't retreat - not unless you want to be declared the loser. If you're knocked far back, you have to get up and toe the line, and then the duel starts again."