Imogen
Chapter 35

Copyright© 2010 by you know who

"What a pretty tiara," said Ginny, picking up the crown from where it lay on the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. It was dinner time, and the enchanted ceiling mimicked the black, cloud-filled sky. The tables were lit by numerous candles, and the jewelled tiara sparkled in the warm glow.

"I'm sure I look charmingly regal," continued Ginny. "What do you think?" she added, turning to Harry as the others at the table smiled at her indulgently.

"You look great," said Harry. "You make the diadem look much better than it is. But you'd best take it off. It wouldn't do to display a horcrux in front of everyone."

Ginny tore the loathsome object from her head, all the Weasley brothers and a few others nearby laughing at her reaction.

"You could have told me!" she said accusingly.

"I did tell you."

"You know what I mean. You're getting as bad as my brothers. Ron, you're a very bad influence on Harry." But Ron was having none of this.

"Yeah, sure. You can't get mad at Harry, so you're going to have a go at me instead."

"You're right, Ron," said Ginny. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you." She reached for her wand, but George summoned it from her grasp before she could do any harm.

"Be nice now, everyone," said George. "Let's have a pleasant dinner without anyone getting cursed or charmed or jinxed. Ginny, you'll get your wand back once dinner's over and after you've said 'Please may I have my wand back' in a tone of deep respect."

"How did you get it, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"It was simple enough. After all, Imogen told us all about the Horcruxes and where to find them. And the easiest of them all to get is of course is the Ravenclaw Diadem. So during a spare today, I popped into the Room of Requirement and retrieved it. We have to destroy it, of course. Such a shame, because it is so nice. But on the other hand, it will be fun destroying a piece of Voldemort's soul. Maybe we should desecrate it first."

"I think we should burn it right after dueling club tonight," said Imogen. "No point in waiting."

"Should we draw lots for the honour?" asked Harry.

"I don't think so," said Ron. "I don't know the Fiendfyre curse, and that how it's supposed be destroyed, according to Imogen."

"Any volunteers?" asked Harry. "I have to admit that Fiendfyre is not one of those curses I'd been planning to learn any time soon." It was no surprise to Harry that Fred and George both raised their hands.

"Good," he said. "We'll burn it all right. But not after dueling club, Imogen. Tactically, that's not the best idea. First of all, we'd have to sneak out of the school. Easy enough I suppose. But still. Then, once we're out and we start a blaze, it will be seen for miles around, especially with the flames being reflected off the snow and the clouds. It will be a beacon and attract loads of attention. Instead, I think we should head out tomorrow at lunch time, dig a pit and start the fire in there. If we are caught, we can make up an excuse of some kind."

"A barbeque?" said Imogen. "Like we were making s'mores?"

"Making what?" asked Hermione.

"S'mores - you know - those things you make with marshmallows... " But Hermione had no idea what Imogen was talking about, nor did anyone else.

"I sometimes wonder where you got your vocabulary from," said Harry. "The other day you called Ron a 'stupid hoser', whatever that is. Today it's 'smores'. Are you just making this stuff up? As I was saying, we can make up an excuse of some kind, if we're caught. But if we do it in the daytime, we probably will get away with it easily enough. I'll keep the diadem with me the rest of the day, but I can't bring it to dueling club - not into a classroom full of Slytherins. Any volunteers to miss dueling club to guard it? It's a big sacrifice, because tonight's the first meeting since the return of the Draco the Disinherited. It should be a fun meeting. He's dueling club champion, and the first item of business will be my challenge of him."

"That's a lot to miss," said Ron. "Instead of asking for a volunteer on this one, maybe we should draw lots."

Hermione pulled a scrap piece of parchment from her bag, and after she tore it into pieces, Harry's friends each wrote their name down on the piece Hermione gave them. Imogen passed over her hat.

"Put the pieces in my toque," she said. "My hat, I mean," she added hastily in response to the looks she got. "Then Harry can draw the so-called winner."

Neville, the Weasleys, Hermione, Imogen and Angelina all contributed their names to the hat, after which Harry shook it vigorously.

"Ok," he said. "Here goes." He stuck his hand slowly into the hat. "Last time something like this was done at Hogwarts it was the Triwizard tournament, and the so-called lucky winners almost got killed. Let's hope the winner doesn't have such a tough time."

Harry pulled his hand out of the hat, clutching a single scrap of parchment between his fingers. He opened it slowly, and then read it. He passed it to his closest friend.

"Sorry, Ron," said Harry consolingly. "Looks like your it."

"Damn," said Ron. "I was really looking forward to watching you blast Mal - I mean the boy formerly known as Malfoy. But do me a favour - hit him with the 'Eat Slugs' curse, ok?"

"I don't think that one's allowed," replied Harry. "But don't worry - by the time we're done he'll know he's been cursed."


"But you can't refuse Harry's challenge, Draco," said Flitwick, aghast at the boy's breach of protocol, and in a most unwizard-like, cowardly way, too. "The club champion has to accept a challenge - you simply cannot decline."

"I can't decline, and I can't accept," said Draco with a seemingly sly smile. "I simply can't respond. After all, the challenge is not directed at me. I'm not dueling club champion. I ceased being champion when I lost the duel to Imogen. If you look at the dueling charter, you'll see I'm right."

"Accio dueling charter," said Flitwick. He waved his wand again to open the door, just in time as the aged parchment came sailing into the classroom, falling neatly into his waiting hand. Unscrolling the yellowed document, Flitwick peered at it myopically. He read the applicable clauses several times to be sure.

"You're right, Draco. Imogen defeated you in a duel, and is unbeaten since then. The charter was written seven hundred years ago, when every student was required to learn dueling and the dueling club consisted of the entire student body. If someone duels and beats the champion, that person is the new champion whether they're in the club or not. Odd that you would know of this, Draco. Very odd." It was obvious what Flitwick was thinking: Draco was a coward, and had been looking for a way to avoid dueling Potter.

 
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