Nodding, Daphne said, "Tracey's right. We'd all know by now, if it was him. At least, those of us in Slytherin. Malfoy couldn't keep a secret that big if his life depended on it."
Seeing the dejected look on Hermione's face she said, "But, Polyjuice Potion was a good idea if Malfoy actually could keep a secret. He'd have told Crabbe and Goyle, for sure. We need that sort of thinking to solve this."
November faded into December and the Seven were beginning to look forward to going home for Christmas.
However, the week before they were due to leave, a notice appeared in the Entrance Hall. A duelling club was starting up. The first 'meet' was to be held that evening at 8.00pm. "They're starting a Duelling Club!" said Seamus Finnegan, a Second Year Gryffindor. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons - they might come in handy one of these days."
"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" asked Neville back. But he, too, read the sign with interest.
"It could be useful," he said to the others as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"
The others were all for it. So, at eight o'clock that evening, they hurried back to the Great Hall.
The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited. "I wonder who'll be teaching us?" asked Hermione, as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Harry said Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young. Maybe it'll be him."
"As long as it's not..." began Harry, before he ended on a groan.
Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I, myself, have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling, himself, and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron Weasley muttered to someone from behind Harry and the others. Harry just snorted and rolled his eyes.
Snape's upper lip was curling.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed. At least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands; whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.
"One - two - three!"
Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent. Snape cried, "Expelliarmus!"
There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers. "He may be a liar but he's still a person."
"Who cares?" said Harry and Neville together. Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform.
"That was a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape. But, if you don't mind my saying, to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."
Snape was looking murderous. Possibly, Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come among you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."
They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry
"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "The rest of you, go find other partners. Potter..."
Harry moved automatically toward Daphne.
"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Harry Potter. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner Miss Bulstrode." Daphne looked a little murderous at Snape but went off to find a partner of her own.
Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked Bulstrode. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.
"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"
Harry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.
"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - Only to disarm them - We don't want any accidents. One two - three!"
Harry swung his wand high, but Malfoy had already started on "two".
His spell would have hit Harry if he hadn't quickly sidestepped. He stumbled, but didn't twist anything. Wasting no more time, Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "Rictusempra!"
A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees. Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing.
Harry hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to bewitch Malfoy while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake. Gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, and choked, "Tarantallegra!" and the next second Harry's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep. He wasn't prepared for such an underhanded tactic. "Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.
"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted.
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