Summary: Someone needs to be reminded how duels work...and Quidditch practice!

Chapter 6: A Duel and Practice

Malfoy was a moron. That was literally the only way to explain his behavior, as far as Harry was concerned. Even being arrogant and entitled wouldn't help explain why he'd gotten incensed enough to challenge Harry to a duel and then expect to be able to set the terms. As the challenged individual, Harry had accepted…and then calmly sought out Flitwick at the staff table. Pandora had told him about Flitwick's dueling career, even shown him one of Euphemia's memories of having seen a championship match featuring the man. So it had been a bit of a no-brainer who to go to. The half-goblin professor had been taken aback for a few moments, but then cheerfully agreed to referee a match for them the following day.

Which is how Harry found himself standing across from an unreasonably confident looking Draco Malfoy, in a dueling room that Harry hadn't known existed, with a couple of dozen curious onlookers loitering around. Including, Harry noticed, all of the Slytherin first years. Several of them were looking not at Harry, but at Draco, with predatory glints in their eyes. Somehow, Harry thought that Malfoy's position in Slytherin was less secure than the blonde ponce thought it was. If Harry won…

Of course, Harry had no idea if he could win. Sure, he'd been practicing a handful of dueling spells religiously for the last few weeks. But Draco was a pureblood, one who had presumably been taught a fair bit of magic before ever setting foot in Hogwarts. For all that Harry wanted to dismiss him, it was possible that the annoying prick might have the practical experience that Harry himself lacked. Still, at least it would let him take the blonde's measure in a low-risk environment, even if the idea of losing didn't exactly sit well with Harry.

The 11:00 o'clock dueling time agreed upon came and Flitwick stepped between them. Speaking in a slightly more serious voice than usual…but still an irrepressibly cheerful one.

"Very well, gentleman! This duel will adhere to the Under-17 international league rules. I trust both of you studied them last night, as I suggested?"

Draco and Harry both nodded, so Flickwick continued.

"Excellent! If either of you violates the rules, I will step in and end the duel, with the immediate loss of the rule breaker. With that in mind…bow."

Harry bowed shallowly, Draco barely even moving his head in a clear insult. Flitwick frowned, but continued.

"Very well. Rules are too incapacitation or removal from the dueling platform. You may begin when the light touches the ground."

Flitwick stepped back, his wand flicking out. A red ball of drifting light left his wand and slowly descended between them.

Harry didn't bother to watch it. Figuring he'd need every advantage he could get, he let Pandora track it, focusing instead on the yellow light right in the center of Draco's chest that she'd put up the moment the flare spell began to drop. It was the same targeting light she used for his practice, an idea they'd worked out last night to give him a small edge. He knew she was tracking the flare spell herself and that yellow light would turn green the moment the flare touched the ground.

Second later, the yellow light blinked green, and he was moving the instant it did. To his chagrin, Draco had started moving first, bending the rules by beginning a wand motion but not finishing it before the flare touched. Malfoy managed to get the first spell off as a result, despite having to speak his spells. Thankfully, Harry had managed to switch his spell at the last moment. He couldn't manage a full shield-charm yet…but he could manage the Deflection Charm, which created a short-lived field that pulled low-level charms and hexes wide.

It worked against the leg-locker spell Malfoy had fired, dragging in clear of Harry…and the idiot had clearly expected his half-cheat to work, not having followed up. Harry, on the other hand, flowed with practiced precision from the ending flick of the Deflection Charm into the Jelly Legs Jinx. The simple spell hit and Malfoy stumbled sideways, barely being missed by Harry's follow-up Disarming Charm. Malfoy managed to fire into the gap, a tongue-tying curse that nearly startled Harry into not dodging. He just barely avoided it, utterly incredulous at the spell choice. Did Malfoy not realize Harry wasn't speaking his spells?

Malfoy dove to the floor in response Harry returning fire with the same spell…and then was blasted off the platform mid-fall by a simple Push. It wasn't even a proper spell, just a directed bit of magical force that Harry found hilariously easy to pull off, given his experience with intent and wandless magic. It was, in fact, so instinctive that Harry actually blinked in shock that it had worked, even as a loud pop and flash from Flitwick's wand formally ended the duel.

"Winner, Harry Potter! And a most excellently fought duel for a pair of new first years!"

The professor was beaming at him as the victory sunk in for Harry. Slowly, his own smile stretched his face in response as it did sink in. He'd won!

"Thank you, Professor. I appreciate you refereeing for us!"

"Of course, Mr. Potter! And do stop in at my office before your next charms class! I've noticed you've been quite bored in class so far. With today's display, I feel completely comfortable giving you a spell or two you can work on outside the class's regular curriculum!"

Harry gaped for a moment, then smiled even more hugely.

"Thanks, Professor! I will!"

...

Harry was sweating as he rolled over into a steep dive, flattening his body down and pushing his Cleansweep-7 to its limits, accelerating after the glint of gold he'd spotted hovering near Katie's ear. The blonde saw him coming and barrel rolled out of his path with wide eyes, spinning mid-air to yell at him…only to cheer instead as she spotted the Snitch in Harry's hand. The cheer was nice, though Harry suspected it had more to do with it being Harry's third, and Oliver having declared that they'd only end the practice after Harry managed that number. Indeed, Harry fought a grin as he saw a half-cross, half-excited looking Oliver Wood heading down from the hoops, signaling the others in. Angelina was the last down, having needed to corral the Quaffle from a bad pass, and their captain spoke up once she joined them.

"Well, practice was a bit shorter than I'd intended, I'm tempted to have us run some more physical drills to…"

Oliver yelped as he ducked the Quaffle that had nearly taken him in the face. He raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine! Fine! You can all thank Harry for being too bloody good! We can cut practice short this time…though I think next time I'll make it five catches, not three."

Alicia was quick to retort.

"Go ahead, Captain! The rate he's improving, that will just make the next practice shorter!"

That won a cheer from the rest of team, even Oliver, as Harry blushed.

"Hear, hear!" added Fred. "We're going to flatten Slytherin in the first game!"

"They aren't going to know what hit them!" added his brother.

Harry yelped a second later as Katie tackled him, hanging on like a Kola as she ruffled his hair.

"You said it! And if he doesn't see the snitch, he can just give them all heart-attacks by playing chicken with them!"

That won a new round of laugher, as Harry was already getting a reputation of bulldozing players if he saw the snitch, despite not even playing their first game yet. Harry was just glad that the comment and laughter gave an excuse for his blush. He was most certainly not immune to the effects of puberty, and the feeling of Katie's modest chest squishing into his back was enough to cause certain reactions, despite the tight leathers that acted as chaser armor. Thankfully, she detached from him as the laughter died down. Equally thankfully, he'd discovered his limited metamorph abilities were good enough to help…redirect…blood flow. Which, given the shared locker room and all three girl's tendency to prance into it in nothing but a towel after their showers, was proving an extremely valuable social survival ability…

Social crisis temporarily averted, Harry firmly ignored Pandora's giggling and suggestive commentary, following the others as the headed to the team's locker rooms. Katie fell into step with him, chatting excitedly about that last catch, even as Harry felt a warm glow at her easy-going acceptance. His inclusion on the Quidditch team was already helping to alleviate the social isolation he'd been feeling…and so was the unexpected outreach of a few of the Slytherin students after Malfoy lost his duel. So far, he wouldn't call any of them 'friends,' so much as 'potential allies.' But even the need to carefully maneuver through the politics surround Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, and Blaise Zabini was a positive change. That need, along with the handful of more challenging spells first Flitwick and then McGonagall had offered him in the wake of the duel, were providing him with the challenge that had been utterly lacking since the start of term.

He racked his Cleansweep in the Team Storage, along with the others, as they all entered the locker rooms. All of the brooms were alumni-purchased and donated, with a discount from the Cleansweep company. An arrangement that insured all Hogwarts Teams were equally matched in equipment and forced to compete purely on skill. It did mean that he couldn't just take it out for a casual fly…but it was still a relief that he hadn't needed to purchase his own broom. Preparing for some of the projects he wanted to do this year had bitten deeply into his finances until next year, when his trust vault would refill and the profits from a few investments would hit his parents vault. The latter had been an unexpected boon, as he'd discovered he had access to a percentage of it's contents, now that he'd turned thirteen. Sadly, that vault had mostly held personal belongings, rather than money. Not that Harry was about to complain, given that things like his parents' journals and other effects were honestly more important to him personally than a bit more gold could or would ever be.

Harry was brought back to the present when a jersey hit his face, accompanied by a giggle. He pulled it away, spluttering, then blushed as he caught sight of his giggling female teammates disappearing into the showers in only their underthings. Harry quickly spun away and worked on his own armor, not having been quick enough to fight off the reaction all three of them caused, this time. Sure, they'd been wearing althethic shorts and the wizard equivalent of sports bras. But they were still ski tight and he was still a thirteen year old male…

It did not help that Pandora had taken to 'helpfully' adding their measurements to his HUD whenever something like this happened…