Victory March

Emmeline was gripping her wand so tightly her knuckles were nearly white, and she couldn't stop her gaze from flickering in the direction of the rowdy Gryffindors every few minutes. She'd been dreading this day for about a week now, ever since the announcement that their classes would be combined was made, and the feeling had only intensified, coiling into an uncomfortable knot within the pit of her stomach.

They were all merely second years, and although the thought should have reassured her, it made her all the more nervous. There were so many things she didn't know, she was completely unprepared, and to top it off she was rather horrid at defensive spells. How could Professor Toothill expect them to duel?

No, she very well knew the answer to that. Everyone knew the Toothill family was probably one of the most exceptional in the wizarding world when it came to duelling, and had been for generations. The fact she wanted them to duel wasn't completely surprising, but it was still something Emmeline hadn't actually considered their being a possibility of. She'd thought they'd be learning about how to protect themselves from impish creatures, or one of the other topics in the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook her mother had spent a good sum on.

But apparently not. Apparently the teacher wanted to share what was little more than a hobby (at least in Emmeline's mind) with the rest of the class.

All she could hope was that she was paired up with someone she could easily defeat.

“You look like you're going to throw up.” A voice suddenly said, rather loudly, rousing her from her thoughts. Emmeline glanced over, her eyes meeting the familiar gaze of Bertram Aubrey. His expression was serious, and unfortunately his voice had a habit of carrying, causing a couple of other Ravenclaws to glance back at them, before inching away slightly. Emmeline's hand shot out, whacking him softly in the ribcage as her cheeks pinkened. How humiliating.

“Don't say things like that so loudly!” She hissed, at that moment (and not for the first time) wishing that Bertram would just leave her alone. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy his company occasionally, and it wasn't as though she didn't consider him a friend. She just wished she had more less embarrassing friends sometimes. Or even other friends. Either one would be nice, in her mind.

Rolling his dull blue eyes, he threw an arm around her shoulders carelessly. He had a good three or four inches on her, and had discovered it rather easy to sling it around her. Attempting to shrug him off, Emmeline huffed softly as she realized it her efforts were futile. He was too strong, and too large for her to do much of anything about it. Grinning down at her, he pointed using the hand he had wrapped around her, and she followed his finger until she caught sight of Professor Toothill walking towards them.

The sickeningly thin witch wore a tight smile that made her cheeks look a little too tight, and her skin a little too taut. Her nose was pointed, and her eyes were dark and small. Bertram pointed out on their first day of class that she looked like an overgrown pixie, and Emmeline couldn't help but agree. She looked over the students briefly, her gaze both excited and calculating at the same time, before she finally spoke.

“Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm particularly excited for our lesson today. How about we jump right into it, hm?” She asked, hardly pausing a beat before launching into her 'lesson'. Emmeline thought she was pleasant enough, but far too wrapped up within her own interests. “Now, I'm going to require two students to help demonstrate for the rest of us.” Her gaze scanned the Gryffindor crowd, before landing on two students whose heads were close together, invested in a hushed conversation. Professor Toothill's smile tightened even more, if possible, before she spoke. “Mr. Black, thank you for volunteering.”

Both of the students looked up, and Emmeline recognized them vaguely as James Potter, and Sirius Black. She didn't know them personally, but she's heard plenty of them and their little posse already. Sirius Black looked irritated for a moment, before leaning in and murmuring something to James, and then both boys grinned.

“Any day now, Mr. Black.” Toothill remarked, lifting her eyebrows pointedly. Sirius Black looked like your average twelve year old- Emmeline bet he was hardly taller than herself, although his shaggy dark hair was in dire need of a haircut, and he wore the same sort of smile most kids from pureblood families seemed to share. Emmeline was unimpressed though, and merely returned her gaze to the professor, instantly regretting it as their gazes met. Toothill smiled at her, kindly enough. “Miss Vance! Perfect! Hurry up here, dear, we haven't got all day!”

Emmeline couldn't move for a brief moment. She'd been dreading duelling day enough, but having to go up in front of the entire class to demonstrate was even worse. She tried to convey just how much she'd rather not with her expression, but Professor Toothill merely smiled on. Oblivious as ever, Emmeline thought bitterly. In one last desperate attempt for help, or reassurance, or just something that would make the nervous knot within her stomach disappear, she glanced up at Bertram, who merely laughed aloud at her.

“If you're going to throw up, wait until you get up there in front of everyone, okay?” He jested, although he said it loudly enough so that many of the students around them snickered. As Emmeline walked slowly up to the front of the class, she made a mental list of every awful word she knew, so that she could let Bertram know exactly what she thought of him as soon as she was finished. She dragged her feet as she approached Professor Toothill and Sirius, her cheeks burning. Her stomach was uneasy, and... what if she did throw up? Blasted Bertram, she'd curse him to Romania and back after this.

She stopped once she reached her professor and opponent, who glanced at her only briefly before turning his light gaze back towards his fellow Gryffindors. He looked determined, but more than that, he looked smug. As though just by one simple glance, he could tell that he was already going to win.

Toothill spoke loudly now, so that everyone could hear. “Your goal is simple. Using what you know, you're going to use magic – and only magic – to defeat your opponent. Your goal is to win, not to injure, so choose your spells wisely if you intend on getting a good grade. Now, in a formal duel, you'd need a second. Can anyone tell me why this is?” She asked, although as soon as she'd finished the question a voice called out from amongst the crowd.

“To act as a replacement if needed.” Bertram called out, sounding as though he'd read the answer right from some sort of dueling textbook. He earned a curt nod from the professor. She was a stickler for raising hands, which was something Bertram had never had the patience to do. He smirked, pleased with himself, and Emmeline rolled her eyes.

“Precisely. So, Mr. Black, Miss Vance, choose your seconds.” Toothill demanded, the unfaltering smile still in place.

“James.” Sirius stated immediately, and his friend grinned as he made his way through the crowd, earning a clap or two on the back from some of the guys around him, as though it were some sort of big feat. Emmeline would never understand boys.

“Bert.” Emmeline mumbled, more for lack of a better second. He truly was one of her only friends, and today she wished more than ever she'd made more. He'd already known she was going to choose him, and the confident grin he wore as he approached her only confirmed that. Once he was by her side, and James and Sirius were ready, Professor Toothill began speaking again.

“Now, you two stand to the side,” Toothill paused briefly, waiting for the aforementioned seconds to step aside before continuing, “And now our duelist will approach one another, and bow to show their respect for one another.”

Emmeline gave the professor a pleading sidelong glance, mentally begging her not to make her bow to the cocky boy before her. When it became obvious the older woman would show her no mercy, Emmeline sighed, and leaned froward in a curt bow. When she rose, Sirius merely gave her a short nod. Toothill gave him a look, but he still didn't make any move to bow to her, and it only made Emmeline dislike him all the more.

Her mind worked quickly as her anxiety was building, and she was certain within that moment that she would make a fool of herself. She was wonderful when it came to Charms, but she'd never had need to practice many defensive spells. She couldn't imagine being able to win while hardly knowing how to protect herself.

Her legs felt heavy as she proceeded to turn, and walk a safe distance away from him before the professor ordered her to turn once more. The combined classes were silent as they watched, and she imagined they'd all be eager to get their chance to cast hexes on one another without any repercussions. Facing Sirius, she met his gaze, and couldn’t shake the feeling he was staring right through her. She was nothing to him. He knew he would win.

“Now, when I give the order, I want you both to begin...” Toothill instructed, before growing silent, more than likely trying to increase the tension. His gaze made Emmeline feel even smaller than she had before. He knew nothing of her, and already found her to be a poor opponent. Was it because she was a girl? Was it her house? What was it about her that told him he had a right to be smug, even before they'd even started? She saw him throw another complacent grin in James Potter's direction, and she hated it. She pointed her wand directly at him, and he positioned his wand in a manner that, while cool looking, would make it more difficult to flick his wrist.

Her cheeks had grown pink whilst feeling the intensity of the other students gazes on them. All of them were watching. If she lost, in would be in front of everyone. Bertram. Her housemates. Sirius Black. James Potter. The Gryffindors. Her professor. She might have been a Ravenclaw, but she felt particularly dumb at that moment, her mind completely blank. She couldn't do this. She wasn't smart enough, nor strong enough. Powerful enough.

“Destroy him, Emme!” The noise startled her, having expected Toothill to give them the okay, but instead it was Bertram's voice, shouting at her despite being well within hearing distance. He was instantly shushed, and Toothill took a moment to scold the boy, but it had been enough. Bertram's words filled her with a sudden unexpected lightness, as if the nerves coiled within her suddenly unraveled.

“Now!”

As soon as the professor spoke, Emmeline hardly had to think before her wand was swishing, and words seemed to pour from her mouth on their own.

“Expelliarmus!” She shouted, watching as his wand flew just barely out of reach. For a spell she'd never used before, she hadn't done so bad. He stared at her momentarily, his expression both a little surprised and annoyed, before he gathered his wits and reached for his wand quickly. Emmeline gave him a moment, not feeling it was fair to attack while he was unarmed. He launched a spell back at her as soon as his hand reached it.

“Locomotor Mortis!” Sirius called out, and she momentarily debated between attempting to think up a defensive spell or trying to get out of the way, but by the time she'd come to the decision to move she was struck, and literally couldn't move. Her legs were literally locked together, and wouldn't budge. She couldn't think up the counter curse, despite being positive she knew it. She could see he was ready to send another spell her way, and knew she had to move quickly.

“Petrificus Totalus!” She launched the spell hurriedly, nearly fumbling the words, and watched as his entire body seemed to freeze, arms and legs at his side stiffening, reminding her of a guard standing at attention. She felt his gray eyes on her, and could feel the animosity in his gaze as he realized there really was no way out of it. It wasn't until Bertram started clapping, and her house joined in with cheerful hollers that she realized she'd won. A surge of happiness shot through her, and she glanced over at the professor with a grin. Her legs were still locked, but the professor hurriedly freed both of them from their bindings.

Emmeline wasted no time in hurrying back to join the rest of her class, feeling Bertram following close behind. A couple students congratulated her, and others began calling out to Professor Toothill, begging to go next.

“I knew you could do it.” Bertram said, leaning down so that she could hear him over the other students hollering. He ruffled her hair in the way he sometimes did when he was trying to act brotherly, and Emmeline merely shoved his hand away, although she flashed him a proud smile.

She couldn't stop herself from glancing back over in the direction of the Gryffindors. She caught sight of Sirius surrounded by a small group of three boys, looking less than thrilled. She recognized the boys, one being James Potter, though the other two she couldn't quite recall the names of. They all looked nearly as pleased as she felt, although admittedly a little more ornery.

He glanced her direction then, his gray eyes catching her dark gaze. He seemed to study her for a moment, and while normally she might have been uncomfortable by the intensity of his gaze, she found herself feeling more satisfied, than anything. He was looking at her, rather than through her, and it made Emmeline feel a little less small than she had before. He tore his gaze away shortly after, though, smiling slightly as he murmured something softly to the three boys. Whatever he said made one of the boys glance her way, and she could see his amused expression falter slightly.

While the possibility of her being talked about made her uncomfortable, Emmeline brushed it off, returning her attention to Professor Toothill, who had begun pairing up sets of students to alternate as duelists and seconds. She'd have more important things to worry about than the gossip of a sore loser.