Participants:
| Scene Title | Not Real Dueling |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Showing up at the DADA classroom to find Professor Moody, Ronald Weasley runs into something else. Slytherins! |
| Location | Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom |
| Date | October 19, 1994 |
| Watch For | "Oh come on, I didn't poison it or anything! What would be the point?" |
| Logger | Ron |
During one of her few free-periods during the day, Siobhan sequesters herself in the empty DADA classroom. Chairs and tables are pushed to the side, and several dummies are set up on the opposite end of the room. Light flashes through the room, different colors dancing through the air as she casts spell after spell at the dummies. It seems though, that isn't the whole point, for after several spells - and seemingly at random intervals - the dummies fire her spells back at her, prompting the hasty erection of different types of shielding spells. It seems that she must have been at this a long time, for her robes are discarded on a chair - in favor of Muggle clothes - and there's a fine sheen of sweat on her brow.
Rushing down the hallways of Hogwarts, jumping over the sinking step in the staircase, and finally emerging on the first floor of the castle, Ronald Weasley hurries towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He wants to get there as soon as he can so he can talk to the professor (and maybe get him to accept a late assignment, hopefully.) He bursts into the classroom, coming to a stop once he's inside the door, leaning over with his hands on his knees so he can take deep breaths to get some oxygen back to his head, and generally take a small breather. "Professor Moody," he says, looking up towards the desk— only to find the professor is gone. He looks around the rest of the classroom, spotting Siobhan, and giving a little start. "Oh— sorry— just looking for the professor."
Startled by Ron's sudden appearance, Siobhan is late in erecting the necessary shield spell. It's up in time to save her from the spell itself, but she's knocked back on her arse from the backlash of her own spell. "He's not here at the moment." You know, in case that wasn't obvious. Standing, she brushes herself off and stretches. "You need somethin'?" Before she can answer, another spell is fired in her direction. This one, however, she is ready for. Dropping into a half-crouch, she reflects the purple light back onto the dummy.
When Siobhan is knocked down by the spell fired at her, the youngest Weasley son gives another start, raising a foot to take a step in her direction, but then he falters. He looks compeltely undecisive for the moment, as if trying to decide whether he should help her up or not (after all, it looks like it was his fault she got knocked down) but by the time he can even make a decision, she's back on her feet. "I was going to see if I could turn an essay in," Ron replies, watching as the purple light fires from the dummy, and then bounces right back to it. "Do you know where he is or when he'll be back?" he continues, turning his eyes back to Siobhan.
"Early or late?" Siobhan's sentences are short, but there's an amiable friendliness to her voice. Firing off another three spells, she keeps one eye on the dummies, though she does turn more towards Ron. "I dunno actually." Two spells come at her in quick succession. Making a snap decision, she doesn't block either one, but rather rolls to dodge them both. "I came in to practice and found the room empty." So she doesn't really have permission to be here either; go figure.
"Late," Ron says, eyes dropping to the floor in slight embarassment. But then, Ron being punctual with anything related to schoolwork would come as a surprise to anyone who knew the Gryffindor. And then if he didn't stay up so late playing Wizard's Chess, or generally ignoring things he SHOULD be doing, maybe he wouldn't have to turn it in late. He'll learn one day! "What are you practicing?" he says, curious as he watches her fire spells back and forth between the dummies. It looks beyond what he knows.
"Shield spells, mate. Shield spells." Sparing a glance - and grin - over the the younger student, Siobhan misses another reflected spell, ducking only just in time. "The theory goes right over my head, so I just have to learn this way." Which, considering she's in Advanced Defensive /Theory/, may not be the most…rule-abiding or level-headed way to go about things. Two more spells are fired off, then a third comes after a moment of thought. "You wanna try it?"
The youngest Weasley son takes a glance around the room, thinking to himself. Sit here and practice spells, or go and do more homework? …. yup, he's going to practice spells. "Sure," he says, moving to a nearby table and depositing his pack onto it, throwing his rolled up parchment down on top of it. Withdrawing his wand from inside of his robes, he moves to stand on Siobhan's side of the room, but making sure to keep out of the way of the dummies firing range for now.
With a bright, rather contagious smile, Siobhan turns to her new partner with barely containeed excitement. Bouncing up on the balls of her feet, she pushes hair out of her face. "Which shield spells have you learned so far?" Firing back before she's quite ready, the dummy shoots two simultaneous spells. Rather than take her chances, Siobhan conjures a shield large enough to protect them both, but drops it as soon as the danger is past. Another wave of her wand pauses the dummy's action, so she can at least have this conversation in peace.
The door to the classroom opens slowly, and Crane enters, turning around to close it (he's obviously as of yet unaware of the presence of the other two). The Fifth Year is carrying his bookbag, although that is dropped almost immediately by the entryway; when he hears the sound of the spells and Siobhan's voice, he spins on his heel and blinks his cool blue eyes in surprise. Apparently he's not the only one who was looking to get in some spell practice today in his free time. "Well.. feeling especially social today, are we, Bubbles?" Smirking, the dark-haired boy takes another step into the room, although he pauses to look Ron over skeptically. "Am I interrupting a first date here?"
"Well—" Ron says, hesitating for a few moments. "We did a bit of dueling in second year but… I haven't really learned any shield spells. I've heard about them, but I haven't really tried them." Judging by how old Siobhan looks, it's safe to say she's at least a year or two higher than him, and has a greater magical knowledge. "I…" he begins, but is cut off by the arrival of someone else. "Bloody hell," he mutters under his breath. Someone else to watch him fail impressively at shield charms when he tries them. Caught offguard by his last comment, Ron's eyes narrow and he shakes his head slowly, giving Crane a skeptical look of his own in return. "No, we were just about to start practicing."
"Hullo Birdbrain," Siobhan returns amicably, offering the new arrival a smile. "So have you gotten to Protego yet?" Being a seventh-year has its definite advantages. Crane's snide comment earns him a smirk. Stepping closer to Ron, she slides her arm around his waist and plants a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Oh come on now, sweetheart, don't be ashamed. Just because I have a thing for younger men doesn't mean there's anything /wrong/ with our love…" So earnest is she in face and voice that it's very hard to tell if she's serious or not. Still, there's a dancing light in her brown eyes as she gazes 'adoringly' at Ron that invites him to play along, should he understand. "I'm just making sure my boyfriend won't get his arse handed to him the next time he winds up in trouble." Oh yes, the school talks, boys, and Siobhan is always in the middle of the gossip.
At first, Ron doesn't really know how to react to the fact Siobhan is kissing him on the cheek, her arm around his waist. He certainly can't help the blush that begins to creep into his cheeks (after all a GIRL is kissing him— one that he hardly knows!), and his mouth just sort of drops open at the fact. He manages to recover (not as quickly as he should, of course), and turns his head towards Crane, giving him a slight nod. "Yeah… yeah," he says, falling silent after that. He isn't sure what they're practicing. Truth is he has no bloody clue what's going on in this classroom. It's all rather surreal.
"Yeah, you have learned Protego?" Siobhan repeats her question with only a hint of her actual impatience. She wants to move! With a shrug to Crane, she nods towards the dummies, arm still around Ron's waist. "Practicing shield spells and evasive maneuvers with some reflective-charmed targets. You want to join us?" Actually, with this many people… "Or we could practice against each other? I know I could use the practice…" She grins between the two of them. "You two against me. Whaddaya say?"
"Sounds just ducky," Crane says, smiling wryly and tapping the point of his wand against his chin for a few seconds. He briefly examines the two others before snickering and walking in the direction opposite them, then turns once he's at the other end of the room. "Weasley, care to join me? If you can tear yourself away from your sweetheart, that is." He smirks, but doesn't really seem as if he's being particularly unfriendly. While waiting, he leans back against the wall next to one of the dummies, glancing over at it after a moment and lifting his wand to draw a curly moustache on its blank face.
"Protego, no, I really don't…" Ron begins, but trails off. He was saying yes to the fact he's supposed to be her 'boyfriend', but he wasn't exactly verbal about it. He's still greatly confused, and all he wanted to do was see if he could turn a paper in late. Somehow he's been roped into this. Oh well. Might as well go with it, right? "Sure," the youngest Weasley son responds to Crane, extracting himself from Siobhan's arm and making his way across the classroom. If he's quite honest with himself, he's a little scared. Both of these people are older than him and have a greater knowledge of spells than him. It's more than likely he's going to get knocked to the floor. Repeatedly.
With a grin that seems to sit /just/ this side of manic, Siobhan disentangles herself from Ron and moves to stand on the opposite side of the room from where Crane has drawn a moustache on her practice dummy. "Then I'd suggest you attack and let Birdbrain here handle shielding the two of you." Siobhan debates for a moment offering to teach him said spell, but since he didn't ask, decides to leave it. This will be more fun anyway. "Ready?" she asks, dropping into a half crouch. Let's start simple, yes? "Bombarda!" Not the most orthodox use for a spell, but hey, whatever works, right?
Crane glances over at Ron once he settles into place beside him, leans over to whisper something to him, and then turns his attention to Siobhan. She doesn't seem to waste any time getting to business, which is just as well as far as he's concerned. He's ready for this first spell ahead of time, and instantly flicks his wand to one side in an almost-nonchalant motion, making sure that he's standing just a bit ahead of the Gryffindor so the spell doesn't rebound into /him/ instead. "Protego." There's a slight fizzling noise, but the shield holds nicely.
Crane whispers: Use 'Reducto' on that desk just in front of her, if you know it.
There's a small nod in response to Crane's whisper to him, and Ron visibly gulps. This is going to be bad. He probably should have just said no when asked to practice, because then he could already be back up to the Gryffindor Common Room, settling in for a nice… well, study session with Hermione, more than likely. Which is better than dueling with a couple of older students. He can still try, though! Pointing his wand directly at the desk in front of Siobhan, he shouts out "Reducto!" and… one of the legs of the desk turns to ashes, but not much more than that.
With a nod to Crane for his well-played shield, Siobhan waits for Ron - or the other Slytherin - to try something. When the redhead's attempt produces no more than an ashen table leg, it takes the blonde a bit by surprise. For a beat, she blinks at the missing limb, but shaking herself, Sio's natural grin returns. "That's all right! Can't tell you how many times I've done that. Have another go!" That said, she doesn't attack again, this time. Really, with Crane as her opponent, she should probably know better…
Crane can't help but snigger slightly as the leg of the desk is scorched into oblivion. At least he wasn't actually aiming at Siobhan when he did that! While he imagines that the Seventh Year probably intends for /Ron/ to give it another try, he's a pragmatic sort, and figures he might as well help his 'teammate' out a bit. Stepping back slightly, the Slytherin aims his wand squarely at Siobhan. "Periculum!" Almost immediately, a huge shower of red sparks starts to flare out of the end of the wand directly at her. Harmless, surely, but it can't be easy to see anything through that..
The redheaded Gryffindor raises his wand again, pointing it at the desk. He mumbles something, although it isn't clear what, and he begins to wave his wand in the direction needed— but suddenly stops himself short as Crane sends a huge shower of red sparks out in the direction of Siobhan. Granted, they may be in Slytherin's house, but if Siobhan can't see… there's no way Ron is going to attack. Besides, he can't really see the table all that well either, and it's better safe than sorry. He doesn't want to accidentally blast one of Siobhan's legs off, or something to that effect. He gets into enough trouble as it is.
Blinded, Siobhan's first reaction is to duck and cover, but maybe their own tactic could work against them. Aiming in their…general direction, she swishes her wand arm and darts forward. "Everte Statum!" she calls firmly, praying that she aimed at least…somewhere close to her targets. It's a good thing Ron felt a sense of chivalry, because any spell of his she couldn't see to shield.
"Weasley, what are you do—" Crane doesn't have time to finish his outraged complaint about the Gryffindor's lack of decisive action, becuase by now Siobhan is hurling a curse of her own at them. Because he was busy /actually doing something useful/, he doesn't have time to both cut his own spell short and start a shield. What he does have time to do is come up with Plan B. And since he does /not/ fancy being slammed into a very hard stone wall, he steps directly in front of Ron, letting the spell hit him squarely in the chest to send him flying backwards. Gryffindors apparently might not make very good dueling partners, but at least they might make good cushions.
"She can't see, can she!" Ron calls back to Crane, a very 'THIS IS OBVIOUS' tone to his voice. "I'm not going to—" He cuts himself short as he hears Siobhan calling another spell out, and in the small amount of time he has to react, he takes a step backwards, raising his wand to attempt to cast a shield charm. Crane suddenly blocks his view however, and Ron yells again. "Oi, get out of the way!" Of course, Ron's idea of getting out of the way is moving to the side, not suddenly flying back and slamming into him. He gets smashed between Crane and the stone wall, acting how exactly what his role in Plan B is supposed to be. A cushion. "Bloody hell!" he says as he hits the hard stone, his wand luckily staying out of the path of danger and avoiding being snapped in two.
Cursing under her breath, Siobhan ducks down and rushes forward, dropping to kneel next to the two boys. "Well that was stupid, wasn't it?" she snaps waspishly, but she looks worried, checking both boys for obvious injuries. "You've gotta take every advantage you get, mate. Cause no one you're fightin's gonna stop just 'cause /you/ can't see." Sounding exasperated, she's nevertheless impressed by the thought /behind/ the action, if not the action itself. "Besides," she adds with a cheeky grin. "I thought you only fought fair if your opponent /wasn't/ Slytherin."
"Oof," Crane half-breathes as the pair of them smash into the wall. Luckily he hardly feels the effects, unlike Ron, so as soon as he finishes disentangling himself he stands and points his wand at Siobhan again. When it becomes apparent that she's no longer going to attack, however, he lowers it and casually brushes off the front of his robes, glancing over at the Gryffindor boy with an apologetic smirk. "Sorry about that, Weasley, but I figured it would be better if at least /one/ of us could keep fighting. In a real dueling situation, I mean." He smirks and extends a hand to the squashed Fourth Year to try and help him back into a steady position.
"Not a real dueling situation," Ron breathes as he pushes himself back up, taking Crane's hand at the last possible second. Granted, he probably should have kept cursing. After all, they are Slytherins, and it would have been nice to get a few jabs on Gryffindor's rival house, but considering they're older than him.. well, he'll just keep the rivalry between their own year for now. Too bad Malfoy wasn't in here, he could curse him all night. Once he's on his feet, he wobbles for a bit, placing a hand on the wall to help steady himself. "Maybe we should call it done."
Shooting Crane a mildly withering look, Siobhan makes sure that Ron gets on his feet before standing herself. Sharp brown eyes note the wobbly stance and so she darts for her bag - hidden by her robes on a chair near the door. From its depths, she pulls a small vial, checking its color before returning and handing it over to the fourth-year. "Here, this'll help." It's only a mild Pepper-Up, something he might recognize from his visits to Madame Pomfrey. "You hurt anywhere?" Slytherin she may be, but Siobhan is a bit protective as well. Turning to Crane, she narrows her eyes. "In a /real/ dueling situation, Crane, I'd expect you to /protect/ a weaker partner, not use him." Ahh… Sometimes Siobhan is such a /bad/ Slytherin…
While he hardly seems predisposed to be concerned about Ron /too/ much, Crane does examine the younger boy as well to make certain that nothing seems to be broken. But once he's established that there don't seem to be any serious injuries, he glances down at Siobhan, his lips twisting up just a little bit at her chastising. "You might, Bubbles. But I'm afraid I'm just not quite that sentimental." He doesn't really seem too bothered by her obvious annoyance at him, but he does turn back to Ron and nod once. "Weasley's being sporting about it, though. You should come play a couple games of Quidditch with my friends and I one of these days after class, if you're bored. It's Ron, isn't it?" Understandably it would be difficult for him to know, since most of the names he catches are surnames - when Snape is deducting points from people.
Hand still on the wall to keep himself steady, he takes the small vial from Siobhan, eyeing it cautiously. They are Slytherins. This could all be some sort of setup! Recognizing that it's nothing more than mild Pepper-Up, he begins to pop the stopper off of the top of it. "I hurt everywhere, a bit," Ron replies to Siobhan. "Not too much, though." Looking over to Crane, there's the smallest of snorts from Ron, and he gives him a small nod. "Sure, why not," he says. As for his name? "It's Ron, yeah."
With a sheepish sort of blush, Siobhan raises a hand to rub at the back of her neck. "Well, I can't do much for that. Episkey only does so much, yeah? Still…" She trails off and stares into the middle distance over his shoulder. "That…should help." Even her voice seems distracted now. After a moment, she shakes herself from whatever thoughts plagued her and frowns at the redhead. "Oh come on, I didn't /poison/ it or anything! What would be the point?"
Noting the Gryffindor's obvious distrust of the proferred potion, Crane snickers lightly and shakes his head. "Bubbles here isn't really the one you have to worry about spiking your pumpkin juice, mate. That would be St. Claire. Or Malfoy." Or himself, although he won't add that here, for the sake of diplomacy. "Ron, then. I'm Crane," He continues, looking over at the area they'd smashed into to make sure nothing got knocked over. Of course, there /is/ a three-legged desk now sitting in the middle of the class threatening to fall over. The Slytherin shuffles over to it and mutters a quick 'Reparo' so that Moody doesn't have anything to go ballistic about the next time class begins.
An exasperated Hermione comes into view of the classroom, glancing in only as a cursory sort of way. However, once she sees Ron with the two Slyherins, she stops dead in her tracks and eyes the entire group. "Ron?" Warily, she takes a step into the room. "I've been looking everywhere for you." Her sharp eyes didn't miss the messed up desk that Crane waves his wand to repair. "Harry wanted to talk to you." Noting the vial he has, she frowns. "What is that?"
"It's fine," Ron says, just about to drink the Pepper-Up potion when she says she didn't poison it. He takes another look at the vial, glancing up at Crane when he offers the same advice, just in different words. He slowly raises it to his lips, but then another voice breaks in, and when he spots Hermione, he quickly hides the vial. At the same time, he stands straight up. He's not hurt, not at all. But he quite obviously is, and it's even easier to spot when he hunces back over, hand moving up to his chest. "Pepper Up potion," he says, managing a weak smile for Hermione.
Noting the interruption, Siobhan turns to spot a familiar face in the doorway. Although, she would be hard pressed to find a face in this castle that was /un/familiar. "Hullo, Hermione," she calls over with a smile. "Come to collect your third Musketeer?" At least with the younger witch, Siobhan's Muggle references have someone who understands them. She doesn't appear guilty or upset by the added person. "We were just practicing a bit of dueling. The two boys versus me. Feel up to evening the odds?" Even though the offer is extended with real sincerity, there's a sense that Sio doesn't really expect Hermione to accept.
Once the desk is repaired, Crane straightens himself up and glances over to the doorway just in time to see Hermione appear. He arches a brow at her and merely watches the goings-on with a vaguely-interested expression. Though he does perk up a little at the mention of re-starting the duel with all four of them - now /that/ could be interesting. Especially since he's heard that the Gryffindor girl is supposed to be some kind of freak of nature when it comes to spells. The Musketeers comment actually produces a smirk from him, and he steps closer to the other three. "You two 'Musketeers' ought to accept - might be fun. And I'll settle for being Rochefort."
"You're duelling?" Hermione gives Ron a look mixed with confusion and exasperation. "There were technically four Musketeers in the Dumas novel," she gives Siobhan as an aside. "But I'm not here to collect him. I was just looking for him to pass on a message. I didn't mean to interrupt anything. And if Ron needs Pepper Up potion, then I somehow doubt it would even up the odds for me to join." She doesn't mean it in a snooty way. It just…comes out that way without her meaning for it to. "Someone could get hurt or hex something off."
As Hermione and the others speak, Ron looks back and forth between them. "What the bloody hell is a musketeer?" he says, wincing slightly, and the look he gives Hermione is pretty clear. COLLECT ME. "It's okay," Ron says to the other two, quickly downing the Pepper-Up potion and handing the vial back to Siobhan, "no more dueling for me. Thanks for the lesson, though." He takes his hand from the wall, and slips his wand back into his robes, before making his way to the front of the classroom to collect his things.
Shocked - honestly shocked - at the witch's response, Siobhan gapes at her a minute before planting hands on her hips and getting a rather fierce expression on her face; a bit like an irritated hyena. "We're not /using/ those kinds of spells," she snaps. Just because she's a Slytherin doesn't mean there's automatically Dark Magic involved. Fully prepared to carry through with further arguments, Sio is entirely deflated when Ron makes such a quick departure. Accepting the vial back without even really grasping that she has it, Siobhan watches the boy collect his things and for a moment, there's an expression of honest hurt on her face. She didn't mean anything /bad/ by this… Still, she /is/ a Slytherin. Rather than allow her emotions to ooze out willy-nilly, she collects herself, a mask of cool anger settling around her shoulders. Her things are much nearer than his, and so it is with much less effort that she gathers them and leaves. Sorry Crane, she's forgotten you're even here.
Huh. Crane merely watches this display, both of the distrust from the Gryffindor and Siobhan's reaction, with an air of someone observing a rather interesting documentary on the history channel. He looks between Hermione and Ron, shrugging indifferently to himself, and then follows the older Slytherin out of the classroom with a slight chuckle.
At Siobhan's shock, Hermione merely raises an eyebrow. "You don't need Dark Magic to hex anything off. Harry's bones all disappeared from his arm because Professor Lockhart messed up a spell. And Ron vomited slugs for a whole day because he wand backfired." Poor Ron, she doesn't realize she's emasculating him. "It doesn't take much for magic to backfire and you find you've hexed off someone's eyebrows. And you don't need to say 'Crucio' to achieve it." As the redhead gathers her things, she looks between to the two Slytherins as they leave. Once they're alone, she rolls her eyes. "Really, what a drama queen. All I said is that she could get hurt. I guess next time I'll just let them both hex their limbs off and call in Madam Pomfrey."
Stuffing the rolled up parchment lying on top of his bag into one of the pockets, he slings it over his shoulder as Hermione and the Slytherins exchange closing remarks. He winces as he does, but not as bad as before. It seems the pepper up potion is beginning to work its magic. "Remind me not to duel with Slytherins who are years above us," he says to Hermione as he turns around, heading towards the door. "I'm going to the Common Room," he continues, in a deflated sort of voice, heading through the door. "Tired." He does pause just outside of the entrance though to wait for his bushy-haired friend.