At this time of night, the London Courthouse was virtually deserted. Aside from a handful of clerks, there was only a single magistrate with his auror attendants present. Sir Edward Bones, the current official in residence, had just affixed his seal ring to the red wax binding up his nightly report when the front doors were loudly shoved open.
He blinked, processing the sight before him. A trio of young gentlemen, easily distinguishable as purebloods from the upper crust of society by their appearance and haughty demeanor, directly preceded by a dark-haired young man of a less easily determined station. His boots were clean but well-worn and quite scuffed, his robes plain black.
The quartet crossed the flagstone entrance hall to the counter. The clerk stationed there, no doubt glad for the distraction from his ledger books, greeted the newcomers with cheer evident in his voice. “Good evening, sirs. How may I assist you?â€
The tallest of the purebloods answered, grinning cruelly. “This oaf bumped into me on the street, and he refused to apologize properly.†He finished his brief tale by hooking his thumb to point to indicate the outsider.
“The fine chap was the one to bump me, and has been most unreasonable in the aftermath,†the other young man replied, his voice low. “I believe he wishes for a duel to solve this issue.â€
The trio of purebloods laughed and nodded their assent. “Aye, he needs to be taught a lesson,†the tallest boasted, again speaking for his friends.
Bones felt a headache coming on, but he moved to join the group. “It’s five Galleons for a dueling license,†he told them, tetchily. The purebloods reached for their purses, but the quiet stranger produced a small leather pouch from within his cloak and dropped it on the desk with a clink.
The clerk, Davies, opened the bag to reveal the quintet of shining golden coins. In short order the coins were placed in the safe box at the desk and a parchment was produced.
As Davies rapidly filled out the license, the clerk frowned and looked up. “It’s two Sickles for an auror to serve as your second, if needed.â€
“Mister Warrington will be mine,†the pureblood challenger announced. Now he was closer, the magistrate could see the young man looked to have some troll blood in him. His teeth in particular were quite horrid, and set in a bloodthirsty grin. The challengee had already produced two silver coins, and was handing them over to Davies. Then both men were presented the quill to sign their names.
“Very well, Auror Tonks, you will serve as Mister Potter’s second,†Bones commanded, reading the man’s name off the document. He noted that the pureblood’s name was Marcus Flint. He guessed Flint was a grandson of a Wizengamot member, Horatio Flint. The name Potter did not ring any bells, but since wizards from all over Britain came to London this wasn’t too uncommon an occurrence.
He took the opportunity to size up Potter better as the duelists handed their cloaks to Warrington and Auror Tonks, respectively. The young man had kept his face largely composed thus far, somewhat remarkable considering the circumstances. Now, a sly smile had appeared as he spoke softly to his second; a blush spreading across the young auror’s face despite her efforts. He wondered briefly about the confidence it took to flirt with an auror, let alone anyone, mere moments before taking part in a potentially deadly duel against a member of the aristocracy.
Cloaks removed, both participants produced their weapons. Potter’s wand was a creation of Ollivanders, the same as his opponent. The craftsmanship was unmistakable, only a drunken idiot would be unable to recognize from his wand alone that Mister Potter had far more money than his non-descript clothing had indicated. A quick glance showed that Mister Flint and Mister Warrington were two of the aforementioned idiots. They merely nodded to show they approved the selection of his wand.
Potter was carefully eyeing Flint’s wand, a stout weapon made of cherry wood. The core was likely dragon heartstring, a powerful weapon but not one for subtlety. Potter’s own wand was slimmer and longer, of a lighter wood. The core was less obvious, but it would have been from a quality source. It’s nature would be shown soon enough.
Bones had a sinking feeling in his chest. His initial thought that Mister Potter had been forced into this duel against his will was looking less and less likely. Certainly it appeared that Flint believed he was in control, but Bones thought it more likely that the grandson of a Wizengamot member was walking into a trap with his eyes willfully closed. If Mister Potter was not also a pureblood, he was at least from a family of considerable means and equally well-equipped. Flint could not count on the advantage of having a superior wand. He was also taking this fight rather less seriously than Potter. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop the duel. Even now everyone in the room was turning to him for the customary reciting of the rules.
Edward Bones looked from one young man to the other. “You have come to settle a matter of honour; I will ensure that you settle it honourably. There will be no back-cursing, no using of wands other than those agreed upon, and no transfiguration of outside objects. If quarter is asked,†he began.
“No quarter will be asked,†Mister Potter interrupted, calm and cool again. Flint sneered in response.
“Nor given.†The magistrate blinked, again a feeling of dread pooling inside his chest.
“Take your places. Attend upon your wands, and commence on my mark.â€
The two duelists strode to separate ends of the entry hall, the seconds and clerks filling in to the sides beyond the pillars to watch. The runic wards carved into the stonework would protect them from errant magic there. Bones took a deep breath, and still unable to see a way out of this mess, flicked his wand to produce a small bang.
There was no hesitation from either side. Flint cast the first spell, a brutal conjuration of an iron ball similar to a bludger that sped towards his opponent. Potter was equally quick to send out a jet of light to divert the ball minisculely to his left. Combined with a hasty step to his right, it was just enough to avoid being smashed by the conjuration which sizzled harmlessly into the wards.
Flint actually growled as the spell missed, allowing Potter to take the initiative. A trio of spells were rapidly fired, the disarming spell shielded and the tripping jinx dodged. The third curse hit home then, slashing a nasty cut on Flint’s non-wand arm as the pureblood turned to protect his chest. Flint hurled an over-powered bludgeoning curse in response, which was narrowly deflected by his opponent.
Flint roared and remained on the offensive. Spell after spell was cast at his foe, each one turned aside by the slimmest of margins. Potter was staggering slightly now though, as if the effort was draining him. This caused Flint to redouble his efforts to land a telling blow, a confident smirk appearing on his face. Astonishingly the wound he had received already starting to heal. ‘Perhaps there really is some troll-blood in the Flint line,’ Bones thought.
However, Potter managed to keep pace with Flint and his defense maintained it’s perfect record, always narrowly though. Finally, Flint sagged slightly as his exhaustion caught up with him. Potter turned the fight then, firing off a quick asphyxiation jinx that caught his opponent. Flint actually reached for his own throat instead of casting a counter-curse. Bones looked to Warrington to see if the second would forfeit the match, but the man was shocked into inaction. For a brief moment a dark look appeared on Potter’s face, then it was gone as he cast a hurling hex at his helpless foe.
Flint was flung back and up into the air, spinning madly. His brief flight ended with a violent collision with the stone floor, landing of his head and shoulder and bending his neck awkwardly with a sickening thud. Bones immediately canceled the wards.
“Duel’s over!†He shouted. Two of his aurors rushed to Flint’s unmoving form. The rest of the room was silent, watching in mute horror. Potter turned his back on the scene, and strode over to Tonks. The auror woodenly handed the winner his cloak, which he received with an amused air.
“To the victor goes the spoils, eh?†With that, the young man suddenly pulled Tonks into a tight embrace, passionately kissing the surprised woman on the mouth. He pulled back after a moment and turned to leave. Warrington had finally overcome his surprise at the turn of events, and he pulled his own wand out and pointed it towards the retreating figure of Potter.
As if warned by a sixth sense, Potter spun on his heels and faced Warrington down with a hard stare. It was as if he was daring Warrington to try. After a second, Warrington lowered his wand and looked away. Potter smirked before waving jauntily in the direction of the two remaining purebloods and the limp figure which had moments before been a living, breathing human being. The tell-tale sound of apparition came seconds after he had disappeared out the door.
Tonks rejoined her superior, looking slightly frazzled by the turn of events. The Magistrate could hardly blame her. “That was pre-meditated,†she told him, her voice pitched so only he could hear her.
“What makes you think that? It would be very difficult to ensure Flint landed on his head. There are much simpler ways of killing someone.â€
Bones privately agreed with her, but he was interested to see her reasoning. He gestured to his other aurors, one of them leading the other purebloods away to a private room off the main hall where they could regain their composure. Another levitated the corpse to take it down to a holding area until it could be claimed by Flint’s family.
“What do you know of high-level dueling?†Tonks asked.
Bones shrugged his shoulders, he was not an enthusiast and as a magistrate did not regularly practice his combat spells. Aurors tended to have more a vested interest in the professional spell-slinging circuits.
“Deflecting hexes is much more difficult than simply casting shield spells, and the savings in magical energy is not sufficient to justify the increased risk. Potter baited Flint by always appearing to just barely being able to parry his curses.â€
“So Flint was enticed into casting spells until he exhausted himself. That still doesn’t explain how he could guarantee that Flint would break his neck,†Bones pointed out, slightly disappointed. As a magistrate he was used to playing the devil’s advocate, but it annoyed him that he had no proof a murder took place inside the courthouse while he had authority.
“I wasn’t done. Anyone who could deflect spells like that could control a hurling hex to make sure someone ended up on their head. Why else would Potter bother with that ploy? Those spells he used in the initial exchange were all of a low-grade. Even though one landed it was not enough to win the duel. A more powerful hex would have finished the fight almost as soon as it had begun. Harry purposefully chose to wait until after Flint had exhausted his magic before he won. He wanted to be sure that Flint didn’t have the energy left for a burst of accidental magic to save himself. Also, that asphyxiation curse? It was probably to keep his arms in tight to his chest, so one didn’t fly up to help break his fall.â€
Bones was convinced. He did have another question though, keeping his tone light. “Do you realize you referred to our new murder suspect as ‘Harry’ during your explanation?â€
Tonks blushed. “One of my relatives, Sirius Black, is best friends with James Potter. I have run into James and his family at several family functions. Harry is James only son. He recognized me when he was passing me his cloak.â€
Bones nodded. “I was wondering about that. Still, we don’t have any solid proof. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?â€
“He and his father were both proteges of Filius Flitwick in the Hogwarts dueling club. James was a national champion, Harry was reputed to be even better.â€
Bones got the sense Tonks was concealing something from him. He cleared his throat and gave her his best stern look. If anything, Tonks reddened even more. “And he’s one hell of a kisser…†she said weakly.
The Honourable Magistrate Sir Edward Bones, Appointee to the Court of London, let out a loud sigh and palmed his face while standing in the middle of the entry hall to the London Courthouse. The on-duty clerks and aurors all carefully averted their gaze and carried on with their work.
He blinked, processing the sight before him. A trio of young gentlemen, easily distinguishable as purebloods from the upper crust of society by their appearance and haughty demeanor, directly preceded by a dark-haired young man of a less easily determined station. His boots were clean but well-worn and quite scuffed, his robes plain black.
The quartet crossed the flagstone entrance hall to the counter. The clerk stationed there, no doubt glad for the distraction from his ledger books, greeted the newcomers with cheer evident in his voice. “Good evening, sirs. How may I assist you?â€
The tallest of the purebloods answered, grinning cruelly. “This oaf bumped into me on the street, and he refused to apologize properly.†He finished his brief tale by hooking his thumb to point to indicate the outsider.
“The fine chap was the one to bump me, and has been most unreasonable in the aftermath,†the other young man replied, his voice low. “I believe he wishes for a duel to solve this issue.â€
The trio of purebloods laughed and nodded their assent. “Aye, he needs to be taught a lesson,†the tallest boasted, again speaking for his friends.
Bones felt a headache coming on, but he moved to join the group. “It’s five Galleons for a dueling license,†he told them, tetchily. The purebloods reached for their purses, but the quiet stranger produced a small leather pouch from within his cloak and dropped it on the desk with a clink.
The clerk, Davies, opened the bag to reveal the quintet of shining golden coins. In short order the coins were placed in the safe box at the desk and a parchment was produced.
As Davies rapidly filled out the license, the clerk frowned and looked up. “It’s two Sickles for an auror to serve as your second, if needed.â€
“Mister Warrington will be mine,†the pureblood challenger announced. Now he was closer, the magistrate could see the young man looked to have some troll blood in him. His teeth in particular were quite horrid, and set in a bloodthirsty grin. The challengee had already produced two silver coins, and was handing them over to Davies. Then both men were presented the quill to sign their names.
“Very well, Auror Tonks, you will serve as Mister Potter’s second,†Bones commanded, reading the man’s name off the document. He noted that the pureblood’s name was Marcus Flint. He guessed Flint was a grandson of a Wizengamot member, Horatio Flint. The name Potter did not ring any bells, but since wizards from all over Britain came to London this wasn’t too uncommon an occurrence.
He took the opportunity to size up Potter better as the duelists handed their cloaks to Warrington and Auror Tonks, respectively. The young man had kept his face largely composed thus far, somewhat remarkable considering the circumstances. Now, a sly smile had appeared as he spoke softly to his second; a blush spreading across the young auror’s face despite her efforts. He wondered briefly about the confidence it took to flirt with an auror, let alone anyone, mere moments before taking part in a potentially deadly duel against a member of the aristocracy.
Cloaks removed, both participants produced their weapons. Potter’s wand was a creation of Ollivanders, the same as his opponent. The craftsmanship was unmistakable, only a drunken idiot would be unable to recognize from his wand alone that Mister Potter had far more money than his non-descript clothing had indicated. A quick glance showed that Mister Flint and Mister Warrington were two of the aforementioned idiots. They merely nodded to show they approved the selection of his wand.
Potter was carefully eyeing Flint’s wand, a stout weapon made of cherry wood. The core was likely dragon heartstring, a powerful weapon but not one for subtlety. Potter’s own wand was slimmer and longer, of a lighter wood. The core was less obvious, but it would have been from a quality source. It’s nature would be shown soon enough.
Bones had a sinking feeling in his chest. His initial thought that Mister Potter had been forced into this duel against his will was looking less and less likely. Certainly it appeared that Flint believed he was in control, but Bones thought it more likely that the grandson of a Wizengamot member was walking into a trap with his eyes willfully closed. If Mister Potter was not also a pureblood, he was at least from a family of considerable means and equally well-equipped. Flint could not count on the advantage of having a superior wand. He was also taking this fight rather less seriously than Potter. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop the duel. Even now everyone in the room was turning to him for the customary reciting of the rules.
Edward Bones looked from one young man to the other. “You have come to settle a matter of honour; I will ensure that you settle it honourably. There will be no back-cursing, no using of wands other than those agreed upon, and no transfiguration of outside objects. If quarter is asked,†he began.
“No quarter will be asked,†Mister Potter interrupted, calm and cool again. Flint sneered in response.
“Nor given.†The magistrate blinked, again a feeling of dread pooling inside his chest.
“Take your places. Attend upon your wands, and commence on my mark.â€
The two duelists strode to separate ends of the entry hall, the seconds and clerks filling in to the sides beyond the pillars to watch. The runic wards carved into the stonework would protect them from errant magic there. Bones took a deep breath, and still unable to see a way out of this mess, flicked his wand to produce a small bang.
There was no hesitation from either side. Flint cast the first spell, a brutal conjuration of an iron ball similar to a bludger that sped towards his opponent. Potter was equally quick to send out a jet of light to divert the ball minisculely to his left. Combined with a hasty step to his right, it was just enough to avoid being smashed by the conjuration which sizzled harmlessly into the wards.
Flint actually growled as the spell missed, allowing Potter to take the initiative. A trio of spells were rapidly fired, the disarming spell shielded and the tripping jinx dodged. The third curse hit home then, slashing a nasty cut on Flint’s non-wand arm as the pureblood turned to protect his chest. Flint hurled an over-powered bludgeoning curse in response, which was narrowly deflected by his opponent.
Flint roared and remained on the offensive. Spell after spell was cast at his foe, each one turned aside by the slimmest of margins. Potter was staggering slightly now though, as if the effort was draining him. This caused Flint to redouble his efforts to land a telling blow, a confident smirk appearing on his face. Astonishingly the wound he had received already starting to heal. ‘Perhaps there really is some troll-blood in the Flint line,’ Bones thought.
However, Potter managed to keep pace with Flint and his defense maintained it’s perfect record, always narrowly though. Finally, Flint sagged slightly as his exhaustion caught up with him. Potter turned the fight then, firing off a quick asphyxiation jinx that caught his opponent. Flint actually reached for his own throat instead of casting a counter-curse. Bones looked to Warrington to see if the second would forfeit the match, but the man was shocked into inaction. For a brief moment a dark look appeared on Potter’s face, then it was gone as he cast a hurling hex at his helpless foe.
Flint was flung back and up into the air, spinning madly. His brief flight ended with a violent collision with the stone floor, landing of his head and shoulder and bending his neck awkwardly with a sickening thud. Bones immediately canceled the wards.
“Duel’s over!†He shouted. Two of his aurors rushed to Flint’s unmoving form. The rest of the room was silent, watching in mute horror. Potter turned his back on the scene, and strode over to Tonks. The auror woodenly handed the winner his cloak, which he received with an amused air.
“To the victor goes the spoils, eh?†With that, the young man suddenly pulled Tonks into a tight embrace, passionately kissing the surprised woman on the mouth. He pulled back after a moment and turned to leave. Warrington had finally overcome his surprise at the turn of events, and he pulled his own wand out and pointed it towards the retreating figure of Potter.
As if warned by a sixth sense, Potter spun on his heels and faced Warrington down with a hard stare. It was as if he was daring Warrington to try. After a second, Warrington lowered his wand and looked away. Potter smirked before waving jauntily in the direction of the two remaining purebloods and the limp figure which had moments before been a living, breathing human being. The tell-tale sound of apparition came seconds after he had disappeared out the door.
Tonks rejoined her superior, looking slightly frazzled by the turn of events. The Magistrate could hardly blame her. “That was pre-meditated,†she told him, her voice pitched so only he could hear her.
“What makes you think that? It would be very difficult to ensure Flint landed on his head. There are much simpler ways of killing someone.â€
Bones privately agreed with her, but he was interested to see her reasoning. He gestured to his other aurors, one of them leading the other purebloods away to a private room off the main hall where they could regain their composure. Another levitated the corpse to take it down to a holding area until it could be claimed by Flint’s family.
“What do you know of high-level dueling?†Tonks asked.
Bones shrugged his shoulders, he was not an enthusiast and as a magistrate did not regularly practice his combat spells. Aurors tended to have more a vested interest in the professional spell-slinging circuits.
“Deflecting hexes is much more difficult than simply casting shield spells, and the savings in magical energy is not sufficient to justify the increased risk. Potter baited Flint by always appearing to just barely being able to parry his curses.â€
“So Flint was enticed into casting spells until he exhausted himself. That still doesn’t explain how he could guarantee that Flint would break his neck,†Bones pointed out, slightly disappointed. As a magistrate he was used to playing the devil’s advocate, but it annoyed him that he had no proof a murder took place inside the courthouse while he had authority.
“I wasn’t done. Anyone who could deflect spells like that could control a hurling hex to make sure someone ended up on their head. Why else would Potter bother with that ploy? Those spells he used in the initial exchange were all of a low-grade. Even though one landed it was not enough to win the duel. A more powerful hex would have finished the fight almost as soon as it had begun. Harry purposefully chose to wait until after Flint had exhausted his magic before he won. He wanted to be sure that Flint didn’t have the energy left for a burst of accidental magic to save himself. Also, that asphyxiation curse? It was probably to keep his arms in tight to his chest, so one didn’t fly up to help break his fall.â€
Bones was convinced. He did have another question though, keeping his tone light. “Do you realize you referred to our new murder suspect as ‘Harry’ during your explanation?â€
Tonks blushed. “One of my relatives, Sirius Black, is best friends with James Potter. I have run into James and his family at several family functions. Harry is James only son. He recognized me when he was passing me his cloak.â€
Bones nodded. “I was wondering about that. Still, we don’t have any solid proof. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?â€
“He and his father were both proteges of Filius Flitwick in the Hogwarts dueling club. James was a national champion, Harry was reputed to be even better.â€
Bones got the sense Tonks was concealing something from him. He cleared his throat and gave her his best stern look. If anything, Tonks reddened even more. “And he’s one hell of a kisser…†she said weakly.
The Honourable Magistrate Sir Edward Bones, Appointee to the Court of London, let out a loud sigh and palmed his face while standing in the middle of the entry hall to the London Courthouse. The on-duty clerks and aurors all carefully averted their gaze and carried on with their work.
