Chapter Text
Draco revelled as the crowd’s energy turned predatory.
Student after student raised their hands to point out all of the ways that Professor Snape had wiped the floor with Lockhart and how Lockhart had failed to even notice.
Soon Lockhart was red as a tomato and shaking with rage.
“Yes, yes, as I was saying, this was all done for demonstration purposes. Now, I bet my very first printed copy of ‘Werewolves of Baskerville’ that you would all rather get to practicing duelling for yourselves than standing around talking about your boring old professors, am I right or am I right?
“Perhaps we could have a couple of students give it a go in front of everyone before we break into pairs, yes? Who’d like to volunteer? Mr. Potter? I’m sure you’re dying to show your fans what you’re made of.”
“Not really,” Harry murmured testily, bristling as Lockhart invaded his personal space.
“I’ll go!” Draco volunteered loudly, waving his hand and attempting to step between the two of them.
“Very good,” Lockhart said with a painfully fake chuckle, grabbing Harry’s arm from around Draco and dragging him onto the stage while Draco scrambled to follow.
He glared at Lockhart and pointedly grabbed the professor’s wrist to remove it from Harry’s person, even as Harry squared his shoulders and hissed, “Don’t ever touch me without my permission.”
Lockhart blanched and twisted away from Harry and Draco’s scrutiny to face the crowd.
“Let’s see of these two star-crossed lovers have what it takes to fight a proper duel, shall we?”
“Ew,” Draco muttered under his breath while Harry rolled his eyes.
Snape stepped up between them. “Stay focused,” he instructed calmly, “and focus on defence. I am well aware of how much sparring goes on in your common room, so I trust you’ve both already honed some instincts. Don’t let that idiot goad you into doing something rash.”
“Are there any rules we should know about?” Harry asked.
“No attacking until both of you have bowed. Stay on the platform. No harmful spells. And stand down as soon as I call it. You’ll be fine, Harry. Show Lockhart what you’ve got.”
Draco extended his hand for Harry to shake, a muggle show of sportsmanship that Draco had witnessed from Piers over the summer. “Scared, Potter?” he asked teasingly.
Harry grinned in response. “You wish.”
As Draco moved to his end of the platform, he could feel the anticipation from their audience rising.
It surprised Draco that so many students, particularly the older ones, would care about what two second years could do, but he supposed it shouldn’t.
One of them was The Boy Who Lived, after all.
And Harry wasn’t one for flexing his magic outside of the Slytherin dorms or class.
Everyone wanted to see if the boy lived up to the legend.
“You got this Harry!” one of the Weasley twins called out, shooting Draco a wink. “Wipe the floor with Malfoy’s arse!”
Several students snorted at the phrasing, making the smirks on both twins’ faces grow wider.
“You want me to take you on next?” Draco shot back, laughing.
Both twins beamed with mischievous glee, making Draco regret his impulsively brazen challenge.
Fred and George Weasley always came as a matched set and were not afraid to play dirty.
Harry first.
Clearing his mind, Draco took a deep breath and centered himself like he’d learned over the summer.
It took Draco a moment to realize that both he and Harry had adopted the bow they’d learned in karate class, rather than the standard wizard version. The small twitch of Harry’s lips prove that he’d noticed it, too.
They were in their own little world after that, a cozy little amalgamation of sparring in the Slytherin Heir’s room and training in the muggle dojo; no audience, no prat of a professor, and no pressure holding them back.
It was just a game between friends, a familiar competition to outdo one another and try something new.
Neither of them had Professor Snape’s precision and accuracy in their attacks nor Lockhart’s obsession with theatrics, but they knew each other well enough to predict each other’s next moves as often as not, and plenty of practice at staying balanced, mindful, and ready to strike.
Sometimes their pronunciation under pressure was a little clumsy, and sometimes their movements weren’t as smooth as they were in class, but none of that really mattered.
They were having fun.
Draco soon found it frustrating that the duelling arena was so narrow. He was ducking and dodging as best as he could, but the edges of the stage kept getting in the way.
He was used to a lot of their wand sparring happening on their brooms with three full axes of movement available to them, and they always made use of a lot of the mat at the dojo too.
It felt like being trapped in a hallway, constrained and claustrophobic, despite the large room around them, but it was a challenge that was forcing Draco to be creative.
He and Harry were both using distance to vary the cadence of the fight.
They would close the gap between themselves, integrating hand-to-hand strikes in between casting before backing away again and sending volleys of admittedly sloppy spells at one another.
By the time Harry caught a lucky shot and hit Draco with a cheeky expelliarmus, Draco could feel the heat flushing his cheeks while his ribs ached from breathing in a way they hadn’t since he’d started running with Harry every morning early last year.
He fairly collapsed against Harry’s shoulder and clumsily grabbed his friend’s hand to give it a final shake.
Harry, thankfully for Draco’s dignity, seemed equally worn out.
As they caught their breaths, it slowly dawned on Draco that the whole room was staring at them and whispering fiercely.
It was Neville of all people who broke the silence. “How did you guys learn to do that?”
Around his shy Gryffindor friend, other students nodded along.
Draco blinked and looked to Professor Snape, who also looked rather gobsmacked. “Sir? What did we do? Why’s everyone staring?”
Professor Snape cleared his throat. “Most wizarding duelists, especially those trained in the European or North American styles, have a tendency to forego complicated footwork and hand-to-hand elements in favor of pure magical strength and ingenuity. What you and Mr. Potter just demonstrated looked closer to an Eastern style of dueling than anything I’ve witnessed in several years, albeit less structured, and not pertaining to any one school. Very impressive, Gentlemen, and a lesson to the rest of you that creativity and movement can be powerful allies in a fight. Note the stamina that both combatants displayed throughout the duration. This style would not have worked had either of them been out of shape. Conditioning, discipline, and repetition were all clearly on display just now. The body must be honed just as much as one’s magic; only a fool disregards one in favor of the other.”
“Sir? Was everything they did legal, then? I’ve never read of martial arts being allowed in a proper wizard’s duel,” Granger asked insistently.
Draco could hear Professor Snape’s eyes rolling as he answered. “They were well within the parameters of the rules laid out for them today, Miss Granger, and I remind you that I mentioned the existence of many different wizarding dueling schools. What is legal in one might not be legal in another. At the end of the day, I advice you all to learn to adapt and to expect the unexpected. In life, not everyone follows the rules. You may one day find yourself in a fight against one who will not deign to fight fair. Remember that.”
Harry nudged Draco’s shoulder and beamed at him with pride. “Morning runs were your idea, remember?”
Were they? Draco distinctly remembered Harry dragging Draco’s disgruntled and bleary-eyed form out of bed morning after morning until the routine had finally settled.
“Never would have tried karate without you, either,” Draco said instead, as Granger began grilling Professor Snape on why there were no books on Eastern duelling schools in the duelling section of the Hogwarts library.
“The way you dropped into that one roll was totally something you learned from skateboarding,” Harry giggled. “I thought you were going to faceplant all over again.”
“Ha ha. We did pretty good, didn’t we?”
Harry grinned. “I think I like duelling club better than I thought I would.”