Duelling Tournament: Round One

[Professor Artemis Hawthorne]

This event had been planned for months. She and Minerva, and Filius Flitwick also though to a lesser extent, had had their heads bent together over this for almost a year before all of their hard work had come to fruition. Signup sheets had been posted. Announcements had been made. Parents had been informed. Permission slips had been distributed to students and parents in a timely manner. The corridors had been abuzz with excited whispers and mutters about it. Today was the day. Today was their day of triumph. Except for one thing: she and Minerva would now be doing this by themselves.

“I understand your problem, Artemis, but there’s nothing I can do.” Madam Pomfrey smiled at her colleague sympathetically, ushering the DADA professor closer and closer towards the door. The hospital wing was still a place for the restful; Artemis Hawthorne’s glowers and glares had no rightful place in there. “Filius is sick, my dear. He’s not leaving my hospital wing. And for Merlin’s sake, try not to send me any injured students today! The last batch of potions that Severus sent me has gone already. Now shoo! Stop disturbing my patients.”

“Unbelievable!” Artemis huffed, growling out a command for two far too young students to separate. Honestly, what was the world coming to? Fourteen year olds had no business being so closely entwined. She had not carried on so loosely when she had been a teenager. And didn’t that just make her sound old? How alarming. She wasn’t so many years past thirty years old, after all. There was no reason for her to sound so much like a grouchy old woman who had lived for far too long by herself. She still held the reputation as one of the fairest teachers in the school though. That had to count for something. Even if she had earned that reputation less from being pleasant to all of her students but rather from being the strict professor most of them needed. There were very few students who would willingly follow the instructions given to them. Perhaps that was why she and Minerva had befriended each other so easily. The Head of Gryffindor, the very same woman who had lived through the two wars of Voldemort and served under Dumbledore as Headmaster, agreed wholeheartedly that letting students do solely as they wished would only cause chaos. Maybe this would teach them a bit of restraint and respect for what their magic could do. She knew that Minerva held her reservations about that still, but Artemis kept faith. Young ones could learn, she knew. They just didn’t always want to.

Entering the Great Hall where the students had been told to assemble, Artemis nimbly leapt up onto the stage with the long-legged grace and agility of a woman who trained hard and expected everyone else to do the same. The stage was a new addition to the Great Hall; she had cleared away all of the House dining tables as well as the Staff one to make more room for the observers of the tournament before setting to work on the large stage that was the dominating feature of the Hall. It was a simple structure, just as it ought to be. There was little reality of glamour and style in true duelling. Not that the students under her tutelage would be experiencing such harsh techniques. No cheating was allowed in this competition. It had been a stipulation of the Headmistress’ agreement to the tournament that the students only be taught the more civil, etiquette-based form of duelling. Minerva had agreed, and Artemis could understand. They weren’t training students for a war after all; this was just a bit of an exciting way to finish off this school year.

Knowing from experience that her voice would be heard even at the back of the Hall, Artemis threw a quick glance at Minerva to check that her partner in this event was ready before calling out to the students. “As you all should know by now, anyone under 16 who wishes to participate must hand their permission slips to myself and Professor McGonagall. After I have finished giving instructions, please separate into your year groups: first to fourth years on the right side of the Hall, and fifth to seventh years on the left. I will be taking the permission slips from the left side of the Hall, and Professor McGonagall shall take care of the right side. Those who do not wish to participate but are interested in learning more about the etiquette, technique and theory that we have been covering in the last two weeks of lessons should be in Professor McGonagall’s classroom and waiting patiently there for her. If you are simply here to watch the tournament then stand by the back wall and be patient; seats will be conjured for you as soon as the registration of participants has been completed and more room is available for seating.”

Taking up her post on the left side of the room, Artemis prepared herself for the mass of students congregating around her. The first duelling tournament held in Hogwarts was inevitably going to be flooded with students but it was still surprising to see so many people interested in her speciality. At least the Great Hall was big enough to comfortably hold everyone in attendance, she supposed.

[Rister Graas S6]

„Are you babysitting me?“ Rister asked with some amusement, turning his head in an attempt to catch a glance of the young redhead who had launched herself at his back for a piggy-bkac ride. A freedom truly allowed to only two girls in the whole world, because mom wouldn’t really want a piggy-back ride and Lita… Well. Rister had carried Lita from one place to another often enough when she fell asleep over some book or next to her cauldron and it was quite possible Lita could wheedle a piggy-back ride out of Rister if she set her mind to it. Lita was a sister in everything but blood but Rister still couldn’t imagine her launching herself at him quite with te same ease Morgana and Leandra did. „Fool,“ Rister muttered but not without a certain amoung of fondness as Leandra merely laughed and leaned her chin on his shoulder. It was actually warming to have his younger siblings rallying to cheer him up like this. Perhaps it was petty of him to feel quite so irritated over not being able to join the duelling today, but it came with the job. And Rister didn’t really mind being the heir, he reminded himself as he glanced down at the signet ring adorning his finger.

Before he could retort anything more his attention was caught by a year-mate in Slytherin waving him over. Rister averted his course somewhat to approach the group as well, greeted his year-mate who had invited him over. Slytherins were ambitious and occasionally backstabbing bastards, but they were also quite social creatures. At least they socialised very actively within the confines of pureblood society and their own house as well as with an occasional Ravenclaw. Not all Ravenclaws got along well with Slytherins, so the brainy house tended to take a neutral stance in school-wide arguments. But there were Ravenclaws – Rister’s siblings and Lita to name a few – who got along perfectly well with the snakes as well. So Rister easily fell into socially polished joking with his classmate over their similar roles of watching over duelling siblings today. The small cluster of Slytherins split apart somewhat after entering the Great Hall though with only Rister’s year-mate and her younger sister sticking with Rister and Leandra who had leaned her head against Rister’s neck and closed her eyes.

Deviating to the right side of the Hall, Rister drew his wand to conjure a seat for himself and Leandra. His sister wasn’t exactly heavy and Rister could carry her around without many problems, but he wasn’t planning on remaining standing with her napping on his back. He was in good shape, but he was just human. Leandra might not be heavy, but she wasn’t weightless. Carefully settling Leandra on oen of the seats he had summoned Rister sat next to her, allowing Leandra to lean on his shoulder even though the shift in her position had made her open hre eyes and peer around quite curiously. Both quieted as Hawthorne start the cliché jabbering about everything that had already been talked about before, both of the siblings’ merely taking note of the hall sides. “If they divided the hall in tow, does it mean older and younger students will be duelling simultaneously? Who’se going to supervise the younger kids ad Minnie should be heading to that boring etiquette lexture? Anyway, are you staying here to see Morgana’s duel?” Leandra questioned, barely giving Rister time to nod before she was already pouncing to her feet and chattering on, “I’ll go and peer around. I want to see the older duels so that I could maybe pick up a spell or two. Oh, look, Damon and Ashlyn are there.” Offering him a merry little way, Leandra took off, cutting her way straight through other people towards the pair he had noticed. Watching her grow with an amused grin, Rister settled in more comfortably in his seat, reclining his head back as he observed the on-goings in the Hall with a somewhat bored look.

[Damon Graas R5]

Damon groaned moodily and buried his head deeper in his pillow. Not that it helped much against Ashlyn manipulating the bond in a mental equivalent of shaking someone up. The pillow didn’t offer much protection against it though, so with a groan Damon pried an eye open to peer at his watch. “It’s only 11.05, I have plenty of time,” Damon groused under his breath, groaning louder as the bond flared again. “I’m up, I’m up,” he muttered, shifting his own mind to brush against the bond to signal to Ashlyn that she had – yet again – been successful in waking her through the bond. Heaving a deep sigh, Damon sat up and tossed his legs on the floor before blearily wandering through his empty dormitory towards the showers. Ashlyn didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the mental brush Damon had sent her in response for in the shower the bond flared up again. “I said I’m up already,” Damon muttered, closing his eys and focusing to give his best in forwarding the sensation and the idea that he was taking a shower to Ashlyn. Hopefully the girl was currently flushing crimson in company ready and able to tease. At least it seemed to have worked to some extent as Damon could finish the rest of his shower in peace.

Ambling back into his dormitory being somewhat more awake after his shower, Damon cast around for clothes. He did manage to find grey slacks and blacks shoes and socks, yet all the clean shirts seemed to have vanished. Luckily Jared wore the same size, Damon decided as he grabbed his book along and headed towards Jared’s dormitory. “Jared, do you have…” Damon paused and blinked as Jared snarled at him from where he was perched on his bed with his guitar. Figuring that a snarl was a more musical way of saying ‘go ahead’ Damon helped himself to Jared’s clothes, finding a suitable black silk shirt with pearly grey buttons to go with his pants. Closing two of the buttons Damon headed out of his brother’s dormitory once more, pushing his fingers through his wet but uncombed hair once before deciding that the one thing that made mornings bearable was still lacking – the nectar of gods, Coffee. Dark and bitter and strong and delicious as it slides over his tongue. Still dreaming of coffee, Damon absently tapped the top of the head of some younger student warning in passing as he was about to cast a jinx at someone. “Three points from,” Damon paused to glance at the kid’s robes, utterly uncaring that he hadn’t worn his own robe as it was a Saturday, “Hufflepuff.” Meandering on he heard the kid mutter something to his supposed victim quite clearly on the topic of Damon. “Two more points from both of your houses,” Damon hollered back over his shoulder just for the principle of it, not really bothered by a jinx or two between friends as long as it didn’t really disturb his life. He was a hard prefect with punishments, but he was fair and he was generally far too lazy to go out of his way to find troublemakers so he wasn’t really a hated prefect.

The rest of the way to the kitchen went unhindered and Damon spent an half-hour in the kitchen idlying away behind waffles and five gloriously large mugs of coffee. With coffee once again mixing with his blood, Damon felt satisfied once again as he leaned back in his seat to close his eyes and get a little catnap. He had stayed up reading until nearly 5AM so it wasn’t as if his nightly sleep had been satisfactory yet. So Damon allowed his mind to doze off for an additional house quite gladly. He was once more shaking up by Ashlyn though, this time in person. “Morning,” Damon muttered around a yawn as he raised his arms in a luxurious stretch. Noticing Ashlyn suspiciously eyeing his coffee mug, Damon discreetly rolled his eyes: “Its morning. I’m allowed my coffee dose in the mornings. Besides being a hard-working prefect and stopping random spell-casting in the hallways is hard work. I need something to keep me going.” But deciding that he had gotten enough sleep to last the day Damon obligingly stood and scooped up his book before heading out the kitchen with Ashlyn. It was more-or-less time to head to the Great Hall anyway. “Oh?” glancing down at his shirt Damon noticed that Ashlyn was indeed right and that one of the two buttons he had bothered to close was in the wrong hole. “I suppose it is wrongly buttoned,” he agreed with a careless shrug, hiding a grin as Ashlyn set to work making him look presentable. He quite enjoyed Ashlyn fussing over him so Damon kindly turned a deaf ear to her dark mutters.

“Really, Ashlyn, do not molest my brother in a public hallway. I’m certain you two could find a room,” Morgana remarked from behind them, cause Damon to chuckle even as he threw his arm around Ashlyn’s shoulders and headed towards the Great Hall once more. They arrived at the Greta Hall just in time to hear the important half of Hawthorne’s lecture. “I’ll make sure Gabs hands in his slip to the right person,” Morgana informed them as she took off towards their late brother with a rueful shake of his head. Damon, being of age himself, carried on trailing after Ashlyn as she headed to hand in her permission slip.

[Adrian Hollows]

Nieve (S4) and Larisa (R7) Ramírez.


“I can’t believe Mamá is allowing you to do this. Shouldn’t she have deemed it too unladylike or something?” Larisa lowered her wand, swept into a flourishing bow and collapsed into a chair. Shrugging, Nieve threw a bottle of water at her before draining on herself. They had been duelling against each other for nearly three hours, training and testing each other and just having fun with their spells. “What Mamá doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” the fourteen year old girl answered with an enigmatic smile. “Cecilia signed my permission slip; you know how good she is at forging his signature.” Their cousin was exceptional at forging signatures, especially for a thirteen year old. Her older sister, Lucía, was always remarking that Cecilia would end up running a con business. She was always quiet about it, of course; no one wanted such rumours to be passed onto Grandmother. As the eldest out of the three lines, at seventeen, Larisa would be the one to step forward and take the punishment unless she wanted fourteen year old Lucía and thirteen year old Cecilia to face Grandmother. Of course, the last time Lucía had been forced to face Grandmother, her mother had packed everything and moved in with her own mother. Uncle Luis hadn’t been pleased to have lost his wife and children because of his mother and the separation had lasted for nearly a year before he could coax them back with promises of forcing Grandmother to leave them alone. They were promises he couldn’t keep, of course, but María was almost slavishly devoted to her husband. Aunt Rosalía, more independent and fiery than María could ever hope to be, had often scoffed at the weakness she saw in her brother-in-law’s wife.

“She’ll find out eventually, you know. And you’ll be in real trouble if Grandmother finds out.” Daddy’s favoured child or not, Nieve couldn’t always be sheltered from Grandmother’s bitter and twisted interpretations of how pureblood families should be ruled. Nieve stiffened at her sister’s observation, dark eyes meeting hers with cold defiance. “Mamá won’t find out,” she drawled slowly, every word measured and clipped. “Because if Mamá does find out then I’ll know who told her. Don’t ruin this for me, Larisa. I won’t forgive easily.” Larisa sighed, holding up her hands in surrender. Nieve wanted her chance to rebel like a true teenager, she understood. But why couldn’t she do it in a more normal way, like dating a boy their parents would hate at first sight? That was what Larisa had done and it hadn’t harmed her development in the slightest. “Chill. I won’t tell Mamá. If she finds out, I had nothing to do with it. Let’s not ruin my reputation as the good child, yeah?”

Nieve nodded in agreement, falling in step with her sister as they left the room they had been using to train and made for the Great Hall. “I’ve covered all my tracks,” Nieve responded easily, retying her sash. She would have to discard it when it was her time to duel, of course, but she could keep it on for a bit longer, despite Larisa’s exasperated glance. “Cecilia obviously won’t be telling, because she was the one to sign the slip. Miguel and Nicolás won’t tell anyone, because it’ll get us into trouble. Lucía and Lucio know it’s in their best interests not to tell because they were the ones to encourage me. Isabel might tell, because she doesn’t get along with me, but she’s not that petty and Lucio will stop her anyway. So, really, you’re the only wildcard here. But you won’t tell on me because I’m your little sister and you don’t want to see me get into trouble,” Nieve concluded cheerfully, separating from her sister to join the other fourth years on the right side of the Hall. “Good luck in your own duels, by the way!”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“How do you always manage to have something wrong with your appearance?” Ashlyn grumbled bad-temperedly, flicking open the buttons and then refastening them in the correct holes. It really was just her luck to be bonded to someone like Damon Graas. Despite what she told herself to believe, he really wasn’t an only child so Rister, Gabriel and Jared really were his brothers. Leandra and Morgana, Ashlyn didn’t mind so much. They were often more tolerable than Damon’s brothers. Not only that, but he also couldn’t be bothered to get up in the morning at a decent hour, despite her consideration in trying to wake him. Not to mention that he had been up late doing something or other and the little flares through the bond had woke her up repeatedly through the night. Was it rude to send someone an owl with a letter demanding that they go to sleep already? Ashlyn really needed to find out. Damon also seemed incapable of dressing himself, which wasn’t really a bonus either. “Even Layla can dress herself properly,” Ashlyn remarked pointedly, “and she’s four years younger than you.”

“I do not molest Damon anywhere!” Ashlyn protested in a hissed whisper, flushing at Morgana’s accusation. With a wide grin, the expression wicked enough for Ashlyn to swear that her cousin was never being left alone with Lita or Gabriel ever again, Layla popped up behind Morgana. “You’ve been molesting Damon in the hallway?” Layla inquired with wide eyes. “Shall I ask Gabriel where some more private spots are for you, Ashlyn?” Muttering under her breath, Ashlyn scowled and pushed Layla in the direction of the crowd so that she could find either Rister or Leandra since neither of them was competing. There was no way that Ashlyn was going to let Damon sign Layla’s permission slip either, even if he had been inclined to. Layla hadn’t asked though, seeming content enough to watch and silently cheer. Rister or Leandra would keep an eye on the younger girl though, so Ashlyn wouldn’t have to worry while she was duelling.

Once they reached Hawthorne, the professor checked over the slip and raised an eyebrow at the signature. Ashlyn flushed slightly, uneasy with the questions littering Professor Hawthorne’s light-eyed gaze. “I’m busy, as you can see, so we’ll talk about this after the tournament,” Hawthorne decided with brisk efficiency, placing Ashlyn’s permission slip to the side. “I’ve seen enough of yours and your brothers’ antics to believe that this isn’t just some sort of a trick,” she told Damon warningly, “so if this is a trick then, Swallow, resign from the tournament now. Otherwise, you can compete and both of you remain in the Hall after the tournament to explain. I don’t want in-depth details, but an explanation is clearly needed. Now go and wait somewhere to be told who your opponent will be, which will happen two duels before your own.”

[Lita Hollows R6]

“Garwin.” Lita inclined her head stiffly, brown eyes dark with disappointment. She had tried to help the Hufflepuff too many times, only to be repaid with failure and a lack of trying. Nothing ever worked where Meredith Garwin was concerned, as Lita had come to find out. “I take it you’ve signed up for the tournament then. How brave of you.” At that comment, Meredith looked so confused that Lita couldn’t help but to laugh, the sound both mocking and genuinely pitying. The poor girl really didn’t have a clue, did she? No wonder she hadn’t been placed in Ravenclaw. Lita herself had headed straight for Hawthorne to get answers about how the tournament would be run and how the years would be divided. It wouldn’t be fair to make a first year face a seventh year, after all. Meredith clearly hadn’t had the same foresight. “Damon, Ashlyn, Gabriel and Morgana have entered,” Lita told her gently. “You won’t be facing Morgana; at least I highly doubt it. The odds are certainly against it, anyway. The other three, however, could easily be chosen as one of your opponents. As could I. Do you think that you can beat us?”

Merry smiled weakly. “Rister isn’t competing then?” Rosa had been so enthusiastic about the idea of her older sister entering the tournament; Merry couldn’t bear to tell her that she wasn’t going to enter so she ended up signing up for it. She probably would have done anyway. Duelling was just like an archery competition, or her martial arts competitions. Merry had always been a fighter at heart. Always. The reminder of her own nature made her straighten her posture as her smile solidified on her face. She didn’t back down from challenges. She never had and she never would. That philosophy had dissolved somehow during her confrontations with Rister Graas and his family but she had to stop behaving like such an idiot. Her father and brothers would be ashamed to see the person she had become. Rosa and Pip especially wouldn’t recognise the way she acted.

“No,” Lita answered shortly, nodding briefly at Hawthorne’s acceptance that they had both signed in for the tournament and reminder that they would be told two duels before their own who their partner was going to be. The sudden strength visible in Meredith made Lita’s mind up for her as she grasped the Hufflepuff’s wrist and pulled her along behind her, temporarily deaf to any protests. “Rister! My duel probably won’t be for ages and I’m bored. I’ll probably be even more so once the duels start. Why can’t you enter and fix the competition so that you’re duelling against me? That would be interesting.” Lita threw herself in the empty chair next to her best friend, waving in Meredith’s general direction once Rister noticed her companion. “I found a stray lingering by Hawthorne’s side of the Hall,” Lita explained, somehow managing to sound like a young child begging for her parents to let her keep an injured animal she had found outside. “Can I keep her?”

[Rister Graas S6]

Rister’s sharp eyes had registered the arrival of all his siblings that had decided to enter the duels. Registring their presence in his mind along with that of Ashlyn and Layla and Lita, Rister allowed himself to close his eyes in his reclined position, his head lolling against the back of his chair. He wished he could join the duels, not even so much to win – although he liked winning – but to stretch himself. To test himself. All of his professors would deem Rister lazy. He was rather bright when he wanted to be, but generally he didn’t bother to make an effort besides having passing grades in any subjects other than Transfigration. But then again Transfiguration came to him so easily he nearly never had to study for the subject. But Rister wasn’t a fool and outside class he spent hours practicing and working on his wandwork. But even despite his disgruntlement, Rister’s face remained a perfectly still picture of serenity itself. He was being foolish, he knew it. But sometimes carrying the weight of your future on your shoulder would tire out any 17 year old boy, no matter how strong.

Lita’s voice calling out to him supplied the best distraction he could wish for in this situation. His eyes remained closed and his head fallen back even as he lifted his right hand, his wand slipping between his fingers. He offered no further warning or time before his wand flicked and the spell tumbled from his lips. Lita had called out the challenge of her boredom and Rister had no doubts she would be ready to counter a spell. Just in case. She knew him after all. And Rister wasn’t one to disappoint. It was a relatively simple and straight-forward spell, but it was strong; powered by Rister’s rather large magic reserves and a bit of his frustrations. It had felt good to toss the spell, Rister admit to himself, twirling his wand between his fingers for a moment before letting it slip back into its holster. There might be time until Lita’s duels, but he wouldn’t toss anymore hexes at her right now anyway.

“Wish I could but unless sometime this morning you managed to cart Dad here I’m doomed to observe. Sometimes the old ways of the Graas family can be incredibly irksome,” Rister admitted freely, because it was Lita who had dropped herself into the chair he had originally conjured for Leandra. “Win this for me. It’d make it that much sweeter to whip your miserable behind afterwards when we’re away from prying eyes and I can actually practice,” Rister requested a duel from his friend, raising his head and finally opening his eyes to glance at Lita only to have her divert his attention to Merry. Rister glanced at the Hufflepuff – why couldn’t she have stayed the lively and confident girl Rister had first met? – with a neutral expression. She had made an effort to understand as was proven by her willingness to see Dad’s transformation. She had certainly also seemed bothered enough by the explanation that the transformation wasn’t accompanied by even groans because there was so much pain blossoming in the body that there simply wasn’t the air and oxygen to spare for making sounds. Besides there was the oath. Rister’s lip-corner twitched in slight irony directed only towards himself as he let his head loll backwards and closed his eyes once again. “You have too many books. Where would you keep her?”

[Lita Hollows R6]

Lita smirked faintly, her wand slipping into her hand instantly. She had guessed that saying she was bored would be like an open invitation to Rister; many times before she had announced the lack of entertainment in her life at that moment and Rister had always risen to the challenge admirably. However much she light-heartedly complained that Rister was sometimes lazy and needed to apply himself more, he was proficient in spellwork. It wasn’t at all fair that he couldn’t enter the tournament. If they could have talked Hawthorne into rigging the pairings so that Lita was facing Rister then she would have offered to throw the match if she found herself winning. They were pretty evenly matched after all. Rister had more power behind his spells, certainly, but Lita was lighter on her feet therefore quicker to dodge. If she didn’t always show Rister the interesting spells she found in her books then she would probably also have mastered a few more offensive and defensive spells than him. Still, she needed someone to practice against so she always had to share them with him anyway. Sometimes he already knew them too. That was always annoying; if Rister had extra knowledge then he really needed to share it with her.

With the spell cancelled long before it reached her, Lita grinned at Rister even though his eyes were closed. He hadn’t chosen anything that would really physically injure or even hurt her pride too badly. “We’ll have our own duelling tournament, just the nine of us,” Lita consoled with a quiet laugh. She hadn’t been thrilled by the realisation that her best friend wouldn’t be able to compete but it hadn’t stopped her from signing up. This tournament held the promise of being a good test of her knowledge and application of spells. “Ashlyn might even let Layla compete if we promise not to use anything worse than a tickling hex. Damon still might have to distract her though, but I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.” Ah, speak of the devil. Lita stretched out her left arm, tugging Layla in closer until the younger Ravenclaw was comfortably nestled on her lap, blue eyes still gazing at Meredith with severe dislike. “Come on, Layla, tell Rister that he’ll never be able to win a duel against me, not even if he sent Gabriel to distract me,” Lita coaxed playfully, her smile fading when her only reply was a hard look from those flinty blue eyes. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that Layla despised Meredith, but the young girl would still need to learn to be civil even to those she hated. It was a good talent to have in life.

“That’s a good question,” Lita mused thoughtfully, sending a mock-scrutinising glance in Meredith’s direction. “Under the bed maybe? No, I know! In your bed. There’s room enough, that’s for sure.” Meredith still blushed as brightly as she ever had, Lita noticed idly. Had she ever been so painfully obvious when she had been trying to hide how she felt for Gaenor? Lita grimaced, her distaste at the thought clearly evident. Then again, she had never been terrified of Gaenor, as Meredith so obviously was of Rister. The mix of fear and attraction probably wasn’t an easy one to live with. A quick glance down told her that Layla doubtlessly wanted to add some suggestions of where to keep Meredith so Lita poked her warningly, knowing very well that those suggestions were hardly likely to be quite so accommodating or welcoming.

“You could always just let me stay where I always have,” Merry suggested dryly, valiantly fighting against the red tint spreading across her complexion. Honestly, did Lita always have to try so hard to change her pale skin to a different shade? Especially in front of Rister. She made a fool of herself in front of him often enough and effortlessly enough without Lita’s interference. “I mean, being kept under a bed doesn’t sound overly comfortable.” Lita’s slow smirk warned Merry that a sly comment about Rister’s bed was likely to come next, which made Merry roll her eyes and obligingly continue. Lita never gave up, no matter how many times she said that she was going to. It made Merry wonder exactly what the Ravenclaw was trying to achieve. “And before you say anything else, Lita, I highly doubt that Rister will be happy if you just hand over your imagined custody of me to him. Especially if you want to put me in his bed.”

[Rister Graas S6]

“Certainly not nine of us. Jared has his first recording tonight and Leandra has detention with Snape,” Rister told Lita without even having to think over the plans of his siblings. It was certainly easier to track down Damon when he ended up reading in some odd out-of-the-way place now that Ashlyn could locate him with pinpoint accuracy but even so Rister knew the general outline of his siblings – as well as Lita’s, Ashlyn’s and Layla’s – daily plans by heart. It was simply something that came with the job of being the oldest. “He seemed a bit preoccupied by it when he woke me this morning,” Rister told Lita, picking his words carefully. Jared had been a nervous wreck, waking Rister up that morning because he needed someone to rant at. But with Meredith being present Rister wasn’t planning on saying that out loud. Jared was going to become a public figure in the entairnment world so there was no reason to let his tongue run too freely. Besides the fact that Jared was up before Rister, who had a habit of being up by 5 AM latest should be telling enough for Lita.

“Oh, we’ll certainly not stick to tickling charms. At least I won’t have to,” Rister argued as he opened his eyes to send a decidedly wicked smirk to Layla as she joined them. “Ashlyn listens to my reasonings,” he added for Lita’s sake. Ashlyn coddled the child and Rister acknowledged there was reason for it. But Ashlyn was also only 15 and not always comfortable in her role of a guardian and mother-figure. So she listened when Rister had bluntly asked her why she thought Layla wouldn’t have to deal with unpleasant house-mates that Ashlyn herself knew so very well. Ashlyn hadn’t been happy, but Rister believed she had acknowledged in the end that Layla needed to be taught how to take care of herself. At least she hadn’t argued when Rister told her that he’d start duelling with Layla now and then and while he’d be careful to limit the power he put behind his spells and use spells Layla would actually stand a chance against, Rister would be pushing Layla to think on her feet and use everything she knew. “You’ll duel me later today?” Rister requested from Layla, reaching out a hand to absently tug on a blonde strand, “And you’re more than welcomed to keep recasting tickling charms during it.”

“Not if you all keep camping in my bed every now and then,” Rister grumbled quite good-naturedly, as all his siblings as well as Lita had a tendency to wander into his room when they couldn’t sleep or were troubled by something. “But it’s the Graas way. You can seek shelther and protection from from the male head of the family when on the family lands,” Gabriel reitered the old rule as he leaned his arms comfortably on the back of Rister’s chair, arching a questioning eye-brow at Rister. With a twitch of his lips Rister recognised the question and lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug even as he shook his head lightly. Nodding in return Gabriel carried on, turning towards Layla: “I have to let you know that it’s a quite terrifying experience for a six-and-half year old to have his father inform him that grown-ups occasionally do something more than cuddle each other like life-sized teddy bears in the evenings and that if I have a problem I need to first knock and then actually wait for an answer before coming in. I was scarred by life.” “Shame it doesn’t show,” Morgana cut in dryly as she tapped Rister’s shoulder before gesturing expectantly at an empty space on Rister’s right. Oblingingly Rister drew his wand once again to conjure a chair for her, the spell currently above Morgana’s abilities. “But you’ll be pleased to note that Ashlyn is making leeway into discovering the essence of that talk of yours as I did see her fiddling with the buttons of Damon’s shirt. Granted, she seemed to have got a bit of a wrong idea perhaps as she was closing the buttons again rather than ripping them open but I’m quite sure skin-to-skin contact couldn’t have been avoided,” Morgana carried on with the same bland tone as she took her seat. "We'll certainly need to help her get back on track then," Rister ecided with a smirk even as he reached to rather unsuccessfully smack Gabriel's hands away from his hair as Gabriel had tugged off the ribbon that had kept Rister's hair in a low pony-tail at the nape of his neck and was now in the process of twisting Rister's hair into a version of a French Twist.

[Lita Hollows R6]

The seven of us then. Whatever. Though I do wish that Snape would stop assigning detention; he spoils all my fun,” Lita mock-complained, her eyes flicking to Rister with hidden curiousity. She hadn’t known that Leandra had done something to deserve detention, not that it was hard when Snape was the professor in question. Even she had scrubbed cauldrons out for him more than once, and Potions had been her best subject right from her first year. Snape was probably as complimentary to her as he ever would be to someone who wasn’t a Slytherin. “He was probably more preoccupied with the difficulty of trying to wake you up,” she responded with a laugh, the blatant untruth serving to inform Rister that she understood what he had been trying to tell her. Rister was probably the easiest of all of them to wake though there had been bad nights when Lita had been up before him. Layla tugged at Lita’s arm sharply, staring at her with worried blue eyes once Lita lowered her head to be level with the younger girl on her lap. Smart kid, Lita acknowledged silently. Layla hadn’t been around them for even a year yet and she was already learning what was normal and what wasn’t. “He’ll be fine,” she murmured softly, keeping her voice hushed to exclude Meredith from the exchange. “He’ll tell you that himself tomorrow, alright?” Soothed but not entirely content, as the almost sulky twist to her mouth showed, Layla subsided once more.

Layla shrugged noncommittally in response to Rister’s question. Duelling with him was always fun and certainly a learning experience, which her inner Ravenclaw appreciated without question, but she was never particularly inclined to be sociable when surrounded by potential threats, which Meredith Garwin most certainly was. The Hufflepuff had proven that she could cause damage. Layla wasn’t going to test how much she was capable of causing, even if Lita seemed quite happily to experiment by continuously introducing this volatile element into their lives. She would doubtlessly end up being coaxed out of her silence later, when Meredith wasn’t there for Layla to cast dark glowers at and it was just her and Rister. It was easier to be disgruntled in Lita’s presence since she was the one to keep merrily dragging Meredith along after her much like a little puppy. Meredith shifted uncomfortably at the viciously amused glance sent in her direction from Layla, uncertain brown eyes landing on both Lita and Rister for assistance. Despite having two younger siblings of her own, this was one thing that she didn’t know how to deal with. Neither Pip nor Rosa had ever sent her a look that seemed to detail how much amusement her demise would cause for the owner of those blue eyes.

“I’m not in your bed that often. Certainly much less than I used to be,” Lita defended herself light-heartedly, biting back a snicker as Layla pulled a mildly disgusted face at Gabriel’s tale. As mature as she could be for an eleven year old, beds, for Layla, were still for merely sleeping in or sprawling over while reading. “That’s only because you prefer his godfather’s bed,” a dry voice interrupted abruptly, followed by Ashlyn conjuring herself a chair with clear irritation. “Hawthorne was asking questions about my permission slip. I have to see her after the tournament,” she explained to satisfy the looks that silently questioned her bad temper. Ignoring Morgana’s and Rister’s commentary on her life, except for reaching out to quickly smack Rister’s arm with less sharpness than would have been used a few months before, Ashlyn turned to Merry inquisitively before raising an eyebrow at Rister apprehensively. “Much as I hate asking,” Ashlyn drawled slowly, “which one of you has been adopting strays this time? I know it wasn’t Damon, because he was with me and he’s not nice enough to decide to keep a stray Hufflepuff, and I highly doubt it was Layla. My guess would normally by Gabriel, because Garwin’s a girl, but I don’t think that’s the right answer this time.”

[Professor Artemis Hawthorne]

Dismissing the last person in her queue, Artemis collected the permission slips from Minerva’s side of the room to file away later. For the moment, she merely placed them in a bag (hexed to keep anyone but herself and Minerva from handling it) that would be taken up to the Transfiguration classroom along with Minerva and the students who wished to sit in on her lecture. Retaking the stage, she called for silence, satisfied by the quick enough response that she received from the students in front of her. Duelling wasn’t a game; it required sharp reflexes for safety and survival, and obedience since they were only just starting out in their learning. “Anyone interested in Professor McGonagall’s lecture on etiquette and technique should follow her now, if you have not already left as I asked you to earlier.” Sure enough, a few sheepish children trailed after Minerva as she strode through the doors, her quick pace forcing them to hurry along behind her. “The first duels will be between the first to fourth years to, hopefully, lead up to what should be a more advanced level of duelling between the fifth to seventh years,” Artemis announced, summoning the enchanted parchment that had paired up the participants of the tournament.

“This parchment is one often used in professional tournaments,” she informed her students, briefly holding it up to emphasise her point for the few curious faces among her audience. It was also used in the underground duels that often ended in serious injury but that wasn’t something that she was going to share with them. It might not end in her being fired if she revealed the existence of the dangerous illegal tournaments and a student proceeded to become involved in one and subsequently receive some form of debilitating injury but it certainly wouldn’t look good on her record. “It is enchanted to record the names and ages of each participant and then pair people up for each duel to ensure fairness in every way possible. So no professors have had a hand in deciding who duels who. If you feel too intimidated by your opponent to continue and so decide to bow out of your duel then simply place your wand on the stage when it is time for your duel. There is no shame in knowing when to back down. It will, however, result in your withdrawal from the tournament and it will be recorded as a loss for that duel.”

Artemis passed over the first three pairings on the parchment with her index finger, nodding to herself in quiet satisfaction when six silver envelopes materialised and proceeded to hover in front of the person whose name had summoned them. “The pair opening the tournament will be Anna Smythe, a first year Gryffindor, and Belinda Warner, a first year Ravenclaw. Following them will be Owen Larson, a first year Hufflepuff, and Keira Niall, also a first year Hufflepuff. Then Morgana Graas, a second year Slytherin, and Thom Kayce, a second year Ravenclaw, will duel.”

Looking slightly unsure and vaguely nauseous to be the first chosen, Anna and Belinda ascended the steps to the stage then took up their positions facing each other. After Artemis’ gentle reminder for them to bow, they each drew their wands. An attempt at Expelliarmus from Belinda started the duel while Artemis kept a sharp eye on the spells used and any small injuries incurred. The duel didn’t last long, with neither girl really knowing enough spells to end the duel quickly nor to draw it out enough to be entertaining. A lucky shot from Anna paid off as Belinda’s wand dropped from her hand. Calling an end to the duel after Belinda scrambled to get her wand back into her grasp and Anna picked it up only when the other girl was nearly close enough to grab at it, Artemis waved Owen and Keira onto the stage while simultaneously running a finger over the parchment to warn Alaric Montgomery, fourth year Slytherin, and Emma Houghton, fourth year Gryffindor, that they would be duelling after Morgana and Thom. Once Keira managed to defeat Owen, she beckoned to Morgana Graas and Thom Kayce expectantly.

((The dice rules that Morgana has 9 points. Thom has 10.))

[Rister Graas S6]

“Hexing in the classroom. Apparently I used a more volatile jinx than Snape appreciated having near his ingredients,” Leandra announced as she raced past Merry – most likely quite deliberatedly bumping into her side – before jumping into Rister’s lap, making him grunt. Leandra might be a relatively light girl but even so having the impact forcefully emptied Rister’s lungs from oxygen for a moment. “I didn’t miss you nearly as much as you obviously missed me,” Rister grunted as he regained his breath, even as he shifted a bit in his chair and allowed Leandra to settle in comfortably. “You let Lita steal my chair, so you need to make up for it now,” Leandra exclaimed with a little pleased smile as she dropped her head backwards onto Rister’s shoulder, “Anyway, I’m actually quite glad about the detention. I read about an interesting medieval recipe the other day and I wanted to ask Snape about it.”

Layla’s and Lita’s quiet conversation didn’t escape notice and Rister leaned closer, tugging slightly on Layla’s blonde hair to get her attention. “He’ll probably finish after our make-shift tournament is over so we can go and meet him once he’s finished and have him buy treats to us?” Rister suggested quietly to Layla, arching a curious eye-brow at Lita as well. For that matter they could all probably go and harass Jared over his nerves after their make-shift tournament. It wouldn’t be the first time for them all to sneak out of the castle and it was the weekend so a somewhat later bedtime shouldn’t matter too much.

“True that. But you arne’t in Italy that often either and you never exactly had the habit of crawling into my bed in the Slytherin dorms,” Rister countered absently. Lita had burst into the Slytherin boys dorms often enough – all of Rister’s dorm-mates had learned swiftly and always wrapped at least a shower around them – but she had rarely spent the entire night napping on Rister’s bed. “Good girl,” Rister praised Layla with a wink at her grimace. Layla and Ashlyn were part of the family and the Graas brothers were protective of Layla too. A boy or two had already met a brandished wand and a dark glower over getting too close to the young blonde. Rister dropped his head back to study Ashlyn curiously at her explanation. “Might have been guessed I suppose,” Rister mulled out, angling his head a bit to catch Damon’s eye as he leaned on the back of Rister’s chair, “Need me to stick around and be the big bad heir?” “I’m of age so the explanation about legal guardianship should be enough. If she has doubts she can always dab Veritaserum on my signature or ask me to sign a new parchment with age-legality charm,” Damon responded, smacking Rister’s forehead lightly as they ignored the random kids stepping up to the duelling stage, “She had no right to ask for anything more as it concerns our private lives.”

“Lita. She’s wondering where to store the little stray and currently under Rister's bed seems to be the option she likes most,” Gabriel responded to Ashlyn even as he moved forward to drop to sit on the ground before Rister. “Will you take her along for our tournament later?” Leandra suddenly questioned, her green eyes – Merry might find them to be similar of Cleo’s – narrowed on the Hufflepuff. Leandra huffed at the raised eye-brows coming her way, her smirk positively wicked. “What? Don’t even try to claim you wouldn’t like to soundly whoop her behind. What better excuse than a duel?” Leandra drawled out, her words having the rest send considering glances at Meredith, “Damona nd Ashlyn and Lita shouldn't have many problems with that as well as drawing the loss out and underlining it, although we can’t really let her face Rister though, as she’d probably swoon in a dead faint before Rister even raises his wand. No fun in that.” Rister snorted quietly at the mental image, even as he dug his fingers into Leandra’s ribcage, having the redhead in his lap bursting into laughter.

With her name being called, Morgana calmly uncurled herself from her chair, turning to face Rister. Lifting her right hand sideways before her, Morgana bowed to Rister. An old gesture some purebloods might recognise as a sign of respect and acknowledgement of authority. Only after Rister’s nod of acceptance and a gesture freeing Morgana to head to the stage did Morgana straighten for her bow and make her way over to where Hawthorne indicated. Inclining her head in a bow – smaller than what she had given Rister – Morgana thoughtfully rubbed a thumb over her lips. Rister smirked at the gesture, realising that Morgana was planning on getting the psychological advantage if she could. Slowly raising her wand, Morgana studied the Ravenclaw boy, clearly waiting for him to cast the first spell.

[Merry Garwin H6]

Merry stumbled slightly when the red-headed blur knocked into her but regained her footing silently and with her eyes lowered to the floor. One of the very first lessons of fighting was to recognise when you had been beaten, as well as when you were surrounded by those who, at the very least, would not support you even if they would not be outright hostile. Despite Lita being the reason Merry was even there, she would not step in to speak up for her, Merry knew. She could never rival the Graas’ in terms of Lita’s affection, nor did she wish to. If she was being truthful, all she really wanted was the peace and distance to truly accept that she had lost her chance with Rister almost before it had even begun. Her life would be a lot less conflicted if Lita would stop dragging her into close proximity with Rister as if she could make Merry believe that Rister wanted her.

Layla regarded Rister through slightly suspicious and guarded blue eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. She was fond of Jared, and would fret over how he was doing after such a big moment until she saw him again. Since she rarely slept the whole night through as it was, ambushing him after his recording session would probably be a good idea. There was one thing that she had to ensure before agreeing to anything though. Frustrated with herself for not being able to summon her voice just because Meredith was with them, Layla tilted her head in the Hufflepuff’s direction pointedly, both eyebrows raised sardonically. If Meredith was invited, Layla wasn’t going, whether it was to see Jared or not.

“That’s not entirely true,” Lita mused thoughtfully, one hand tugging at the ends of her hair as she spoke. “For one thing, I spend most of the summer with you in Italy. It’s not my fault if you don’t think that’s enough time to spend in my presence. Many people would agree with you, of course, because I’m simply that fabulous but that’s beside the point. And you’ve forgotten about that time in...third year, I think it was. I spent at least half the night in your bed for nearly a week. Flitwick was convinced that you were ‘spoiling my innocence’ when he found out, remember? Kris’ response to the accusation probably didn’t help matters but it certainly made me laugh, at least.” Ashlyn was looking interested in the story so Lita grinned, silently telling the younger girl that she would tell her about it in more detail later. It took a moment but Ashlyn understood enough to grin back and nod, her expression telling Lita that she would be held to that promise.

Layla rolled her eyes at Rister’s approval. It wasn’t like he needed to worry about her being involved in nefarious engagements. She was a bit young, for a start, and she wasn’t pretty enough for boys to even look her way, never mind daring to brave her newfound protectors. Still, there was always the hope that she would grow up to resemble Ashlyn. Her cousin was beautiful, and the way Damon looked at her only emphasised that fact. So maybe if she matured to look a bit like Ashlyn, someone would one day look at her with even a fraction of the emotion that Damon watched Ashlyn with.

“Must I be referred to as a stray?” Merry asked dryly, almost shrinking back at having so many eyes turned on her at the same time. “I do actually have a home, you know. But if one of you must own me, can I at least request that you remember to feed me every day?” It didn’t escape her notice that Layla visibly stiffened and sent a questioning glare at Leandra when she suggested inviting Merry to their private duelling tournament so she shook her head with a shy smile. “I think I’ll pass on that invitation, if whoever is currently my ‘owner’ doesn’t mind. You might have more fun without beating me, as hard as that may be for some of you to believe.”

“Nice,” Ashlyn commented with a delighted smile, eyes fixed on the exchange between Morgana and Rister. “That’s from the fifteenth century, you know. It doesn’t fit the situation entirely since Rister’s not the ultimate authority over Morgana but, I suppose, in Hogwarts, he is, since none of you seem to acknowledge the professors or Prestimion as having an authority except for serving their detentions.” Ashlyn frowned suddenly, turning to Damon guardedly. “I’m not doing something similar when it’s my turn to duel,” she warned him, oblivious to the confusion displayed by Merry, who was trying to figure out why Ashlyn would defer to Damon as having authority over her as well as why he would be signing her permission slip. “I don’t care if it’s tradition or not, I’m not even kneeling in front of you and waiting for your agreement to let me fight, especially when I’m not even fighting for your sake.”

[Adrian Hollows]

Damon Graas

There were three pairs of eyes that observed Merry’s reaction to being bumped into be Leandra and three people that thoughtfully considered her common sense in not making a big deal out of it. Smart of the girl, Damon acknowledged mentally as he spared a glance at Rister, wondering what went on in his mind. Sometimes he wished someone could read Rister as easily as Ashlyn could read Damon’s own moods. What attracted Rister to Meredith? Rister had dated – and slept with – far prettier girls. Although knowing Rister that might be a part of it. Meredith wasn’t unbelievably beautiful, no. But he was pretty and Rister acknowledged that. Rister had never wanted – nor needed – a trophy wife after all. But there had to be something else; something that Rister saw in that meek and seemingly rather weak-willed girl. Damon was simply grateful he had Ashlyn, even if she might not admit it yet.

“No,” Rister stated at that moment with a shake of his head, the word a part of a conversation he seemed to be having with Layla, but it also served as something to shake Damon out of his thoughts. Damon laughed as Lita recalled her third year. He had been old enough to remember the occasion. “Wonder if Flitwick would worry about my innocence too if I took to crawling into Ashlyn’s bed,” Damon mused out loud, quite prepared for the glare from Ashlyn. Nudging Ashlyn lightly Damon perhed himself on the chair she had conjured earlier and grinned lazily at the rest. “Rister’s the bad boy, you need to crawl into his bed and leave Ashlyn to me,” Gabriel was quick to interject, before he sighed almost despairingly. “Of course it’s so unfair that Rister has had a girl get a sheep for him and no girl has done that for me.” Gabriel didn’t require prompting as he angled his head to tell this story to the two blondes in the midst. “Another Slythie asked Rister if which was more to his taste – poor people, brunettes or shepherdess.” A dig at Lita in a way Damon mused but none of the Graas’ felt any need to point that out. “Rister decided he preferred poor brunette shepherdesses and a girl actually brought along a lamb to school with her by the end of the week. Would you bring a sheep for me, Layla?” Gabriel carried on, wriggling his fingers as if threatening to tickle Layla should she responded negatively.

“Lita titled you. Friendly nicknames need to be earned,” Leandra remarked smartly from her perch in Rister’s lap only to have Rister lightly smack the side of her leg. “You’re ruining all my fun,” Leandra complained as she threw her arms around Rister’s neck with a pout. “Mmmmhm, behave,” Rister remarked calmly, ignoring the pout designed to soften an older brother. For a moment the two glared at each other – the look in both of their eyes something Merry would undoubtedly call hostile – before Leandra burst out laughing and Rister allowed himself a light smirk as well as Leandra turned to lounge with her back against Rister’s chest once more.

“Really?” Damon asked, not that he doubted Ashlyn’s knowledge. “I knew the gesture but I had no idea it was that old. I’ll tell you about the Graas family head initiation sometime. That’s old as well.” And something Ashlyn would probably one day go through first hand when Rister took up the family head’s duties, but Damon had no desire to think of that right now. He did think Rister could handle the job, but the job also meant that Dad wouldn’t be there to do it anymore. “Rister is the heir and off age. He does hold more authority over us than the professors.” Amused laughter bubbled out Damon at Ashlyn’s worry and he threw an arm around Ashlyn’s shoulders in a half-hug. “I wasn’t expecting it. I hadn’t really thought of the gesture even, but now that Morgana reminded me you’ll simply have to stomach me bowing to Rister.” “Oh great, how big of a spectacle are you all going to make?” Rister grumbled from his chair with a roll of his eyes.

[Adrian Hollows]

Ashlyn Swallow

“Leandra, you’re a wonderfully smart girl,” Ashlyn mused, a small, wicked smile curving her mouth for a moment before her usual implacable expression faded back into place. More because of Layla’s reaction to the Hufflepuff than because of Morgana, who could look after herself even if Ashlyn had found Meredith’s actions distasteful to say the least, Meredith Garwin was not, in her eyes, welcome among them. Even Layla, a mere child of eleven years old, had handled Morgana’s revelation better than the almost-adult that Meredith was supposed to be. It showed a lack of compassion and common sense with even more clarity than Meredith’s following avoidance of Rister had highlighted her cowardice and lack of inner strength. “Do try to be more subtle when dealing with those you may not be exceptionally fond of. You may, after all, need them one day.” Ashlyn paused deliberately, dismissing Lita’s warning look with a slow blink of cool blue eyes. “Some people excel in destroying potential connections without even showing much effort; they tend to be useful in dealing with those you dislike even more than themselves. Or they could simply be used to feed the dogs.”

Layla nodded sharply, the tightness around her eyes easing at the reassurance. Regardless of how hard Lita seemed to be trying to change matters, the reality continued to be that Meredith simply wasn’t treated with more than borderline civility by most of them. And how odd, Layla contemplated, that she was suddenly part of a ‘them’. For most of her life, she had simply been ’her’, solitary but willing to be part of a group. Now there was apparently a new family building itself around her, even if she couldn’t forget about her parents. There was still the memory of her mother and father happy together, still the last image of blackened flesh charred by flames, still the occasional, maddening expectancy that the owl heading her way at the breakfast table would hold a letter from her father. It never did, of course. Still, she didn’t need him. Meredith was much like Layla’s father though, running away when things got tough without a second glance or a thought for those who might be hurt by her actions. Hypocritical though it might seem from the girl who wouldn’t speak, Layla hated cowards. Maybe that was part of why she loved Jared and Rister and Morgana and their family; they had the strength of will that she couldn’t see in herself.

“If you crawl into my bed, it will be your inevitable injuries, not your doubtful virtue, that will be cause for concern,” Ashlyn snapped, a heated blush painting her pale skin. Damon always felt the need to embarrass her in some way, which infuriated her. The idea of affection aimed in her direction had been hard enough for her to come to terms with; physical intimacy wasn’t something she was ready to even joke about. Besides, they weren’t even dating! Turning her head away from Damon pointedly, Ashlyn focused on Gabriel’s story, the corner of her mouth lifting faintly. She vaguely remembered a lamb trotting through the school one year, though she hadn’t bothered to ask why. Other people acting stupidly hadn’t been her concern. “I was actually quite impressed,” Lita told Ashlyn with a sardonic smile. “Sure, they got the animal wrong since I rear horses, not sheep, but it’s supposed to be quite flattering to have people aspire to be me, especially when they go to such effort. Admittedly, it was more fun to mock the poor, hopeful girls by making a spectacle of asking Rister if he would wear a jumper that I wanted to make for him myself, using wool from my own nonexistent sheep, of course.” Ashlyn and Layla grinned slightly at the anecdote, both becoming equally acquainted with similar insults aimed at them. After all, Ashlyn was widely regarded as Damon’s girlfriend while no one could really understand why such interest was being taken in a seemingly mute first year. Layla’s mouth thinned in frustration, nails curling hard into her palms at the unintentional reminder that she was too weak to actually offer an answer. The laughter in her eyes faded to a dull, stormy blue as she shook her head at Gabriel curtly.

“I’m going to want proper details, so you had better make sure you know everything before you start telling me about it,” Ashlyn warned Damon seriously, eyes bright with anticipation. The bond between them wouldn’t necessarily allow Ashlyn access to the initiation of Rister as the Graas family head once Kris died but Damon would likely extend an invitation to her anyway. As much as she knew it would eventually happen, the idea seemed laughable. After all she had seen and heard of him, Kris seemed somehow indestructible, beyond the reaching grasps of death and mortality. Shaking off her despondent thoughts, Ashlyn raised an eyebrow upon somehow finding Damon’s arm over her shoulders and herself comfortably leaning against him, head resting lightly on his shirt. Lita smirked at her slyly before turning to Rister with a short bark of laughter: “I vote we bow to Rister before our duels. After all, he’s practically my brother, and he may as well be Ashlyn’s brother-in-law, all things considered.”