warnings: swearing
word count: 2645

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Cesira let out a deep breath, tightening the leather armbands borrowed from her old Quidditch uniform. Penny walked up to her, adjusting the fabric of her dueling robes so that everything looked neatly in place.

"How do I look?" Asked Cesira, hiding her bubbling anxiety with a smirk.

Penny blushed and took a step back to admire the midnight blue silk wrapping around her body under dragonskin body shields carved with all sorts of decors that reminded her of her former house.

"You look like royalty to me."

The witches smiled and started walking to the Great Hall, where the duel was due.
As they entered a round of applause roared from her most affectionate students, yet the Ravenclaws were the loudest much to everyone's surprise: it wasn't usual to see two of the most powerful wizards from their often overlooked house be under the spotlight.

Cesira hid her true feelings with a nod to her students. The agony of failing gentled its grasp once a soft hand took hers.

She looked down and saw Penny giving her an encouraging smile that made her agitated insides bathe in warmth for a split second.

"You got this, I believe in you."

Cesira caressed her hand with her thumb before letting her step back from the long, narrow platform that substituted the traditional four tables.

Professor Flitwick gave her a wink from the far end of the hall, his wand in hand. Cesira mirrored his movement.

She looked through the audience and expected Albus to do the honors, yet Minerva placed herself between the two and, with one hand raised, made everyone silent.

"I will be brief: I want this fair and clean." She darted a knowing look at Cesira, who bit the inside of her cheek.

"Now, it is tradition to choose your second. You have one minute to decide."

The deputy Headmistress didn't give space to solemn announcements nor wavered on foolish wishes. She was brief and straight to the point.
Cesira took comfort in thinking she did this to avoid further distress in her.

"Minerva, if you'd do me the honor," spoke up Flitwick, bowing to McGonagall.

"Very well." She strood up to her colleague and placed herself a few steps behind the protection ward that engulfed the duelers not to destroy nor harm whoever assisted.

Cesira exchanged an unreadable glance with her, conscious that she didn't choose her on purpose.
No. She was, in fact, choosing to walk the hardest path to come out stronger.

"My second will be Professor Snape."

A muffled gasp spread through the crowd, Penny shook her head with a worried face. She had a gut feeling this was a bad, bad decision.

"I accept." Rumbled a soft, silky voice erupting from the crowd of Slytherins who started silently betting on how fast it would take for their head of house to step in and save the one responsible for their fall from 1st to 3rd rank in the House Cup.

Snape looked her up and down, pursing his lips at her disgusting choice of clothing he judged as cheeky if not entirely worthy of an arrogant Gryffindor pleased with making everything about them.

"Good luck, Blyde. Looks like you'll need it." He murmured loud enough only for her to hear and roll her eyes.

The two duelists walked up and stopped in front of each other with their wands before their faces, bowing profoundly until they needed to get back to their designated posts underlined by moons on the runway carpet underneath their boots.

"On your guard!" Shouted Minerva.

Flitwick simply raised his wand with a hand on his hip whilst Cesira crouched down with her free fist bent forward and her wand hand slightly above her head, an aggressive stance she taught her students.

White sparks exploded from Minerva's wand signaling the start of the duel and soon the Great Hall was filled with bolts of light of all sorts of colors and shapes, some spells were shouted whereas others were kept mute.

The students looked in pure awe at the fascinating show the two wizards were putting on: never backing down from their positions, whipping their wands elegantly, and casting spells they didn't know the existence of.

Cesira was tranquil. They were only warming up to show their muscles.

Albeit she was taken by surprise when Flitwick directed a huge wave of blue fire at her, accompanied by a loud 'ohh' from the students. She quickly casted a shield, absorbing the impact of the potent charm until she felt the sheer magic of it enter her wand, filling it to the brim. 

That was when she opened her arms ajar and returned the flames to their caster with major force.

They kept playing fair and square for other ten minutes of incessant charms and jinxes, Cesira dodged spells and earned a decent amount of cuts on her protections.

When a voice she loathed slithered inside her head.

I know you want to do it.

God, no.

She kept her seige going, focused on ignoring his voice meant to deceive her. He was one unfair bastard.

It's here, in your head. You know a lot of curses that could make you win in an instant.

Her siege grew more violent, and now bombing roars echoed through the thick walls as aggressive, yet permitted, spells impacted against each other in a crescendo.

She caught a glimpse of sweat on Filius' face and a warning frown on Minerva's.

You are getting bored. This is wasted time, don't you see?
All it takes is one dark curse, and the crown will be yours.

Don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him.

Cesira casted a childish flipendo maxima, conjuring a small tornado that threw Filius against the ward, but it didn't disharm him.

What are you, a first year? You can't win without them. You have no chance against him with these abecederian charms.

Cesira redirected a stupefy behind her, making it explode right before Snape's face, who didn't flinch, unlike everyone near him.

You're weak.

Filius clapped his hand against his wand, shooting arrows at his former student who immediately conjured a protego, struggling as the pointy ends of the arrows slowly penetrated her ward.

With nerves howling the witch made a circle with her wand, fighting against his spell to make the arrows turn around. When they did, she shot them right back at the wizard, who managed to protect himself at the last minute.

There she saw it, a window of opportunity.

Cast it. I know you want to.

She saw Flitwick stumble back, and as fast as she could she lunged forward.

"Expelliarmus!"

His wand flew in her hand, and the protective ward disintegrated into confetti gracefully falling over her head.

She didn't hear the applause at first, only a pounding ache in her head left from Snape after ravishing her mind to haunt her into using dark magic.

She turned to look at him, his face emotionless aside from his onyx eyes: he was berserk.

Cesira gave him her first, genuine, broad smile before running to Filius to help him up, shaking his hand.

"I'm proud of you my dear girl, I'm stunned!"

"It's all your doing Professor, I learned from the best."

She wanted to talk to Snape, to rub her win on his face, but as soon as she returned to her full height she was run over by a wave of shouting students celebrating her.

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"Is it true? Albus wants to reintroduce the long forgotten Clubs Tournament thanks to me?"

Cesira crossed her arms and leaned on the desk behind her, allowing her lips to make her come across as utterly smug by the news.
She was having a lighthearted chat with Minerva and Madam Hooch in the senior witch's office.

"And thanks to Penny Beechwood. Students are keen to further their studies in potions and other wandless subjects due to her sheer commitment to campaign for the things she's passionate about."

Cesira's sapphire eye gleamed in pride at the thought of that kindhearted young woman being able to finally receive the praises she deserved ever since she met her years ago.

"This will only increase competition between students," pointed out the middle aged witch with short gray hair in a juvenile grin.

"I like the sound of that," concluded Cesira.

"What is my role in this Minerva?"

The Head of Gryffindor stood up and gently placed a black and golden pin on her chest picturing the head of a dragon.

"You will be the Dean of the Dragon Club, which will include the following subjects," she started writing with her wand on a blackboard conjured at the moment. "Flying, Quidditch, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Duelling."

Rolanda clapped in excitement and gave Cesira a strong, friendly smack on the shoulder which would have made her flinch in hurt if she wanted to show her decaying physical status.

"With this tough one here we already have the Cup in our hands."

Cesira curled the corners of her lips as a response to the brooding woman next to her, pleading silently that Minerva would continue so as to avoid getting hit again.

"I will be the Dean of the Sphinx Club
which will include Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic and Astronomy."

Cesira sighed. "I was hoping to partner with you one last time Minnie."

Professor McGonagall grinned lightly.

"Then I guess it will be easier for me to win."

"Not a chance Minerva." immediately retorted Madam Hooch.

The older witch then proceeded to conclude her introduction on the clubs with the Hippogriff one, where all the remaining subjects concerning nature and animals found their place.
Including Potions.

"Severus will be their Dean."

Cesira gaped at the despisable words Minerva just uttered.

"Him? Not Penny, the one who literally inspired all this?"

"Don't forget about you," added Rolanda with a mouth full of pride: two former Ravenclaws displaying of a whole club! She hadn't felt more cheerful since her last Quidditch game as a student.

"I don't care about me Madam Hooch, I care about the right people deserving what rightfully belongs to them."

"Calm down my girl, Penny is still an assistant, though I respectfully admire her spirit. Only a teacher can become a Dean."

What an absolute bullshit.

"But Min-"

"Enough." She put her in her place with one, strictly spoken word.

Cesira knew better than talking back to Minerva McGonagall and sealed her lips, maintaining a permanent paint of disapproval on her face.

"Severus is a harsh man, I know that better than you Cesira. He has his reasons, and I trust him to be completely deserving of carrying such a title. When he will be informed be sure he will give us the hardest of times in pursuing hellbent on our common goal."

She talked quietly, as if instructing her Quidditch mates on the game strategy.

"Are you already teaming with us Minerva?" Rolanda broached her.

She gave them a mischievous smile.

"I would do anything to make him lose. Slytherin has won the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup for almost a decade and I will not tolerate another year of being incapable of looking at him in the face."

Cesira broke her ice cold demeanor to gift her a devilish wide smirk. She could hear the shattered Gryffindor pride roar inside her former teacher's chest.

"We will make your Quidditch team brand new Minerva, may he bite dust."

Another strong smack found its connection to her shoulder.

"That's the spirit my dear! Merlin, I feel like a boisterous student all over again!"

Madam Hooch sprinted outside her office to prepare her renewed program, leaving the two witches alone.

Minerva caressed her violated shoulder to ease the soreness.

"I'll talk to her."

"No need Minnie, she's just euphoric."

A deep sigh clouded her wrinkled face, drowning her latter fierceness in what could've been a mere creaking flame.

"I meant what I said. About Severus. He is a good man, you owe him the time he needs to prove it."

Cesira yanked her shoulder away from her touch as if suddenly burned to the bones.

"I owe him nothing."

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"Professor Blyde! When will we start training?!"

"Professor, ma'am, please choose me!"

"Can we duel tomorrow?"

Thunderstorms of children engulfed Cesira from the very moment she stepped off the higher table of the Great Hall after Minerva announced the restoring of Clubs on behalf of a departed Dumbledore.

She soon found herself circled by over excited kids dripping from every word she was to give voice to.
She found it stressing, yet she smiled.
Teeth and all.

"As Professor McGonagall early explained, only deserving students will be allowed to join the clubs. Thus, the ones we have eyed as righteous members will receive a letter no sooner than next week. If you haven't received your letter, that means you have to earn it."

She could see the disappointment in some less efficient students of her.

"You all have what it takes, you just got to prove it. Make us regret not sending you the letter first."

Students nodded fiercely.

"Well, why aren't you running to your lessons?"

After the last uniform billowed away from the hall she let out a small sigh of relief, mentally preparing herself to spend the next dawns scheming and jogging with teenagers only to beat that awful man.

She still had her revenge to see to.

Cesira walked up to Penny and Snape talking, well, she was talking.
He was staring idly at the grand door not even trying to listen to a word she was saying.

"I hope you too weren't cornered by hundreds of children," she cooed in full sarcasm, although only aimed at the brooding wizard.

"In my class Beechwood, sharp." ordered Snape without even darting one of his killer looks at her.

Ah, that must've burnt.

Penny gave her an embarrassed smile, running after the long strides of her tutor like a lost cub.

She hated how he treated her. The patronising tone, the pleasure he so clearly took in making her do a flip if he told her so.

"Don't forget our shift Professor Snape!"

Penny turned around and mouthed 'sorry he's in a bad mood' before his soothing voice thundered her last name, urging her to hurry at once.

I have just the treat for him tonight.

"Oh he's pissed." Madam Hooch came to her side with her hands on her hips, smug as ever.

"Rolanda!" scolded Minerva from afar as she was already instructing some students, mostly Ravenclaws, crawling at her feet to receive more information.

"You know dear, I always thought of you more as a Gryffindor," she absentmindedly commented, unaware of the pained expression Cesira swiftly covered up.

"That's absurd, I never liked red."

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When nightfall tossed billion stars over Hogwarts' towers, a faint knock ripped Cesira away from her schemes on the upcoming Club meetings.

She sneered and hid everything under a spell, opening the pine door to the man of the moment.

"Busy day, am I right?"

Snape rolled his eyes and tipped his head coldly to gesture her to follow his wide strides eating long narrow corridors in about ten steps.
Cesira was used to running anyway.

"So a-"

Snape immediately raised his hand, not stopping even if his life depended on it.

"Walk and look for dunderheads. No talk."

"Fair enough."

She heard him scoff at her talking when he so threatningly warned not to, focusing on his shift.

Cesira licked her lips, her eye fixed on his cloak floating behind him in the most dramatic manner. How strongly she longed to step on it and make him fall on his own bum.

He doesn't know he's in for a hell of a night.