Johnny slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The soft glow of the hospital wing lights illuminated the room, casting a sense of calmness. As his vision cleared, he saw a familiar face sitting next to him.

"Pansy?" he croaked, his voice weak from days of unconsciousness.

Pansy turned her head towards him, her eyes filled with relief and tears welling up. A smile spread across her face, a mix of joy and worry. "Johnny! You're awake!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

She reached out and gently took his hand in hers, her touch warm and comforting. Johnny felt a wave of reassurance wash over him as he squeezed her hand weakly.

"How long... How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Pansy's expression softened, and she brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. "It's been almost two weeks," she replied with a mixture of relief and sadness. "But you're going to be okay now. We've all been waiting for you to wake up."

Johnny's mind struggled to process the time that had passed. Two weeks seemed like an eternity, and yet it felt like only moments since he had been flying on the Quidditch pitch. Memories of the accident flooded back, the gasps of the crowd, the crack of his skull, and the pain.

"I... I remember the Bludger hitting me," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of pain and vulnerability. "It hurt so much."

Pansy's eyes filled with tears, and she leaned closer, her voice trembling with emotion. "You scared us, Johnny. We were so worried about you. But you're strong, and you're going to get through this."

"Pansy... I don't know what I would do without you," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and a newfound understanding of their bond.

Pansy smiled through her tears, her grip on his hand tightening. "You don't have to find out, Johnny. I'm here for you, always."

Three evenings later and Johnny was up and about like nothing happened.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Blaise, rushing into the boy's dormitory where Pansy laid on Johnny's bed with his Quidditch jumper over her uniform, Daphne sat beside Johnny at his desk helping him catch up on the mountain of schoolwork he missed. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."

"What, you reckon the Basilisk can duel?" said Pansy, but she, too, had her interest in it.

"Could be useful," Johnny said to Daphne, Pansy, Blaise and Theo as he leant back in his seat. "Shall we go?"

They were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening, the group hurried back to the Great Hall from the Dungeons. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school eemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Theo as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not -" Johnny began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

"Fuck my life," Johnny mumbled, glaring at the look of admiration on Daphne's face.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Actually," Snape's monotone voice was heard, as Snape glanced between Johnny and Lockhart. "I was thinking we have a little student teacher duel? Shall we say, Grindelwald and yourself?"

"Now, Severus I think that's a little un-"

"I think Mr. Grindelwald is more than capable of duelling a teacher," Snape's lips curled into a smirk. "You have heard who his grandfather is, haven't you?"

"I-I," Lockhart stuttered before he motioned for Johnny to join him up on the stage.

"Go on Johnny!" All the boys yelled in support while most of the girls stayed quiet.

"Good luck," Pansy told him with a smile.

Lockhart and Johnny turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Johnny jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Blaise murmured to Theo and Pansy, watching Johnny baring his teeth.

"One - two - three--"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent.

"Locomotor Mortis!" There was a dazzling flash of light and Lockhart's legs were locked together. "Stupefy!" Johnny yelled to finish Lockhart off. The Professor flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

The Slytherin's and some of the Gryffindor's, including Weasley, Potter and Lyons, cheered. Johnny noticed that Pansy was looking at him with more admiration in her eyes than when she looked at Lockhart, and Johnny grinned stupidly to himself as Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Leg-lock curse and the stunning spell - as you could see, my legs were locked and I was stunned - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Johnny, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

"Shall we go for best of three?" Johnny offered, his confidence growing as he saw Pansy staring at him. Then Johnny was looking murderous as he looked back at Lockhart as he was shaking his head. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, and Johnny seeing as you're a fine dueller, if you'd like to help me--"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Johnny reached Potter, Granger, Lyons and Weasley first.

"Orders from Snape, he thinks it's time to split up the dream team," Johnny said, following Snape's orders. "Weasley, orders say you're with Finnigan. Lyons--"

Lyons moved automatically toward Granger.

"I don't think so," said Snape, approaching. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. Lyons, with Mr. Zabini, and you, Miss Granger - you can partner Miss Bulstrode."

Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked Millicent Bulstrode. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Granger gave her a weak smile that she didn't return.

"Good luck," Johnny whispered in Granger's ear, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three--"

Harry swung his wand high, but Malfoy had already started on "two": His spell hit Potter so hard he felt as though he'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Potter pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "Rictusempra! "

A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Potter had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing. Potter hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to bewitch Malfoy while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake; gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Potter's knees, choked, "Tarantallegra!" and the next second Potter's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Johnny took charge.

"Finite Incantatem!" Johnny shouted; Potter's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.

"If you can't control a duelling class, Professor," Johnny spat. "Maybe you should leave and get competent teachers in your place. Maybe Professor Snape and Flitwick? Competent teachers who wouldn't lose to a thirteen-"

But Johnny was cut off by a loud bang. A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Weasley was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologising for whatever his broken wand had done; but Granger and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Granger in a headlock and Granger was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor.

"Flipendo!" Johnny cried, pointing at Bullstrode. The burly Slytherin girl let go and Granger rushed towards him and hugged Johnny around the middle.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you get, Macmillan... Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second."

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape and Johnny, both teacher and student were glaring at him, and he looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you--"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Round Two of Grindelwald vs Lockhart? Or Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Potter! Malfoy! Excellent idea!" said Lockhart quickly, gesturing Potter and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Johnny smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited--"

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Potter out of the corner of his mouth.

Johnny patted Potter on the shoulder in support.

"Just do what I did, Harry!" Said Lockhart happily.

"What, drop his wand?" Johnny sneered, but Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded. Johnny watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Potter standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Johnny heard Potter hissing and knew at once was this was. Parsltongue. Snake language. Johnny looked at his four friends who were already looking at him.

Potter looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Potter could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

Johnny stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Potter in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look.

"Did you see the way Johnny took down Lockhart?" Pansy exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration when they made it back to the boy's dormitory.

"I must say, I was quite impressed," Daphne chimed in, a hint of awe in her voice.

Theo, always the observant one, added, "Lockhart never stood a chance," he grinned, jumping on his bed.

Johnny, basking in the praise, grinned and said, "Thanks, guys."

Pansy, unable to tear her eyes away from Johnny, gushed, "You were incredible! I've never seen anyone duel like that before."

Johnny's smile widened, blushing under the attention. "I've been practicing a lot. I'm glad it paid off."

Blaise, always one to bring the conversation back to reality, interjected, "Speaking of impressive feats, did you hear Potter speaking Parseltongue?"

The group fell silent as they contemplated the significance of Potter's revelation.

Daphne broke the silence, her voice filled with curiosity. "I wonder what it means. Could he be the true Heir of Slytherin?"

Theo, ever the voice of reason, shook his head. "Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know the whole story."

Blaise, raising an eyebrow, added, "Besides, it was Johnny that set the Basilisk loose, not Potter."

Johnny smirked mischievously, his eyes glowing red, revelling in the irony. "Funny how rumors can twist the truth."