Apprentice Potter
Verbal Sparing
By Draco664
Verbal Sparing
Moody and Zab chatted for a while, discussing some of the recent events of the wizarding world. The topics discussed amused me no end, since there didn't seem to be anything of earth-shattering importance brought up. Voldemort wasn't mentioned. Fudge's prospects at another term in office weren't discussed. It just seemed a little pointless to me.
Except that after a while, one thing struck me as... odd. The same words kept coming up, even when another would have been more precise, or more descriptive.
I'm not sure exactly what tipped me off that they were speaking in code, but a while before we left the pub I knew they were discussing things that had nothing to do with what it appeared they were talking about.
I spent some time examining this wizard who was going to be my teacher. Master? Instructor? I didn't even know what his title would be once I started; what I would be calling him.
Why had I agreed to this in the first place? I mean, I hadn't exactly spent a great deal of time thinking about the consequences of my actions, I had just jumped at the chance to get out from under Dumbledore's thumb.
Now, I was stuck with this fellow, who I didn't know from a hippogriff. For all I knew, he was a clone of Snape.
No, thinking about it logically, Moody knew him. He acted like Moody too, not exactly as paranoid, but just as cautious.
Judging from the questions he asked of my blue-eyed escort when we first arrived, I'd have to assume that he had spent time in the auror academy too. Maybe as a teacher as well as a student. He appeared younger than Moody, but then again, Moody appeared older than Dumbledore's grandmother with his collection of scars and missing body parts.
So, he was probably an ex-auror too, but had left the wizarding world. Fair enough, I could certainly understand that particular desire.
Zab's robes were an old style, that much I could make out. But once I looked closer, I noticed that the material was quite fine and the cut was obviously designed for comfort. Though no expert, I'd guess they were probably very expensive when actually purchased. The colour had faded over the decades, but this man was obviously either well off, or had been in the past.
His eyes were hazel, and often expressed his mirth at one of Moody's reminiscences. The wrinkles around them gave him a distinguished air, though you'd never call this man venerable. He exuded far too much energy for that.
He was clean shaven, except for a small, well trimmed moustache and silver goatee. His accent was difficult to place, but he spoke quite clearly and very precisely. Not even McGonagall spoke so eloquently.
He lounged easily in his leather-backed chair, seemingly comfortable with his surrounds. That struck me as being a little off, given how paranoid he acted on our arrival. Looking closer revealed that Zab certainly wasn't as relaxed as he appeared. One of his hands was kept near his wand at all times, though he pulled off being casual about it remarkably well. He managed to hide his glances around the room within his bursts of laughter, and I was quite sure he could have described each and every person who entered the little pub.
Finally, after almost half an hour, the pair of old wizards rose to their feet. Moody withdrew a pendant from a pocket, one which I recognised as one which all Order members wore. He passed it to Zab. "That will transport the boy to a place where he is safe should anything happen. The command word is the previous owner's pet's name. He knows where I mean. The destination is unplottable, and under the protection of the Fidelius charm, so you won't be able to go there with him.
"I have a portkey on me that will take me there in-" Moody continued, pulling out a pocket watch. "-eight minutes." He placed the watch back within his robes. "I've left myself a message to explain the gap in my memory. Go ahead and Obliviate me."
Zab nodded. "Are you certain you do not want to delay that a few more minutes? It is disorienting enough having your memory adjusted without having to try and determine your surroundings."
Moody tilted his head to one side, then nodded. "Fine. Time for one last drink." he said, pulling out his ever-present hip flask and taking a nip.
~~~
In fact, Zab left it quite late, obliviating Moody only seconds before his portkey kicked in. I grinned wryly at the thought of how Mad-Eye Moody would react in his current situation. Stunned, with no memory of where he was and what he was doing, and being tugged to a new destination.
I hoped that no one was in the same room, or there would have been a rather interesting meeting. Lots of flashing lights and explosions. Pity it wasn't Guy Fawkes night.
Zab passed me a pinch of powder from a velvet pouch which he kept inside his robes. Though it was very much like floo powder, it just seemed to feel a little different.
"Toss it in that fire, lad." He said, indicating another, smaller fireplace. "That is a single-destination floo point. It will take you to your new home."
"Do I need to say a destination?" I asked.
"One thing you will learn about me, is that when I give instructions, they will be clear, concise, and complete." he said evenly.
I swallowed and nodded. I moved over to the smaller fireplace and tossed the powder in. Unlike normal floo, it didn't leave a trace on my palm, even though my hands were damp with nervous perspiration.
The flames flashed green, and I stepped through into what promised to be a rather unique adventure.
~~~
I twisted and turned in the floo system for a long time, much longer than any of my previous floo trips. I spun rapidly for what felt like hours before being launched through the exit. I fell to my knees, unable to maintain my balance. I did manage to retain the presence of mind to move away quickly from the fireplace so that when Zab arrived, he simply stepped out onto the carpet easily, rather than tripping over a uncoordinated git.
Zab extracted my shrunken trunk from a pocket and placed it in one corner of the room before returning it to its usual size. I took the time to look around the room.
Despite the obviously gothic influence, the sitting room was quite comfortably furnished. The centre of the room was dominated by a large, ancient dining table. My eyes flickered over the chairs, counting twenty-two 'normal' chairs, and a pair of high-backed, ornate seats that could easily be called thrones.
The two large chairs sat at either end of the long table, which could have been straight out of one of those old movies with two diners sitting at opposite ends and unable to talk to each other. Though no places were set, the grandeur was obvious to all.
The rest of the room was no less grand, but far less imposing. Three fireplaces dominated three of the four walls, the fourth contained a pair of massive double doors. Three full lounge sets were arranged around the fireplaces, ready for anyone to curl up in one of the large armchairs in front of a roaring fire.
Other items of furniture were arrayed around the room, including several bookshelves, two well stocked stores of potion ingredients, a liquor cabinet and a set of mahogany desks obviously set up for work.
Zab pulled out a chair at one end of the long table, and indicated that I should be seated in a chair next to him. "I imagine you are quite confused at the moment. You are in all probability wondering what fate has in store for you." He smiled. "Or at least what I have in store for you."
I nodded, pulling out the indicated chair. Oh boy, it was comfortable. Thoughts flew through my mind as I tried to determine exactly what to ask first. One thing popped into my mind, and it would probably answer a lot of other questions too.
"Why did you accept me? You obviously want nothing to do with the wizarding world."
Zab gently tapped his chin. "I have not completely severed my ties with the wizarding world, regardless of what you were told. Alastor is a good friend, and we do see each other occasionally." He snorted softly. "Very occasionally. My descendants are still well entrenched and visible within your world, my great-granddaughter even goes to Hogwarts." Zab's eyes turned distant and he smiled, a decade dropped instantly from his face making him appear quite youthful. "Actually, you will get to meet her tomorrow. She generally spends some time with me before heading back for the school year."
I froze. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Professor Moody wanted me to stay out of sight."
A set of perfect white teeth smiled at me. "Professor Moody, eh?"
I felt some heat flooding my cheeks. "Well, technically. But he never got to teach us."
"So he told me. I understand that you were the one who exposed his usurper."
I shook my head. I realised he had rather easily deflected my earlier question, but I was willing to humour him for now. "Crouch, that's the guy who took his place, decided to reveal himself to me at the end of my fourth year. He meant to kill me. Dumbledore and some of the other teachers saved me. That was when we found Professor Moody locked in his chest."
Zab nodded. "This Crouch. Was he any relation to Bartimous Crouch?"
I nodded. "That was his name, he was named for his father. Barty Crouch Snr. was a real nut when it came to catching Death Eaters. He had his son convicted and sentenced to Azkaban."
Zab frowned. "I recall Alastor ranting about it to me a few years ago. But didn't his son die there?"
I should my head. "Crouch Snr.'s wife convinced him to swap her for her son. She was dying anyway, so the dementors apparently didn't notice a difference. They each took polyjuice, taking on the other's appearance, and he was kept under house arrest from then on by his father. But he managed to escape with the help of another Death Eater who was free, and they helped completely revive Voldemort."
Zab raised his eyebrows. "My goodness, someone who can say the bastard's name without shivering. How curious."
"Now, can we get back to why I have to meet your great-granddaughter?"
Zab actually laughed. "You don't let anything distract you, do you?"
I wondered if this was a test. "Enough to realise that you still haven't answered my question."
"Is that so?"
I could feel my anger starting to bubble. "You haven't answered any of my questions at all."
Zab closed his eyes and rolled his neck from side to side, the vertebrae creaking. "I know. I'm rather pleased you noticed. As my apprentice, you are expected to learn. I don't have time to teach you."
"Does not one follow the other?"
Zab chuckled softly, but still didn't answer my question. "My great-granddaughter has complained bitterly about the standard of some of the teachers at Hogwarts over the years."
Still no answer. I decided to play along. It seemed to be the quickest way to get the answer to my questions. "I can imagine. Our Potions Professor is one of the worst teachers I have ever come across."
"One of the worst?" Zab questioned pointedly.
"Yeah. You never met my second year Defense Professor."
Zab tapped his chin. "Hm, you have just completed your fifth year, yes?" Zab waited for my nod. "Then you would be wrong."
I leaned back in my chair. "You have met Lockhart then." I said, deliberately phrasing it as a statement rather than a question.
"Gilderoy is a buffoon, though he has a real talent for memory charms."
"Had." I clarified.
"He died?" said Zab, clearly surprised. "The man is a coward through and through, what on earth possessed him to go into a dangerous situation?"
"He didn't. Didn't die, that is. He tried casting a memory charm on my best friend Ron and I, but used a broken wand to do it. It backfired on him, and now he is in St. Mungos, with no memory whatsoever."
"Fitting, considering what he did in the past."
I kept quiet, wondering if he was answer my question if I left it unspoken.
Zab winked at me. "You are learning. Good. Gilderoy used to be an obliviator, and a damn good one. At least, that's what Alastor told me. He was an arrogant little pest as a child though."
This revelation didn't surprise me.
"Apparently, some Death Eaters caught up with a pair of aurors, and tortured them to insanity in front of their young son. Gilderoy was the first on the scene, and he obliviated the boy without thinking." Zab shook his head in disgust.
"He was thrown out of the corps that day. Using memory charms on toddlers can cause serious side effects on their magical growth."
I swallowed nervously. "Neville." I said softly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Neville Longbottom. One of my friends. One I'd trust with my life. If what you said was true, then it was Lockhart that almost destroyed his magical ability. For a long time, his family thought he was a squib."
Zab snorted. "A Longbottom? They thought a Longbottom was a squib? Bah, idiots." he spat. "I'll tell you this now, and I'm as sure of this as I am of the sun rising tomorrow. That boy will be a great wizard one day, just like the rest of his family."
I nodded, thinking back to that night. "The Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor, and for a long time, people wondered why. But after our exams, I was tricked into going to the Department of Mysteries. He came with me, he wouldn't even think of letting me go off without him."
Zab looked interested. "Why did you go there? What on earth gave you the justification?"
I looked down at my hands. "I thought my godfather was being kept there."
"You didn't answer my question."
"You never answer mine." I snapped back, trying to push the flood of guilt back.
Zab didn't look like he would respond; he just stared straight at me. Finally he spoke. "I'm not the apprentice."
I coughed to clear my throat. "There was something at the Department that only myself or Voldemort could get. If he went himself, the Ministry would have had to admit he was back. So he tricked me into going there."
"There is a prophecy about the two of you?" Zab blurted, clearly astonished.
I bit the inside of my cheek and let my mind roll over this new information. "You were an Unspeakable." I said finally. "Or at least a high-level auror who knew about what went on at the Department."
Zab nodded, looking sheepish. "I'm impressed. A lot of people would have accused me of being in league with Voldemort after that outburst. I must admit that you surprised me, young man. That does not happen often.
I felt my face heat up. "The record of the prophecy was smashed in the fight we had. Twelve of Voldemort's Death Eaters came after six of us. We did our best to escape, but we got beaten up pretty bad. It was a miracle that we all survived until the cavalry arrived."
Zab stood and walked over to the locked cabinet. With a quick flick of his wand, the doors sprung open to reveal several dozen bottles of alcohol. He selected a bottle with a muddy coloured liquid and poured a couple of small glasses.
"Here." he said, passing one to me. "A liqueur a muggle friend of mine makes." He took in my obviously reluctant expression. "From chocolate." he finished.
I took a sip. The sweet, syrupy liquid sat easily on my tongue and slid down my throat without leaving a bitter aftertaste. Once it hit my stomach, a wonderfully warm sensation seeped through my body.
"That's nice." I said appreciatively. I took another sip.
"Do you want to talk about this 'cavalry'?"
I sighed deeply and shook my head. "I still feel guilty about it."
"Would you prefer to talk about your godfather? I assume he was in trouble if you felt the need to rescue him."
An almost familiar flash of anger tinged my words. "He was always in trouble, and it wasn't his fault!" I snapped hotly.
"Ah. Alastor mentioned that you were dealing with a great deal of anger. Shall we duel?" he asked, almost eagerly.
That brought me up cold. "What?"
"I do believe I was quite clear."
I shook my head to clear it. "What does duelling have to do with this?" I asked, not a little nervous at the prospect. From what I'd observed, guessed and confirmed, I would be no match for this guy.
Typically, he didn't answer directly. "A wonderfully invigorating way to pass the time, duelling." Zab said casually. "All sorts of emotions can spill forth, leaving one feeling drained afterwards. Being completely emotionless after a period of having emotions rule you is the best therapy there is."
I swallowed my retort and the rest of my drink. "There remains the problem of staying alive long enough to enjoy that feeling." I said, hoping the nervousness I felt would be covered by the alcohol.
"Duelling, my boy, not fighting. Duelling implies acting within rules of engagement, following traditions and form. Tossing spells against another human with the intent to kill or injure is not duelling."
"I can't agree." I said. "The few times I've done what you call duelling, I've had to defend myself from real harm. The rather more numerous times I've done what you call fighting, I've had to defend myself from real harm."
Zab smiled. "Didn't Gilderoy start up a duelling club?"
I groaned at the memory. "Yes. Well, that was what it was called." I said sourly.
Zab actually chuckled. "That wizard couldn't throw a curse or a jinx to save himself."
I smiled. "He didn't. The one and only time he took the floor he was handed his butt by Snape."
Zab nodded, his smile still in place. "Severus doesn't suffer fools gladly."
"He doesn't suffer anyone not from Slytherin gladly, fool or not." I clarified.
Zab nodded, almost sadly. "A real pity that what was the greatest college of magical learning in the world has been in decline since Dumbledore took over."
For some reason, something stirred within me, demanding that I defend Dumbledore. I squashed it, putting it down to the memory of my trusting him enough to call Fawkes to me. "I couldn't say. I don't have any experience of other schools to compare it to."
Zab's eyes flickered with surprise. I guess he had been expecting me to defend the school.
"Don't be so shocked." I said sardonically. "So far, I've been taught by two Death eaters, a werewolf, an incompetent idiot, and a sadistic, even-more-incompetent, Ministry lackey. And that's just in one subject. I shudder to think of how many scratches Dumbledore is going to have to make in the bottom of the proverbial barrel to get this year's Defense Professor."
Zab raised his eyebrows. "And yet you achieved an Outstanding on your Defense OWL. They can't have been that bad."
I shook my head. "Two were exceptional professors, the werewolf and one of the Death Eaters. That was Barty Crouch Jnr. One was satisfactory, that was the other Death Eater. The other two were so bad that it was a miracle that anyone passed their exams at all."
Zab leaned back in his chair. "Are you aware that in Defense this year, the largest number of Outstanding OWLs were awarded in a that subject in a century? That would indicate woman who taught you this past year was apparently competent enough."
I sneered at him. "It also had the largest number of failures in any subject, ever. Not so competent." I snapped, not sure if that was true or not. I wouldn't bet against it though.
Zab smiled widely and nodded. "True, though if you know that as a fact and not just guessing, you are significantly more informed than the majority of the people out there. The Ministry is going to extraordinary lengths to cover up that fact." Zab chuckled to himself. "They beside themselves trying to work out a way to reconcile those two facts."
I took a deep breath to calm down. "I did guess."
Zab smiled faintly. "I know. There was no way you could have known."
I frowned and squinted at him. "How did you know?"
Zab just smiled broadly at me.
I sighed and thought deeply. "You were talking to Professor Moody in code, so if he knew, he may have told you. He claimed that you had been out of the wizarding world for a long time, yet you knew about Neville's parents, Lockhart's duelling club and that people still shiver when they hear the name Voldemort." I shifted in my seat, still thinking hard. "You see your great-granddaughter on a regular, if infrequent, basis, so she could tell you about things that happen at Hogwarts. You spoke to Mad-Eye eight years ago, so he could have told you about Neville."
I looked away, trying to remember what I could about our discussion. "Moody doesn't shiver when he says 'Voldemort', and I can't imagine that your great-granddaughter mentions the name on any regular basis, so you must have another method of finding out things that are happening in the world."
"Very good, Harry."
I started. "You do know my name!" I stammered.
Zab just nodded.
I frowned deeply again. "You know, the more I think about this, the more things don't make sense. Moody said that you didn't know who I was, but you do know my name, even though you insisted on not formally introducing ourselves until we were here.
"Judging from how you greeted him, and the lengths to which we went to disguise our destination, you are just as security conscious as he is, if not more so. He trusts you, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you trust him. Especially if you figure he doesn't need to know about you." I paused to collect my thoughts.
"You know what I think?" I finally asked.
Zab tilted his head to one side. "I am quite sure you are about to enlighten me."
"You haven't severed your ties with the wizarding world at all. That is a fiction that you encourage, even perpetuate. You have an ear or two at the Ministry, and ear at Hogwarts."
Zab's eyes lit up with delight. "My goodness, exactly how many ears was I born with, I wonder."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "That wasn't a question, so you can't dodge it." I said with amusement.
Zab chuckled softly. "You are not correct, young Potter." My face fell. "But you are not entirely wrong either. You are closer than I expected you to be, and far closer than I'm entirely comfortable in you being."
I swallowed to shift a sudden lump in my throat. "Are you going to obliviate me like you did to Moody?"
Zab shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. I'd no sooner start messing with your mind than I'd set fire to my library. Alastor requested to be obliviated, in order to protect the secret of your location."
I smiled. "Then exactly why am I going to be meeting your great-granddaughter?"
Zab stood and refilled our glasses with the sweet liqueur. "Well, you managed to direct the conversation back around to your original question. Quite well in fact."
I waited.
Zab hummed with amusement. "Over the years, I have taken on seven apprentices. Since Hogwarts takes all the magical students in the country, there leaves very few options for companionship, at least that of a similar age to yourself."
I framed the thought in my mind so as to not present it as a question. "I hadn't expected companionship to be relevant to an apprenticeship."
I received a nod of approval. "Given your rather unique circumstances, I would have thought that having some people your own age around would be high on your list of priorities."
"Since when does-, er, I mean, I hadn't expected an apprentice to have any say in the priorities of his education."
Zab tilted his head back and laughed. "Well done." he said with a smile. "I suppose we should discuss your priorities, obligations and responsibilities."
I nodded, pleased that I'd finally find out what I had let myself in for.
Zab started. "Right, Alastor asked me to focus on the subjects required for entrance into the auror academy. Is that a desire of yours? You wish to be an auror?
I frowned for a second. I'm not sure what prompted me to tell McGonagall that I wanted to be an auror. I guess I just felt I had to say something at the time.
No, that's not exactly the truth. After meeting Tonks and Kingsley, I had actually thought that being an auror would be cool. With my good grades in Defense, I just supposed that doing something I was good at would have been the best thing. Now, I'm absolutely sure I don't want to be an auror. At least, I sure as hell don't want to work for the Ministry.
I shook my head. "I thought I did, but recent events have, shall we say, soured me on working for the Ministry." I said, my voice expressing just how sour I found the idea. "No offence." I added, not quite sincerely.
"None taken." Zab replied. "The Ministry you are familiar with has grown introverted, and very conservative."
"Not to mention dictatorial and tyrannical." I said with a grimace.
Zab sighed. "Yes, the signs are there that the current group of leaders are taking the wizarding world in that direction. I could not begin to defend them on some of the decisions they made this past year, with regards to all the education decrees."
"Yeah. The one where they appointed Umbridge Headmistress was a cracker. How did they get that one past the governors?"
Zab's eyes twinkled. "Ah, you spotted that too. Well, between you and me, I'd say the governors are going to have a great deal less influence over the affairs of Hogwarts for the foreseeable future."
I grinned. "Why on earth would that be? Because a convicted Death Eater sat on the board? Or could it be because they delegated their responsibility to appoint a Headmaster to the Ministry, who promptly appointed a sadistic, tyrannical idiot?"
Zab mirrored my grin, and I felt a flash of kinship with him. "Indeed. As satisfying as it is to see their pompous egos pricked, it does leave Hogwarts in the less than capable hands of Albus Dumbledore."
"Perhaps." I said. "I trust Dumbledore will learn his lesson and vet the new Defense professor a little better."
Zab nodded absently. "Yes, for the sake of my great-granddaughter, I hope so too. However, I do need to know why Alastor asked that I focus on auror subjects."
"Probably because Voldemort is coming after me with a vengeance."
"Ah, yes. A rather abrupt summation, but I do believe you are correct. It is good to know what you face, it tends to give one a rather more powerful drive to succeed."
"So, what subjects will I be-, I mean, I believe we should discuss what subjects I will be covering."
Zab nodded and stood, moving over to a locked sideboard. With a wave of his wand, the lock clicked, and the wooden covering rolled itself up. Zab extracted a sheaf of parchment and brought it over to the table.
"These are the syllabus I taught by at the auror academy. I want you to read through them tonight, so that in the morning you can explain to me the levels of your ignorance."
I chuckled at his chosen words. "That's a bit harsh."
"Yes, but true. I shall retire now. You have full use of this room, and your own, which is down that corridor, the third door on the right. The house elves will see to any of your needs." He placed a tiny bell down on the table. "Simply ring that to summon them. Since you have some reading to do tonight, there is no need to rise early. I shall leave you to your own devices until midday. We shall continue our discussion on your education then."
I nodded and stood. "Um, just one thing. I know this is a question, but I would appreciate a straight answer. What do you want me to call you?"
Zab looked me up and down expressionlessly. "Answer a straight question? Me? Goodness gracious me, Alastor would be beside himself with jealousy."
I swallowed. "Well, you haven't formally introduced yourself."
"Names are overrated."
I blinked. "Well, may I-, um, Can-, damn, um-" I shut my mouth until my brain had caught up. "I shall call you Master." I said with far more certainty than I felt.
Zab nodded. "Good choice." He turned and left the room, but I distinctly heard a snicker as he left.
~~~
Only Hermione would love the parchments Zab left me. While many of the items on the list I understood on a broad level, the specifics eluded me. Many of the charms listed I had never come across. Most of the wizarding law details just flew over my head.
I did feel some vague sense of satisfaction in that I could name all but a handful of counter curses and jinxes, even to the point where in one specific example, I jotted down an error in the pronunciation of the spell listed.
As deep as I was into my task, my heart nearly leapt into my mouth when the fireplace flashed green.
I shot to my feet so fast my chair fell over backwards. I whipped around just as a figure emerged from the flames.
Short, petite and covered in a large, soot-covered cloak. With a wand in hand!
With a mental curse, I snatched my wand out. "Stupify!" I shouted.
The newcomer had obviously come ready for battle, since he leapt to one side with the reactions of someone expecting resistance. The figure waved its wand in a quick series of movements which were completely unfamiliar to me and said in a feminine voice, "Imago!"
Instantly, there were three figures, all mimicking the movements of each other. Cursing to myself, I quickly decided to use the opposite strategy, and promptly cast a dissolusionment charm on myself.
As the vaguely unsettling sensation of cracked egg tracked down my hair and face, the three images of the intruder all cast the same curse at me.
Instinct kicked in, and I allowed myself to fall over backwards, hissing the counter-curse in a successful effort to send all three curses to the ceiling. Three beams of light hit the ceiling, though only one left a mark. I banished my overturned chair, sending it straight at one of the images.
The chair passed through it as though it was smoke, though I'd guess that smoke would be more substantial than the illusion.
The trio of female images cast "Finite Incantetum!" at me, in an effort to dispel my concealment spell, but I rolled into the path of the spell cast by the known illusion. I traced my eyes over the other two, trying to get a clue as to which one was real.
Only one had soot on the cloak.
Our curses were both cast at the same time, and intersected with a flash of light and sparks. I grunted as the flash temporarily blinded me, and it was only my opponent's girlish yelp that alerted me to the fact that she was blind too.
And had given me her position with that shout. As had I.
She cast another Finite Incantetum at me as I leapt at her, my eyes closed and watering. I felt her spell hit my shoulder, dispelling my camouflage, and I barked my shin on the leg of the table, but in my adrenaline infused haze, I felt no pain. My forearms stretched in front of me collided with something soft and warm, and I managed to wrap my left arm around my opponent's waist. Even though I hadn't gone through any sort of growth spurt, I still managed to pull her to the floor.
Air was forced from my lungs with a grunt as an elbow struck me sharply in the stomach.
Somehow, she managed to fire off a jinx, and my legs locked together. With a growl, I snapped a silencing charm, but quite obviously missed. In desperation, I let go with my left hand and groped for her wand.
That was how Zab found us a few seconds later, wrestling on the floor. I had the wrist of her wand hand gripped in my left, and she had mine likewise. The only thing going for me was that I was on top, sitting across her waist, with my legs locked together.
"What is the meaning of this?" shouted Zab from the door.
My relief seemed to be contagious, because for some reason, my captive relaxed too.
I blinked rapidly to clear my vision, only to start in shock as I recognised just who it was I had grabbed.
She blurted a question I really had no easy answer for.
"Potter? What in Salazar Slytherin's name are you doing here?"
--