Harry Potter's revenge

And what are you fighting towards?"

"I'm sorry, isn't that what I said?"

"Not really, you said you are fighting to maintain the status quo. That doesn't move towards anything. It is keeping things as they are."

"But keeping things as they are is the point, for the most part anyway."

"Yes, but that which doesn't change the status quo is neither sexy, nor appealing to the young and impressionable. Think about how Voldemort was able to forge the Dark out of the children of the pureblood lines. And how Dumbledore rallied the children of both half-blood and non pureblood noble houses into the Light."

He turned over the implications of what the young lord was saying in his head. "So, you're suggesting we need a mission? Something to rally a new generation around?"

"Yes."

"And no doubt you already have such a mission in mind."

Lord Slytherin swirled the brandy he'd given the man earlier and looked far away before returning to the here and now. "I am sick and tired Lord Greengrass — sick and tired of the aspersions made against my house, sick and tired of those who believe that Slytherin stands for hate and bigotry. Sick of those who believe that to be cunning and ambitious is to be evil — that to use old magic is to be evil. And sick of those who use my house's name as justification for their horrific actions."

Jacob was surprised. Sure, he'd heard the same points made many times before, usually whispered from one neutral to another at parties, afraid they'd be overheard by a Dark sided wizard and denounced for heresy, but to hear Lord Slytherin himself speak them so brazenly had a galvanising effect.

"You are proposing the resurrection of Slytherin house with neutral ideals as a rallying point for the neutral faction."

"Yes."

He sat back and thought. It was an ambitious plan. It involved shifting the entire philosophical stance of a good chunk of the wizarding world. But with Lord Slytherin as a legitimising force, it might be possible to win back a good number of more liberal Dark siders and more conservative Light siders.

"Such a plan depends heavily on your abilities and power as Lord Slytherin."

"Well, money is no issue, with the ascendancy to the Slytherin Lordship I was made privy to a number of family secrets that secure more than enough wealth. As for magical power… well… Do you have a duelling room?"

Harry stood, tall, powerful, robes whipping around his feet in a swirl of barely contained magic. Time to see how much all that battle time camped in Voldy's head translated to actual duelling instincts.

"Standard European Duelling Rules," called Lord Greengrass from the far side of the huge, warded duelling room.

"Standard? How about Extended Class B?" he countered. "We are the Gray faction after all."

Greengrass looked at him for a long moment before offering a small smile. "Very well, Extended Class B Rules. Joint countdown from three — starting on one."

Lady Sunny stood to the side, fidgeting incessantly with the cuff of her robes.

They both raised their wands.

"Three, Two, One!"

"Three, Two, One!"

A flurry of spells shot towards Harry, all intending to take him out, but he swatted them out of the air before they reached him. One particularly nasty looking purple spell felt unswattable, and he dodged it, bringing up a shield to absorb the stunner his opponent had hidden in it's shadow.

Nice and steady.

A stun, shield-breaker, stun combo failed as Harry conjured a rock to block the shield-breaker, and let the stunners splash, uselessly, on his wordlessly cast protego.

Lord Greengrass, seeing that Harry wasn't attacking him, started casting more complex spells. Transfigured animals fell to his mid-range flame whip, magical fog was blown away with a miniature hurricane, and illusions totally failed to fool his magical sensing ability.

Going well.

Then, Jacob Greengrass struck.

All at once, Harry found himself boxed in by a banish, shield breaker, stun combo on one side, a transfigured animal attack on another, and a delayed firewall activation on the third. It was a masterfully executed pincer movement, and left no normal escape route.

The brief look of victory on his opponent's face died when Harry shot upwards and floated some ten feet above the ground.

He grinned. His turn.

Jacob realised he was being humoured less then thirty seconds into the duel. He'd been a high ranked duellist on the international circuit earlier in life and was used to the back and forth rhythm of a good solid duel. This guy though… this guy was simply more powerful than him. Slytherin wasn't even trying to conserve energy. He shielded against spells instead of dodging them, made no effort to move around the duelling arena, choosing instead to just stand in one spot, and he left huge holes in his casting lineup, in which he should have been attacking.

Okay, so that's how Slytherin wanted to play it, was it?

Conjured rocks became a pack of attack dogs charmed with a confundo.

Magical Merlin, had Slytherin just used a flame whip?

Conjured fog surrounded Lord Slytherin and was moments away from freezing solid.

Damn! Jacob struggled to maintain his footing as a blow-him-away wind shredded his fog.

Two copies of himself sprang from his body and started casting, rapid fire, which Slytherin just ignored and allowed to pass through him.

How. The. Hell? Right, enough pissing around.

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