Duel

Arthur had seen him before. He just never mentioned it.

It was in the dueling ring in the Great Hall. His professor motioned him forward to the platform and from the crowd, pointed out another to do the same. The moment Arthur stepped into the ring, the booming cry of "EXPELLIARMUS" immediately sent him flying off the platform.

Other students rushed over to where he lay in a heap meters away from the ring and helped him to his feet. Though familiar faces of his concerned comrades swarmed about him, the mass of blonde hair descending the platform stairs was all he could see. And the smirk from that boy's face made his stomach lurch.

Arthur saw him again a year later. The other just didn't recognize him.

It was late at night. Moonlight poured into the vacant corridors from the windows on the fourth floor. It was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Arthur tiptoed his way down the passageway, sliding past the sleeping forms of aristocratic portraits high up in their embellished frames. A marble statue of a giant knight came into his view. There was a loose brick in the wall directly behind it that allowed Arthur enough footing to climb up to the window perch. This was where he went every night to read by the moonlight. When Argus Filch should make his rounds, Arthur would scamper down from his perch, hide behind the statue, and hold his breath.

He strode carefully toward the statue when the sound of footsteps from behind caused him to throw himself against the wall. The shadow concealed him but he was already seen.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing here?"

Arthur slowly turned his head to the voice. The stranger was just a few feet away when he stepped into the moonlight. The stranger's face was cast in shadow but the moon illuminated wild golden locks of hair. The sight of it made Arthur's stomach lurch.

"Y-you," he managed to say, recoiling slightly.

"What?"

"Nothing," Arthur quickly muttered, recovering from his initial shock. In the shadows out of the blonde's discretion, Arthur made sure his wand was still tucked away in his sleeve.

He stepped forward, "I should ask you the same thing, Slytherin."

"I'll have you know, this corridor belongs to me. And trespassers," the blonde stepped forward until the brunette felt his warm breath against his cheek, "should be punished."

"You're delusional," Arthur drew back, willfully meeting the blonde's gaze with a glare. His voice wavered and he knew the blonde heard it. The heart pounded against his eardrums and shook his entire body.

"Learn your place, Gryffindor," the blonde snarled.

"Bite me."

The moment the words left his mouth, Arthur's heart dropped. He was shaking terribly, he knew it. Never before had he felt so scared. After all this time, he had to be alone in an empty corridor in the dead of night with the last person he wanted to be with. The blonde remained motionless. Arthur wavered a bit on the spot and it took all the willpower to tear his eyes away from the blonde's shoulder and meet him dead on in the eyes.

When he did, he was surprised.

The Slytherin's eyes were wide with confusion, no, shock, even. The blonde's mouth was agape. He pursed his lips and opened them again as though about to speak. But there were no words. Any trace of hostility Arthur had seen from those green eyes had disappeared. And that moment, the Slytherin was just another boy just like him.

With that, Arthur turned his heel and walked past the statue down the corridor. He didn't know if the boy was following him and he didn't care. He kept on walking until he was in the stairwell, until he was ascending the stairs, until he was safely on the seventh floor in front of the entrance to the Fat Lady's corridor. He stood there panting then started laughing. He laughed so hard, he couldn't breathe and the Fat Lady in her portrait rose from her slumber in dead fright, squealing. She scolded him profusely but that didn't cease his cackling.