Harry Potter: The Duelist of Hogwarts

"Andy, my Potions level isn't as high as you think."

Andy Pucey stared at him, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "Someone whose paper was just published in The Golden Cauldron says this, and you expect me to believe it?"

"Wait a little longer, Andy. Just a little longer," Sean said, his tone placating but firm. "I have a lot going on this semester. Once things settle down, I promise, I will help you."

Seeing Sean's resolute attitude, Andy had no choice but to back down. The amount of potions Sean was already providing him was substantial, mostly revitalization draughts and other simple concoctions. They sold well enough, but they were low-end products. Andy was aiming higher; he knew the children of the wealthy elite had problems that couldn't be solved by a simple pick-me-up.

With business off the table, Andy settled in to chat, and the conversation flowed easily between the four Slytherins. They weren't talking for long before the compartment door slid open again. Samuel Capper stood there. He gave a brief nod to the others, then fixed his gaze on Sean. "Sean, come with me. Everyone is waiting for you."

Sean knew at once who "everyone" was: the Slytherin Brotherhood's reserve organization. It seemed they were holding their first meeting of the year on the train.

"Blaise, Jensen, Andy, wait here for a moment. I'll be right back."

"Young... Sean," Jensen began, catching himself. "Do you need me to go with you?"

Sean shook his head. "No need. This is the Hogwarts Express. Nothing will happen here."

Jensen nodded and sat back down. Sean followed Samuel out of the compartment, heading toward the front of the train.

The carriages here were different. Reserved for the Head Boy and Girl, and the prefects of each house, they were more spacious and more luxurious. It was in one of these compartments, set aside for the Slytherin prefects, that the meeting was being held. As Samuel led him through the train, Sean noticed the curious looks they received. The other prefects knew of the Brotherhood's unofficial feeder organization. Seeing Sean, a mere second-year, being led into their private sanctum, the more astute among them were already drawing conclusions.

Inside, the compartment was filled with the quiet, confident hum of Slytherin's elite. Many of last year's seventh-years were gone, but new faces had taken their place. Sean noted the presence of Oliver Fawley, an older student with an expressionless face who barely registered his arrival.

"Sean. Welcome. Please, take a seat."

The greeting came from Irina Rowland. With her and Samuel's ascension to sixth year and the graduation of the previous leadership, their status within the organization had clearly risen. The new de facto leaders, however, were this year's seventh-year prefects: the aforementioned Oliver Fawley and a girl named Dolphinia Shafiq. The Shafiq name was enough to command respect; they were one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Sean already knew that Oliver and Dolphinia's relationship was far from harmonious. Rumor had it they'd even dueled in private over some internal matter. The outcome was officially unknown, but the prevailing theory was that Dolphinia had won. Since then, while Oliver maintained a veneer of normalcy, he had become noticeably more low-key.

Once Sean was seated, Irina cleared her throat. "Everyone is here, so I will be brief. The three seniors who graduated last year have all been promoted and have officially joined the Brotherhood. This is thanks, in no small part, to Sean's paper, which helped Slytherin secure our seventh consecutive House Cup."

"We're all aware of that," Oliver Fawley interjected, his voice flat. "I don't think it needs to be emphasized again. And while his paper was important, let's not forget that the championship was won through the efforts of all of Slytherin's students."

A cool smile touched Irina's lips. "You are right, Oliver. The House Cup was a collective effort, of course. But as you also know, without Sean's contribution, that victory would have been stolen from us under unfair circumstances. I think his singular contribution should not be dismissed, should it?"

Oliver shot a glare at Irina, then his gaze flickered to Sean, who was studiously examining his own shoes, the picture of detached innocence. With a forced smile, Oliver gave a curt nod and said nothing more.

Irina moved on. "This year's two new fifth-year prefects have also been selected. You all know them, their performance, and their family connections. I now put it to a vote: do you agree to them joining us?"

Irina raised her hand first, followed immediately by Samuel. Dolphinia, Oliver, and most of the others followed suit. Two students abstained, but it didn't matter. The motion passed.

Sean had raised his hand along with Irina. Theirs was a simple, mutually beneficial transaction: he would lend his support to bolster Irina and Samuel's standing, and they, in turn, would help him quickly ascend within the organization's hierarchy.

The two new fifth-year prefects were brought in and introduced themselves. Both were deferential to Sean, showing no condescension despite his age. With the new members inducted, Irina began to lay out the agenda for the year.

For Sean, the rest of the meeting was tedious. He voted when Irina and Samuel voted, and when he wasn't needed, he retreated into his own mind, pondering problems in Potions and alchemy, letting the political machinations of the older students wash over him.

When the meeting finally ended, he got up and left. As he was walking back to his own compartment, he nearly collided with Hermione and Neville, who were hurrying down the corridor, their faces etched with panic.

"Sean! I finally found you," Hermione said, her voice strained. "Harry and Ron are missing! They're not on the train. Have you seen them?"

(End of Chapter)

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