Hunted

Chapter 2: Combat

Ravena Hawkins stood on the lawns of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, surveying the students in her seventh year class. This day marked the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the new term and Ravena had abandoned her traditional academic robes for the occasion. Instead she wore leather riding boots, black spandex trousers that clung to her every curve, and a silk button-down blouse. A large leather valise lay open on the grass in front of her. An effigy in chain mail and helmet stood poised at her side, a lethal-looking broadsword in its gloved grasp. She gazed at the astonished expressions and quizzical stares of her students with more than a little amusement.

The summer had wrought wondrous changes in the students' appearance, especially on the males. Ravena noted that they all seemed to have grown half a foot and their voices had dropped a good octave. Ron Weasley had grown even taller and lankier, if that were possible. Harry Potter, her best student from last year, had filled out some, but was still thin and not nearly as tall as his constant companion. Even Neville Longbottom, her most timid student, had developed a bass voice and with it a swagger of confidence.

The other most striking change was the sudden appearance of something resembling facial hair on nearly every young man. Mustaches and goatees were de rigueur. Draco Malfoy sported the barely visible traces of a blond goatee on his chin. His hair was so fine and light in color that it would have completely escaped Ravena's notice had Draco not been stroking it continuously.

"Good morning, class," Ravena said, with a warm smile. Then she turned to Neville and handed him a stack of parchments. "Mr. Longbottom, will you please distribute the syllabus to your classmates."

She waited for a few moments while the papers circulated among the students. Her eyes studied their surprised looks, as they skimmed the syllabus. Draco's mouth curled into a grin of delight.

"As you can see, I've introduced a whole new curriculum for your seventh year studies," Ravena instructed. "Combat will be our focus this year. Headmaster Dumbledore and I have decided that you would benefit from more practical experience."

"We will begin our studies with a survey of traditional Muggle combat techniques and weaponry," she instructed. "We will be studying their history and you will observe demonstrations of their use." Her hand motioned to her armored companion.

"Following this historical survey," Ravena continued, "we will begin practical exercises. You will learn archery to hone your accuracy, fencing to develop rhythm and footwork, and finally dueling with the wizard's weapon of choice, a wand." She brandished her wand with a flourish. "It is my intention to hold a dueling tournament at year's end in which you will all have the opportunity to demonstrate your skill in front of the entire student body."

"Wicked!" Ron whispered, nudging Harry in the ribs with his elbow.

Harry grinned back at him, those brilliant green eyes flashing behind the round spectacles.

Draco shot a malicious stare at Harry. "I'll be ready for you, Potter," he challenged with a sneer.

"Order!" Ravena shouted. She clapped her hands together sharply twice. "Save your combat for the practice fields please." Her blue eyes met Draco's with a stern glare. But he merely ogled her, an insolent smirk on his lips.

"Like father, like son," Ravena hissed under her breath. Her thoughts strayed to Lucius Malfoy, her mother's beloved cousin and her least favorite relative. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the rest of the students.

"Today's lesson is the broadsword," she instructed. She bent down, reached into the valise, and extracted an embossed leather scabbard from the depths of the suitcase. Her right hand grasped the jewel-encrusted hilt and pulled the sword from its sheath with a ringing sound. She held the sword out for the students to inspect and then passed it among them. "Be mindful of the blade," she warned. "It is very sharp."

No sooner had she issued the warning then she heard a cry from one of the students. Her eyes glanced up to see Neville wincing in pain and holding a bloodied finger. She strode to his side and took his hand in hers. "Sanguis finite!" With this simple incantation and a wave of her wand, the bleeding stopped.

"It looks minor, Neville," she soothed, inspecting the wound.

Neville's face had turned crimson. Ravena wasn't certain whether the source of his embarrassment was his carelessness or the fact that the shy young man's hand was still resting in her own. She flashed him a reassuring smile and released his hand.

Meanwhile, Draco held the sword, an over-eager glint in his eye. He thrust the blade in front of him, skewering an imaginary opponent. A cruel laugh escaped his lips. "Are we going to get to practice with this?" he inquired, now fingering the weapon with a lustful stare.

"Heavens, no!" Ravena retorted, gingerly removing the sword from his grasp. "This is far too dangerous. We would fill the infirmary with students on the very first week of the term. Madam Pomfrey would have my head and I would be inundated with nasty letters of protest from your parents." She flashed Draco a look of reproach. "I will be handling this demonstration myself. And to ensure that nothing goes amiss, Professor Snape will be joining the class as a referee and observer."

"Snape? She must be mental!" Ron whispered to Harry, while his professor's back was turned.

Ravena had bent over the valise once more and extracted a padded tunic made of coarse linen. She was fastening it around her torso, when she heard the comment. Her eyes glanced up at Ron.

"I am not deaf, Mr. Weasley," she chided.

"Nor am I," snapped an icy voice from behind Ron and Harry. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

A look of surprise and dismay washed over Ron and Harry. They spun around to stare into the angry face of the Potions Master. Severus Snape stood just behind them with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes glittered with malice.

"Ah, Severus, you've arrived," Ravena greeted, flashing him an inviting smile. "We were about to begin the demonstration."

Snape returned her greeting with a cold, empty stare. The smile faded from Ravena's lips. She shrugged it off and turned her attention back to the satchel. Her hands pulled a tunic of chain mail from the valise this time. She held it out for the student's inspection.

"Please come closer and have a look," she said, beckoning the students to her with a nod of her head. "This is chain mail. It is constructed of millions of tiny rings of metal, painstakingly linked to form a garment. Flexible and strong. Feel it."

The students surged forward to touch the garment.

"Now this particular tunic has been enchanted to make it lighter for my use," she continued. "The original would have been far too heavy for me. For you see, in ancient combat, size mattered. A full suit of armor could weigh over a hundred pounds. Masters Crabbe and Goyle, for instance, could have easily carried the weight."

The two hulking young men grinned back at her, their slow-witted faces alight at the complement. They sniggered. Their Slytherin companion, Draco, merely rolled his eyes.

"Severus, would you be kind enough to assist me?" Ravena asked, with a hopeful gaze in Snape's direction. Her arms held out the garment to him.

Snape sniffed and came forward with reluctant steps. He helped her into the chain mail tunic. Then she tucked her wavy masses of ebony hair into a linen skullcap and donned a metal helmet. Snape spun around and rejoined the line of students.

Ravena's fingers grabbed hold of the sword hilt with a two-handed grip. She gave the sword a practice swing, the sun glistening off the cold steel of the blade. She swept the sword in front of her in the graceful arcs of one intimately familiar with the weapon. The silver blade sung as it sliced the air. Then she turned to face her opponent, the armored effigy. Her head nodded.

The students gasped and recoiled en masse, as the armor-clad mannequin jumped to life and confronted Ravena in battle. Several students, including Harry, reached for their wands. Snape watched the proceedings with his arms crossed and an impassive expression etched on his face.

For the first few minutes, Ravena and her opponent circled each other with wary steps, each looking for opportunity. Then the mannequin charged, swinging its lethal blade. Ravena met his sword with a clang of metal on metal that rang over the lawns of Hogwarts. The two swords clashed repeatedly, as Ravena blocked her opponent's blow and countered with her own.

Ravena was talented with the sword, but her conjured opponent was more skilled than she cared to admit. After many minutes of sustained heavy combat, her weakness began to show. But the aggressive attacks of her tireless challenger continued to rain down upon her.

She retreated, hoping for a reprieve from her relentless foe. But fatigue had made her careless and the sun hit her eyes, momentarily obscuring her vision. She blinked and refocused. With horror, her gaze locked on the incoming thrust of deadly steel aimed at her torso. Her feet dodged to the left, but not quickly enough. The blade caught her shoulder, knocking her off balance with a glancing blow. She toppled backward onto the grass.

Her opponent stood over her, poised to strike. He raised the broadsword high over his head and plunged it down, aiming for her chest with deadly intent. She gasped and rolled to her side. Her ears heard the whish of the sword as its razor-sharp tip narrowly missed her back and jabbed into the dirt.

Her head twisted. Her eyes opened wide with terror to see the mannequin pull his weapon from the ground and raise it again to administer the fatal blow. Ravena's hands gripped the bejeweled hilt of her sword. Gathering all her strength, she lifted its point to her attacker's face. She thrust the sword upward, just as her opponent leaned in to plunge his weapon into her body. The point of her blade slipped between the eye-slits of his helmet with a grating slide.

Her ears filled with the horrified gasps and screams of the students watching the spectacle. Her eyes were blinded by flashes of red light, concentrated on the body of the mannequin. Her armored attacker staggered backward a step or two, as a volley of spells hit. The broadsword fell from the gloved hand. Then he shuddered and exploded with an ear-splitting BANG!

Ravena's eyes widened at the sight, as a hailstorm of tiny metal rings and feathers now filled the air. They were all that remained of her opponent. She rolled to her stomach and shielded her face with her arms, expecting to be pelted at any moment with falling objects. But the anticipated downpour never came. Her head snapped up, as she heard the booming voice of Severus Snape.

"Stand back!" he commanded, striding to Ravena's side. He waved his wand and uttered an incantation. "Turbo!" At his command, the flurry of metal and feathers assembled into a swirling vortex. The funnel cloud raced across the lawns of Hogwarts and vanished into the valise with a rush of wind.

Ravena's gaze strayed to the shocked faces of her students. She noticed that nearly a dozen, mostly the Gryffindors, were standing with their wands drawn. She surmised that they had come to her rescue in her time of need. A proud smile spread across her face under the cover of the helmet. She rose to her feet.

Snape was far from pleased by their actions. He paced in front of the line of students, his face white with fury. "You blundering dunderheads," he snarled. "Do you realize that you have just completely destroyed an eleventh century suit of chain mail? It is a priceless antique from the castle armory." He stopped directly in front of Neville Longbottom and practically spat in his face. "Furthermore, your consummate act of stupidity could have caused injury to every member of this class, not to mention your professor. Did you ever consider what would have happened if I had not intervened to divert those metal shards?"

"No, sir," Neville replied, his voice cracking to a high-pitched squeak. He cowered before Snape's withering glare.

"But Professor Hawkins could have been killed," Harry retorted. His balled up fist gripped his wand and his green eyes flashed with indignation.

Snape spun on his heels, his dark eyes boring into Harry's with a look of purest loathing. "You should have left that to me, Potter," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Professor Hawkins' safety was my responsibility. You seem to have the misguided notion that you need to save everyone."

Harry didn't respond, but his eyes stared daggers back at Snape.

"If it were up to me, I would expel all of you," Snape spat, his glare traveling down the line of students.

"Thankfully, it is not," Ravena interrupted, striding to his side. "Otherwise, my class would be depleted." Her hands removed the helmet and skullcap. She tossed her head, shaking her ebony tresses loose. She cast him a defiant look.

Snape now trained an angry glare on Ravena, a scowl on his thin lips.

"However, Professor Snape has made several good points," Ravena conceded, still staring into Snape's eyes. Then she turned back to the students. "It was his job to safeguard me. And although well-intentioned, your actions put us all in danger. I must take five points from each student who fired a hex."

"Twenty," hissed Snape.

"Ten," Ravena countered, arching an eyebrow.

"Ten," he concurred, his dark eyes glistening.

"Let's see," Ravena remarked, "By my calculations that comes to sixty points from Gryffindor, ten points from Ravensclaw, ten points from Hufflepuff, and twenty from Slytherin."

At the mention of his own house, Snape's eyes opened wide. His gaze swept the line to see which of his students had joined in the fray. His eyes came to rest on Crabbe and Goyle who hurriedly hid their wands behind their backs, guilty looks on their faces.

A self-satisfied smirk appeared on Ravena's lips. "Homework," she said, her tone suddenly business-like. "Please read the first two chapters of your text and write me an essay on conventional weaponry. Eighteen inches of parchment on my desk by next Monday please. And that concludes our first lesson. You are dismissed."

Her remarks were met by the usual groans from the students. As they gathered their things and marched off to the castle, Ravena turned her attention to Snape.

"Severus, may I have a word with you?" she asked, her voice softening.

"Not up to your usual par today, Ravena," Snape scorned, a scowl remaining on his face.

"Well, next time, I will ask Professor McGonagall to prepare me a less skilled opponent," Ravena shot back. "I daresay you could have done better."

"Perhaps you should conjure your own opponent," Snape replied, with a superior look.

Ravena guffawed. "You know very well that Transfiguration spells were never my forte," she countered, her blue eyes flashing. "And this requires a rather complicated bit of magic. It's certainly more than I can manage." Then she caught herself and struggled to restrain her temper. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. "Can we please not argue?"

Snape surveyed her with a curious stare. "Well, what do you want then?"

"My parents are hosting a society garden party this weekend at our country estate," Ravena explained. "All the best in pure-blood society and all that tripe." Her hand flicked a perfunctory wave. "Well, naturally, I must attend and I really can't suffer these affairs without your company. Will you please be my escort? I would count it a great personal favor." She cast him a pleading look.

Snape considered her request for a moment or two, his black eyes boring into hers. "And what about your mother?" he queried. "The last time, she hexed me."

"I have made arrangements to ensure that won't happen again," she replied, with a hopeful stare.

"I am certain it will not," Snape rejoined, his fist convulsively clutching his wand. "And the Malfoys?"

"Of course, they'll be present," Ravena replied, with an eager nod. "So may I count on you?"

"I suppose I could spare one afternoon," he said. Then after a pregnant pause, he added, "just for you, Ravena." Then he spun on his heels and strode back to the castle, his black robes billowing in his wake.

Ravena stared after him until he disappeared from sight. Her brow furrowed. Why was that man always so difficult? Intriguing and yet so very exasperating! She sighed. Her hand tossed the helmet into the open valise. It seemed to take forever to hit the bottom of the bag. A resounding gong echoed in the suitcase, an ominous ringing note.