(1939-01-15) Fit To Be Fought
Details for Fit To Be Fought
Summary: Variel takes advantage of a moment of lax defenses on Esther's part- unsanctioned competition, an unexpected meeting and prefect power ensues!
Date: 1939-01-15
Location: Hogwarts, Empty Classroom

Another day, another room annexed and secured. Not due for use for a couple hours, at least, it'd serve well for Variel's purposes. He'd finished work on the garment, and it was time to see how well it fit the intended.

Esther enters somewhat shyly, this time. The garment was intended to be a suprise, so rather than try and protect herself by telling Myrus where she was and when she'd be back, she could only hope that their friendship mattered far more than whatever else Variel might want from her. Still, it's only a paranoid voice whispering in her ear. She'd made herself clear. They were friends. Nothing more.

Esther slides in through the door, turning to tap the lock with a soft "Colloportus." She doesn't want to be seen in the middle of getting changed. Even Variel will be made to turn around.

Variel smiles when Esther arrives. "You look well, Esther. Have you had a good couple of days, I trust?" He stands and turns, working on removing something from the garment bag he's brought along. "Stand a few paces in front of the desk, if you don't mind."

"… Troubling." Esther admits, placing her bookbag by the door, and placing her wand atop of it. Safe here. Variel's familiar tone puts her at ease. "Musidora and I spoke again… Which was nice. And Zayn…" She lifts a hand to her heart, forming a fist with her hand and tightening it. A bizarre symbol. "… I don't know what to think about Zayn. He is certainly a giving person, sometimes I worry that he gives so much that others will take from him indescriminately." The girl is remarkably honest. She walks to the front of the desk, standing there.

"The Shafiqs tend to be. Shazi's one of the most generous and friendly people I know. Sometimes I wonder- Locomotor Mortis-" He intones casually, swishing his wand in Esther's direction, continuing as her legs press firmly together, leaving her with the vaguely difficult task of staying upright- though he's no intention of allowing her to fall and hurt herself. "-how he ended up in your house." Variel tilts his eyes to the wand, then back to Esther. "Knowledge first, right? Doesn't seem very wise to leave one's wand out of reach, -and- be obvious about it."

Notably, he doesn't get up from where he's sitting. Whatever his aim is doesn't seem to include making her balancing act any more difficult.

Esther was thinking of some kind of response already. Far more than defending herself from a friend - Someone who casts a leg-locker curse on her. The girl frowns when the spell takes affect, her arms out as she tries to keep her balance. Once he's finished talking though, she murmurs. "You don't want to play this game, Variel." She states /very/ simply. There's a moment of concentration, as the slender girl tries to take a step back. Forcing herself, overcoming the spell and then falling backwards rather dramatically fro mthe sheer force she tries to step back with.

"I wasn't exactly invited to- Pulvino," he incants simply, flicking the wand. Nothing obvious happens, but Esther lands on something soft and invisible a few inches off the ground, rather than cracking her head on anything. "-invited to play. As far as I'm concerned, the game started the moment someone showed me how powerless I was if I wasn't vigilant. Unless you think I'm playing a bully's game, in which case you can relax. I've no intention of taking anything from you, much less something of value. Would you like your wand, Esther?"

Esther falls onto the cushion, and blushes faintly. "The rules aren't about vigilance. They're about expecting the worse." She slowly eases herself up, the curse having been broken so easily already. "… If you want to play, Variel, I'm happy to. I've been looking for someone to fight for a long time. For the same reason you're talking about here. Dark wizards don't play fair, Variel. They don't bow, they don't wait. They attack. And counter attack. And counter attack." A frown, "Yes. My wand, please." He might be older than her. But she is no stranger to spells. No stranger to fighting until the end, either.

"Expecting the worst and having the stones to take the initiative- and, hopefully, the forebearance to recognize the difference between proactivity and paranoia. Wingardium Leviosa," he remarks, flitting the length of vinewood towards Esther's bag. Her wand pops into the air and swirls vaguely as he sends it to her hand.

"I think you'll find," Esther begins, brushing off her skirt from the imaginary dirt. "That expecting attacks from your friends is an incredibly poor— Expelliarmus!" The girl snatches her wand from midair, an aggressive flick matching the spell as she attempts to rip Variel's wand from his hand. Esther looks terrible, and beautiful, with her wand lifted in aggression. "… Way to live." She ends her sentence. Grip on her wand strong. Now that he's playing… Even if he might be discouraged.

"You're an attractive young witch, Esther, surrounded by scads of teenaged wizards. If nothing else- Flipendo!" His tone doesn't change as he incants the spell, thrusting his wand at Esther like a rapier as he releases the magic towards her, "-Expect trickery!"

Esther's wand is dismissive. To the side, she calls out. "Deflecto." The spell is flicked off in the direction of her wand, sending a desk flying a good ten feet. The witch takes a few light steps back, balancing on the balls of her feet, lifting herself up a few centimeters and turning a little side on. Her wand jabs at his throat, as she does something that could be all but crippling to the sixth year's combat. "Mimble Wimble!"

Variel waits until he hears precisely what the pretty little witch has in mind, and flicks his wand silently. He makes no attempt to prevent her from casting her spell, instead sending his own slinging past hers without a word.

There's no way that Variel would have the confidence to cast silently at her. Esther's own spell is a GREAT success, rending Variel barely able to string a sentence together, but the light hold is hit by /something./ Her shock is almost enough to stun her, but a moment later she's dived after her wand. Graceful enough to not make it look desperate, although she /is/.

Variel grins mutely and snaps his wand as Esther dives for the wand, wordlessly invoking another spell as she lunges, intent on knocking Esther away from her wand, rather than the wand away from her.

Esther's dive is completed in a roll, the slender woman grasping her wand as the spell hits her, and pushes her a good few meters back. She staggers a little, keeping a hold on her wand, responding with a roll that ducks in, and ends with the delicate dancer on her knees, than on her feet. Hair wild, face flustered.

Variel flicks his wand up while Esther is all flustered and trying to get into position to defend herself. He has another plan in action- one that may- or may not- work out in his favor.

Nothing happens, though, leaving the sixth year looking a touch frustrated.

Esther smiles. "Still learning how to cast silently, Variel? Not feeling too lucky, I take it." Her wand repeats the first spell. "Expelliarmus!" Targetting his wand again, now that he'll find protection spells so much more difficult.

Variel grimaces and flicks his wand angrily, intending to backhand… backwand? The spell away.

Variel stumbles back a pace as Esther's spell punches past the silent, and weakened, defensive charm, leaving him to START dashing after his wand, already a good distance away.

Esther is already advancing, wand out. "Flipendo!" She calls, with Variel's wand still in the air. She'll pin him to the wall, magically, if she can. Hair bouncing, eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. Perhaps she's more like her tall cousin than she lets on.

Variel is treated to the uncomfortable experience of getting thrown into the air with the greatest of ease. There's a tiny bit of him that supposes that a trapeze would be a better way to do so, but then he's landing head over heels and skidding to a stop on his rump. It takes him a split second to clear his head and realize he's not just been treated like his wand, but sent to roughly the same spot as well. Much as Esther had just done, he whips a hand out to snag it and starts trying to fight back to his feet, focused mostly on defending himself.

Esther's wand is back in play again. Either she didn't realise, or she didn't care that Variel's wand has been reunited with him. A delighted giggle to have the older student on the defensive. "Relashio!" She's pointing at his wand. Evil bitch that she is, while advancing on him. There's a click, and then a shake of the door. "Is everyone alright in there?"

Variel whips his wand up and quips, "Deflecto!" The jinx had worn off a moment or two ago, but without his wand, he'd had no real reason to reveal that little detail as he tried to get to his feet!

Variel's reunion with his wand is short lived, it seems, as the all too eager Esther forces him back a few paces with her spell, his wand dropping where his feet had been a moment ago.

Poor Dora. She's awkward, because life is. "Excuse me," there comes the knocking again, soft enough to actually somehow convey the sound of apology with every little rap of her knuckles. "But is everyone alright? Only this door is locked and it sounds…" Well, a lot like it did when she went to get a Prefect the last time someone was being picked on.

Variel moves to reclaim his wand while Dora's doing the whole sheepish apology knock. His expression says he's trying to place the voice while he reaches for his wand.

"Game Over." Esther states simply, her wand flicking at his and casting a relatively simple spell. "Accio Wand!" The wreckage from their fight is small. An overturned desk, Esther's robe has a little bit of dirt on it, and the girl's slight chest is heaving a little bit. The voice if finally acknowledged, now that the fight is over. "Everything's fine, in here." Esther states to the door, wandering over to it. It's her spell, after all, so she has no trouble with removing it and opening the door, to reveal the room. And Esther, holding her wand. "Just a bit of a spell-accident."

Variel snatches up his wand the instant it starts to skid away from his fingers. He gives Esther a look- it's simultaneously triumphant and congratulatory- the look of someone who's managed to prevent defeat, though certainly not claim any sort of actual victory, against a respected adversary.

Dora, meanwhile, is Dora. Eleven year olds are taller than she is. And, she worries. "Okay!" The toad toating waif replies. "I'll go get someone to help!" And she's so sweetly sincere about all of it, whilst Mister Bubbles looks less inclined to believe well, anything, but then he always did.

Variel murmurs the word Tergeo and, with a flick of his wand, the dirt and dust on Esther sloughs off as one, settling to the ground at her feet! "If you want to help, it'd be simpler to just lend a hand straightening up? We've already got most of the accident handled- just a little more tidying to do." He looks the diminutive girl over. "… Selwyn. Right?"

Esther nods. "Amazing what a single miscast spell can do." She sends a pointed look at Variel. The game has begun, it seems. Aodrabella earns a gentle smile for her time and trouble. "We don't need help just to put a few things right. It's a good thing you came along when you did, though." Sounding so amazingly genuine.

Penseverus looks so absolutely unimpressed. Within his eyes is the judgment of not just one tone, but many. The multitude of the voiceless, the four legged, the warted and downtrodden. The slimey. Falsehoods decreed at the top of his lungs, condemning the guilty to the tone of a single croak that comes with a bubble that only gets bigger the louder he gets, until it bursts. The boy said help and the girl made it rather pointedly plain that help wasn't wanted. So instead Dora bites her lip and bobs her head at the question; long tumble down locks dancing as she does. "It is."

"Thought so. You're one of the only other people on both halves of the Art club. Have you taken any favorite photographs since the last meeting?" Variel keeps up the conversation as he moves to keep straightening up the room. There's not really much to do, all told- whatever the accident had been must not have involved anything too drastic, thankfully.

"Lowe!" The voice that comes from outside is loud. And one that knows her by name. The female Prefect - A Slytherin, sixth year no less - Appears in the doorway behind Adorabella, with a face like thunder. "You, Weasley. I heard you too. Don't think for a second I didn't hear just what you two were up to. You, clean up this damned mess. And you, Lowe, are coming with me." Esther's smile at getting away with it… Fades, rather abruptly. A bite of her lower lip, a sheepish glance at Variel. The prefect storms off without a further word, and Esther follows…

Spells used by Variel- Locomotor Mortis, Pulvino, Wingardium Leviosa, Deflecto, Protego, Flipendo, Expelliarmus, Tergeo
Spells used by Esther- Expelliarmus, Deflecto, Mimble Wimble, Flipendo, Relashio

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