Who: Alfred and Ivan
When: October 15th, midnight
Where: The Room of Requirements
What: A five year long rivalry has finally come to a head. Alfred F. Jones, Gryffindor's golden boy, versus his arch nemesis Ivan Braginky, one of Slytherin's most Machiavellian students. Who will come out on top? literally
It wasn't exactly odd to see Alfred F. Jones out of bed and roaming the halls at night, often going down the kitchens for a midnight snack, hanging out on the Quidditch field for some casual games with students from another house or planning a huge prank to play on Kirkland the next day. What was odd, was to see Alfred F. Jones pacing outside the Room of Requirements at midnight, brow furrowed as he thought hard of a place where he could take on the large Russian without getting caught.
Ivan had almost taken him on in the locker-room, waiting for him after one of the Gryffindor practices (Alfred was always last in because he did a few extra laps of the stadium). Before Alfred even could take off his sweaty and dirty Quidditch robes, Ivan had his wand out and attempted to curse him. Alfred barely had hit the ground before pulling out his own wand and they watched each other, Alfred kneeling, the locker beside him sporting a large shield of ice and Ivan standing, half-smiling down at him.
"Tonight," Alfred had said, getting to his feet, "Room of Requirements, midnight. We finish this."
The only answer he had received was a quiet "Da," which he was pretty sure meant yes.
Before he could think about it more, a large black door appeared on the wall with a large silver knocker and handle. He pushed it open, smiling inside, finding the room to be completely bare save for a slightly raised platform where the duel would take place. Torches in the wall illuminated the stone walls as Alfred stepped up onto the stage, pacing it, taking out it wand and flicking it around, standing to one side. He took a deep breath, muttering the Patronus charm and watching a small eagle soar out of wand, making only a half-turn of the room before Alfred heard the door open.
The memory of his family, of meeting a dragon hatchling for the first time with Matthew, both of them tucked in large ponchos to stave off the cold, vanished as his blue eyes fell onto the Russian. He offered a warm smile, shoving a hand into his pocket. "Hey," he said, "Surprised you showed up, thought you'd chickened out."