The doors of the Great Hall were open, depriving Heinrich of the chance to slam them open.  It forced him to improvise.  He needed to deliver a message loud and clear and he had the perfect way.  At this point, almost no one was aware of his presence.  That was about to change.

There were a few protests when he stepped up onto the Ravenclaw table but he ignored them.  Polished boots crushed platters of food that swirled out behind him before knitting themselves back together in his wake.  He strode the length of the table, looking for Rohan.


Heinrich stopped when he found the boy.  He turned to face him and with the toe of one boot, pushed Rohan's plate of food into his lap.

When he spoke, his voice was amplified and everyone in the room heard it.

"Rohan Graham, I am Heinrich Vladimir Johannes Faust.  I call you a coward.  I call you a thief.  I call you a blackmailer and a bully.  You beat those weaker than you to try and cover your crimes. I stand before you as the champion of Chloe harris, a girl you beat, robbed, threatened and blackmailed. "

He paused, letting his words soak in.  "Your choices are these.  Admit your crimes,  beg forgiveness from the one you have offended and return what you have stolen or face me.    I challenge you to stand against someone who can defend themselves.  I challenge you to a duel, Rohan Graham."

With that Heinrich pulled off one of his gloves and threw it into Rohan's face.

It was a generic morning in the Great Hall, nothing too special, positive or negative to the students having breakfast.  Nothing exciting. 

Of course, it just had to change just for Rohan to be a horrible day.  A pair of shiny boots sauntered nonchalantly on the long table, and he wasn't sure if he was really seeing it. He looked up to see the face of Heinrich, the one guy he didn't want to see after yesterday.  His tray was booted onto his lap, ruining his Ravenclaw robes for the day.

 He pretended to perk up at the mention of his own name saying, "That's the name, don't wear it out!"  He was taken aback by Faust's dramatic approach, and mortified that he announced in front of the whole school exactly what he had done.  He sort of deserved the embarrassment and change of opinion.  "You know what?"  He asked, standing.  "I, Rohan Arthur Graham, accept your challenge, Heinrich Vladimir Johannes Faust," he said confidently, trying to wipe the shock off his face. Using full names was a mouthful.

  With that, Heinrich's glove collided with Rohan's face.  "Rude," he commented.  "Before we 'duel', what exactly does this 'duel' entail?"  He questioned, unsheathing a paintbrush before realizing he had reached into the wrong pocket.  Everyone was watching, and he just pulled a brush instead of the wand he intended to wield.  Blushing furiously, he switched the two, his proper weapon pointed at Heinrich. 

"Put your wand away, unless you want to be called a cheat as well as a coward,"  Heinrich said, his eyes boring into Rohan.  "As the challenged party, the choice of the duel's format is yours.  Traditionally wizards duel with wands, obviously but I wouldn't expect you to be overly familiar with etiquette after what you've done.  You may chose whatever weapon you feel appropriate.  If you feel you'd have a better chance not using your wand, feel free to select some other form of combat.  Choose your fists.  I'm sure you'd find hitting something quite familiar and comforting.  Choose lances on horseback or sabres on brooms.  You don't need to choose now.  If you can find someone willing to stand beside a coward and a bully, let me know who it is and our two seconds can negotiate terms.  It allows us to arrange  things without us having to speak directly after this, because if we do speak, something unfortunate might occur."

Rohan scoffed.  "I'd curse circles around you, Faust.  I fancy wizardry would be no fun for either of us because you'd be on the ground in a second."  He paused, not sure he even wanted to accept Heinrich's 'duel'.  It just made him seem like an ego hungry maniac.  But he would look like even more of a coward and a jerk by backing down.  "And I don't believe walking on tables is proper etiquette by any means.  I'm not sure, but I really thought you knew all about that stuff.  Enlighten me," he sneered, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice, him finding it unnecessary in the situation.  "Call me a coward again and I'll tattoo a swastika on your back.  Wait…  you probably already have one."  A snarky grin crossed his face.  "And, by the way, because we both know how a wizardry duel would end, we may simply fight, hand-to-hand," he finished, recognizing only then that, with his comments, he had just bullied Heinrich. 

The corners of Heinrich's mouth turned up.  It wasn't a pleasant smile.  "I was expecting you to make a cheap shot like that.  I'm glad you didn't disappoint.  It's a pity you didn't go with spell dueling.  You'd find out how wrong you are.  Fists it is.  Our seconds can work out the details."

Heinrich vaulted off the table.  He executed a flip with a half twist, perfected from countless hours of snow boarding.  It was a horribly showy maneuver, meant to intimidate through sheer athletic prowess.  If he'd blown the landing,  it would have made Heinrich the laughing stock of the school.  It likely wouldn't win him any friends though.  Most of Hogwart's had their opinion of him set in stone, for right or wrong.  Whether the current situation would change that he didn't care.  Rohan needed to be sent a message.