It had taken the seconds only a few days to settle the terms of the duel.  word had spread through the school quickly but when it was discovered that the matter would be settled with fists, rather than wands, interest waned quickly.  Still, there were those who were interested enough to show up in the Armour Gallery to watch one of Durstrang's Tetrawizard Tournament Champions go head to head with one of Hogwart's sixth year Ravenclaw.

The story of the duel, the events leading up to it[1]and the challenged issued from atop the Ravenclaw table[2] had spread through the lower classes, having been modified, twisted and incorrectly repeated until no one was certain who was the good guy of who was the bad guy, especially given Durmstrang's reputation in general and Heinrich Faust's in particular.  That the German boy was acting as champion and defender of a Chloe Harris, a girl who shared a house with his opponent Rohan Graham only made the rumour mill grind that much faster and muddied the water that much more.

Heinrich was stretching, preparing for the coming fight.  His shirt was already off, showing a body that was at least toned, if not exactly muscular.  He had an athlete's build rather than that of a seasoned fighter.   He was the youngest of seven, in a family where his father was also the youngest of seven, so he'd had more than his fair share of scraps with older and larger bothers and cousins.  Fighting Rohan would be child's play.

The rules were simple.  The duelists started with only their fists and their feet.  There were to be no low blows and no eye gouging.  Anything that might be a lethal blow, like a punch to the throat, was also barred.  Beyond that, anything went.  There would be no timekeeper, no breaks between rounds.  Things would continue until one or the other surrendered or was unable to continue.  There was likely to be a lot of blood spilled and likely a few broken, chipped or knocked out teeth, as well as bruises, sprains and possibly a broken bone or two.

All in all, it was going to be something seriously entertaining for the crowd, even if it was something very serious to the two boys involved.

1.	http://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=11684.0
2.	http://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=12372.msg99132#msg99132

          The time of the quickly arranged brawl came at a seemingly impossible speed upon Rohan, the time passing like The Flash zooming past his opponents in a footrace.  He couldn't help but feel a little nervous--which wasn't terrible, considering arrogance, an idea, would be of no assistance for physical actions.  He had never seen Heinrich fight anyone, so, unfortunately, his competition's skill was completely unknown to him, save for Faust's ridiculous, showy front-flip off of the Ravenclaw table, which told Han that Heinrich had agility, balance, and coordination, at the very minimum.  The guy was about as tall as him, so there was no advantage in size, fortunately.  He could've spent hours weighing the odds of the fight.

          What seemed like a good idea when Rohan accepted Heinrich's challenge now sounded foolish.  A public fight was a stupid way to 'settle' things, especially if the story was warped to the point where a viewer of the melee would be oblivious to why exactly they were fighting, their only knowledge being scrambled information fraught with rumors that bored students made up regarding Harris, Faust, and Rohan.  It was a mess, in short, and Han wished he had turned the opportunity to fight  down and lost a little bit of respect, rather than get beat up and have nothing but his pride; his knowledge that he didn't back down. 

          Rohan traveled upon his lonesome toward the Armor Gallery, his mind clogged with too many thoughts to even process.  He was positive that Rod would be there; the kid was a stray puppy without Rohan, which was a little sad, and a tad creepy.  He wasn't sure if he should've deserted the Armor Gallery and pretended he forgot about it, even though it was almost the only thing on his mind for a while.  No, that would make him the laughingstock of the 6th year.  He sighed as he shoved the door open to the Armor Gallery, seeing Heinrich before anything else.  "Oi!    Faust!"  He shouted, trying to get his attention. 

       

     

Heinrich turned.  "Last chance to apologize before you get beaten, rather than waiting until afterwards,"  he said.  Then he nodded towards a dusty suit of armour.  "My wand is in the right gauntlet.  You can put yours in the left or pick another suit.  I solemnly swear that I will use no spell, charm or potion during this duel and I have used none to prepare."

Heinrich was prepared for either possibility but he didn't expect Rohan to back down at the last minute.  The Ravenclaw boy seemed energetic, almost enthusiastic.  It was not going to be an easy victory.  Heinrich was going to have to earn it. 

Blossom was in a corner with his notepad.  He looked up when Rohan walked in and smiled.  He'd made book on the Durmstrang boy arriving first but several people had bet long odds on Rohan not showing.  That bet was now resolved in a quite satisfactory manner. 

"Now taking bets on who takes the first swing, who connects first and who hits the ground first.  Also bets on how long they stay down.  Odds favour the home team."  Rohan had a connection to Slytherin, so Blossom tipped the odds slightly in his favour for that reason.  It wouldn't do to have the visitor win.

          "No, thanks, I'll not be apologizing to you anytime soon."  Was an apology all that was really necessary to get out of this mess?  Even If that was all Heinrich wanted, Rohan still refused to give him what he desired.  He walked over to the outdated metal suit that already held Faust's wand and shoved his own in the opposite gauntlet.  He wasn't going to cheat so he could win.  After all, what was the point of that?

          "I solemnly swear that I will use no charm, spell or potion and have not used any to prepare," he repeated as he turned away from the armor.  Heinrich nitpicked every possible way to gain an unfair advantage, as if absolutely no one would notice if something as ridiculously obvious as a spell or potion was used during the fight.  After considering the sparse amount of people in the room, he asked Heinrich,

          "We should wait for more people to show up, yeah?"

"You still don't get it,"  Heinrich said, shaking his head.  "It isn't me you need to apologize to.  It's Chloe.  You abused her, stole from her and threatened her.  I'm just forcing you to pay for your crimes. "

The German boy continued to limber up and looked at the small audience.  He'd expected more people.  "If you want to wait a few more minutes to see if anyone else is going to arrive, I don't see why we can't."  He threw a few experimental punches, then smiled.  "If you're in a hurry to get to the healer's hut, we can start now.  I'm easy either way."

Heinrich had expected to feel something before the duel started but he hadn't been prepared for the excitement he felt.  He came from a nation known for their martial prowess.  Their tempers were hard to rouse but when they did they burned hot and deep.  Whether he won or lost, Rohan was about to take a pounding.  So was he, for that matter but that didn't figure into Heinrich's thought processes.  He was in the right, so Rohan was going to lose.  No matter how hard he fought, Heinrich was going to have to fight that much harder.

Never thought I'd be thanking Karl and Dolf for picking on me so much....

Warren was a little behind on why exactly Rohan and Heinrich were about to duke it out in a room full of sharp pointy things. He knew that it had something to do with Rohan hitting a girl or something along those lines. It was hard not to know that after Heinrich's display during breakfast earlier that week.  Warren didn't know either of the combatants that well. Although, he was more familiar with Rohan for the obvious reasons. After Heinrich's suicidal flip, that he landed, Warren wasn't so sure how well Rohan would hold up.

The older Slytherin noticed one of his younger peers. He strode across the room to him, his eyes matching up the two fighters as he did so.

"How good are the odds for Rohan getting the first punch in on the Faust kid?" Warren inquired of Blossom, whilst digging in the deep pockets of his robes for a stray galleon or a couple sickles.

It wasn't that Warren supported the Ravenclaw going around hitting women or whatever it is that he had done, it was mostly that he just didn't want to be seen betting against his own school. That sort of thing never really engendered good will, at least not in any instances that he could think of.

"And while you're doing odds, what odds would you give that someone falls onto something sharp at some point and has to go to the infirmary?"

Figaro knew it was wrong and that's what made it so imperative he had to see.  He and a couple other kids in his year slunk into the Armor Gallery by the back entrance, having been careful not to look like they were going to watch a couple of lads duke it out muggle-style.

Figaro, of course, wasn't taking it at all seriously.  It was hilariously, stupidly barbaric.  Why hadn't he thought of this?  As he passed the Slytherin firstie taking bets, she handed him five sickles.  "Faust's going to murdurate him," Figaro said.  "Graham's on the floor in three minutes."

The boys in question were getting set to hit each other, and Figaro found a pillar to lean against nearby Warren.  He clapped his hands obnoxiously.

"Everybody! Hit somebody! Everybody! Hit somebody! C'mon, let's go, lads.  Ain't a dance, innit!"  His delightfully mocking tone echoed in the chamber off all the suits of armor who shifted their weight from foot to foot and tightened their grips on their glaives and maces and battle axes.

Remi had heard almost every rumor about these two. He, at first, believed them but after a few days he just ignored it all. At least until he heard of the fight. Remi became anxious on the inside all day, trying to contain himself. Not that he needed to, no one would really notice if he was smiling or getting restless. Remi was walking down to the armory, not really caring if he was late or not. When he opened the door he easily slipped in from Figaro's babbling.

When he saw Rhoan's opposition he felt sorry for Rohan. The other student seemed much more of a fighter than him. Remi knew this would get ugly real quick so he sat down near a suit of armor. Since Remi couldnt interfere physically he tried to at least freak out the other student. Since many people have a tendacy to feel uncomfortable when being watched, Remi just stared at the other student, blank expression and appearing to be emotionless. Maybe this will help Rohan.

Chloe walked into the armor gallery, dreading every step. She wanted to avoid seeing Rohan at all costs. Who knows what he was planning, or what he was scheming against her. There was no doubt in her mind that Heinrich would lose. Rohan would fall to Heinrich because he did something wrong, and the good guy always wins against the bad guy.

She honestly felt like Helen, from The Illiad. Here she was, being fought over by the man she loved and the man she despised. It wasn't actually going to Rohan if he won, though. It would just bring dishonor. Truly, it didn't even matter who won. It was just the fact that Heinrich stood up for her in the first place; that he was willing to do all of this for her.

"Heinrich," She said behind him, a nervous smile on her face. "Hi." She glanced over to Rohan. He seemed ready and waiting. Chloe didn't want to watch the fight. It'd be too tough on her.

"There she is," Figaro laughed as Chloe Harris made her way in.  Usually Figaro had no problem at all with Chloe.  She was nice.  But this was a bit overdramatic, wasn't it.

"You really going to let these gits go at it over you?" he said loudly to Chloe.  "That's very classy, Chloe.  Really.  Maybe I can jump in as well?"

Flippant and insensitive, that Figaro.  But from his perspective all he saw was Chloe seemingly approving of a lovers' duel where the best man would win her heart.  Or something.  Figaro hadn't been paying that much attention.

Rohan watched as a few more people walked in, most making a beeline to a young Slytherin who appeared to be taking bets.  Fantastic.  Now money was involved, which meant cheering and more people attentive on the fight.  In walked Chloe, and he felt stupid and had the fleeting urge to apologize; it was the right thing to do, after all.  He could take the kind way out and clean up a mess with 'I'm sorry'.  Rohan considered it.  No, he'd finish what he started by beating Faust to a pulp.

A sucker punch wasn't included in what wasn't allowed, so he might attempt one.  "Hmm."  Rohan tried to look and sound sheepish. " Chloe, I think I owe you an apol-"  He threw his fist as hard as he could directly into Heinrich's face while he appeared to be distracted.  "I'm ready."  He shuffled backward, anticipating Faust's advance.  "Come and get me!" 

"Throws the first punch or lands the first punch?  The odds are different."  Blossom mader a quick note of  Warren's choice.  Deus had taught him well.  He didn't even mention the fact that he'd overheard the Durmstrang boy saying he 'wouldn't throw the first punch but would certainly throw the last'.  Whether that punch would land or not was another story.  He looked up at the various armour displays.  "Even money on an injury caused by something outside the fight.  Odds are long that the fight will end that way, though."

He dutifully recorded Figaro's bet.  "I assume you mean Faust will win inside of three minutes," Blossom said.  He fully expected the fight to last longer than that, since neither of the boy could exactly be described as a professional MMA fighter.  If Figaro wanted to throw his money away, who was Blossom to stop him?

His mouth fell open when Rohan threw a sucker punch.  First landed punch to Rohan Graham.  Why didn't I set odds on somebody taking a cheap shot?

Rohan's fist flattened Heinrich's nose and made his ears ring.  Had the Ravenclaw pressed his attack, Heinrich might have been worried.  He had a hard German head, however and all the punch did was make him mad.  He thought about throwing out a comment about Rohan demonstrating his character with the blind side attack but chose not to. 

He wiped his nose, which was tricking blood.  He looked at his fingers, red and wet and licked them.  "That one was free.  The rest you pay for."  Rohan was waiting for him to charge blindly.  It wasn't going to happen.

He stepped forward, faking a fist towards Rohan's face and following it with the real attack, a booted foot aimed at the boys knee.

Across the room, Blossom ticked off a line in his book.    First blood, Rohan Graham.

Heinrich seemed infuriated and Rohan expected a wild charge towards him, but instead Faust calmly stepped forward, throwing a punch.  He leaned backwards as not to have a fist on his face, but instead received a clever hit to the leg.  He stumbled, having lost his balance.  Han did not hit the ground, luckily, but his already injured knee suggested he would soon.  There was no clear advantage, and he felt as if the fight would be grueling for both him and Faust. 

He aimed a kick into Heinrich's stomach and danced away, not wanting to be flipped if Faust grabbed his leg.  He made another advance, waiting for his opponent's next attack.  He was ready to counter it, but put a stupid grin on his face, like he thought he had it in the bag.  "Ready to give up?"  He teased.