Afternoon. The Labyrinth, Department of Mysteries.


       "You need to be faster than that, Carstairs."

Despite his words, Carr Rosier was breathing hard as they circled one another in the chamber. It was a large room with high ceilings, and otherwise resembled the rest of the Labyrinth with its obsidian surfaces and torches of blue flame.

Rosier had shed his robes at the start of their duel - shirtsleeves rolled up, vest unbuttoned, hair uncharacteristically wild. He held his wand in casting position - deceptively loose at the wrist.

"I'm just matching your pace..." Virgil, far more casually dressed, gave his own wand a mindless twirl.
       "Well, don't." Carr retorted. "You're too bloody reactive--"

He twisted his wand on the emphasis, sending out a burst of orange light[1]. Virgil sidestepped as he deflected and quickly flung back two castings of infligo. The spells sizzled against Rosier's shields.

They continued in this fashion: casting and deflecting without incantation, neither wizard landing a curse. His opponent was slowly putting distance between them, which made him a little nervous.

And for good reason.

He yelled, the floor abruptly giving way to a shock of cold, ankle-deep. Virgil swore - all around him the floor undulated like black water[2] as it started flowing in one direction. What the he--

       "Sink or swim!" Carr yelled over the growing roar of water.

What was ankle deep suddenly wasn't. The undertow jerked at his feet and Virgil plunged in with a gurgling scream. He gripped his wand tightly, not wanting to lose it, and struggled to thrust it aloft to cast a rope charm. His fingers closed on the tail end of the conjured rope.

V gasped for air as he pulled himself out of the whirlpool, quickly throwing up a protego. Rosier's hex ricocheted right off. The next one sliced the top end of Virgil's rope.

He landed, to his surprise, on the cold hard floor. His knees ached from the fall.

Virgil rolled onto his back - soaked to the bone but there was no longer any trace of the whirlpool. He heard Carr's footsteps approach but didn't budge, simply waited and caught his breath.

The other Unspeakable smiled down at him and he stuck his tongue out in response.

1.	Turpiscarpo
2.	Whirlpool Spell

"Are you going to teach me that one?" V croaked, slowly sitting up.
       "Eventually." Rosier offered a hand up. "You must act faster. You're overthinking the situation."

That sounded like him, yes.

Virgil got to his feet and ran a hand through his wet hair to get it out of his eyes. "That was insane," he muttered.

       "Of course it was," his dueling partner reprimanded, chipper. "Agency Unspeakables won't use garden variety hexes. If you don't learn to cope with the unexpected, you won't survive getting caught."

Ideally, he wouldn't get caught at all spying on Hawthorne's lot. Yavin was having him trained for the possibility anyway. He just didn't realise his tutor would be this adept.

The wizard in question took out a pocket watch. "How is your wandless going?"

Virgil smiled dryly and lifted his hand. A flame leapt to life on his index finger - and then all his other fingers in succession.

       "Very nice." Rosier pocketed the watch. "We'll start you on endurance next week. Forty eight hours in the dungeon, no wand."
"Joy..." V drawled as he cast a drying charm on himself.

That was going to be the worst of it. He liked to think himself recovered from Mortimer Gamp's kidnappings[1] - from being left for dead in these very rooms - but even then he hadn't been alone. He had been with his friends.

This time he'll have no one.

The older man's good humour faded slightly, something serious in those usually affable eyes. He placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Morgenthau isn't paranoid." Carr squeezed the shoulder. "Remember, he worked for the Americans. He was one of them, he knows what they're capable of doing. So if he thinks this is necessary..."

Then it was necessary.

The younger wizard nodded once, mirroring the seriousness. It seemed like such a grand adventure when he agreed to be Yavin's eyes on Cyrus Hawthorne. Every day since then has proven otherwise. Nothing about it was going to be easy.

       "Virgil..." Rosier let go and spoke very quietly, as if not wanting to be overheard. "Are you sure about this?"

Virgil didn't even have to think about it.

"I can do this," he nodded again, firmly. "Yavin wouldn't have asked me if he didn't think the same."

It came down to that, even with all his doubts. Yavin was putting so much trust and faith in V not to fuck this up. So he wasn't going to fuck it up from the start by letting him down.

Carr Rosier sighed softly. "Alright. One more time, then. En garde."

1.	Mischief Unmanaged