Pairing McGonagall/Snape Rating NC17 Warnings Very little plot Summary When Severus Snape returns to Hogwarts as a teacher, Minerva cannot fathom what Dumbledore is thinking. However, when she finds her sympathy for the troubled young man growing, she decides that there are a few more lessons she can teach him. Disclaimer The world of HP and its characters belongs to Rowling. The author of this fic has borrowed them for the purposes of storytelling. No profit was or will be made. Word count ~6,090
The Comfort of Friends
It was one of those days when the wind whistled through every crack in the old castle's windowsills. The kind of day when the weather defied the charms that normally kept Hogwarts impervious to such mundane troubles: there was a flood in one of the lower dungeons, and one of Pomona's sheds had been blown over. So, watching the two figures making their slow way across Hogwarts' grounds, Minerva wondered just who it was that Dumbledore had insisted on fetching on such a day.
Curiosity finally getting the better of her, she abandoned the window seat in her office, and went down to welcome the newcomers.
Dumbledore and his guest were already in the foyer by the time she had reached the head of the last staircase, and she peered down, trying to see if the figure in black standing next to Dumbledore was familiar to her. Beginning to make her way down the stone stairs, she thought that the man bore a striking resemblance to a drowned rat. She guessed that the person was a man more from his height than from any breadth of chest or shoulder, and with his soaked cloak clinging to his slim frame, it was clear that he could do with a few good meals.
The man's hair was as black as Minerva's own, but whilst hers was pulled tightly back in a neat bun, his was a mess of sodden clumps that hung untidily down to his shoulder blades. It was the hair that was obstructing her view of his face, that and the way that he was hunched over. All in all, he was a sorry sight, and again she wondered what on earth Dumbeldore was up to.
Her scrutiny was brought to an end when Dumbeldore spotted her.
"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall."
"Good afternoon, Headmaster," she responded, stopping at the base of the staircase. She gave his guest, who still had his back to her, a pointed look.
"Ah, let me introduce our new Potions Master," Dumbledore said, placing his hands on the shoulders of the dark man, and guiding, almost forcing, the man to face her more directly. "You remember Severus, I'm sure."
Minerva stared. She did indeed remember Severus Snape, but not like this. The boy was a wreck! True, he had never been all that appealing to look at while he had been a student, a truculent teenager who had been more apt to scowl than smile, but he had always had the arrogance and self-assuredness to look his teachers in the eye, almost daring them to say that he wasn't their equal. The boy in front of her had his gaze lowered to the ground, and he had not bothered to look up, despite their introduction.
"New Potions Master?" she forced herself to say.
"Yes. Horace left the announcement of his retirement rather late, so Severus has kindly agreed to join us at short notice."
"Is he qualified?" Minerva asked, her sharp tongue speaking before manners could reel the question in.
Dumbledore chuckled. "He gained his teacher's certificate earlier in the year, which is why I knew that he would be available for a position this autumn. It was most convenient."
Minerva swept her gaze over the boy in front of her again. She supposed that she would have to stop thinking of him as such if they were to be colleagues, but it was hard to stop thinking of her former pupils as adults after decades of separation, let alone when the student in question was barely three years graduated. The boy could only be twenty-one.
"Severus," Dumbledore prompted, quietly, but in a tone that made Minerva frown.
Finally, Severus raised his head, and in the instant that their eyes connected, Minerva wondered if she would ever be able to think of him as a boy again. The darkness under his eyes had not been shadows cast by the foyer's high lighting, they were bruises from lack of sleep, and his face had a thin and haggard quality that had certainly not been there when he had been a student. He looked as though he had seen too much, and considering whom he had been friends with at school, Minerva thought that was all too likely.
"Headmaster!"
They were disturbed by Filch, who hurried into the foyer and beckoned Dumbledore to move away and have a private word. Minerva watched them for a moment, but when she couldn't hear what had Filch so excited she turned her attention back to Severus.
He had lowered his head again, his untidy hair, hiding him from her critical gaze. Deciding that enough was enough, she clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him start, and called out to Dumbledore.
"I'll take Severus to his chambers, Albus."
"Ah, thank you, Minerva. Horace's old rooms have been prepared for him. I shall see you both at dinner."
Shaking her head over Dumbledore's disinterest, Minerva turned to go, but had to stop when she realised that Severus hadn't moved to follow her. Sighing impatiently and wondering just what was wrong with the man, she placed a hand on his shoulder, as Dumbledore had done earlier, and physically guided him away from the foyer.
Once he had got the message that he was to follow her, Minerva was able to withdraw her hand, and she folded her arms, feeling chilled by the silence from Severus and nervous about the circumstances in which he had accepted the Potions position. Being a member of Dumbledore's group working against Voldemort, she knew that the Headmaster sometimes did the strangest of things in order to bring about some result.
Glancing at Severus again, she wondered if the young man was a part of one such plan.
"Well, Severus," she said, in a voice much brighter than usual, once they had reached the chambers that had once belonged to Slughorn.
When Severus didn't move she pushed open the door herself and stepped inside. The chambers had indeed been prepared to receive a guest, and the trunk at the end of the made-up bed answered her unasked question about his luggage.
Severus had followed her inside, and she was relieved to see him actually begin to take an interest in his surroundings as he looked about him.
Feeling more at ease because of it, she smiled at Severus and offered, "Take a look around. I'll just fetch a towel for your hair."
It took but a moment to fetch a thick, fluffy towel from the bathroom, and when she stepped back into the main room, Severus had sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked very tired and very young despite the bruises that had startled her so much in the foyer.
Sitting next to him, she hesitated for a moment and then began towelling his hair dry. He was unresponsive throughout, and after Minerva coaxed him out of his cloak, and pulled off his boots, he obediently curled up under the covers Minerva tucked around him.
Walking back to her own chambers afterwards, Minerva felt an inexplicable and unusual anger at Dumbledore.
*****
The last days of the summer holidays disappeared in a flurry of lesson plans, timetable drafts, and student rosters. Beyond the cursory greetings exchanged when the staff met to discuss the year ahead, Minerva had little time to consider Severus Snape further, and as he was keeping to himself, Minerva felt that it was something best left alone.
It was the third week into term that she encountered one of the Gryffindor seventh years talking loudly at the Head of that House, Professor Miller.
"And what prompted Professor Snape to give you all detention?" Professor Miller enquired calmly, giving Minerva a tight smile as she joined them.
"Nothing! We were only laughing at a joke Jenny made, and he shouted at us and- and he told Jenny that he had some potion that could shut her big mouth for her!"
"Fine, Miss Carter. I will go have a word with Pro-"
Minerva coughed, not entirely convinced that Miss Carter was telling the whole truth, and surprised that Professor Miller seemed so ready to accept the tale he was being told.
"Excuse me, Miss Carter," she said, "could you tell us what had amused the class?"
Miss Carter shifted uneasily, the guilty look on her face spoke volumes.
"I'd rather not say," the girl prevaricated.
"I'd rather you did," Minerva responded firmly.
"Jenny called him 'Professor Snivellus'," Miss Carter reluctantly admitted.
"Ah!" Professor Miller breathed knowingly, and Minerva sighed.
She had wondered if Severus would suffer the teasing of those students who remembered him three years ago. She had always been glad that when she had returned to the school to teach it had been late enough for none of the students she had shared the school with to remain, and she had never been so publicly bullied as Severus had been, and certainly not by boys as popular as James Potter and Sirius Black.
"Run along, Miss Carter" Professor Miller instructed. "You should get some dinner before your detention. And if I hear that anything else of the sort has been said to Professor Snape I will be the one handing out the detentions. Understood?"
"Yes, Professor," Miss Carter said glumly, and the girl strode off down the corridor.
"I'm sorry about that, Minerva," Professor Miller apologised. "I had heard that young Severus had been handing out quite a few detentions, but I hadn't realised the root of the problem. Do you think I should go talk to the fellow?"
Minerva shook her head. "No. I don't think he would welcome it. Perhaps I'll pay him a visit later on. It might be better coming from somebody in less of a position of authority."
Professor Miller nodded. "Yes, I dare say you're right. Though, you'll have to get used to being authoritative soon. I have recommended you as my replacement at the end of the year."
Minerva smiled. "Thank you, Richard. I appreciate it."
*****
Waiting until the seventh year Potions group had filed out and disappeared from the dank corridor, Minerva changed back into her human form and approached the classroom. Peering through the doorway she could see Severus standing in the area behind the desk and blackboard that was reserved for the Potions Master's own activities. From the series of quick thuds, he appeared to be chopping something.
Glancing at the blackboard as she approached his domain, she grimaced at the illustrations drawn there of the effects of a potion that carried out the threat Severus had made against Jenny Lovell's mouth.
"Good evening, Severus," she greeted, once he had placed the knife to one side. She sniffed. "That smells nicer than the things usually brewed down here."
Severus cast a black look over his shoulder, which forcibly reminded Minerva of what he had been like at eighteen. He swiftly looked back at what he was doing, quietly asking, "What do you want?"
"I came to see how you were."
"You came to see if the complaints the brats have been making are true."
Minerva pressed her lips together, eyes narrowing slightly as she considered her next words. Everything was a battle with Severus. She remembered one of the times she had given him a detention and how he had argued against it until she had lost her temper and shouted at him. She remembered the triumphant little smirk that had been on his face when she had told him what his punishment would be.
"I came," she finally said, "to see how you were faring. I remember what the first year teaching is like."
"I'm fine," Severus said, transferring what he had chopped up into a mortar and picking up a large pestle to grind it with.
"Are those irises?" Minerva asked, moving closer and examining the flowers that had escaped Severus' rough treatment. "No wonder it smells so good in here. What are you making?"
"Rat poison," Severus deadpanned. He abandoned his work and turned around to glare at her, his arms folded belligerently over his chest. "I said I'm fine," he snapped. "You've done your bit, so kindly leave me in peace."
Minerva met his glare, tipping her chin up slightly and unknowingly making the very expression she had used on him when he had been a student.
"The Quidditch season will be starting soon," she advised him, "care to place a bet on who will win the cup? I believe Gryffindor should do well."
If she had thought this appeal to his competitive streak would win Severus over, she was sadly mistaken.
She had been foolish to suppose that coming and talking with him would make him open up to her. While he had allowed her to take care of him the day he had arrived back at Hogwarts, he had never thanked her, and she suspected that his memory of that day was probably clouded by whatever had reduced him to that state in the first place. No connection had been made between the two of them, and it seemed that Severus was very little changed from how he had been as a child. He was in fact still a child, and resolving to treat him as he deserved, she left Severus alone to sulk.
*****
It had been an eventful and tragic year involving the deaths of too many young men and women. James and Lily Potter had been the final two names on a long list of Voldemort's victims, and while he was gone for now, Minerva couldn't help fearing what was on Dumbledore's mind that he was not sharing with the rest of the Order.
Slipping back onto Hogwarts' ground after having seen young Harry Potter given into the care of his aunt, Minerva decided that she needed a roam. With too many questions burning in her brain for her to resist the temptation to escape it all, she shifted into her Animagus form and streaked across the lawn, relieving herself of some of her nervous energy.
She took a long and circuitous route towards the castle, relaxing into the simplicity of the feline world. Deciding to pass the flower beds near the greenhouses, Minerva leapt up onto the dais of one of the statues that lined the courtyard she had been crossing, and from there gained top of a nearby wall. Following its run, she jumped across a gap between it and the walled garden where many of the medicinal herbs were grown for stocking the infirmary. Dropping down amongst the plants, she pushed her way through the green enjoying the explosion of scents and feeling some of the heavy sadness lift from her. Despite the deaths, Voldemort was now gone and life still went on.
Her calmer thoughts were disturbed by a harsh sound that shivered through her. It sounded like the cry of a wounded animal, and bounding forward she sought out the source of the noise. Bursting free of the flower beds, she checked herself, stopping suddenly at the sight of Severus Snape huddled on a stone ledge, his body bent over his knees, and his hands making fists in his hair. When he let out another anguished shout she knew that he had been who she had heard, and she cautiously padded forward, unsure of whether she should go back the way she had came or offer some sort of comfort.
It was only when she was standing a few feet in front of him that she remembered that she still appeared as a cat, but changing form now seemed wrong, as though approaching in animal form was somehow less intrusive.
The startling cries had quietened now to sobs, and the hands which had been tugging at his hair dropped helplessly to his sides. Minerva moved cautiously closer, wondering if he had realised that she was there. She stopped right beside his feet and peered up at him, her curious gaze returned by feverish black eyes.
He had to recognise her, she thought. He had seen her transform too many times for him not to know that it was her. However, to her surprise and also to her relief, he reached out and carefully picked her up. She watched him brush a hand impatiently over his face, while the other held her against his chest. Tears wiped away, he awkwardly began stroking her fur, the clumsy motion becoming gentler as Minerva purred in encouragement.
She didn't know how long they sat there together, time becoming muddled in Minerva's head as she let go of everything except the comfort she was both giving and receiving. However, when she came back to herself she was in human form, the sky was darkening, and Severus was asleep with his head resting against her thigh.
Disconcerted, Minerva tentatively brushed Severus' hair away from his face, remembering how she had looked after him when he had first returned to Hogwarts: his face had been similarly haggard at that time.
Severus stirred, wearily pushing himself up, groggily holding a hand to his head while Minerva watched him and waited for his angry response to her presence. No such rejection came, and when he lowered his hand, he merely gazed at Minerva, his expression devoid of any identifiable emotion.
However, while his expression was blank, Minerva, perhaps still too close to her animal instinct, could still sense the well of sadness inside him, and impulsively she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him.
She knew she had done the right thing when he clung back.
*****
Severus was drinking heavily. Drinking heavily and snapping at anybody who dared to come near him. There were rumours passing amongst some of the staff that Severus' name had been mentioned in a recent trial of a known Death Eater. What had been said of him was unknown, but the whispers and the looks and the way Severus recklessly drained yet another glass of whiskey made Minerva's patience snap.
Striding across Dumbledore's office, in which the staff had assembled for the Christmas get together, she stopped Severus' hand in the act of reaching for another drink, and tugging on said hand, dragged him out of the room.
He was unresisting, and she realised just how drunk he was when on the spiral staircase he threw his arms around her and clumsily head butted her in an attempt to kiss her.
"Stop it right now, young man!" she snapped at him.
"Or what?" he slurred. "You'll give me detention, Professor?"
Minerva glared at him. He was leaning heavily against the wall and looked very young. She knew that he had suffered something terrible in last few months, having witnessed moments of vulnerability in him when he had been unable to keep the hurt hidden, but he was a fool if he thought drinking was the answer.
Slowly running her gaze down, and then back up his lanky frame she wondered if he would accept a different form of solace. He had accepted physical comfort from her in the past, would he reject an offer of something more? She did not love him, but she liked him for some reason, and she was not averse to sharing her body with men she liked. It had been a while since her last lover, and it had been a hard few months for herself, too.
Finally she nodded, gripping Severus' chin tightly to gain his attention. "Detention," she told him firmly. "Now. In my chambers"
With that she turned away and strode off. It was his decision whether he decided to follow.
She left the door open behind her once she had reached her rooms, and went straight to the bathroom for the spare bottle of Pepperup she kept there. It wouldn't purge the alcohol from his system, but it would clear Severus' head.
Walking back into her main chamber she found that the door was now shut, and Severus had collapsed in one of the chairs in front of the fire.
"Here," she said, pressing the open bottle into his hand.
He squinted at it, and then knocked it back, slamming the empty bottle heavily on the table between the two armchairs. Minerva placed two brandies next to it and settled in the other chair.
"How do you feel?"
"Too sober," Severus responded.
"I wanted you to have your wits about you, at least for as long as it takes for me to make my offer."
Severus had taken one of the brandies, but he paused in the action of raising the glass to his lips. "What offer?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. A horrible smirk curled his lips. "Don't tell me the offer of detention was genuine?"
Minerva knew that he had been trying to shock her with the comment; instead she shocked him by merely smiling and taking a sip of the warming alcohol.
Severus hesitated and then knocked back the brandy much as he had the Pepperup. When he had placed the glass back on the table, more carefully than he had the bottle, he licked his lips, before venturing, "I am not so desperate as to turn to a woman more than twice my age."
Minerva chuckled and stood up. "Do I really look so old?" she asked, taking a few steps towards the bed. Watching Severus' reaction she wondered how much of him was still the boy he currently looked, nervously licking his lips again, eyes darting from her body to the floor and back again.
"No... You don't look as old as you are..."
The verbal prevarications came to an abrupt end as Minerva began unbuttoning her tartan robes.
*****
In one hand Minerva held the base of Severus' cock, while with the other she gently cupped his testicles, fingers lightly brushing at the hair in which they were nestled. However, as she slid her lips further down his shaft, rubbing her tongue along the thick vein running down it, she dropped her hand from his balls and began pressing her fingers against his perineum instead. The resulting catch of his breath and helpless moan encouraged her and she slid her fingers lower, gently toying with the rim of his arsehole.
The convulsive twitch made her brace for a violent reaction, but there was none, just a louder groan and Severus' thighs fell further apart. Pleasantly surprised, and not wanting to waste his submission, she withdrew her mouth from his cock and used the saliva from her watering mouth to wet her fingers before pressing a moistened digit more firmly against his hole.
She tightened her grip on the base of his cock as she worked the finger in with a practised circle-then-push motion. His legs were bent now, feet flat against the mattress, knees fallen outwards. His feet moved restlessly against the sheets as she pushed a second finger into him, and she nuzzled the fur on his belly comfortingly. Still, despite the note of pain in his louder cries, the excitement was still trembling in his voice and he made no move to push her off him.
It had been an age since Minerva had taken a man so innocently confident to her bed, and she relished the fact that she was the one teaching Severus the pleasures his body could offer him.
She was pumping two fingers comfortably inside him now, and she began mirroring the rhythm with the hand gripping his cock. She loved how vocal he was, and again couldn't believe her luck in having grasped this unspoilt boy. He had no pretensions to live up to and because of it he was generous with his reactions to her touch, his legs trembling with the effort of remaining still, while his arms did the thrashing that his lower body was denied. Minerva smiled at the thin lips that were now flushed pink with the excited blood coursing through his body, parted to emit another bellow as she crooked her fingers within him, rubbing them mercilessly against the pleasure point within him. His pale skinny chest with its smattering of hair was now blotchy with the flush of pleasure. Lowering her head, Minerva licked the tip of his cock and then sealed her lips around it for one last plunge and press which sent Severus over the top and flooded her mouth with the warm, salty reward for her efforts.
She licked him clean leisurely, still enjoying the taste and texture of his flesh, and then kissed her way back up to his face, her hands brushing across his skin as though she were soothing a frightened animal. She was surprised when a hand suddenly gripped her shoulder, and gazed down into the dark eyes that were regarding her. For a moment she thought he was angry, and then his eyelids drooped giving him the satiated look she had been expecting. The hand on her shoulder slid up into her hair and pulled out the pins that had been keeping it in place. Minerva chuckled at the thought that she had been so eager to sample Severus that she had done so with her hair still up in its teacher's bun. Her hair tumbled down her back now, and Severus slid his arm further around her back and drew her down towards him.
The kiss was oddly chaste after what they had just done, but Minerva suspected that this was as much a first for Severus as that had been. She let him lead, responding when he did something she enjoyed, letting him feel his way. His hands slid down her back and over her buttocks, his large hands splaying over them and squeezing experimentally. She rewarded him by licking along his lower lip, and being the quick student he was, the kiss soon deepened, Severus' tongue winding around her own while his hands gripped her more tightly against him. With her eyes closed and her body pressed firmly against Severus', Minerva could feel the passion that she had suspected lay behind all the anger and grief.
Following an instinctive rhythm, the kiss quietened again, and Minerva realised that she had been pressing her groin against Severus' hips in her excitement. She smiled at Severus, whose eyes looked curious again, and then rolled off him to lie back against the pillows on the undisturbed side of the double bed. Severus rolled onto his side to watch her, a frown developing when he saw her cast a cleansing charm on her hands. He didn't say anything, though, just kept watching as Minerva slid her hands down her body, one squeezing her breast, while the other delved lower.
She was wet and wanting, and it was tempting just to pleasure herself right there and then. However, a touch on her cheek made her open her eyes and look at Severus again. His kiss this time was more confident, immediately going after what he wanted and Minerva decided that if she was going to teach him this lesson, she was going to do it as thoroughly as she taught any of her students.
Taking his hand, she kissed the knuckles of it, before guiding it down between her thighs. She pinched his forefinger between two of her own fingers and rubbed it along her wet slit. He let out a shuddering breath and scooted closer to her, his naked flesh pressing against hers as he eagerly followed her silent instructions. He was a fast learner and Minerva's eyes closed as he slid his fingers inside her, his thumb rubbing in firm but gentle circles against her clit. Letting go of his hand completely, she let herself relax into his increasingly confident rhythm, and when his long hair brushed over her chest she let out a long encouraging sigh, and arched her back lifting her breasts up to meet the first tentative lick.
She had shuddered in climax once, brought there by the mouth on her breasts and the fingers inside her, when Severus finally made the move she had been expecting him to make all evening. She broke free of another of his fierce kisses, and gasped, "Wait," reaching for a wand again.
She was glad that she caught the look on his face, and to disillusion him of the rejection he had expected, she brushed her fingers gently along his jaw.
"Listen," she whispered, and cast the charm that would prevent pregnancy and disease. "Always use it," she warned him, and he nodded and kissed her cheek as though he was thanking her.
Wand discarded once more, Minerva let Severus settle between her thighs. His weight on her was not as heavy as she would have liked, and as he nervously pushed inside of her, she realised that there were going to be bruises on her thighs in the morning from his bony hips, but the stretching, full sensation building inside her was perfect.
She squeezed at his buttocks, pushing and pulling him into the right position, demanding that he circle his hips occasionally to screw her just right. Finally, he understood and with a suddenness that drew a gasp from both their lips, he was slammed in to the hilt, and all Minerva's control melted away as they bucked against one another in an instinctual frenzy of lust and pleasure.
*****
Waking up the next morning, Minerva was unsurprised to see that Severus had left. She had expected him to avoid the awkward morning after, and shook her head at the thought that all men were the same in the end. She didn't mind, she had used and shown him the prophylactic charm because she had known that it would be a one time affair. Hopefully when she met him next, he would realise by her manner that nothing more was expected from him and he could remember the night before with the same fondness it already held in her own heart.
She got up and showered, and tutted over the bruises he had left on her body. Walking back into the bedroom, wrapped in her tartan dressing gown, she spotted something on the low coffee table, next to the empty glasses they had left from their nightcap. She was surprised to realise that it was a small bunch of flowers, and when she moved closer and saw that the purple flowers were irises she bit her lip to contain the unexpected joy.
Lifting the flowers, she found a slip of parchment underneath them, written upon which was a simple message: "Ten galleons on Slytherin."
Sniffing at the flowers and allowing herself a wide smile, Minerva looked forward to showing Severus Snape just what Gryffindors were made of.
The End
Stocking Filler: The Duellist's Code
"It was in 1642 that the first formal set of rules was recorded by Horatio Cultarde. It was not until 1778 that anybody had the audacity to revise it, and such was the respect for the Cultarde original that the revision cannot be firmly attributed to any one author.
The 1778 code was completed by two additional articles added in 1802 - often referred to as the Durmstrang Articles due to the academy of origin - and it is this version to which duellists now adhere. However, most modern wizards do not recognise the blood bias written into these rules, and social change may bring about another revision of the Code within this generation."
Excerpt from A History of Honour by Professor Filius Flitwick and Sebastian Prince (2010)
The Duellist's Code
Rule 1 - The first offence requires the first apology, though the retort may have been more offensive than the insult. The only exception to this being if a verbal offence is replied to with a hex: in such cases the resort to magic is considered more serious than the slander.
Rule 2 - If a doubt exists as to who gave the first offence, the decision rests with the Seconds.
Rule 3 - If the Seconds will not decide or cannot agree who gave the first offence, the matter must proceed to two casts, or to a hit if the Challenger requires it.
Rule 4 - When a direct lie is the first offence, the Challenged must either beg pardon in express terms, exchange two casts previous to apology, or the duel will continue till a severe hit be received by one party or the other.
Rule 5 - Once defeated the Challenged can never revive the quarrel, but the Challenger may.
Rule 6 - Seconds are to be of equal power to the Principals they attend, inasmuch as a Second may either choose or chance to become a Principal and equality is indispensable. No matter the relation of the Principal to the Second, under no circumstances may a Squib act as Second, nor should any proud Pureblood accept the challenge of a Squib.
Rule 7 - The ground should be protected by a Circle if there is any chance that Muggles may detect the intended action.
Rule 8 - Casting may be regulated, first by signal; secondly, by word of command; or thirdly, at will - as may be agreeable to the parties.
Rule 9 - Seconds are bound to attempt reconciliation before the meeting takes place, or after sufficient casting or hits, as specified.
Rule 10 - No dumb casting or casting into the air is admissible in any case. The Challenger ought not to have challenged without receiving offence, and the Challenged ought, if he gave offence, to have made an apology before he came on the ground; therefore children's play is dishonourable on either side, and is accordingly prohibited.
Rule 11 - The Challenged chooses his ground, the Challenger chooses his distance; the Seconds fix the time and terms of casting.
Rule 12 - Any wound sufficient to agitate the nerves and make the hand shake, or to prevent normal incantation, must end the business for that day.
Rule 13 - Any insult to a person under a wizard's care or protection is to be considered as, by one degree, a greater offence than if given to the wizard personally, and to be regulated accordingly. The exception to this rule being if said ward be a Squib or Muggle, in which case the purity of the blood of the Challenger will determine whether the Challenged gave insult or not.
Rule 14 - As a physical blow is strictly prohibited under any circumstances amongst civilised wizards, no verbal apology can be received for such an insult. The duel will therefore continue until one is well blooded, disabled, or disarmed.
Rule 15 - No apology can be received in any case after the parties have actually taken their ground without exchange of magic first.
Rule 16 - If the cause of meeting be of such a nature that no apology or explanation can or will be received, the Challenged takes his ground and calls on the Challenger to proceed as he chooses. In such cases casting at pleasure is the usual practice, but may be varied by agreement.
Rule 17 - Challenges are never to be delivered at night, unless the party to be challenged intends leaving the place of offence before morning; for it is desirable to avoid all hot-headed proceedings.
Rule 18 - Where the Seconds disagree and resolve to exchange shots themselves, it must be at the same time and at right angles with their Principals. A Circle should be cast to separate the Principals from the Seconds to protect from wayward jinxes.
Rule 19 - In the case the Challenged be disarmed and refuses to ask pardon or atone, he must not be killed, as in former days; but the Challenger may lay his own wand on the Challenged's shoulder, then break the Challenged's wand, and say," I spare your life!"
Rule 20 - All matters and doubts not herein mentioned will be explained and cleared up by application to a committee of respected wizards of pure blood and of age no younger than fifty years.
Additional Article 1 - No Party can be allowed to bend his knee or cover his side with a shielding charm; but may present at any level from the hip to the eye.
Additional Article 2 - None can either advance or retreat if the ground be measured. If no ground be measured, either party may advance at his pleasure, even to the touch of wands.