impure | lorenzo berkshire.

0.1 || dueling and alihotsy

alethea madeira
Thud.

That's the sound my brother's body makes when he hits the ground after I've successfully landed a blow on him for the fifth time in a row. Of course, we're not fighting hand-to-hand, we're dueling - something Aunt Macie is sure will come in handy these next few years to come. We're not allowed to practice magic outside school, everyone knows that. It's a good thing my aunt works directly under Cornelius Fudge, I guess. That, and a years-old charm protecting the entire Madeira Manor which seems to be our shield against the Ministry finding out.

Atticus manages to bring himself back up, fixing his shirt and raising his wand once again. I hear the beginning of a spell try to leave his mouth.

"Rictusem-" he attempts, but I cut him off. So predictable.

"Protego!" I shout, flicking my wand at him. This causes him to fly backwards once again, and this time I can't help but let a little chuckle escape my lips.

Thud.

Every time he falls to the ground, I find it even more amusing than the last time. It's just so dramatic, so extra. Such an Atticus fashion.

"You've got to be quicker than that," I taunt, standing over him. This time, I decide to be nice and extend my hand so that I can help him up. Instead of taking my generous offer, my brother swats me to the side and props himself up into a sitting position. I crouch down so that I'm on his level.

"How is it that you're two years younger than me but you duel like you're ten years older?" he pants, his arms resting on his knees. I simply shrug in response.

"How is it that you haven't realised just how predictable you are?" I query. "Honestly, brother. I say we get you to start practising nonverbal spells." I extend my hand once again. "Come on, we could probably get another few rounds in before it's time to get ready." My older brother reluctantly grabs my hand and I help him up.

I look at the oversized clock near the entrance to the ballroom in which we're dueling. The hour hand's at 3 and the minute is somewhere in between 9 and 10. We've still got time, I think to myself. We've got to start getting ready for an engagement party that at the Parkinson Manor at around 5, but knowing me and my brother, we'd both need about an hour.

Atticus seems to notice I'm distracted, so he decides to throw a spell at me. Though my attention is hardly there and even Atticus can see that, I manage to duck. I cast a nonverbal Stupefy charm at him and he falls to the ground once more.

Thud.

Atticus winces as he takes a little longer to sit up. I let out another chuckle, this one louder than the last.

"Can we be done now?" he groans. "I'd like to still have the ability to walk tonight."

"Aw, you tired already?" I tease. Atticus shoots me a glare. "Only kidding."

"Yeah, right." He finally sits up, grasping at his side. "Sometimes I think you actually enjoy inflicting pain on others. On me, to be specific."

"That's because I do," I beam cheerfully. "Only on you, though." I stride over to where he's sitting, give him a quick pat on the shoulder, and then make my way to the exit doors. As I exit into the lounge, I hear my brother groan and let himself back down onto the floor.

Thud. Except this time, it was softer. I giggle as I turn into the main hall. Something about the melodramatic sound of my brother hitting the ground just never fails to put a smile on my face.

I make my way to the staircase, and trudge up the remarkably steep main staircase which spirals up all six floors to the third floor, where most all the bedrooms are located. I hear giggling coming from the third door down the hall: my bedroom. Of course those idiots are already here.