The Quidditch pitch buzzed with excitement.
The observation towers, adorned with the colours and emblems of the houses, surrounded the pitch, staggered between one another.
On the ground level, connecting the towers, there was another viewing area for those who had not managed to secure a spot in the stands.
[img]
In one of the Ravenclaw towers.
Seated among the students was Extimum, and beside him were Steve, Mitchell, Trudor, Padma, Luna, and, of course, Bloom.
Steve: "Alright, listen up—I'm betting two photos from my secret collection and three Galleons that Slytherin wins. Who's in?" Steve stood up from his seat and positioned himself in front of them as he spoke.
Trudor: "And what exactly are these photos of…?"
Mitchell: "Do you seriously need to ask? It's bound to be some shady nonsense Steve's involved in. I'm telling you, you can't be up to anything good if you've been chased by all the first-year girls at least twice in a single year."
Padma: "Now that you mention it, I heard some girls saying Steve had stolen—" Padma couldn't continue, as Steve quickly stepped forward and covered her mouth with his hand.
Steve: "Shhh, don't believe the things those girls say, they just make up rumours. Ahem—anyway, as I was saying, anyone want in on the bet?"
Trudor: "I am curious about what they are, but it's obvious Slytherin will win. With the brooms Draco's father donated to the team, they've got a massive advantage."
Luna: "I think Gryffindor can still win."
Steve: "So, are you betting?"
Luna: "I only have some sweets… would that interest you?" She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a few candies, showing them to Steve.
She hadn't brought any money to Hogwarts.
Steve: "Hmph, then no."
Luna: "But Extimum can, right?" she said, looking at him as she gently tugged at the sleeve of his robes.
The slight pull snapped Extimum out of his thoughts. He had been constructing a hypothetical rune framework in his mind for a pair of magical gloves.
Noticing that everyone was looking at him, he quickly reorganised his thoughts, retrieving what his mind had subconsciously registered while distracted, immediately understanding why they were staring.
It was an ability he had only discovered a few days ago, after making progress in his Occlumency. It had its limits—five hours at most—but he could retrieve data from his subconscious.
He cast Luna a brief glance, which she returned with an expectant look.
Somehow, she had grown quite close to him over the past few days. He wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, though he supposed it had something to do with him being the one who invited her into the group. Not that he minded.
Extimum: "Sounds fine to me. I'll bet five Galleons that Gryffindor wins."
Steve: "Haha, that's the spirit—no fear of losing, excellent, Luna." Steve gave Luna a thumbs-up for helping him reel in the big fish.
Bloom: 'Heh, now we'll finally find out what kind of suspicious things that fatty's been up to.' Bloom had already learned from Extimum that Gryffindor would win this first match, though he hadn't explained how he knew; there was no need to, and she trusted his word.
Extimum: 'You're right—Steve is always far too suspicious.'
Extimum continued thinking about his magical gloves for a while longer as he waited for the match to begin.
The idea revolved around a pair of gloves capable of reducing the weight of anything they came into contact with. They would be somewhat similar to strength-enhancing gloves, except that, in reality, they would simply lessen the weight of the object being handled.
Although wizards could use spells to levitate or shrink objects, they still preferred to perform certain tasks manually. Moreover, these gloves could function as long as the user possessed magical blood, meaning that Squibs or other magical creatures unable to cast spells could still make use of them.
They would be especially useful for carrying out heavy labour efficiently, particularly for Squibs such as Filch, who had to perform demanding cleaning duties and other tasks without magic.
…
???: "Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the first Quidditch match for the Hogwarts inter-house cup."
"Today, we have Slytherin"—** cheers **
"Versus Gryffindor"—** cheers **
"And now, let the teams take the field."
More cheers filled the pitch as the members of both teams entered on their brooms.
The commentator also took the opportunity to wipe some sweat from his forehead. He was somewhat nervous, as this was his first time acting as commentator—a role chosen from among the students.
Shortly after the introduction, Madam Hooch stepped onto the pitch, gathering the captains, who, after exchanging greetings, returned to their teams and kicked off into the air on their brooms.
Once everyone was in position, the whistle blew, and the match began.
** fuushhh **
It started quite well, with the Gryffindor players showing solid coordination and strategy, allowing them to gain some ground early on. They were fairly agile; however, their strategy did not hold for long.
The Slytherin players were much faster and quickly overwhelmed Gryffindor. The speed of their brooms granted them a clear advantage; furthermore, at one point during the match, one of the Bludgers went rogue and began relentlessly pursuing Harry.
Leaving Fred and George with no choice but to focus entirely on protecting him from being struck. However, by concentrating on him, they stopped defending the other players from the second Bludger, making things far more difficult for the rest of the team.
** fuushhh ** ** fuushhh ** ** fuushhh **
The tension and adrenaline on the pitch were palpable to the spectators, who rose from their seats, booing and cheering with every hit, dodge, and the constant back-and-forth of the balls cutting through the air.
It didn't take Harry long to realise that he was dragging his team down, so he chose to break away from Fred and George, signalling for them to leave him on his own.
Completely focused, he flew from one point to another, zigzagging and looping, making full use of his surroundings. Despite the danger chasing at his heels, his sharp gaze scanned in every direction, searching for the Golden Snitch.
Trudor: "This is too much—Slytherin not only has better brooms, they've even tampered with that Bludger."
Mitchell: "I think you're going to lose, Extimum. The odds were already against Gryffindor before, but now…"
Extimum: "It's still too early to say," he replied, his eyes following the Golden Snitch, which neither Seeker had managed to spot so far.
Steve: "Heh, I can already feel the weight of those Galleons in my pocket."
** fuushhh ** ** fuushhh **
Harry continued dodging the Bludger until, after several sharp turns, he managed to lose it for a moment, gaining just enough space to search for the Snitch.
It didn't take long to appear.
A golden glint flashed across his field of vision, just behind Draco, who had descended merely to mock him. But the brief respite ended instantly when the Bludger returned, tearing between them at full speed and forcing them apart.
That moment was enough.
Draco had seen it too.
Both of them shot after it without hesitation, beginning a tight pursuit as the rogue Bludger resumed chasing them.
From the stands, Extimum lost sight of the scene as the three of them descended toward a lower section of the stadium.
Only a few seconds later, they reappeared further ahead.
But something was wrong.
Draco lost control of his broom.
His body tilted dangerously before he was thrown off, falling in a direct trajectory toward the ground.
Extimum reacted instantly.
He pulled out his wand and, focusing, attempted to slow the fall.
It took some effort.
Slowing a moving object at that distance was nothing like what he had done to himself in the past. And without the use of Arresto Momentum, the strain fell entirely on his own magical control.
Even so, it worked.
Draco's fall slowed enough for him to land roughly, rather than in the dangerous posture he had been in—one that would have almost guaranteed a far worse impact, straight onto the family jewels.
On the other hand, Harry did not stop.
He kept chasing the Snitch.
He was close.
Too close.
And that was when the Bludger hit him.
The impact was sharp.
It struck his outstretched arm directly, breaking the bone on the spot.
But Harry didn't stop.
With his face contorted in pain, he adjusted his grip and, in a final effort, lunged forward, extending his other arm.
His fingers closed.
The Snitch was caught.
But his body couldn't hold on.
He lost control of his broom and slipped from it, left half-hanging as he was dragged along the ground until he finally came to a stop. Fortunately, he had been flying low enough to avoid something worse.
???: "Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch—Gryffindor wins!"
** cheers **
Trudor: "I suppose the weight you were feeling in your pocket was your Galleons disappearing, wouldn't you say, Steve?"
Steve: "Hmph, let's just go check on Harry."
Extimum: "I doubt you're carrying those photos with you, so you can hand them over once we're back in the common room."
Steve: "Grr… fine."
They all stood up and began heading down the stairs to go see Harry.
Extimum intended to follow them as well, but—
Bloom: 'Wait, I want to try something…'
They descended, though in a far more direct—and rather unusual—way.
Bloom grabbed hold of his robes and carried him down through the air toward the pitch.
Despite her small size, she possessed enough strength to carry two grown people without issue (150 kg), so the descent was steady—almost slow.
It had been her idea.
Not a particularly practical method of transport, but certainly useful for cushioning falls.
…
Upon landing on the pitch, Extimum was among the first to arrive beside an injured Harry.
Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid were already there, having been in the lower sections and thus not needing to descend from the towers. Hermione had even managed to break the enchantment affecting the Bludger, which had still been trying to attack Harry even while he was on the ground.
Not long after, a crowd began to gather around them.
Many cast surprised looks toward Extimum and, especially, toward Bloom. They hadn't expected a fairy to possess such strength. Some even thought she might be one of the strange inventions rumoured to be created by Extimum.
Hermione: "Are you alright, Harry?"
Harry: "Ugh… no, I think I've broken my arm."
Extimum was about to cast Ferula—a spell used to splint broken bones—when Lockhart stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop.
Lockhart: "No need to worry, I'll have your arm fixed in no time."
Harry: "No, not you." Panic was clearly visible on Harry's face as he heard Lockhart speak.
Extimum: "It would be better if I handled it. I've been studying healing magic with Madam Pomfrey these past months."
Harry: "Yes— you do it."
Lockhart: "Haha, poor boy, you don't understand what you're saying—you're still far too young. I, on the other hand, am quite the expert in this matter." Lockhart rolled up the sleeves of his jade-green robes and prepared to cast the spell.
Harry: "No… no!" His voice came out weak, laced with pain.
Despite Harry's clear refusal, most people trusted Lockhart more, given that he was a professor. Besides, he didn't seem inclined to listen.
He acted immediately.
Lockhart: "Now then, this won't hurt a bit. Brackium Emendo."
Extimum could have stopped him.
But he didn't.
Although Harry would suffer a little, Lockhart was only digging his own grave.
And he was getting closer to falling into it with every passing moment.
Lockhart took hold of Harry's arm with a confident smile.
Then—
A wet sound was heard.
Strange.
Squelchy.
Bloom: 'Ah… that's unpleasant.'
Lockhart: "Yes… well, this does happen sometimes. But the important thing is that the bones are no longer broken."
Extimum: "Useless". He muttered under his breath.
The silence that followed made several people catch the remark.
Some couldn't help but smile, holding back their laughter.
Hermione, on the other hand, frowned, clearly uncomfortable with him insulting a professor. However, a slightly displeased glance from Extimum was enough to make her avert her gaze toward Harry's arm, now completely limp.
Hagrid: "But there are no bones left."
Hagrid's tone was anything but calm.
Not just because of the current situation.
Days before the start of term, Lockhart had visited him, talking non-stop while attempting to teach him how to care for magical creatures.
To him? Someone who had practically dedicated his entire life to it?
Hagrid wasn't arrogant. He was always willing to learn.
But that had been different. Not even all his patience had been enough to endure it.
Everything that came out of Lockhart's mouth had been nothing but nonsense. He had felt insulted—both personally and professionally.
And so now, he made no effort whatsoever to hide his displeasure.
Lockhart: "But it's far more flexible now. Right then—Mr Weasley, Mr Enoch, why don't you help Harry to the hospital wing?"
Lockhart completely ignored the earlier comment and carried on as if nothing had happened.
Extimum cast a few minor spells over Harry's scrapes and, together with Ron, helped him to his feet.
Brackium Emendo could have repaired his bones, but the proper procedure would have been to splint the arm first before casting the spell. Besides, it was clear that Lockhart had performed it disastrously wrong, ending up removing the bones entirely instead of repairing them.
The whole situation could have been resolved with two spells and a proper understanding of skeletal structure.
Without the sharp pain from before, Harry was able to walk on his own, though the sensation in his arm remained… unpleasant. He didn't even want to look at it.
Steve, Trudor, Mitchell, and Luna had already arrived, though they kept some distance. Seeing—and hearing—about the state of Harry's arm wasn't exactly pleasant.
Extimum: "You all go on ahead. I'll take Harry to the hospital wing. Steve, don't forget to prepare my winnings."
With that, Extimum left alongside the Gryffindor group.
Extimum: "Don't worry—you won't lose your arm. There's a special medicine that can regrow bones," he said, noticing the concern on Harry's face.
.
The next day, all the students woke to news delivered by their Heads of House.
A Gryffindor student, Colin Creevey, had been petrified.
The flames of rumours and gossip reignited, but this time they carried a far more tangible unease. It wasn't the same to petrify a cat as it was a student.
The news spread through every common room, quickly becoming the main topic of conversation in the Great Hall during breakfast.
From the Slytherin table, Extimum listened to much of the discussion around him.
Unlike the other houses, the Slytherins seemed less affected. Most of them were pure-bloods—or at least believed themselves to be—and felt a certain sense of security for belonging to that house.
Even so, the matter still generated some tension among them.
As he observed and listened, Draco and the others arrived at the table and took their seats.
Extimum: "Good morning."
Draco: "Good morning, Extimum. Thank you for yesterday—it could have ended far worse if it hadn't been for you."
Extimum: "Always a pleasure to help."
Pansy: "Did you hear what the Heads of House said? The Mudbloods are already starting to be cleaned out."
Daphne: "Hmph, watch your words, Pansy." Daphne cut in with irritation, while comforting Tracey, who was clearly nervous.
Though she came from a magical family, Tracey was a half-blood, so the comment had not sat well with her at all.
Pansy: "Oh, Tracey, I didn't mean you. You're in Slytherin, and you come from a magical family."
Half-bloods could also be considered Mudbloods, but those with magical ancestry were viewed more favourably than Muggle-borns. A clear example was Harry Potter, the son of a pure-blood and a Muggle-born.
Extimum: "You don't need to worry so much, Tracey. I'm sure they'll sort it out. Besides, as Pansy says, you're in Slytherin, so the Heir of Slytherin won't target you."
Tracey: "Do you really think so?" she asked, clearly uncertain.
Extimum: "Of course."
Extimum's words seemed to reassure her more than Daphne's attempts had.
Draco: "Changing the subject, Professor Snape told me Lockhart will be opening a duelling club next week. I imagine everyone will go—especially with all the fuss about the monster. I wonder if I'll get the chance to hit Potter."
Extimum: "Sounds interesting. I'll go."
Pansy: "Hmph, those Muggle-borns probably don't even know proper duelling etiquette."
…
They spoke of a few more things until breakfast came to an end.
Extimum had Charms with Hufflepuff, so he parted ways with them to catch up with Steve and the others. Steve still hadn't handed over his winnings from the bet.
As he was leaving the Great Hall, Luna caught up with him.
Luna: "Wait, Extimum."
Extimum: "Luna? Is something the matter?"
Luna: "I wanted to ask you something… have you been the one taking me back to my dormitory when I walk in my sleep?"
Extimum: "Oh, that. Yes, actually—the first time I saw you was when Bloom and I found you wandering the corridors."
Luna: "So it was you… thank you. Lately I've been sleeping much better, not walking all over the castle while I'm asleep."
Extimum: "It's nothing. It wouldn't be good for you to be wandering about at night. I still need to get to Charms—see you later."
Extimum had already turned to leave when Luna's voice stopped him again.
Luna: "By any chance… do you wear woollen gloves or something like that? It's just that—even though I was asleep—I felt as though something very soft had been holding me."
Luna raised a finger to her cheek, as if recalling the sensation.
Extimum: "You probably imagined it. You were asleep, after all," he replied casually, continuing on his way.
Luna: "Yes… it's just that I remember touching something really soft, fluffy, and warm… I've never felt anything like it before… but perhaps it was only a dream."
Bloom: 'Hehehe, you've been found out.'
Extimum: 'Of course not. I made sure she was asleep—at most, she'll only have hazy memories of it.'
Bloom: 'But I don't understand—why didn't you drink her blood? Wasn't it the perfect opportunity? You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot the last time you did it with Hermione.'
Extimum: 'It didn't seem appropriate… and no, Bloom, I don't go around biting just anyone when I get the chance.'
Bloom hadn't said that without reason.
On previous nights, Extimum had lightly bitten Luna.
Stopping her by force hadn't been practical. Even asleep, she resisted enough to make moving her difficult.
So he had opted for something simpler.
He would gently sink one of his fangs into her neck.
The effect was immediate.
Her body would relax. Her breathing would steady. And she would fall back into a deep sleep.
After that, carrying her back was simple.
Even so…
The temptation had been there. It would have taken only a small push.
But he didn't act on it.
As they disappeared through the doorway, Luna raised a hand to her neck, looking in the direction Extimum had gone.
'But it felt so real…'
She didn't have clear memories, but on some occasions she had felt a faint prick at her neck, followed by a warmth that pulled her back into sleep.
.
A week passed quickly, and today they would finally have their duelling class.
Harry had recovered from his arm just a day after the incident and had caused quite a stir alongside Hermione and Ron while attempting to steal ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion they were preparing.
Fortunately for them, although Snape had been furious, he ultimately hadn't managed to catch them.
Professor Flitwick also spent the week confirming who would be staying for Christmas. Extimum had initially planned to leave, but later decided there was nothing he particularly needed to do there, aside from visiting Snaglok.
As such, it wasn't worth returning; it would be better to remain here, where there were other acquaintances. For that reason, he sent Bloom via Floo, along with a suitcase containing his prototypes and a letter for Snaglok.
Bloom seemed quite excited about the idea of going back to Diagon Alley, and since she would only be going to Gringotts and returning, it would take her no more than a day.
It wasn't as though she was bored here. After all, aside from the Forbidden Forest, she had already visited nearly every part of the castle with Extimum.
Her routine consisted of going out with Extimum in the mornings around the castle grounds, enjoying generous meals at every sitting, listening in on classes, reading books, overhearing conversations from those around her, occasionally exploring the castle on her own, and flying out at night with Extimum.
Among the prototypes Extimum sent were: an upgrade for his house-redesign artefact; shoelaces that increased the wearer's lightness; gloves that reduced the weight of anything they touched while slightly enhancing strength; and a potion that cleansed and improved the quality of the skin.
They were only a few products, but not much time had passed since he had completed them. All of them were accompanied by a letter explaining their complications, in which he also instructed Snaglok on the next steps to take with each of them.
Extimum did not need to dominate a market that sold all manner of goods. He only needed to generate profit, build recognition for his brand within the magical community, and ultimately produce a definitive, entirely exclusive product that would place him at the top.
He already had an idea of what that product might be. It was an ambitious and revolutionary project for the magical world, but at present he lacked the ability to even create a prototype.
Perhaps by his fifth year, he would be able to do so.
The Ancient Runes professor did not like students learning runes without supervision and was unwilling to teach them until the third year.
Well, her caution was justified—he himself had already experienced that firsthand through some of his experiments.
Runes were a complex art, yet at the same time simple. If you understood them, then everything worked perfectly; if not, despite their inherent stability, a single misstep could cause an inscription to explode in your face.
It was best not to experiment recklessly.
Even so, the risks had not been without results: he had managed to discover certain combinations with unique effects and, based on his research, possibly unknown ones.
In short, it was a highly demanding branch of magic. It required knowing and memorising different runes, their uses and effects—not to mention their various linguistic origins and applied effectiveness.
This difficulty became especially evident when it came to writing them: words, characters, and symbols.
A good memory was not enough to inscribe them properly, and he only knew the most basic ones, which he had managed to combine with those he found in the family grimoire.
There were other methods, of course. In professional settings, special fountain pens were often used to assist in their inscription. At a certain level, it was even possible to trace them with a wand—or a finger.
But those seemed like crutches. Useful ones, certainly, but he preferred to master the fundamentals first. Once he could do so without them, it wouldn't be a bad idea to acquire one.
Then there was the matter of combining them.
Their ancient and ambiguous origins had led to many runic systems being incomplete or, quite simply, to their applications having clear biases rooted in their origins. As a result, rune masters were often forced to combine different systems and languages to diversify their work—a very common practice.
.
According to the notice posted a few days earlier, the duelling club would be held in the Great Hall at eight o'clock in the evening.
Although the idea sounded interesting, not that many people across Hogwarts were truly keen on attending.
The vast majority of students from magical families—especially the more traditional ones—had already received instruction from their own families on how to duel, as well as the proper etiquette. Others, on the other hand, simply had no interest in it.
After all, these were only duelling lessons, not real combat. And while duels in the wizarding world could be quite dangerous, Extimum doubted things would go that far in this club—and many others likely thought the same.
So, aside from Lockhart's admirers, it would mostly be first-years or people like Extimum, who were simply there for the entertainment.
Extimum spent the time after dinner chatting with Steve and the others before leaving the common room and heading to the Great Hall to attend the duelling club.
Upon entering the Great Hall, he noticed that it had been rearranged for the occasion.
The long dining tables had vanished, and in their place stood a raised golden platform, illuminated by floating lights similar to the Lumos charm. The ceiling, meanwhile, was completely black, devoid of its usual enchanted effect.
Students had gathered around the platform, wands in hand, waiting eagerly.
After finding a spot near the platform, Extimum waited for the event to begin, though it didn't take long before Lockhart could be seen striding onto the stage, dressed in attire reminiscent of a fencer, complete with a flowing cape.
Lockhart: "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Splendid! Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this modest duelling club, with the aim of preparing you all in case you ever find yourselves needing to defend yourselves—as I have on countless occasions. For further details, do consult my published works."
"Now then, allow me to introduce my assistant… Professor Snape." Lockhart gestured to the opposite end of the platform, where Snape was now stepping up.
"He has kindly agreed to help me with this demonstration. But do not worry—you will not be deprived of your Potions master after this display, so do not fret!" Lockhart added, giving a wink at the end.
Mitchell: "Yeah… I wasn't worried about him at all," Mitchell muttered under his breath.
Extimum remained silent, observing the situation unfold with clear amusement.
Lockhart and Snape faced one another and gave a formal bow. They then raised their wands in front of them like swords before turning and taking several steps apart to create distance.
Lockhart: "As you can see, we are holding our wands in the standard duelling position. When I count to three, we shall cast our first spells. But of course, neither of us has any intention of killing the other."
As Lockhart spoke, both he and Snape assumed their stances. Lockhart adopted a fencer's posture, while Snape took a more controlled stance—his wand arm raised, his other arm positioned to steady and guide his movements.
[img]
Lockhart: "One… two… and three."
Lockhart did not act immediately after finishing the count, seeming to hesitate for a moment—giving Snape the opportunity to strike first.
Snape: "Expelliarmus!"
Snape enunciated the spell clearly and deliberately, making it obvious that he intended for the audience to understand exactly what he had cast.
A jet of yellow light shot from his wand and struck Lockhart, sending him flying several feet backwards until he landed at the far end of the platform.
Steve: "Bloody hell, wipe that half-smirk off your face, Extimum—you're giving me chills."
Extimum: "Quite right, how disrespectful of you, Steve—to be getting chills when you ought to be concerned for the professor's well-being." Extimum rose to his feet, speaking in a dignified tone.
Luna: "Hehe."
Mitchell: "Exactly, Steve—we're all worried about Lockhart, and you're busy accusing Extimum. You're really sinking low."
Steve: "You lot… hmph."
Lockhart climbed back to his feet and briskly dusted himself off as though nothing had happened, walking back toward Snape.
Lockhart: "That was a Disarming Charm—as you can see, I have been deprived of my wand"—As Lockhart spoke, a girl hurried forward to return it to him —"ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, Professor Snape, an excellent idea to demonstrate it to the students. Though, if I may say so, it was rather obvious you were going to attack in that manner.
Had I wished to prevent it, I could have done so quite easily. However, I felt it would be more instructive to let them witness it."
Snape's expression darkened slightly at his words, though he replied with calm restraint.
"Perhaps it would be wiser to teach the students how to block hostile spells first, would it not, Professor Lockhart?"
Lockhart: "An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Now then, we shall divide you into pairs. Professor Snape, if you would be so kind as to assist me."
The two of them stepped down from the platform and moved into the crowd to arrange the pairs.
Extimum was paired with Daphne; Steve with Mitchell; Padma with Pansy; Harry with Draco, and so on.
Once the pairs had been formed, both professors returned to the platform.
Lockhart: "Face your partners and bow."
Extimum and Daphne gave each other a slight, dignified bow, maintaining steady eye contact as they naturally assumed well-practised stances.
Extimum adopted his standard combat stance, similar to Snape's, though with a few differences.
His right hand—typically used to wield his sword—remained closer to his body, palm open in a protective position. His left hand, meanwhile, was raised near head level, guarding while maintaining a favourable angle for attack. All the while, his body was held in a side-on stance.
In an actual duel, there might be slight variations, but this formed the basic foundation of his combat movement.
Daphne, on the other hand, held a far simpler stance: her wand raised at face level, her body angled sideways for quick evasion.
Lockhart: "Wands ready! When I count to three, cast your spells to disarm your opponent. Only to disarm—let's have no accidents. One… two… and… three!"
There was just one small issue with Lockhart's instructions.
Although the Disarming Charm was basic, not everyone present knew it—or could perform it properly. As a result, in practice, they would resort to any spell capable of achieving the same effect.
At Lockhart's signal, spells shot out in all directions across the hall.
Daphne: "Flipendo!"
Extimum: "Expelliarmus."
Daphne: "Expulso!"
Daphne showed no hesitation despite how easily Extimum deflected her first spell and pressed on without pause.
Extimum: "Expelliarmus—Everte Statum."
He redirected her spell and counterattacked while closing the distance between them.
Daphne: "Rictusempra!"
Daphne sidestepped and cast again.
Extimum tilted his head, narrowly avoiding the incoming spell as he cast his own at the same time.
Extimum: "Tarantallegra."
Daphne was struck, and her feet began to move uncontrollably. Even so, she managed to cast again.
Daphne: "Expulso!"
Extimum: "Expelliarmus."
Daphne: "Flipendo—Tarantallegra!"
Extimum dodged once more, twisting his body as he advanced rapidly toward her position.
Daphne's eyes narrowed slightly as she saw him closing in so quickly. She was just about to move her wand and cast another spell when she felt a sharp, pricking sensation at her neck.
The sudden feeling made her freeze, turning to look at its source.
Extimum's arm was already extended toward her, his nails lightly pressing against her neck.
She hadn't even seen when he reached her. Just a moment ago, he had still been at a distance—and now she found herself cornered.
Extimum: "You've lost."
He spoke calmly as he cancelled the spell still affecting her.
Daphne simply exhaled, relaxing her tense posture. She had felt the sharpness of his nails clearly—had it been a blade, she would already be dead.
Though she had lost, she did not feel particularly dissatisfied. Throughout the duel, Extimum had displayed far greater ease and control than she had. She hadn't managed to land a single hit.
Extimum: "You really do know how to defend yourself."
He praised her while glancing around at the other students, whose duels had become far more chaotic and far less decorous. Some had already abandoned any pretence of duelling altogether and were simply throwing punches.
Since they knew so few spells, many had ultimately resorted to using their fists. It was hardly considered proper for witches and wizards, but it was still a last resort.
Daphne: "Sigh. What are you talking about? You were far better."
Extimum: "True, but that doesn't diminish your ability. If you want a comparison... just look at everyone else. It's a disaster. Compared to them, you stand out by a mile."
Daphne glanced at the chaos unfolding around them and had to admit he was right.
The older students were engaged in organised, exciting duels, but among the first-years, nearly half had already abandoned spellcasting altogether or were repeatedly being struck down by their opponents' spells.
Lockhart: "Stop! That's enough!"
Seeing the utter chaos the practice had descended into, Lockhart decided to bring it to an end.
Meanwhile, Extimum approached the duel where Hermione and another girl—slightly sturdier in build—were still fighting.
From the looks of it, Hermione was losing, and not gracefully. The other girl had her firmly by the neck while the two wrestled on the floor, their wands lying some distance away.
Extimum cast a Rictusempra at the sturdier girl, who immediately released Hermione as laughter overtook her. He then helped Hermione back to her feet.
Hermione: "Ugh... thanks."
A short while later, Snape moved through the hall, cancelling the spells students had cast and were unable to undo themselves.
Lockhart: "I think it would be best if I taught you how to block unwanted spells."
Extimum: 'You don't say.'
Trudor: "Then why *uff * didn't you *uff * teach us that earlier?"
Trudor asked between gasps, sporting a fresh bruise on his face.
Lockhart: "I need a pair of volunteers... Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you two?"
Lockhart ignored the question entirely and continued.
Snape: "A poor choice, Professor Lockhart. Longbottom causes disasters with the simplest of spells. We'd be sending Finch-Fletchley to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox."
"What about Malfoy and Potter?"
Lockhart: "Excellent idea. Would you two kindly come up here?"
After being selected, Harry and Draco climbed onto the platform and positioned themselves several yards apart while Snape and Lockhart offered them a few instructions.
Extimum and the others gathered around the stage once more to watch the demonstration. He also checked on his friends, though very few had suffered any genuine injuries beyond bruises and exhaustion.
Steve: "Ugh, I want to die. It felt like everyone was against me today."
Steve complained pitifully as he rubbed his bruises.
Mitchell: "Oh, come off it. I didn't hit you that hard. Stop being such a cry-baby."
Pansy: "He's right. You should learn from your friend over there. She fought a second-year, and you don't hear her complaining."
Pansy mocked Steve while pointing at Luna.
Luna had been matched against a second-year boy, and it had not been a particularly favourable fight considering she knew, at most, two spells. Nevertheless, she had not lost too badly thanks to how well she could dodge.
Padma: "Yeah, you were amazing, Luna. I don't think I could've lasted that long against a second-year while still being a first-year."
Luna: "Thank you, though it was actually very tiring... and I still lost."
Lockhart: "Three, two, one... begin!"
A quick exchange followed between Harry and Draco, but Lockhart did not seem to have taught Harry any spell that could truly help him. As a result, the opening rounds were little more than a repeat of their previous duel.
Snape, however, appeared to have suggested something to Draco, who soon cast a new spell.
Draco: "Serpensortia!"
There was a burst of light at the tip of Draco's wand, and a long black snake shot from it. The creature landed between the two boys and immediately reared up, ready to strike.
Its sudden appearance startled the nearby students, causing them to retreat—everyone except Extimum, who now found himself curious whether he might be able to understand the snake, even if he could not speak to it.
Snape: "Don't move, Potter. I'll deal with it."
Snape seemed to take a certain satisfaction in Harry's predicament, but as the snake posed a genuine threat, he was obliged to intervene.
Before Snape could reach it, however, Lockhart acted first.
Lockhart: "Stand back! Alarte Ascendare!"
Lockhart pointed his wand at the snake, sending it soaring into the air. A moment later, it landed unharmed on the floor.
Extimum blinked faintly at Lockhart's actions. He could not understand what the man had been trying to accomplish. Even if his intention had been to move the snake away from the two boys, that hardly solved the problem.
The snake appeared to take offence at being treated that way. It looked around for someone to vent its anger on, fixing its attention on the surrounding students.
That only made the students panic even more, and they hurried backwards as the snake turned its gaze towards them.
Harry (Parseltongue): "Sss~Leave them alone. Don't attack them. Just calm down~sss."
(I'm not writing Parseltongue here, sorry.)(Me, thirteen chapters later: Guess I'm writing Parseltongue after all :v)
The snake then shifted its attention to the two people standing nearest to it: an unfortunate Hufflepuff, Finch-Fletchley... and, of course, Extimum, who had remained nearby, watching it with keen interest.
In truth, Extimum could not understand a thing. He did not know whether it was because this was an ordinary snake or simply because its hissing carried no meaning. Even so, his empathy allowed him to sense that it was furious, and he was able to grasp the intent behind Harry's words.
Steve: "Extimum, get away from the snake!"
Trudor: "Has he frozen in fear?"
Mitchell: "Don't be ridiculous. We're talking about Extimum."
Extimum simply continued watching as Harry's persistent hissing gradually soothed the snake. It shifted its focus away from the Hufflepuff boy and onto Extimum instead, as though it was reluctant to abandon its anger entirely.
Yet the instant the snake locked eyes with Extimum, it suddenly went completely still, almost as if hypnotised.
Then it slowly backed away without breaking eye contact before finally turning its attention back to Harry, who was still hissing at it.
The moment Snape saw the snake retreat, he acted.
Snape: "Vipera Evanesca."
Since Snape's spell was the proper countercurse to the Snake-Summoning Spell, the snake vanished in a shower of sparks.
Silence fell over the hall now that everything had settled down.
Every eye turned towards Harry, their expressions ranging from fear and anger to curiosity, calculation, and intrigue.
Finch-Fletchley: "What did you think you were playing at?"
Finch sounded both frightened and offended, believing Harry had been encouraging the snake rather than calming it.
Extimum: "Tch. What a bunch of irritating children."
With a subtle movement of his finger, Finch's shoelaces tied themselves into a tight knot.
The evening's spectacle had been thoroughly entertaining—except for Finch, whose ignorant accusation against the very person who had saved him had soured Extimum's mood.
Finch had barely reached the doors when he stumbled, pitching forward and landing face-first on the floor.
** Hahaha **
His fall drew laughter from the crowd, easing some of the lingering tension in the hall.
A few students briefly wondered whether Harry had done it, but he was still standing on the platform. There was no way he could have cast a spell without everyone noticing, so they dismissed the idea and assumed someone else was responsible.
Satisfied, Extimum turned to leave as well.
Pansy: "Blimey, Extimum, I didn't know you could be so mean."
Pansy gave him a proud pat on the shoulder as they walked out with the crowd.
Extimum: "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
He replied without the slightest change in expression.
Had Pansy not happened to notice the tiny movement of his finger, even she would never have believed he had anything to do with it.
Pansy: "Whatever you say. Oi, Longbottom!"
She paid no attention to his denial. Instead, she spotted Neville making his way through the crowd and hurried after him.
After leaving the Dueling Club, Extimum said goodbye to Daphne, Draco, and Tracey.
Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, hurried off with Harry to explain what had just happened.
Extimum did not follow them. Instead, he headed for Professor Flitwick's office to ask him to open the Floo Network so Bloom could return. They had arranged a specific time so neither of them would have to wait too long.
...
** Knock Knock **
Flitwick: "Come in."
Extimum: "Good evening, Professor Flitwick."
Flitwick: "Extimum, come in, come in. You're here so I can open the Floo Network, aren't you?"
Extimum: "That's right."
Flitwick: "Very well. Give me a moment to finish this, and I'll help you straight away. In the meantime, feel free to have a cake."
Flitwick said as he opened a drawer containing a box filled with little cakes.
Extimum: "Then I won't stand on ceremony."
Thanking him, Extimum helped himself to a few cakes while he waited.
Professor Flitwick's office was located on the seventh floor. It was not a particularly large room. Upon entering, the professor's desk stood directly ahead. To the right was a bookcase lined with volumes, while to the left a simple partition separated the office from his private quarters.
The room was decorated with several portraits and trophies. Behind the desk stood the fireplace that Flitwick used both to heat the office and to travel via the Floo Network.
At that moment, Professor Flitwick was seated in a large armchair, reviewing a stack of papers on his desk. The chair had a set of small steps attached so he could climb up and sit comfortably.
Flitwick: "There we are. Right then, let's allow your little friend to come back."
Jumping down from his armchair, Professor Flitwick landed on the floor with the ease of someone well practised. He then drew his wand and flicked it in a precise pattern, opening the fireplace grate and granting access to the Floo Network.
Extimum took out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was 9:38 p.m.
The Dueling Club had lasted only about an hour and a half, and Bloom was due to return at 9:40 p.m.
He had arranged for Snaglok to help her make the journey back safely, since Bob was not needed this time.
A few minutes later, the fireplace flared with green flames, and after a bright burst of fire, Bloom came drifting gently out. Professor Flitwick immediately sealed the fireplace again once she had emerged.
Flitwick: "Ah, the two of you really are punctual—not a minute late, either of you."
And he was right.
Even from this distance, Extimum could still sense his bond with Bloom. It was fainter than when they were both inside the castle, but it remained strong enough. Their messages took longer to reach one another, certainly, but they still did. Enough, at least, for him to have told her to get ready the moment he had left the Dueling Club.
Bloom flew straight over to Extimum and perched on his shoulder.
Extimum: "Thank you, Professor Flitwick. You've been a great help."
Flitwick: "Think nothing of it. You're an excellent student, so making a small exception and helping you with this is hardly any trouble."
Extimum: "Then I'll be off. Good night, Professor."
Flitwick: "Good night."
Extimum left Flitwick's office and made his way back towards the common room.
Bloom: 'Right then, tell me everything that happened.'
Extimum: 'Very well. The truly interesting part happened during the Dueling Club...'
Extimum recounted everything that had taken place that day.
Extimum: 'Oh, that's right. Did you arrange the things I asked you to?'
Bloom: 'Yes. They said they'll arrive in a few days.'
Extimum: 'That's good. Right then, let's get some rest. It's been a long day.'
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discord.gg/ZZrUfk3msj