"Yo, you guys hear? Lockhart's starting a Duelling Club," Casen burst into the dorm, completely wrecking Julien and Edgar's Gobstones match.
Julien quickly flipped the board so the exploding pieces hit him instead of Edgar. He was already dripping with stinky egg goo. "Lockhart? You think he can actually pull it off?"
"Better than us first- and second-years who've barely seen real combat," Edgar chimed in. "Last year it was Quirrell, this year Lockhart's been telling stories since day one."
"Guess we'll go check it out."
The whole castle felt like a guitar string pulled way too tight. Corridors stayed quiet—no more loud laughter, no groups messing around. Everyone traveled in packs now, like numbers could scare off whatever was hiding in the shadows. Even the fearless Gryffindors sped up when they passed certain corners.
"What we need right now is real combat training!" Gilderoy Lockhart stood on a makeshift stage in the Great Hall, his rose-gold waistcoat sparkling under the floating lanterns, golden hair still perfect.
He threw his arms wide, flashing those blinding white teeth. The Sonorus charm carried his voice everywhere. "Defence Against the Dark Arts isn't just theory—it's practice! So I'm proud to announce the official Hogwarts Duelling Club!"
A few half-hearted claps rippled through the hall. Julien sat at the Ravenclaw table, spinning his silver lime wand between his fingers, brow furrowed.
Duelling Club. Yeah, that tracked with the books. The petrifications had everyone on edge; Lockhart was just riding the wave.
"To sharpen your practical skills," Lockhart went on, grinning like he was in love with his own reflection, "I've invited a… uh… special assistant. He's not quite at my level, but he should be more than enough for you beginners."
The huge doors slammed open. A black shape swept in like a storm cloud. Severus Snape glided to the stage, face blank, robes billowing, eyes colder than the North Sea.
"Professor Snape will help with the demonstration," Lockhart's smile twitched—Snape's presence clearly wasn't part of the script. "Now, let's show everyone what a real wizard duel looks like!"
The two men faced off in the center. Lockhart gave an over-the-top bow, twirling his wand like he was at a ballroom dance.
Snape just nodded once, wand already in hand, staring him down.
"Shall I count us in, Severus?" Lockhart winked. "Remember, this is just a demo—I won't go too hard—"
"Expelliarmus!"
Snape didn't even let him finish. One smooth step forward, a flick of the wrist, and a red bolt slammed into Lockhart. The so-called legendary wizard flew backward, smashed into a stone pillar, and slid down the wall like a sack of wet laundry.
His shiny waistcoat was covered in dust. His perfect hair flopped over his face. Zero legendary vibes left.
The hall went dead silent—then exploded with laughter.
Snape holstered his wand without a word, expression unchanged.
Lockhart scrambled up, cheeks flaming red, but forced the smile back on. "Er… brilliant demonstration! Though honestly, Severus, your intent was so obvious I could've dodged that easily. I was simply showing the students what not to do."
He brushed himself off, still trying to salvage dignity. "Right! Let's bring up some student volunteers for real practice. Who'd like to—"
"I'll go."
A clear voice rang out from the Ravenclaw table. Julien stood, emerald eyes calm as still water.
He had no idea what would happen next, but sitting back and waiting felt wrong. If he could change even one thing, he was doing it.
Lockhart blinked, then recognized him. "Ah! Mr. Black! Ravenclaw's top student! Excellent courage! Your opponent will be…"
"Since this is a demonstration," Snape cut in smoothly, black eyes lingering on Julien for a split second before sliding to the Slytherin table, "we should keep the match balanced between houses. And… strength should be evenly matched, yes? Miss Rosier, if you would."
Elizabeth Rosier rose slowly. Her deep-green cloak rippled like dark water in the lantern light.
She ignored Lockhart completely, shrugged the cloak off, and walked to the center. Her ice-gray eyes met Julien's across the space—questioning, but also carrying that private understanding only they shared.
"Perfect!" Lockhart clapped. "Ravenclaw versus Slytherin! Brains against ambition! Take your positions, you two!"
Julien moved to one side, ten paces from Rosier.
He could feel every eye in the hall on them. Hermione looked worried from the Gryffindor table; Harry and Ron were pumping their fists like they were at a boxing match.
"Simple rules," Lockhart boomed. "First to disarm or incapacitate wins, but keep it clean—no Dark magic. You've all learned the standard spells. Bow!"
Julien and Rosier inclined their heads, eyes never leaving each other.
"Begin!"
"Expelliarmus!" Rosier struck first. A clean red bolt shot straight at him.
"Protego!" Julien's wand carved an arc. A pale-gold shield flared to life. The disarming spell slammed into it and scattered in ripples.
Fast, Julien thought, wrist flicking. "Impedimenta!"
A transparent barrier popped up to slow her down.
Rosier had clearly expected it—she rolled sideways in one graceful move, wand stabbing at the floor. "Locomotor Mortis? Wait—no: Flipendo!"
The flagstones under Julien turned springy. A huge force launched him upward.
He didn't panic. Mid-air he twisted, wand pointing down at her. "Levicorpus!"
Not on himself—on her. Rosier felt her body lighten and float off the ground too.
They hovered facing each other, like two stars pulled by the same gravity.
"Finite!" Rosier snapped, breaking the charm and drifting backward. The second her feet touched down she whipped her wand. "Incendio!"
An orange whip of flame cracked toward him. Every kid knew the basic fire spell for lighting hearths, but Rosier's version was way beyond second-year level—clearly family training.
Julien didn't flinch. "Aguamenti!"
A simple jet of clear water met the flame whip head-on, exploding into thick steam.
In the sudden white fog their sight vanished, but magical senses stayed sharp. Julien tracked her—she was circling fast, trying to flank him.
"Trying to sneak up?" A tiny smile tugged at his mouth. Wand tapping the floor: "Impedimenta Maxima!"
This time it was an area cast. The whole center of the platform slowed to a crawl.
Rosier's movement stuttered. Julien burst out of the steam, wand leveled. "Expelliarmus!"
Admiration flashed in her eyes. She didn't dodge—she stepped forward, wand tracing a complex pattern. "Protego Maxima!"
A silver shield flared, but Julien caught the tiny secret hand gesture behind her back—classic Rosier family trick.
Bang!
The red bolt bounced off. Rosier staggered back three steps. Both of them were breathing harder now, distance reset.
"Brilliant back-and-forth!" Lockhart yelled from the sidelines. "These two are truly impressive! But remember, this is just a demo—don't—"
"Shut up," Snape said coldly.
Julien and Rosier ignored the noise. Their eyes met again—both clearly holding back.
"Draw?" Julien whispered, for her ears only.
"Draw," Rosier answered with the faintest nod.
Lockhart glanced between them, then clapped. "A draw! What an outstanding duel! Let's give them a round of applause!"
The hall erupted. Julien and Rosier bowed again.
As they straightened, Rosier leaned in just enough for him to hear: "Next time… I want to see your real cards."
"No problem," Julien smiled. "Anytime."