Louis had barely descended a few floors from the Room of Requirement when a group of running young wizards caught his attention. Their hurried conversation echoed down the corridor.
"Come on, hurry! I heard there's a duel at the Quidditch pitch!"
"A duel? Between who?"
"They say it's that prettiest girl from Slytherin and Malfoy."
"Huh? But they're both Slytherins! Why would they duel each other?"
"Apparently… because of a Ravenclaw girl."
"What? Over a girl?"
The last boy's tone trailed off in a way that made the others snicker and imagine all sorts of things.
Quidditch pitch… a Slytherin duel… involving a Ravenclaw girl?
Those clues spun together in Louis's mind, and the answer became obvious.
"That Ravenclaw girl—could it be Hermione? What on earth are those two Slytherins thinking?" Louis's first thought was that some Slytherin brats had probably lost their minds again.
With that, he folded away his Marauder's Map and set off toward the Quidditch field.
To make it there faster—and not miss the show—Louis used both his Acceleration and Levitation powers, diving straight out the nearest window. He didn't bother to hide it; after all, what was so strange about a wizard flying?
Meanwhile, on the eighth floor of the castle, Headmaster Dumbledore was standing by his window, gently preening the feathers of baby Fawkes.
After a few months of growth, the phoenix had gone from thumb-sized chick to a bird about the size of a fist.
Its growth rate was much slower than before, but Dumbledore wasn't worried. After being drained of so much phoenix fire by Dio Brando, Fawkes's very essence had been damaged—slow recovery was to be expected.
Suddenly, a pink streak flashed past the window. Louis, flying at full speed, zipped right before Dumbledore's eyes—startling the old wizard so much that his hand slipped and plucked two tail feathers clean off Fawkes.
"Gaaah!" squawked Fawkes, glaring furiously and giving Dumbledore a sharp peck on the finger.
"Oh—terribly sorry, Fawkes. I got distracted for a moment," Dumbledore apologized, soothing the offended bird before quietly pocketing the two feathers.
"Well… I'll send these to Ollivander later. I'm sure he'll find a use for them."
At Louis's breakneck speed, it didn't take long for him to reach the Quidditch pitch. A massive crowd had gathered there.
Around the field were layer upon layer of students watching, while a dozen Quidditch players hovered above the stands on their brooms—Slytherins and Gryffindors alike.
For once, they weren't yelling at each other; instead, they were sitting side by side in rare harmony, united by the promise of a good show.
Among them, Harry and Ron were sharing a single broom, leaning close together—looking, frankly, very affectionate.
"What on earth are you two doing?" Louis floated up beside their broom, glancing down at the field below. "Cassandra and Malfoy? They're the ones dueling?"
Harry and Ron, who had been watching intently, turned in surprise at the voice beside them—only to realize Louis was standing upright in midair.
They nearly fell off their broom in shock.
"Louis—you can fly?!" Harry gasped, eyes wide with envy. "What kind of advanced magic is that?"
"Well," Louis replied with mock solemnity, "you could say it's… a natural talent."
He smirked and lifted a hand.
Instantly, soft pink petals bloomed beneath his feet—tiny flowers unfurling in midair, surrounding him as though he were gliding atop a drifting sea of blossoms.
A gentle breeze swept across the pitch, carrying the petals into the sky, swirling around the spectators in a dazzling shower of color.
Harry reached out and caught one of the drifting petals. The soft texture against his fingers made his eyes widen.
"These are real flowers!" he exclaimed in shock.
"Of course," Louis replied with an easy smile, maintaining a fragment of his inherent barrier just to show off. "Why wouldn't they be?"
Below, the crowd began to notice the cascade of petals filling the air. Heads tilted upward, fingers pointed, and a wave of astonished cries spread across the Quidditch pitch.
> [You have used your inherent barrier and talismanic power to deceive 73 underage wizards.]
> [You have gained 2,100 Trick Points. Current total: 191,800.]
"Alright, you lot keep watching—I'll head down for a closer look."
Pocketing his newly earned Trick Points, Louis dispelled both the barrier and his levitation charm, dropping straight down.
The crowd surrounding Cassandra, Draco Malfoy, and Hermione scattered as Louis landed lightly in their midst.
In the wizarding world, there were thousands of kinds of magic—countless secret spells known only to individuals. Even Dumbledore wouldn't claim to have mastered them all. So, no one was particularly shocked to see Louis flying through the air.
Magic, after all, was extraordinary by nature.
"Quite the crowd you've drawn," Louis said with a grin, giving Hermione a little wave. "So, what's going on? Fill me in."
Hermione hesitated, glancing at Cassandra and Malfoy.
She wasn't sure whether to speak. If she told Louis and let him punish Malfoy, wouldn't that be a bit disrespectful to Cassandra, who clearly wanted to handle it herself?
"Maybe we should let them settle it on their own?" she asked quietly, seeking Louis's opinion.
"Alright," Louis said agreeably, nodding. "But I can probably guess anyway—did this idiot start running his mouth again?"
Across from them, Malfoy—who had already wilted the moment Louis appeared—looked even more nervous.
He was suddenly regretting everything. Why had he decided to pick on Hermione of all people?
It was one of those moments where he realized how brave he thought he was before things actually got real.
Louis chuckled softly and looked between Cassandra and Malfoy. "Well, since you both look ready to duel, let's not waste time. I'll act as referee. How about that?"
"Fine by me," Cassandra said instantly.
Malfoy, however, froze—hesitant and pale.
"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Louis teased. "You're not afraid of a girl who's a year younger than you, are you?"
"I—of course I'm not afraid!" Malfoy stammered. "But you have to promise not to interfere!"
Deep down, he was terrified that Louis might rig the duel somehow—make him lose to a first-year who hadn't even been at Hogwarts a full week yet. The humiliation would be unbearable.
"So that's what you're worried about," Louis said with a light laugh. "Relax, I won't step in. And I'll even promise you this: if you win the duel, I'll stay out of whatever happened earlier. I won't trouble you at all."
"Really?" Malfoy's eyes lit up, hope flickering across his face.
"Of course. I keep my word," Louis said pleasantly—then his tone dropped several degrees colder.
"But if you lose… you'd better stop by Madam Pomfrey's office afterward and ask for a week's supply of Calming Draught."
The moment the words left his mouth, not only Malfoy but most of the onlookers shivered involuntarily.
Up above, Harry—still on his broom—leaned toward Ron and whispered, "You think Louis means he's gonna give Malfoy nightmares for a week?"
"Sounds like it," Ron replied. "What do you think?"
Harry grinned broadly. "I think that's brilliant."
---
RedX43's Note:
➤ Want More? Read Extra Chapters on Patreon!
➤ [email protected]/RedX43
➤ Thanks for the support! 🙌