Two days later, in the evening, Avada rubbed his temples as he returned to the common room from the library—only to find a large crowd gathered around the noticeboard, excitedly discussing a freshly pinned piece of parchment.
"What's going on?"
His first thought was that Dumbledore had finally used a Time-Turner to catch the culprit behind the coma incidents. "Has everything been resolved? Or has the restorative potion been completed ahead of schedule?"
"Neither—but it's still pretty good news!"
Cedric was the first to spot Avada. He squeezed out of the crowd and pointed at the parchment. "To improve students' self-defense abilities and crisis awareness, the school is setting up a Duelling Club. The first meeting is tonight!"
"Probably because of the recent coma incidents," said a Hufflepuff student nearby, clearly just here for the gossip. "Doesn't feel like it'll help much, but learning a few duelling tricks can't hurt."
Avada pursed his lips and stepped forward to read the notice himself—
Sure enough, it didn't mention which professors would be overseeing the club.
Which made sense. If students knew that the duelling club would be hosted by Gilderoy Lockhart—whose reputation had grown increasingly absurd—this whole thing would probably turn straight into a Lockhart fan meeting…
"So, go or not go?"
Avada hesitated.
The duelling club probably wouldn't teach him much, and his injuries still weren't suited for intense combat—but watching the spectacle might help keep his spirits up. Besides, the club could serve as a substitute for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Especially after Lockhart had turned that class into his personal stage, this substitute felt even more necessary.
Even if the course content itself had become too basic for Avada, drawing his wand and trading spells with classmates was still enjoyable. Third-years all knew their limits—there was no need to worry about anything too intense aggravating his injuries.
Not to mention that scene—Harry's first display of Parseltongue. With no "Heir of Slytherin" incident this time around, Avada was curious how people would react…
...
At eight o'clock that evening, Avada followed the flow of students into the Great Hall.
The four long house tables had vanished, replaced by a gilded platform illuminated by hundreds of floating candles. The enchanted ceiling had once again turned a velvet-black, the stars dimmed by the candlelight.
At least half the school had shown up, packed shoulder to shoulder. Everyone already had their wands out, faces full of excitement and anticipation—until…
"Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!"
That nightmare of a voice rang out, instantly triggering a wave of cheers mixed with a few anguished groans.
"I knew it was him! A duelling club obviously falls under Defense Against the Dark Arts—of course it's the Defense professor hosting it!"
"…Is it still possible to leave now?"
"Only if you want to argue with your girlfriend… seriously, why are there still so many people who idolize him??"
Gilderoy Lockhart strode onto the stage, radiant in a purple-magenta robe, dazzling as ever. But the person beside him was even more surprising—
Severus Snape, still dressed in his usual bat-like black robes.
Lockhart waved for silence and announced loudly, "Professor Dumbledore has graciously permitted me to establish this modest duelling club—to properly train you all, help relieve some stress in these tense times, and teach you a few skills that may prove useful in the future. You will learn to protect yourselves using methods I have employed countless times—should you wish to know more, please consult my published works…"
"And now, let me introduce my assistant for tonight—Professor Snape."
Lockhart grinned, flashing a full eight-tooth smile. "He suggested that, to demonstrate the diversity of duelling styles, I should invite more professors to participate. And he has very generously agreed to assist me with a small demonstration before class begins. Don't worry—once we're done, I'll return your Potions master to you in one piece. No need to be afraid!"
"If they both end up badly injured, wouldn't that be perfect?" someone muttered.
"And if the club runs smoothly," Lockhart continued loudly, "I may even consider inviting Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout—perhaps even Headmaster Dumbledore himself—to demonstrate more schools of technique and style…"
'That'd be a real bargain. Worth coming,' Avada raised an eyebrow. 'Still, this guy really knows how to play the crowd—fully aware he's incompetent, so he plans to ride on the reputations of genuinely powerful professors…'
"Now then—Professor Snape and I will demonstrate a standard duel…"
Lockhart and Snape stepped apart, turned to face one another, and exchanged shallow bows. And whether it was imagination or not, Avada could have sworn he saw Snape's lips curl into a strange smile…
They raised their wands to chest level like drawn swords, then adopted their stances.
Lockhart took the most textbook fencing pose. Snape, however, was entirely different—his wand hand raised above his head, elbow bent, wand tip aimed forward, while his empty left hand stretched straight ahead.
Avada's pupils shrank.
This was a stance used only by extremely aggressive experts. The extended left hand suggested confidence in blocking the first exchange with wandless magic, while the retracted wand allowed enormous freedom of motion—perfect for unleashing powerful spells with sweeping gestures.
Combined with that eerie smile…
"As you can see, we hold our wands in the standard duelling posture," Lockhart addressed the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we'll cast our first spell. Naturally, neither of us will attempt to take the other's life…"
"One—two—three—"
"Expelliarmus!"
A brilliant red beam erupted from Snape's raised wand and struck Lockhart almost instantly. Lockhart didn't even have time to react—he was blasted clean off the stage, slammed into the wall, and slowly slid down to the floor…
Given Professor Snape's skill, he could've flicked his wand and sent Lockhart flying with a single wordless spell.
Instead, he'd assumed a full stance and clearly spoken the incantation.
How gentle of him.
"Completely unsurprising."
Below the stage, many students nodded in unison. Snape's reputation might be terrible, but his strength was unquestionable—anyone who'd seen him casually resolve classroom disasters with a wave of his wand, or even a snap of his fingers, knew that much.
As for Lockhart…
After a month, anyone whose idol filter was even slightly thin could see what level he was really at.
"Did you all see that?" Lockhart climbed back onto the stage at a leisurely pace, looking positively delighted—as if he had just blasted Snape away. "Professor Snape just demonstrated a standard Disarming Charm—excellent spell, Severus. However, I hope you won't mind me saying this, but your intentions were far too obvious. Stopping—or even taking you down—would've been effortless for me…"
"I wouldn't mind showing the students a complete duelling process."
Snape sneered lightly, his tone calm—but the murderous intent in his eyes told a different story.
"Ahem—I think we've demonstrated quite enough," Lockhart instinctively took a step back, only to find Snape still gripping his wand, unmoving, clearly not inclined to let this go. Panic crept in. "Ah—right! I mean… perhaps our level is a bit too advanced for the students. It might give them unrealistic expectations!"
"I think we should invite an excellent pair of students to demonstrate a duel that's both exciting and easy to understand. Don't you agree, Severus…?"
"Mr. Ken! Mr. Shafiq! Would you please come up onto the stage?"
"???"
(End of Chapter)