Hogwarts during the Christmas break was an ethereal, lonely place. The Great Hall echoed with the ghosts of laughter, and the corridors felt far larger without the usual swarm of students. On the second afternoon of the holiday, Maurise tracked down the Weasley twins as they were loitering in the snow-dusted Clock Tower courtyard.
"You want to spar with us?" Fred asked the moment Maurise made his request. He leaned down, looking at the younger boy with mock concern. "Is someone picking on you, little Raven? Just give us a name and we'll ensure they have a very 'explosive' New Year."
"Or did you have a sudden mid-holiday crisis?" George added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "The silence of the library finally got to you?"
Maurise gave his wand a casual flick, feeling the familiar weight of it. "I just want a clear sense of where I actually stand," he explained.
While he had managed to drop three adult wizards in Knockturn Alley with a well-timed Bone-Calling, he wasn't delusional. That victory owed more to their arrogance and the element of surprise than his own seasoned mastery. He needed to know if he was actually good, or if he was just lucky.
"Alright then, what's in the repertoire?" Fred asked, crossing his arms.
"A bit of everything," Maurise replied, opting for a modest tone. "For combat? The Blasting Curse, Incendio, the Summoning Charm, Expelliarmus, and a decent Shield Charm. It's a short list, but it covers the basics."
Fred blinked, sharing a look with George. "Are you pulling our legs? Most normal students don't touch half of those until their third year. You've been here one term."
Maurise offered a small, cheeky grin. "Well, I am a bit of a prodigy. It's only logical."
The twins remained silent for a beat, processing the sheer audacity of the statement.
"Right then, Mr. Prodigy," Fred said, his tone shifting into one of playful challenge. "Since you're so confident, let's see if that wand-work lives up to the ego."
The two of them paced out to opposite sides of the courtyard. Maurise and Fred raised their wands in a formal dueling stance, while George stepped to the sidelines to act as the self-appointed referee.
"Ready... set... GO!" George shouted.
Maurise didn't hesitate. He skipped the feeling-out process entirely and snapped his wand forward. "Stupefy!"
A bolt of red light streaked toward Fred's chest with alarming speed and precision.
Fred, who had been expecting a clumsy first-year opening, widened his eyes in genuine shock. He barely managed a frantic sweep of his wand. "Protego!"
The Stunning Spell slammed into the shimmering transparent barrier with a heavy, metallic thud. The force of the impact was significant, sending Fred staggering back a step as his boots skidded on the light frosting of ice.
"Blimey!" George whistled from the sidelines, his grin widening. "Better wake up, Fred! He's trying to put you to sleep!"
Fred found his footing, his expression sharpening. The playfulness was still there, but it was now tempered with the focus of a true Gryffindor. If the kid wanted a real fight, he was going to get one.
"Rictusemp—"
Fred didn't even get the word out.
Two streaks of crimson light suddenly whistled from the shadows of the nearby cloisters, curving through the air like heat-seeking missiles. One headed for Maurise, the other for Fred.
The movement was too fast for Maurise to coordinate a standard Shield Charm. Instead, he relied on instinct and his more practiced arts. With a sharp jab, he conjured a jagged slab of bone that erupted from the cobblestones like a morbid shield. The red bolt hit the bone with a crack and dissipated.
Fred wasn't as lucky. His wand hand went numb as the spell connected, and his hawthorn wand went flying through the air. It was caught neatly by a small, nimble hand.
Professor Flitwick stepped into the center of the courtyard, holding Fred's wand in one hand and his own in the other.
"Fighting in the courtyard is strictly prohibited!" Flitwick announced. He marched toward them with quick, rhythmic steps, his expression uncharacteristically stern. "Gentlemen, I believe I deserve a very thorough explanation."
The three boys looked at each other, caught between guilt and the urge to laugh. It was clear Flitwick assumed a genuine brawl had broken out.
"Professor, it's not what it looks like," Fred said, raising his empty hands. "We were just practicing. A bit of friendly fire to keep the blood moving in the cold."
"Is that so?" Flitwick turned to Maurise, his bushy eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. He knew all too well that "practicing" was the standard cover story for magical bullying.
"It was a mutual duel, sir," Maurise confirmed. "George was even acting as the referee. No malice intended."
Flitwick glanced at George, who gave a sheepish thumbs-up. His expression softened. Usually, if there was a fight involving the twins, it was two-on-one. Seeing them spar with a first-year Ravenclaw was unusual, but seemingly honest.
He handed the wand back to Fred, though his voice remained firm. "If you wish to practice, you should do so under supervision or in a designated classroom. Safety first, boys."
"We were prepared, Professor!" Fred interjected. "We had everything we needed for a medical emergency."
"Oh?" Flitwick asked, suspicious. "And what might that be?"
"A giant bottle of Essence of Dittany," Fred said.
"And a very soft, very warm blanket," George added, suddenly producing a thick wool rug from seemingly nowhere.
Flitwick sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Very well. I shall stay and observe for a few rounds. Just this once. I'd rather be here to catch the spells than have to carry one of you to Madam Pomfrey."
With a Duelling Champion watching over them, Maurise and Fred let loose. The courtyard lit up with a kaleidoscope of colors as charms and hexes hissed through the winter air.
Flitwick watched with growing astonishment. He knew Fred Weasley was a natural talent despite his academic distractions, but Maurise was a revelation. To see a first-year Ravenclaw holding his own, moving with such fluidity and using charms that shouldn't be in his vocabulary for another two years, was staggering.
The boast Maurise had made to Professor Babbling recently didn't seem like an exaggeration anymore. The boy was a predator in a duel.
"Expelliarmus!"
Maurise caught Fred off-balance with a low-angle shot that slipped under his guard. Fred's wand spun into the air.
Flitwick blew a silver whistle he had conjured out of thin air. "That's enough! Match to Mr. Maurise. Excellent work, all of you!"
Maurise wiped the sweat from his brow, shivering slightly as the cold air hit his damp skin. He walked over to Fred and offered a hand. "That was incredible, Fred. Thanks for the workout."
"You're a menace," Fred panted, shaking out his tingling wrist and grinning. "Where did you learn to move like that? You're a literal monster."
"Not a monster," Maurise corrected him with a wink. "Just a genius."
Internally, Maurise was calculating. Even without using the more exotic spells from his private grimoire, he was slightly ahead of a talented third-year. It was a good start, but he knew the world outside Hogwarts was much more dangerous than a friendly spar in the snow. He still had a long way to go.
After the twins headed back to Gryffindor Tower to warm up, Maurise made his way to the Great Hall. The long tables were mostly empty, but the House Elves certainly hadn't let the holiday spirit slide. The spread was magnificent.
He sat down, helping himself to a large portion of caramel pudding. "Now this," he muttered, savoring the creamy sweetness, "is the proper way to spend a holiday."
It was a vast improvement over the dry sandwiches and beer-scented stews he'd grown accustomed to at the Leaky Cauldron.
He was halfway through his second helping when a familiar shadow fell over the table. He looked up to see Harry Potter standing there, looking somewhat anxious.
"Do you have a moment tonight?" Harry asked quietly. "There's something I found. A mirror. I think... I think you might need to see it too."