Chapter 144: Dueling Club
“Everyone gather around, come to the front! Can everyone see me? Can you hear me speaking?
“As announced in the notice, Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to start the Dueling Club, so that I, with ample experience, can train everyone and teach you the correct way to protect yourselves. Although you’ve already read this content in your books, text and teaching are different…”
In the School Auditorium, the tables and chairs from the long tables and high table along the walls had all been cleared away, replaced by a temporary gilded stage. Hundreds of candles floated in mid-air, and the magical dome turned into a black velvet color, like a theater curtain.
Lockhart wore a gorgeous purple-red robe, his carefully styled hair smooth and shiny, his smile brilliant, the whole person radiating the glow of a stage play protagonist.
At the door of the antechamber along the wall, Professor Sprout couldn’t help but complain: “Isn’t this the club opening? Why dress up like this?”
Flitwick also found it strange: “Usually procuring a few teaching aids requires an application, so why can he use so many candles to decorate the stage? How did Minerva agree to it?”
Professor McGonagall couldn’t answer his question, as she was upstairs checking the list of students staying for Christmas and hadn’t attended tonight’s club activity.
So the professors’ gazes shifted to Professor Dumbledore in the corner.
Dumbledore spread his hands and shrugged, indicating he didn’t know either; he was just a hands-off headmaster.
The old headmaster was pretending to be clueless again.
Melvin pursed his lips. Just the other day in the courtyard while admiring the snow, it was the same—hinting at Horcruxes with the topic of memory but not spelling it out completely. What an old riddler.
If you don’t say it, I won’t say it either…
Melvin had also chosen to play dumb that day, chatting philosophy with the old headmaster for half an hour, until the two inexplicably reached some tacit understanding, and the Horcrux topic fizzled out.
But he did know about tonight’s stage decorations.
“The leftover candles from last year’s Christmas banquet, dug up while cleaning the storeroom a while ago. We bought new ones this year anyway, and they weren’t being used, so they went to Professor Lockhart’s club.” Melvin explained.
“Why not give them to me for teaching aids…”
Professor Flitwick muttered, his gaze sweeping over the little wizards full of anticipation, shaking his head slightly, thinking they were probably going to be disappointed.
The audience below crowded around the gilded stage tightly; almost all the school’s students had come, shoulder to shoulder, gripping their wands, faces full of excitement.
After the Dueling Club notice was posted, in just a few hours it became a hot topic among the students. Compared to the choir, Drama Club, or Gobstones Club, this club involving combat and magic was far more appealing.
Professor Lockhart had been mediocre in the months before term started, but now he had adapted to the Hogwarts environment, fixed his damaged wand, and his dueling lessons as a legendary adventurer were truly anticipated.
After several days of buildup, this club opening had drawn the participation of the entire school.
“Welcome everyone once again!”
Lockhart tried to make his voice reach every corner of the auditorium.
Attracting the gaze of the entire audience, his ears full of adoring praise.
This feeling was too wonderful; not even a hundred bottles of concentrated Draught of Living Death could compare, nor a powerful cheerfulness charm this joyful. Lockhart immersed himself in the praise and glory, feeling utterly relaxed.
He had originally planned to seal his self-memories and host the opening using the Snow Village old wizard’s method, but he couldn’t resist the temptation and was reluctant to wait until everyone dispersed and he returned to his office at night to savor the delayed vanity.
As for ensuring teaching quality and handling the current scene, Lockhart had prepared in advance. He cleared his throat: “First, let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape!”
The Potions professor, who stayed all day in the sunless underground room circling cauldrons and specimens, looked physically weak and not skilled in dueling.
Was there a better assistant than this?
Lockhart couldn’t help but grin: “Professor Snape claims to know a thing or two about dueling and is willing to assist me in a small demonstration before the formal lesson.”
Snape in his black robe stepped out of the shadows, his lips curving into a faint arc, pulling out an ugly, perfunctory smile.
The students then noticed the assistant nearby—and it was Snape—widening their eyes one after another, a not-small murmur erupting from below the stage.
“Hiss…”
Harry sucked in a breath of cold air and said to his partner beside him: “If Snape smiled at me like that, I’d turn and run right away.”
Ron nodded repeatedly, deeply agreeing.
Hermione said nothing, but her expression showed agreement.
“Listen to me, little ones, no need to worry, no need to be afraid. After Professor Snape and I finish our demonstration, we’ll return your Potions teacher to you, guaranteed intact!”
Snape’s face still bore the perfunctory smile.
The professors observing from afar fell somewhat silent, exchanging glances with sympathy and reluctance.
Kind-hearted Professor Sprout sighed: “Wish him good luck.”
……
“One, two, three!”
【Disarming Charm】
“Bang…”
He flew backward, crashing into the wall, then slid down and fell to the ground, curling up on the carpet. Lockhart felt like his bones were about to fall apart, his vision going black, struggling to breathe.
His first thought was that his robe was torn, then he realized the assistant had picked the wrong person.
This Potions professor was not only skilled in Potions but equally skilled in dueling.
“Cough cough…”
Lockhart staggered to his feet, wobbling back onto the stage, trying to cover for himself: “Good, everyone saw that, right? I demonstrated a Disarming Charm for you, which makes me lose my wand. My wand…”
He looked around, and Lavender in the front row handed up the retrieved wand, her eyes somewhat complicated.
“Thank you, Miss Brown.”
Lockhart took the wand, his mind racing, thinking of ways to recover while stubbornly saying: “Professor Snape, that’s a nice move, but the intent was too obvious. Stopping you would be easy, but I cooperated on purpose to broaden the students’ knowledge. Next, it’s your turn to cooperate with me…”
Snape’s eyes grew cold.
Lockhart quickly stopped, his eyes darting around, spotting the professors watching from afar, his eyes lighting up: “Levent… Professor Levent!”
“Professor Levent and I have better tacit understanding; we can probably achieve a better demonstration effect. Professor Levent? Professor Levent?”
He figured Melvin would definitely cooperate, and even if not, such a young professor, what strength could he have?
Lockhart’s face flushed with excitement at the prospect, and even seeing him shake his head, he wouldn’t let go, turning to rally the little wizards below: “Shall we give Professor Levent some applause?”
The students of course applauded and cheered, welcoming him enthusiastically.
The professors held back laughter, showing looks of anticipation for the show.
“…”
Melvin’s expression grew uncomfortable.
What was with these students egging him on.
Couldn’t they see Professor Snape had humiliated Lockhart without even smiling?
Wizard duels had some ritualistic elements, like medieval knight duels or Wild West gunslinger showdowns, emphasizing evenly matched opponents. Dueling Lockhart—winning wasn’t worth celebrating, losing would be disgusting for months.
Amid the commotion, Snape slightly turned his head, looked at Lockhart, and let out a low sneer: “Have you forgotten? He has an Order of Merlin medal about to be awarded.”
Lockhart’s smile froze, his body stiffening in place.
Melvin Levent, during his trip in Romania, helped control a multi-headed fire dragon riot, subdued a gang of dark wizards stealing dragon eggs. To commend his achievements, the Romanian Ministry of Magic applied for a First Class Order of Merlin for him, which the Order of Merlin reviewed and changed to Second Class Medal; the award ceremony date was not yet set.
A young professor who could defeat fire dragons and dark wizard gangs—Lockhart suddenly felt uneasy, unsure if Melvin would cooperate.
If he didn’t cooperate…
Lockhart pressed his faintly aching abdomen, wondering if he should pretend to have a concussion and faint, muddling through tonight before figuring out how to cover later.
Snape took in his expression, waited for the students’ cheers to die down, then strode past Lockhart to the front of the stage and said calmly: “I’ll demonstrate with Professor Levent.”
Lockhart’s figure quietly faded, noticed by a few sharp-eyed students in the front row, who pushed excuses like feeling unwell, wand damaged, cold making him dizzy, and such.
Melvin glanced at Dumbledore nearby and didn’t refuse further, walking up the path cleared by the students to the stage.
About half a minute later.
Under the gaze of the entire school’s teachers and students, Melvin and Snape faced each other, standing opposite, bowed, raised their wands in front, and counted down in unison:
“Ready, three, two, one!”
【Disarming Charm】
【Iron armor】
Dazzling red light streaked across the stage, its path blocked by an invisible magical barrier, bursting into even more splendid brilliance upon collision.
Melvin’s wand flicked lightly, sending the red light back; Snape flung another Disarming Charm, the two red lights colliding and turning into starry fragments.
Intermingling with the floating candlelight, it was beautiful.
The Disarming Charm that had sent Lockhart flying straight away became, in these two professors’ hands, like obedient performance props.
One program ended, another followed.
【Stupefy】
【Iron armor】
【…】
The auditorium gradually quieted, echoing only with the two professors casting spells, spells whistling past, many little witches unable to hold back gasps.
Once they calmed down, they soon realized the two professors were truly just demonstrating, unlike the intense fights the little wizards had imagined. The professors traded back and forth, one attacking and one defending, then seeking opportunities to seize the offensive.
The spells cast were mid-to-high year level, slightly beyond most students’ level but within their barely reachable limit.
Casting speed was slow, almost textbook standard motions.
They demonstrated more rhythm, close to real wizard dueling, but slowed down and broken apart so every student could see clearly.
【Full Body-Bind】
【Petrification】
【…】
Percy and his girlfriend Penelope stood in the front row, eyes unblinking, unwilling to miss a single move, their eyes even reddening with burst vessels.
The other students below were also entranced.
The professors observing from afar noticed some clues; Master Duelist Flitwick’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the two constantly clashing figures and chuckled softly: “I knew it, how could those two cooperate closely…”
After a few more spell exchanges, the audience suddenly noticed the professors’ spell collisions sounding deeper.
Two beams of different colors crashed together, emitting a booming sound like giant stones colliding.
Percy and Penelope, being close, could even feel the gust of wind brushing their cheeks, tousling their hair; Percy still refused to blink, tears shimmering in his eyes.
【Thunderbolt Explosion】
【Sectumsempra】
【…】
Various defensive and offensive spells tore through the air, whistling across the stage; the battle had now entered a white-hot phase, but the two professors remained unhurried, displaying every detail clearly, their wand thrusts and withdrawals calm and composed, light and agile, even carrying a touch of elegance.
【Shedding the Shadow】
【Fiendfyre】
“Boom!”
Finally, the two dark magics collided, orange-yellow flames tinged with scarlet splashing everywhere, only to be contained by an invisible bubble film just before hitting the stage, the bright scorching firelight quietly extinguishing.
The two professors on stage stopped simultaneously, their bowing figures etched on the auditorium walls.
The little wizards’ gazes followed them off the stage, no longer caring what Lockhart, who came up afterward, was saying.
“Who do you think is better, Professor Levent or Professor Snape?” Instigator Seamus tried to stir up debate.
“Professor Levent, he can subdue fire dragons!” This was a well-informed Hufflepuff.
“I think it’s Professor Snape; he could poison Professor Levent.” This was a Slytherin slandering their own dean.
Lavender tried to join the discussion: “What about Professor Lockhart?”
All the little wizards around looked up at that professor—robe torn, curly hair disheveled, no longer as polished as at the opening, still spouting ridiculous self-praise.
Regardless of house, they all showed looks of disdain.
Lockhart was oblivious, or aware but uncaring: “The two professors just presented a performance match for us, very exciting, but with many shortcomings, like the casting speed being too slow…
“If it were against yetis or werewolves, this sluggish casting would get you torn apart by their sharp claws and fangs before finishing the incantation.
“Alright, the demonstration ends here!
“Now you pair up for duelling practice, two per group. Let’s begin the real dueling!”
……
“Fiendfyre?”
Back among the observing professors, Snape gave Melvin a deep look. “Professor Levent is also skilled in dark magic; truly surprising.”
“Professor Snape is skilled in proper dueling, which equally surprises me.” Melvin replied softly.
“…”
Snape’s face darkened.
The professors nearby started holding back laughter again.
Melvin wore a faint smile.
He didn’t deny having a stereotype of Snape, thinking this double agent had a dark and negative personality, only Potions and dark magic. After this duel, his view improved slightly; this professor was indeed suited for Defence Against the Dark Arts—he had the ability to excel at it.
