Serpensortia

Edmund did not know whether Snape would leave Lockhart intact, but Lockhart was certainly not leaving the platform with his dignity intact.

Snape already looked ready to bury him.

Lockhart, apparently blind to his own impending disaster, explained the rules with great enthusiasm.

"As you can see, we hold our wands in the standard dueling position," he told the students. "On the count of three, we cast the first spell. Naturally, neither of us intends to harm the other."

Snape smiled. Edmund gave Lockhart three silent seconds of mourning.

"One. Two. Three."

"Expelliarmus."

Red light struck Lockhart before he could finish moving. His wand flew from his hand, and he slammed backward into the wall before sliding to the floor.

The Slytherins applauded their Head of House with open delight. A few students looked genuinely worried.

"Is he all right?" Hermione asked, one hand rising to her mouth.

"Snape held back," Edmund said.

That did not stop Edmund from frowning. Lockhart's spellcasting was pathetic, but his reaction speed had not been. He had almost raised his wand at the same time as Snape. A complete fraud should not have moved like that.

Lockhart climbed back onto the platform, staggering but determined to save face.

"An excellent demonstration," he said loudly. "Professor Snape and I agreed in advance to show you the Disarming Charm. There was a slight... excess of enthusiasm."

Snape's expression promised murder. Lockhart wisely changed the subject. "Now, let us pair off-"

"Potter," Snape interrupted. "Up here."

His eyes shifted. "And you, Malfoy."

Draco walked onto the stage with a cold smile. Harry followed without hesitation, and for once he did not look frightened.

They bowed. Lockhart called for them to begin.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cast first.

The spell flew wide. He had moved quickly, but nerves spoiled his aim. Draco's eyes widened. Harry was faster than he expected, and Harry knew the Disarming Charm. Draco snapped back with a leg-weakening jinx.

The spell struck Harry, and his knees nearly gave way beneath him.

"Tarantallegra!" Harry shot back through gritted teeth.

Draco's legs began to dance against his will.

Edmund watched in silence. Harry had learned several useful spells over the past months, yet the moment he stepped onto the platform, he reached for every childish jinx he knew. The fight became a burst of colored sparks, twitching limbs, and bruised pride.

Snape eventually lost patience. He ended the effects on both boys and ordered them to start over.

"Serpensortia!" Draco shouted.

The tip of his wand flared, and a long black snake spilled onto the platform. Several students shrieked and backed away.

Harry barely reacted.

Edmund had used enough snakes in Parseltongue practice that a single conjured snake no longer impressed him. Harry's first instinct was to command it in Parseltongue, then he remembered Edmund's warning against using that talent in public.

"Incendio!"

A burst of flame struck the snake. It writhed, hissed, and collapsed into a charred coil. Harry followed at once.

"Levicorpus!"

Draco shot into the air by one ankle. Before he could recover, Harry hit him with a clean Disarming Charm. Draco's wand spun into Harry's hand.

"I won," Harry said, unable to hide his grin.

"Gryffindor loses one point," Snape snapped.

Harry's grin vanished. "What?"

"You were instructed to practice the Disarming Charm. Not every spell in your limited imagination."

Snape's glare moved past Harry and landed on Edmund.

Edmund only shrugged. Snape would eventually teach Harry that spell through the Prince's notebook in this version of the world. Edmund had merely moved the schedule forward.

Draco came down from the air pale and silent. He looked at Harry once, then turned away with his jaw tight.

Harry returned to Edmund expecting praise.

"If you had cast a Shield Charm first," Edmund said, "you could have walked through most of Malfoy's spells and ended the duel at once. Instead, you blocked curses with your body like an idiot."

Harry deflated. Before he could answer, a voice rang out from the crowd.

"Edmund Gaunt. Will you accept my duel?"

The hall erupted.

The boy who had spoken was tall, composed, and unmistakably Slytherin. Edmund recognized the name whispered around him.

Simon Travers.

He was a seventh-year, the current student leader of Slytherin, and the holder of a private title the House treated with real respect: Shadow Prefect. Each year, the strongest student in Slytherin was expected to guide and dominate their peers. Simon had held that position since first year.

In other words, he was probably the strongest student in Hogwarts. Excluding Edmund.

Fred leaned close. "Don't accept. Dad said Travers duels dark wizards with his family during holidays. He isn't just showing off."

Edmund smiled. Under the eyes of the whole hall, he walked onto the platform. For a heartbeat, the scene had the absurd weight of a championship match.

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