"As you can all see," Lockhart rambled on, "Headmaster Dumbledore has specially approved the creation of this Duelling Club so that you can master the art of self-defense—just as I described in Magical Me. Of course, for more detailed case studies, I recommend purchasing my complete works...."

For the next half hour, the Great Hall echoed with Lockhart's incessant self-aggrandizement.

It wasn't until yawns began to ripple through the audience that he finally gestured behind him, spending a mere ten seconds to introduce Professor Snape: "Oh, right, I almost forgot to introduce this—this is Professor Snape. He claims to 'know a thing or two' about duelling and is 'honoured' to assist me with the demonstration."

Lockhart flashed his signature dazzling smile. "But rest assured, I will be careful and won't harm a single hair on your dear Potions Professor."

"I actually hope something goes wrong," Ron whispered to Harry, "preferably they both get injured and end up in the school infirmary for a few days."

"Yeah.. Preferably until the end of this term…" Harry couldn't help but add.

On the stage, the two Professors finally took their stances.

Lockhart gave an exaggerated bow, his hands tracing elaborate patterns in the air as if saluting a monarch.

In contrast, Snape merely gave an extremely impatient, almost insulting, slight shake of his greasy head.

"We are going to start! Watch closely," Lockhart held his wand upright against his chest, like a sword. "A formal duel requires a bow first, then holding the wand like this."

He turned to Snape. "We will cast the first spell on the count of three. Haha, of course, this is just a demonstration; neither of us will be in any real danger."

A cold sneer formed on Snape's face, and a dangerous glint flickered in his dark eyes.

The students below held their breath in unison.

They had no doubt about Lockhart's words—what they doubted was whether Snape would "accidentally" miss and silence the verbose Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor forever.

"One… two… three!"

Both Professors raised their wands, and Snape's low voice rang out almost simultaneously with the count: "Expelliarmus!"

A dazzling red light burst from his wand, striking Lockhart square in the chest.

"Ahh—! Thud"

With a muffled thud, Lockhart was sent flying like a ragdoll, tracing a pathetic arc through the air before crashing heavily into the stone wall five metres away.

His wand spun into the air, flying off so quickly that no one had time to react.

At least it was much shorter than the time he took introducing Snape.

"Merlin's beard!" Ron gasped, instinctively clutching his own chest. "That must've hurt like hell!"

Harry stood on tiptoe, peering over the crowd. "Too bad it doesn't look like it did much damage…"

Hermione simply shook her head helplessly, her lips twitching as she turned away.

Lockhart was curled up in a corner by the wall, his long golden hair scattered across his face.

For a moment, he actually considered faking unconsciousness to escape this "performance mishap."

But in the end, he trembled and propped himself up—his robes were covered in dust, and his meticulously styled hair now looked like a bird's nest after an explosion.

"Ahem… As you can all see!" He stumbled back onto the stage, his voice trembling with pain, "This is the famous Expelliarmus… As the name suggests, its effect is to… uh… my wand… where's my wand… Has anyone seen my wand?"

Swoosh!

A dark raven suddenly swooped down from the sky, clutching the ornate, gem-encrusted wand in its beak, circling above Lockhart's head.

"Hey! Give it back!" Lockhart shouted, jumping up and down like a comical clown. "You damned feathered beast! That's a limited-edition wand!"

After a while, Lockhart finally seemed to realise his gaffe. He gave up the chase, dejectedly forcing a smile as he turned back to the students:

"A.. ahem.. That's right! This is precisely the demonstration segment that Professor Snape and I meticulously designed! I voluntarily took that spell to help you all better understand the effect of the Expelliarmus…"

As he spoke, he turned to Snape, suddenly regaining his confident tone: "But allow me to say, dear Severus, your intent just now was far too obvious. If I had truly wanted to defend, it would've been effortless…"

Snape's gaze instantly became colder than the dungeons—not because of Lockhart, but because Sagres was walking in through the Great Hall doors, heading straight for the center of the stage.

"Uh, Sagres, now is…" Lockhart's voice involuntarily trailed off.

Sagres didn't even lift an eyelid, freezing Lockhart in place with a single cold glance. "You," he tapped his wand lightly, "stand over there."

Lockhart forced a smile uglier than a cry and awkwardly shuffled to Snape's side.

The sight of them standing together looked like feuding enemies forced to attend the same funeral.

Sagres gave a slight nod, and the raven swooped down, accurately dropping the wand into Lockhart's trembling hand.

"If you're going to teach duelling," Sagres's voice was cold and serious, "then teach the complete set."

The entire Great Hall instantly erupted.

The Young Wizards stood on tiptoe, pushing forward, eyes gleaming with excitement.

Professor Flitwick scurried to the front row, and Professor McGonagall's glasses reflected a sharp gleam of curiosity.

Even Madam Pomfrey rushed over with her medical kit, muttering, "Merlin preserve us."

"Before you wave your wand, remember three words." Sagres lightly twirled his wand, tracing three scarlet lines in the air. "Attack, defense, evade."

He swept his gaze across the eager faces in the crowd, his voice suddenly sharp: "The essence of duelling is the dynamic cycle of these three—not a turn-based game where you cast spells one at a time!"

Before his words had even faded, his wand suddenly erupted in dazzling light.

Six streams of spell light shot out like a rainbow, weaving a deadly net in the air— Woosh!

"Two against one." Sagres's voice cut through the whoosh of spells. "Now, first teach them how to evade."

Snape's face was so dark it looked like it could drip water. He immediately rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the powerful spell lights.

This wasn't out of any willingness to cooperate with Sagres—rather, the magical fluctuations contained in those interwoven lights were not something an ordinary Shield Charm could block. One or two, maybe—but all six? Impossible.

Lockhart, not far away, wasn't nearly as agile.

He still held his comical defensive stance, and before he could even react, a red spell light struck his chest again, sending him flying.

"Evade!"

Sagres's voice echoed through the Great Hall. With a flick of his wand, he forcibly pulled Lockhart back mid-air, setting him upright again like a puppet.

"—means avoiding spells through movement, cover, or even trajectory prediction! If you don't want to become a living target in a duel, then absolutely do not stand there like a wooden stake!"

Before the last word had even faded, Sagres spun his wand, and thousands of magical birds suddenly erupted around him with a shrill whistle.

These glowing magical constructs screeched through the air, sweeping toward the two opponents like a blizzard.

______

o(*≧▽≦)ツ💫Support & read up to 12+ chapters ahead on P@treon/DarkDevil1👉 Join to get early access and exclusive content!✨