Draco Malfoy was furious.
Only a few minutes earlier he had stood among the Slytherin students and waited for Professor Snape to humiliate Leon Cromwell.
Snape was the Head of Slytherin and a master of dark magic.
Even Lucius Malfoy treated his abilities with respect.
Draco had been certain that Snape would crush the arrogant young professor like an insect.
Instead, Snape had lost.
Draco had watched the entire duel.
Snape’s terrifying cutting curse had struck the enormous force hand.
Yet Leon’s spell survived long enough to smash through Snape’s defenses and leave him kneeling on the stage.
“This is impossible.” Draco stared at Leon’s dark blue robes while his fingers tightened around his wand.
“How could that crude magic defeat Professor Snape?” He remembered mocking Leon’s lessons.
He had even imitated the professor’s combat spells with Crabbe and Goyle inside the Slytherin common room.
Now Draco felt like the joke.
He had always respected strength above everything else.
Watching Leon defeat Snape left him with a confusing mixture of resentment and reluctant admiration.
“Thank you for that excellent demonstration, Professor Snape.” Leon’s voice pulled Draco from his thoughts.
The professor acted as though defeating one of Britain’s finest duelists had been nothing unusual.
“Now it is your turn.
Find a partner and begin practicing.
Remember that this is training.
Stop before anyone is seriously injured.” The Great Hall erupted with excited voices.
Neville Longbottom looked terrified as students began pairing off.
Harry stood nearby with his wand in hand and seemed ready to practice with Hermione.
An irrational surge of anger swept through Draco.
Why was Potter always so fortunate?
Why did everyone watch him?
Why had Professor Cromwell taken such an interest in him from the first lesson?
Snape’s defeat had been an accident.
Draco Malfoy would not lose to Harry Potter.
“I’ll be your opponent.” Draco stepped between Harry and Hermione.
He raised his chin and displayed his usual mocking smile.
“The famous Harry Potter isn’t afraid to duel me, is he?” Disgust flashed across Harry’s green eyes.
He turned and raised his wand.
“I’d be delighted, Malfoy.” The two boys climbed onto the center of the stage.
The students around them slowly fell silent as word spread that Potter and Malfoy were about to fight.
Leon stood near the edge of the platform.
“Raise your wands.
Prepare yourselves.” Harry and Draco faced each other.
“One.
Two—” “Expelliarmus!” Draco attacked before Leon finished counting.
A red bolt shot from his wand.
Harry threw himself to the left and avoided it by inches.
He aimed his wand while still moving.
“Rictusempra!” A silver beam struck Draco in the stomach.
Sharp discomfort spread through his body and forced him to bend forward.
Before he could recover, Harry cast the Tickling Charm a second time.
“Rictusempra!” The spell struck Draco again.
An uncontrollable fit of laughter seized him.
His knees hit the stage while his entire body shook.
He could barely breathe and his wand hand had become almost useless.
Harry stopped attacking because he believed the duel was over.
Draco noticed the hesitation.
He kept laughing and pretended that he was still helpless.
At the same time he tightened his fingers around his wand.
The moment Harry lowered his guard, Draco aimed at him.
“Tarantallegra!” Harry’s legs began moving on their own.
His feet kicked and twisted across the platform in a ridiculous dance that he could not stop.
“That’s what you get for losing focus during a duel!” Draco shouted.
He forced himself upright and prepared another spell.
Harry struggled against the dancing curse.
His green eyes remained fixed on Draco.
“Magic Missile!” Three crimson darts erupted from his wand.
Draco tried to dodge.
The missiles changed direction and followed him through the air.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
All three struck his chest.
Harry’s missiles were far weaker than the ones Leon had used against Snape.
Even so, taking them without a shield felt like being punched three times by a troll.
Pain spread through Draco’s ribs.
The final impact lifted him from the stage and sent him flying backward.
It’s over.
Draco closed his eyes as the floor disappeared beneath him.
Everyone saw me lose.
A hand caught him firmly by the back of his robes before he struck the ground.
The force of his fall vanished at once.
Draco opened his eyes and found Leon Cromwell standing behind him with a faint smile.
“You achieved impressive height, Mr.
Malfoy.” Leon set him back on his feet.
His tone sounded neither mocking nor complimentary.
Draco’s face burned with humiliation.
“Let go of me!” He slapped Leon’s hand away.
“I haven’t lost.
Potter caught me off guard!” “Of course you haven’t lost.” Leon adjusted his silver-framed glasses and studied the disheveled Slytherin.
“But tell me something, Draco.
Do you truly believe throwing spells like a brute suits you?” Draco paused.
“What are you talking about?” “I have been observing you.” Leon lowered his voice so the other students could not hear.
“You are not suited to overwhelming opponents through instinct and raw power like Potter.
Your greatest weapon is your voice.” “My voice?” “Your confidence.
Your arrogance.
Your ability to make others furious with only a few words.” Leon nodded toward Harry.
The dancing curse was finally beginning to weaken.
“For some spellcasters, language can be sharper than any blade.
Instead of wasting your insults, channel magic through them.” He briefly explained how a Bard could bind arcane power to spoken mockery.
“That is how certain Bards fight.
You want to defeat Potter, don’t you?
There is no harm in trying.” Channel magic through an insult?
Draco stared at Leon in disbelief.
Then he looked toward Harry.
He was not willing to surrender.
Draco gritted his teeth and climbed back onto the platform.
Harry finally broke free from the dancing curse.
He stood with his chest rising heavily and watched Draco approach.
“Want to go flying again, Malfoy?” Draco remembered Leon’s words.
Your voice is your weapon.
He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his wand.
Magic flowed from his body and vibrated through his throat.
“Are you feeling all right, Scarhead?” The words were not especially loud.
Yet they carried a strange force that seemed to explode inside Harry’s mind.
“That dance was pathetic.
You looked like a troll trying to perform ballet.” Arcane power entered every syllable.
[Vicious Mockery] Harry froze before he could complete his next spell.
His face turned pale.
He clutched his head as psychic pain tore through his thoughts.
The light gathering at the tip of his wand faded.
“It worked.” Draco stared at his own hand in amazement.
A few mocking words had stopped Harry’s attack.
This was the kind of power that suited him.
Professor Cromwell had been right.
Confidence surged through Draco’s chest.
He looked at Harry as the other boy struggled against the pain and decided that one insult was not enough.
He would finish the duel and destroy Potter’s dignity in front of the entire school.
Draco lifted his wand over his shoulder.
“Serpensortia—” His eyes met Harry’s.
Draco had insulted Harry countless times since their first year.
He had never seen that expression before.
It was more than anger.
Burning rage filled Harry’s emerald eyes and seemed ready to break free.
“Shut up.” Harry’s voice was quiet and cold.
Draco stumbled backward.
His confidence vanished.
A sudden and unexplainable fear seized his chest.
Heat spread through his body.
Before he could move, dark green flames erupted around him.
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