The announcement arrived at breakfast.
Students had barely settled into their seats when Professor Lockhart rose dramatically from the staff table. The golden morning light shining through the enchanted ceiling seemed to follow him as though the castle itself had reluctantly agreed to participate in his performance. Conversations slowly died away as students looked toward the professor. Some appeared interested. Most appeared wary. A few looked actively concerned. After nearly two months of Lockhart's lessons, the student body had developed a healthy skepticism toward anything that began with the phrase, "I have an exciting announcement."
Lockhart beamed, "Students!" His voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, "I am pleased to announce the formation of a Dueling Club!"
A ripple of excitement spread through the hall.
That, admittedly, sounded useful.
Even Snape glanced up from his breakfast.
Lockhart spread his arms dramatically, "There will be demonstrations!" Another pause, "Instruction!" Another pause, "And opportunities to witness genuine dueling expertise!"
Several students exchanged looks.
Draco immediately leaned toward Mira, "He's going to embarrass himself."
Mira took a sip of pumpkin juice, "Almost certainly."
At the staff table, Snape looked as though he had just been informed that he would be spending an evening trapped in a room with a dozen Blast-Ended Skrewts.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled suspiciously.
McGonagall looked resigned.
Flitwick appeared entertained.
The trap had already been sprung.
The unfortunate victim simply didn't know it yet.
That afternoon, the Great Hall had been transformed.
The house tables had vanished.
In their place stood a large, raised dueling platform draped in rich purple fabric. Hundreds of candles floated above the gathering students, their flames reflecting off polished stone and silver decorations. The room buzzed with anticipation. First-years crowded near the front while older students positioned themselves where they could best witness whatever disaster awaited. The Chamber of Secrets remained a source of fear throughout Hogwarts, and for once the prospect of a dueling demonstration offered welcome distraction.
Lockhart strode onto the platform.
Naturally.
He was wearing robes even more extravagant than usual.
They sparkled.
Actually sparkled.
The man looked less like a dueling instructor and more like someone preparing for a theatrical performance.
Lockhart waves his arms about to get everyone's attention, as if it wasn't on him already, looking like he was trying to hit a bug from the air. "gather round, gather round! can everyone see me? can you all hear? Excellent! Now Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full detail, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a tiny bit of duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - You'll still have you potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
Snape's eye twitched.
Very slightly.
Several Slytherins noticed.
Most tried not to laugh.
The duel began.
Lockhart flourished his wand dramatically.
Snape simply raised his.
The contrast was almost comical.
One looked like an actor.
The other looked like a predator.
Students leaned forward.
Anticipation filled the hall.
Lockhart smiled confidently, "Now, Severus—"
"Expelliarmus!" The spell left Snape's wand like lightning.
No warning.
No hesitation.
No theatrics.
Just precision.
Lockhart barely had time to blink.
The force struck him squarely in the chest.
The world seemed to pause.
Then Lockhart flew backward.
His feet left the platform.
His arms windmilled wildly.
His wand shot across the hall.
The professor crashed into the stage floor with enough force to rattle the platform.
Gasps erupted throughout the room.
Several students burst into laughter.
Lockhart groaned.
Snape lowered his wand.
The duel had lasted less than three seconds.
Draco began counting, "One..."
Theo joined in, "Two..."
Blaise smirked, "Three."
"A new record."
Lockhart eventually staggered upright.
His hair was crooked.
His robes were twisted.
His dignity had departed entirely.
Yet somehow he continued smiling.
It was the desperate smile of a man trying to convince everyone—including himself—that everything was under control.
"Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - Ah, Thank you, Miss Brown. Yes an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..." He trails off at Snape's murderous look.
Mira, Draco, Theo, Blaise and Daphen see Snape smirk in satisfaction when Lockhart gulps loudly.
Snape folded his arms. "Perhaps."
The Potions Master's dark eyes swept over the crowd, "One of the students should demonstrate."
Lockhart immediately brightened.
A student.
Excellent.
Someone less likely to launch him across the room.
"Splendid idea!"
Snape's gaze settled upon the Slytherin section.
Specifically—
"Mira Silverthorne."
The hall immediately erupted.
Students turned.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
Mira calmly walked over to the platform.
Draco grinned.
Theo looked excited.
The Weasley twins practically vibrated with anticipation.
Lockhart's confidence began evaporating.
A ripple of silver-blue light flowed around Mira.
Students watched in fascination.
Her school robes vanished.
In their place appeared her training attire.
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{A/N: What the training outfit looks like}
A fitted black combat uniform.
Dark trousers designed for unrestricted movement.
A reinforced black corset.
Tall leather boots.
A practical belt.
Her Vaelori Conduit on her right wrist.
Everything about the outfit emphasized function over appearance.
No loose fabric.
No unnecessary decoration.
Just equipment designed for combat.
The hall fell strangely quiet.
Even older students stared.
Something about the transformation changed the atmosphere.
Mira no longer looked like a second-year student.
She looked prepared.
Lockhart noticed.
His confidence sank further.
"Professor." Mira inclined her head politely.
Lockhart swallowed, "Miss Silverthorne."
The dueling platform suddenly felt much smaller.
Students crowded closer.
Snape stepped aside.
His expression remained unreadable.
Though inwardly, he was curious.
Most of the staff knew Mira possessed unusual magical talent.
Few had witnessed her combat training.
Lockhart attempted a reassuring smile, "Remember, this is merely a demonstration."
Mira nodded, "Of course."
Then she settled into a stance.
Students immediately noticed the difference.
Her posture changed.
Weight balanced.
Shoulders relaxed.
Feet positioned carefully.
Every movement economical.
Precise.
Controlled.
Lockhart simply stood there.
The contrast was startling.
The duel began.
Lockhart attacked first.
A flash of blue magic shot across the platform.
Mira moved.
Not fast.
Not dramatically.
Simply one smooth sidesteps.
The spell missed entirely.
It struck the platform behind her.
Splinters exploded from the wood.
Students gasped.
Mira continued moving.
Her footwork flowed effortlessly.
Every step deliberate.
Every shift calculated.
Lockhart fired another spell.
Then another.
Then another.
Mira avoided each one.
No wand.
No shield.
Only movement.
The environment itself became part of the duel.
She used shadows.
Angles.
Distance.
Lockhart increasingly resembled a man trying to catch smoke.
Frustration began appearing on his face.
Students noticed.
So did Mira.
A second later, the floor beneath Lockhart’s feet shifted. He yelped as he lost his balance, stumbling forward—only for Mira to step in close, twist his wrist with a clean, practiced motion, and send him sprawling onto his back.
She released him instantly and stepped away.
The room was dead silent.
Draco’s brain completely short-circuited.
Lockhart scrambled up, red-faced. “Physical combat? Really? That’s hardly—”
He swung blindly.
Mira ducked, pivoted, and used his own momentum to flip him over her shoulder. Lockhart hit the mat with a wheeze.
Theo, observing from the side, murmured dryly, “I give it twenty seconds.”
Blaise, Draco and Daphne did not correct him.
Lockhart staggered to his feet, panic creeping into his smile. “All right, then! Let’s see how you handle real magic!”
He fired a spell.
Mira deflected it—still nonverbal—then flicked her wrist. The spell rebounded, narrowly missing Lockhart’s head and blasting a banner off the wall.
His voice cracked. “Careful! You’ll hurt someone!”
Mira exhaled once.
Lockhart cast another spell.
Mira raised one hand.
The air shimmered.
The spell simply stopped.
Suspended.
Frozen.
Gasps erupted throughout the hall.
Then the magic unraveled.
Dissolving into harmless sparks.
No wand.
No incantation.
No visible effort.
Lockhart stared.
Students stared.
Snape's eyes narrowed slightly.
Nonverbal magic.
Wandless magic.
Both together.
Even among adult witches and wizards, such skill was rare.
Among second-years?
Nearly unheard of.
Lockhart attacked again.
This time Mira closed the distance.
The movement happened almost too quickly to follow.
One moment she stood several yards away.
The next she stood directly in front of him.
Lockhart stumbled backward.
Too late.
Mira pivoted.
A precise strike landed against his wrist.
His wand nearly flew free.
Another movement.
Another strike.
His balance disappeared.
Students winced.
The impacts weren't brutal.
They didn't need to be.
Every motion targeted leverage.
Positioning.
Control.
Lockhart suddenly found himself fighting someone who understood exactly how bodies moved.
And exactly how to stop them moving.
The duel continued.
Long enough for sweat to appear on Lockhart's forehead.
Long enough for his breathing to grow heavier.
Long enough for students to realize this wasn't even close.
Meanwhile, Mira remained calm.
Focused.
Every step measured.
Every action efficient.
The platform became a chessboard.
Lockhart kept reacting.
Mira kept controlling.
The difference grew more obvious with every passing second.
Eventually, even Lockhart understood.
He wasn't demonstrating.
He was surviving.
Finally, Mira stopped moving.
The hall fell silent.
Lockhart looked exhausted.
Hair disheveled.
Robes wrinkled.
Confidence shattered.
Mira raised one hand.
Silver-blue magic gathered around her fingertips.
The light shimmered.
Soft.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
Lockhart froze.
"What are you doing?"
Mira smiled politely.
Then snapped her fingers.
The spell struck.
A burst of pink light engulfed Lockhart.
Students shielded their eyes.
The hall filled with sparkling magic.
Then silence.
Complete silence.
Where Lockhart had stood—
There now sat a pink plush teddy bear.
A very surprised pink plush teddy bear.
The hall exploded.
Students screamed with laughter.
The Weasley twins collapsed against one another.
Draco nearly fell off the platform.
Theo couldn't breathe.
Even some professors looked dangerously close to laughing.
Snape turned away.
Very slowly.
No one could prove it.
But several students swore they saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.
For one glorious moment.
And at the center of the platform, Mira Silverthorne stood calmly while an outraged pink teddy bear squeaked helplessly at her feet. The Dueling Club had lasted exactly one meeting before becoming legendary. By the following morning, every student in Hogwarts would know the story. Gilderoy Lockhart had challenged a second-year. The second-year had dueled without a wand. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had lost so thoroughly that he finished the evening as a stuffed toy. It was, many agreed, the most educational Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson they had received all year.
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and then Add to home screen.