"Is this all you've got, Potter?"
Draco shifted his stance, effortlessly dodging a red beam of light that came hurtling toward him. He didn't waste time with more verbal taunts or give his opponent a chance to react. With a swift raise of his hand, he cast a Banishing Charm.
Harry narrowly twisted away from the spell, which made his hair stand on end, but the effort left him off-balance and exhausted, causing him to tumble to the ground.
Draco, of course, wouldn't let such an opportunity slip away. Pressing his advantage, he immediately cast a Disarming Charm, sending Harry's wand flying out of his hand.
Harry's wand spun through the air toward Draco, who casually raised his left hand to catch it. Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist, sending the wand back toward Harry.
"What kind of spellcasting is that? Your movements are so obvious, you don't even try to hide your intentions. You stare straight at my right hand—anyone with half a brain could guess what you're planning next."
"Can't you give me a little pressure? Honestly, fighting you is so uninspiring that I'd rather just practice on my own somewhere."
"If you don't step up your game, you won't even be able to challenge me soon with your ranking dropping so low."
Draco crossed his arms and sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. Although his words were sharp, it was clear he was subtly pointing out Harry's mistakes, offering advice in his own twisted way.
This was already Harry's third attempt to duel Draco in the Dueling Club. The first two times had ended in crushing defeats for Harry. This time, though he managed to hold out until his stamina was exhausted, he still couldn't escape losing the duel.
That said, Harry was still among the top tier of second-year students. His exceptional magical talent had allowed him to absorb what he learned from previous Dueling Club sessions, unlocking more of his potential and earning him a spot among the year's rising stars.
But that was as far as it went. For those ranked among the top fifty wizards at Hogwarts, Harry's spellcasting was still too raw, too immature to pose any real threat.
Draco, on the other hand, was currently ranked forty-first in the entire school.
Since the Dueling Club's matches had only recently begun, the rankings among wizards of the same age hadn't diverged significantly yet. This allowed Harry, with his relatively high ranking, to challenge Draco.
But Harry was essentially handing Draco free wins.
Unable to accept defeat, Harry kept challenging wizards close to his ranking, gradually climbing higher before challenging Draco again—only to lose every time.
Draco was growing exasperated. Even though his attitude toward Harry and Ron had softened somewhat since his shift in perspective—at least, as far as Draco himself was concerned—anyone would find it aggravating to have a rival who did little to hone their magical skills occupying their time, preventing them from challenging stronger opponents.
It was important to note that lower-ranked challengers couldn't be refused by higher-ranked wizards. Moreover, even if the higher-ranked wizard won, their ranking wouldn't improve.
While rankings were important to Draco—an opportunity to showcase the glory of the Malfoy family—his real interest lay in refining his spellcasting and dueling skills.
So Harry needed to show some self-awareness!!!!
Sitting on the ground, gasping for breath, Harry caught the wand Draco had tossed back at him with a single hand, his expression complicated.
Though Harry was prone to hotheadedness, he wasn't stupid. Draco's taunts just now weren't merely insults like in the past; they were pointing out genuine flaws.
Harry had noticed the changes in Draco—all of them. His academic progress, his growing strength, his refined demeanor… well, maybe not so much his words. Draco's remarks were still infuriating, always making people want to punch him. But still…
Draco had undeniably changed.
"Have you had enough sitting around? Why are you still standing there? Get lost already."
Then came Draco's dismissive wave, like he was shooing away flies, instantly wiping away any budding goodwill Harry might have felt toward him.
Changed, my foot! He's still as insufferable as ever!!!!
Harry's face darkened, but he didn't let his anger get the better of him. After all, he knew full well that he'd been outmatched. He wasn't delusional about his abilities.
"I'll challenge you again. Just wait for me."
Though he hadn't fully recovered, Harry forced himself to his feet. Since Malfoy had issued such an unwelcoming dismissal, Harry couldn't afford to lose his dignity. He straightened up and summoned his remaining energy.
Harry's green eyes locked with Draco's narrowed gray ones. The tension between them sparked in the air—an intense clash of mutual animosity.
Both of them snorted simultaneously. Harry turned without hesitation, leaving the dueling stage and heading to the rest area, where refreshments were provided to restore magical energy and stamina for Dueling Club participants.
"Finished over there too? How'd it go?"
At the table, a red-haired boy handed Harry a glass filled with a prepared drink.
It was Ron.
"Same as before."
Harry replied grumpily, taking the glass and downing the drink in one go.
Only to choke on it.
"Cough! Cough!"
"Honestly, I'd love to beat that arrogant git to a pulp, but I think we should focus on honing our skills step by step first."
Ron lightly patted Harry's back, looking somewhat resigned.
Ron had, of course, challenged Draco as well, rushing in even faster than Harry. But after suffering two humiliating defeats, he had grudgingly accepted that he needed to start from scratch.
His fundamentals were even weaker than Harry's. Although his frustration had driven him to seriously study spellcasting, his battles against wizards with similar rankings were still hit-or-miss. Even as his win rate improved, the duels remained long and grueling.
These prolonged, evenly matched battles had forced Ron's fiery temper to cool. Though he was still bitter, he recognized that this approach was the right one.
"If only I'd studied seriously at the start of term, I'd be in the top fifty by now instead of that big-headed git. Imagine how glorious that'd be."
Ron seemed lost in his fantasies again. Harry didn't bother interrupting him. He slumped into the seat beside Ron, his body relaxing as he leaned back, letting his thoughts drift while staring blankly at the ceiling.
"Huh?"
It wasn't entirely blank.
Before his mind could fully unwind, Harry's attention snapped back, drawn to something unusual on the ceiling.
"Ron, don't you think there are more spiders up there than usual?"
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