The old dueling hall was lit by rows of torches that cast a uniform glow on the floor. Flitwick waited in the center, wand already in hand and a smile that mixed cordiality with the anticipation of a teacher ready to demand the best from his students.
"Before we begin, Mr. Gaunt, there is something you should know," said the small professor, adopting a more serious tone than usual. "A few years ago... well, more than a few," he corrected himself with a flash of humor. "I was a dueling champion. I traveled and participated in more tournaments than I can count."
Aurelian raised an eyebrow.
"World champion?"
"Exactly," Flitwick replied with a slight gesture of pride. "I haven't reached the rank of Invoker, but my magical control is refined enough to have defeated several of them. Rank isn't everything, Mr. Gaunt. Technique, ingenuity, and precision are just as powerful weapons."
Aurelian nodded, processing the information. If Flitwick had managed to defeat higher-level wizards, then he could teach him much more than simple wand movements.
"So today I'm not going to hold back," the professor continued, climbing onto the dueling platform. "I want to see how you adapt to unforeseen situations."
Hestia and Flora watched from a corner, sitting on a side bench. Neither took their eyes off Aurelian, although their attention tensed every time Flitwick adopted an offensive stance.
"Get ready, Gaunt," announced the diminutive champion, his wand pointing firmly at him. "Don't think that because of my height I'm going to go easy on you."
Aurelian smiled slightly and raised his wand.
"I expected nothing less, Professor."
Flitwick began the duel with a movement so swift that Aurelian could barely see it as a flash of light. The first spell bounced off his shield, but the second came immediately from an impossible angle, as if the professor had calculated in advance where his defense would be.
"Too predictable," Flitwick commented affably, spinning around to cast three spells in quick succession.
Aurelian responded by deflecting two of them and absorbing the third with a denser magic shield, but that required more concentration than he had expected. The small teacher moved with surprising agility, taking advantage of every inch of the platform as if he were dancing.
The flashes of magical light multiplied. Flitwick was not only casting offensive spells, but also alternating with transfigurations: the ground beneath Aurelian's feet became slippery, his shield was transmuted into a solid disc that flew off to one side, and a burst of sparks momentarily blinded him.
Aurelian blinked, feeling that the margin for error was narrowing.
"All right... if that's how you want to play it," he muttered, barely audibly.
The pressure increased, and for the first time since he began his magical training, he felt that "conventional" magic was not enough to keep up. Then he activated his internal magic, where his absolute control of magic could shape his imagination. The infinite.
His eyes lit up with a more intense flash, the air around him tensed, as if an invisible current protected him. Flitwick's next blast stopped inches from his body, dissolving as if it had hit an invisible wall.
Flitwick opened his eyes with a mixture of surprise and delight.
"Oh... this is getting interesting."
Aurelian did not respond. He moved his wand with clean, perfect strokes: a concentrated beam shot out, forcing the professor to erect a reinforced shield. The sound of the impact echoed throughout the classroom.
Hestia and Flora rose from their bench, astonished, watching as Aurelian now dictated the pace of the duel.
The exchange continued for a few more minutes, until Flitwick raised a hand and lowered his wand.
"Hold on there, Mr. Gaunt." His voice held no reproach, but rather a clear spark of fascination. "What you did just now, I've never seen in a student before. Not even in an adult dueler."
Aurelian slowly lowered his wand and let the magical tension dissipate.
"It's a kind of... Protego," he replied calmly, as if it were nothing special. "Just a variation I developed to... divert the opponent's attention."
Flitwick looked at him with suspicion and a hint of admiration.
"Variation, you say." He smiled slightly. "Well, it's a variation that could save your life. It doesn't look like a common shield, and yet it's not inherently defensive, which is very curious. Very curious."
Aurelian simply shrugged, saying nothing more.
Hestia and Flora crossed the classroom to reach him, not caring that training had not yet officially ended.
"Impressive," said Flora, with a smile.
"I knew no one would be able to beat you," added Hestia, giving him a proud look.
Flitwick, still smiling, made a mental note not to push that "Protego" too hard, at least for now.
"Well, Mr. Gaunt, that will be enough for today. But be prepared, in the tournament, your opponent won't stop to admire your tricks."
Aurelian nodded calmly.
"I'll keep that in mind, professor."
Dumbledore's office was lit by the warm light coming in through the windows and a few floating lamps. The air smelled of fresh ink and herbal tea. Flitwick stood in front of the desk while the headmaster carefully reviewed a letter.
"So it's official," said Dumbledore, setting the parchment aside. "You've decided to take Aurelian to the international under-14 tournament in France."
Flitwick smiled and nodded.
"He has the talent, the precision... but above all, creativity, something I rarely see even in adult wizards. I couldn't pass up this opportunity."
"I don't doubt it," replied Dumbledore, settling into his chair. "But talent, Filius, always attracts attention... not all of it benevolent. France, at an international event, means exposing him to the magical world beyond our borders."
Flitwick tilted his head.
"I know, and that's why I plan to accompany him and train him until the last day. Not just so he wins, but so he understands how to handle that kind of pressure."
Dumbledore interlaced his fingers.
"I'm concerned that the 'creativity' you mention could be misinterpreted. The boy has unusual power."
The diminutive professor let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I've noticed. But I also think he has remarkable control for his age. If anyone can surprise us in that tournament, it's him."
Dumbledore watched him silently for a moment, then nodded with an almost imperceptible smile.
"Very well, Filius. Train him as you see fit. But keep your eyes open. Scenarios like that can bring out both the best and worst in a wizard."
"I will, Headmaster," replied Flitwick, with a slight nod.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, but his gaze took on a more serious tone.
"And, Filius... if anything unexpected happens, I want you to contact me immediately. No matter the time or place."
Flitwick looked at him for a few seconds, realizing that this was no ordinary warning.
"Do you think there could be trouble, Albus?"
"I don't like to be pessimistic," replied Dumbledore, in his usual soft tone that masked his concern, "but you know as well as I do that Marianne Elsenburg will not miss any opportunity to make moves on the international stage... and especially if I am involved, her attitude towards me is not exactly friendly."
Flitwick frowned.
"I know. I've seen how she behaves at International Confederation meetings. Always looking to pull strings to her advantage, always trying to show that her methods are superior."
"And if she sees Aurelian as a valuable resource..." Dumbledore left the sentence unfinished, but the implication was clear.
Flitwick nodded slowly.
"I understand the warning. I'll be on the lookout for any maneuvers by Elsenburg... or anyone else who tries to approach the boy with ulterior motives."
"That's all I ask," Dumbledore concluded, with a slight smile that failed to completely erase the caution in his eyes.
Flitwick descended the spiral staircase leading to the headmaster's office, listening to the faint creaking of the steps beneath his feet. Dumbledore's warning echoed in his mind like a persistent echo.
Archmage Marianne Elsenburg.
Her reputation was not limited to her impressive magical ability; she was a political strategist, a woman who had risen to her position in continental Europe through a combination of talent, cunning, and a calculated coldness that intimidated even her most experienced colleagues.
He still didn't fully understand why she had so much tension with Albus. The headmaster had never been one to share much about his past... he sincerely hoped it was just something superficial and not an enmity from the first magical war...
Flitwick knew that, in an international tournament, eyes were not fixed solely on victories or defeats. Young talents could be courted, manipulated... and even snatched from their environment with the right promises, and Aurelian Gunt, with his power, intelligence, and surname, would be an attractive target for anyone with ambitions, even more so with what he had been achieving with his company GauntCorp.
The diminutive professor quickened his pace.
"It won't be enough to train him to win," he muttered to himself. "He'll have to learn to defend himself against everything that isn't thrown with a wand."
When he arrived at his office, he took out a notebook and began to draw up a more demanding training plan. He would add practices with unconventional spells, magical endurance exercises, and dueling simulations in which he would have to adapt to changing environments. He wanted Aurelian to be ready so that when he stepped onto the arena in France, no trick, no matter how elaborate, could take him by surprise.
As he wrote, Dumbledore's warning lingered, like a shadow that refused to go away.
Flitwick closed his notebook and leaned back in his chair, staring at the vaulted ceiling of his office. The training plan was complete, each session designed to hone Aurelian's strengths and forge a defense against any trickery.
But as he mentally reviewed everything he had seen in the young man, he couldn't help but smile.
"Actually," he muttered to himself, "with that attitude and the strength he has shown, perhaps it is not he who needs protection in France... but the poor unsuspecting souls who cross his path."
A brief but heartfelt laugh filled the small office. Flitwick knew that Dumbledore had reasons to be cautious... but he, having seen his personality up close, was quite convinced that Aurelian was not a boy who could be easily manipulated.
With that thought, he extinguished the candles with a wave of his wand, still smiling.
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