The entire courtyard was stunned into silence.
Every jaw had dropped, every eye bulged wide in disbelief. Students gawked at the motionless figure of Pauline Fudge lying unconscious on the ground.
Among the remaining Prefects, both Kelly and Lisa were visibly trembling.
"H-How dare you…!"
Kelly's voice broke the silence like a snapped wand.
It was as if her words triggered something in the crowd. The trance shattered—and chaos erupted.
Someone had just cast one of the Unforgivable Curses.
In front of the whole school!
And worse—someone might have just died!
"Pauline's dead!"
"That lunatic Marius Cloud… he's really lost it!"
Students erupted into full-blown panic. Screams, shouts, confusion—bedlam.
Dumbledore had to raise his wand to his throat and use the Sonorus Charm just to be heard.
"Silence! Everyone, stay where you are! Don't move!"
He had to avoid a stampede at all costs.
Truth be told, Dumbledore's expression was darker than the Forbidden Forest.
And it wasn't just him—McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick... even Sprout—all looked like thunderclouds ready to burst.
Because none of them had reacted in time.
No one had expected it.
No one had believed a student—even Marius Cloud—would dare cast Avada Kedavra on a fellow classmate.
Even McGonagall was already raising her wand.
"We have to end this duel and summon the Ministry!" she snapped.
But Dumbledore stopped her, placing a hand gently on her arm and shaking his head.
Unlike the others, Dumbledore had reacted—and had nearly intervened.
But he'd held himself back.
Why?
Because the moment the spell was cast, he'd sensed it.
That wasn't the aura of the Killing Curse.
Yes, Marius had shouted "Avada Kedavra," and yes, green light had erupted from his wand—
But the spell itself had been something else entirely. A clever trick.
A distraction.
And that was why Dumbledore had not moved to stop him.
He'd known—barely—that it wasn't real.
Just then, a sharp-eyed seventh-year cried out:
"Look! She's still breathing!"
All eyes turned to Pauline's body.
Indeed—though unconscious, her chest rose and fell faintly.
She wasn't dead.
Confused murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"What just happened?"
"Wasn't that the Killing Curse?"
"How is she still alive!?"
Professor Flitwick's eyes lit up with realization.
"He used Nonverbal spell! He only said the Killing Curse—but he actually cast a completely different spell without uttering the real incantation!"
That was a high-level magical technique—deceptive, precise, and almost never seen in Hogwarts.
"No way!"
"He used Nonverbal spell? Isn't that something only elite Aurors can do?"
"He's just a first-year! That's insane!"
The crowd broke into noisy discussion again—but this time, their eyes burned with admiration.
First move of the duel, and one of the Prefects was instantly taken out.
A flawless first strike.
-----
Meanwhile, the six Prefects were still shell-shocked.
Moments ago, they had been consumed by rage. Now they were reeling from Marius' opening move.
But Marius didn't care about gasps or praise. He wasn't here to perform. He was here to win.
And right now, he had no intention of wasting his advantage.
With silent, calculated steps, he advanced toward Caesar Cliff—the Male Seventh-Year Prefect, and the strongest among the six.
He was the real threat. The rest were just warm-up.
"What are you doing!?"
Caesar blinked in surprise.
Steve and Samuel suddenly paled.
They'd seen this before. That night—the night Marius took on the three shadow duelists.
"Watch out!"
Watch out for what?
Caesar still hadn't grasped what Marius was doing. He hadn't even seen him raise his wand.
Because Marius didn't.
Instead, Marius reached out, grabbed Caesar's arm and shoulder—
And then, in a move so sudden and brutal it looked like it came from a muggle brawl—
SLAMMED him against the wall with an over-the-shoulder throw.
WHAM!
The impact echoed across the courtyard like a thunderclap.
Students shivered.
That sound…
It sounded like someone had just swatted a fly.
"Apologies," Marius said coolly, adjusting his robe. "I'd rather not hit girls, so I picked you instead."
No hint of guilt in his voice. Pure calm.
As a scion of a prominent pureblood family, Marius had been taught to be a gentleman. That didn't mean he wouldn't fight women—
But given a choice, he'd always pick the male opponent.
Caesar, dazed and groaning, nearly coughed up blood in disbelief.
Marius didn't hesitate—
He kicked him square in the face.
Out cold.
-----
Marius Cloud might've only had a level-2 body stat, but that already rivaled any normal wizard.
Combine that with elite-level combat techniques?
Caesar Cliff, strongest of the six, never stood a chance in close quarters.
-----
"He what!?"
"Did he just bodyslam a seventh-year Prefect!?"
"Am I dreaming?!"
The crowd had barely recovered from the fake Killing Curse—
Now they were in complete frenzy.
But the wild part?
They loved it.
There was something primal about it—watching someone beat the stuffing out of a smug Prefect with his bare hands.
Magic was elegant.
This?
This was raw dominance.
It awakened something deep inside the watching students—something savage, rebellious, and hungry for justice.
-----
"Barbaric! Crude! An insult to the elegance of pureblood wizardry!"
For reasons unknown, Lord Voldemort—still parasitically attached to Quirrell—had chosen to spectate through his host today.
And he was not impressed.
-----
Elsewhere, Bunier shivered with unease.
He still remembered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that kind of humiliation.
-----
"This is a violation! He should be disqualified!"
Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, fury simmering beneath his words.
But Dumbledore only gave a faint shrug.
"As far as I know, the rules never said physical contact was forbidden."
Even the most powerful wizard in recent history had to admit—
For at least one or two seconds there, Marius Cloud's tactics had caught even him off guard.
--------------
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