A wizard duel?
At Gemma Farley's words, the surrounding students erupted into a commotion.
A fifth-year student openly challenging a first-year to a duel in front of everyone.
Was this a distortion of humanity or a moral decay?
Harry lifted his gaze and met Gemma's piercing blue eyes.
"Miss Farley, do you wish to have a wizard duel with me?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter." Gemma's expression was serious, yet she didn't draw her wand. "You may choose the time and place. No assistants are necessary. It will be one-on-one."
As Slytherin prefect, even knowing it was somewhat irrational, she still needed to present herself. Otherwise, if the house's morale collapsed, how could she lead her group?
"Why?" Harry asked.
Not that he had any chivalrous intentions; there had been plenty of beautiful women among dark wizards a hundred years ago, and Harry had shown no mercy when hurling magical explosives at their lovely faces.
He simply wanted an explanation.
"You can defeat seven sixth-year students, proving that your skills far surpass those of a first-year," Gemma said. "If you win, I guarantee no Slytherin will bother you; if you lose, apologize to Slytherin."
"No, I'm not concerned with trouble," Harry replied indifferently. "If I win, I hope Parkinson and Flint apologize to Hermione — as for bothering me, I don't think Slytherins are a real problem."
Harry had never liked the name Flint.
Of course, there had been discrimination against Muggle-borns at Hogwarts a century ago.
He knew the term "Mudblood" because of someone named Derek Flint.
That man had deliberately knocked Harry's plate over while he was eating, and Gareth, who defended him, had been severely beaten.
Yet Derek Flint never bothered him again. Gareth said it was because Drake Marcus's father had received a stern warning from the Board of Governors, which made him behave properly.
Despite Gareth's repeated claims that his aunt, Professor Weasley, wasn't on the Board of Governors, and that even the Headmaster couldn't interfere with the Council's decisions, Harry believed it was the result of negotiations between the Deputy Headmaster and the Board.
Why had the Board done nothing about Cassandra Malfoy? As a first-year, Harry thought to himself, Malfoy often mocked him for being lazy, arrogant, and inattentive in class, and even wanted to recruit him as a follower — she was truly infuriating.
Gemma furrowed her brow slightly; she did not really want to confront Harry. She had only challenged him to a duel because he had spoken disrespectfully of Slytherin.
If she had been an ordinary Slytherin student, it wouldn't have mattered. But as a prefect, status brought not only honor but obligations.
"Take out your wand, Miss Farley," Harry said.
He drew his wand, gesturing for his friends to step back to avoid being caught in the spell.
"Harry…" Ron looked somewhat worried; he had heard Percy mention Miss Farley's name more than once, saying she was the best student in Slytherin.
Percy had been convinced not only by her excellent grades but also by her "non-Slytherin" personality.
"Don't worry, Ron," Harry smiled. "Take care of Neville; he's probably got a headache from that blow. I've got this."
Ron wanted to say more, but Hermione tugged at his sleeve.
"I'll be the referee!" Draco appeared suddenly, glaring at Harry with ill intent.
The surrounding students stepped aside, and Gemma stood uncertainly in the center. "Mr. Potter, don't you want to rest a bit first?"
"Thank you, but there's no need." Harry bowed gracefully to Gemma. "Miss Farley, shall I teach you the basic etiquette of a duel?"
Gemma held her wand horizontally across her chest and returned the bow, performing a flawless dueling salute.
"Three!" Draco raised his hand.
"Two!"
"One!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Almost simultaneously, they both cast disarming spells at each other.
With a sharp crack, a ball of red-orange flames erupted between them—the point where their spells collided.
Gemma flicked her wrist, and the statue behind her seemed to come to life, advancing threateningly toward Harry.
Seeing her use Transfiguration, Harry waved his wand, causing the two armors at the entrance to move, and launched his lance at the statue.
Unnoticed by them, a vine had silently appeared at Harry's feet.
He effortlessly incinerated the vines with fire, then used his armor to deflect Gemma's curse, followed by a stunning spell.
It was the first time the students had witnessed such a spectacular wizard duel, especially the first-years, who held their breath, eyes wide with fascination, forgetting even to blink as the two fought in the center of the arena.
When a spell flew toward her, Gemma dodged, only to be hit by a red spell.
It was Harry, who had anticipated her movement and preemptively cast a Disarming Spell.
"Protego!" Gemma blocked the Disarming Spell.
However, another spell followed closely behind.
The armor that had blocked the Disarming Spell was nearly depleted; there was not enough time to conjure another, and Gemma could only watch helplessly as the spell approached.
"Incarcerous!"
The spell hit Gemma, and ropes appeared suddenly, binding her tightly. She fell to the snow with a dull thud.
Her loose Hogwarts uniform, comfortable and roomy, was now fully exposed beneath the ropes, revealing the figure hidden beneath her robes.
Without the aid of her magic, Gemma's statue collapsed to the ground.
Two armors, each wielding a spear, crossed at both sides of Gemma's neck, as if any resistance would result in a bloodbath.
"You've lost, Miss Farley," Harry said elegantly.
He considered himself a gentleman for treating a woman as a worthy opponent to be defeated.
"I surrender," Gemma admitted defeat promptly.
Harry waved his hand, and the two armors returned to their original positions, the ropes binding Gemma vanishing.
Someone in the crowd sighed, apparently lamenting the disappearance of the ropes.
"Well then, it's time to fulfill your promise, Miss Farley," Harry said, extending his hand.
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