Colin grinned. "Of course, sir! I will!"
Erwin nodded. "Right, come here, Ebony!"
Ebony leaped down from Colin's arms and bounded into Erwin's.
With a snap of his fingers, Erwin vanished.
Colin bowed, then straightened and headed back toward the castle.
...
Time flew by, and soon it was the weekend.
In the Great Hall, Malfoy slumped at the Slytherin table, looking utterly downcast.
Harry Potter approached him. "Malfoy, you've been moping for days!"
Malfoy sighed. "I just don't get why they banned Quidditch for Wizarding Duels. I voted against it!"
Harry shrugged. "Me too. Shows how many more people fancy dueling over broom games. But it's fine by me—I like Wizarding Duels. Wonder if I'll make the House team, though."
Malfoy perked up slightly. "Hard to say. Headmaster's rules pick a five-man team per House each term. They'll compete, tally scores, and rank the Houses overall. With our skills, we've got a shot. Shame the Headmaster's sitting it out—he'd wipe the floor with everyone."
Harry chuckled. "You're lucky he's not playing. Matches would be dull otherwise. That's what the professors reckon."
Malfoy shrugged. "Whatever. I'm off to practice spells. I want on Slytherin's second-year squad. You're right, Harry—Wizarding Duels are brilliant. I'll thrash you fair and square!"
Harry smirked. "We'll see. I didn't study with Hermione for nothing."
Malfoy snorted. "Bring it. First, I need two enchanted robes for the trials."
He dashed off. Harry and Hermione shared a look.
"Should I get one too?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded. "For anything else, no need. But enchanted robes? They're practical—boost your edge and look sharp. Erwin's a natural at turning a profit."
The buzz around Wizarding Duels trials drowned out the Chamber of Secrets jitters gripping Hogwarts.
Every student hustled to sharpen their skills for a spot.
Unlike Quidditch, this was raw, even combat—a true test of talent.
In a single break, Wizarding Duels had conquered the wizarding world.
The galleon credit system for buying enchanted robes had lined the Selwyn coffers.
Wizards snapped them up without dipping into their vaults, treating credits like pocket change.
It was that mental shift: digital coin felt less real. Erwin remembered it from his old life—easy payments blurring the sense of value.
And just as in the books, Lockhart stirred up trouble.
Erwin couldn't fathom why his godfather let this fool assist him. Perhaps Dumbledore's research had hit a wall, and he fancied giving Lockhart a humbling?
Erwin lounged at his desk, eager for tomorrow's spectacle.
A proper lark amid the tedium of term.
He swirled the vial in his hand: a drop of blood, crimson with a golden shimmer.
Ravenclaw materialized, hovering overhead.
"Still on that blood?"
Erwin nodded. "Yeah. As you said, Founder, it holds a trace of... divine power? What you called false god essence. It's beyond magic—higher energy altogether. I'm itching to break it down."
Ravenclaw shook her head. "Too soon for you. Why the rush?"
Erwin pocketed the vial in his enchanted ring. "Dunno. Just a nagging pull. Especially with all the secrets you and the Founder hold back. I feel they're tied to me. Better to push on."
She paused. "Sorry, Erwin. Some truths would unbalance you now."
He smiled. "I get it, Founder. We've been through enough—I trust you."
Ravenclaw nodded and dissolved into starlight, vanishing into his brow.
Erwin petted the creature curled in his lap, a cold spark in his eyes that faded quickly.
He scooped it up by the scruff. "Time for bed, little one. Late hour."
...
Saturday dawned, and despite the weekend, few students lingered in bed.
Today marked the launch of Lockhart's Dueling Club.
Slytherins scorned the man, but most pupils idolized him.
His adventures rang true in print, if not always on the page. Erwin figured Lockhart could rake in Sickles writing for wizarding literature platforms someday.
The git had claimed a classroom for the club, complete with a long platform at the center, draped in starry fabric.
Good thing Ravenclaw was napping; she'd hex Lockhart senseless for stealing her House's motif.
Lockhart cut a dashing figure in his suit, beaming from the platform.
He bowed theatrically. "Welcome to the Dueling Club! With Hogwarts on edge lately, I've pushed for this to hone your defenses. A big hand for my assistant—Professor Snape!"
...
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