Blake had the entire afternoon ahead of him before six o'clock rolled around. Without even bothering to eat, he grabbed his alchemy glasses and got to work, completely engrossed in his project. Time flew by, and it wasn't until 5:40 PM that he finally set down his tools.
Penelope arrived shortly after with several meat pies and a bottle of pumpkin juice. She knew Blake well enough to anticipate that once he started working, he'd completely forget about food. Blake placed a set of rough-looking rings on the table and sighed.
"Time is tight, so this is the best I can do for now," he said, reaching for the pie Penelope brought.
"Wash your hands first," Penelope said sternly, pointing to the black stains covering his hands from hours of refining. Blake had no choice but to obediently fetch a basin of water using a water spell and scrub his hands clean.
"What exactly were you working on all afternoon?" Penelope asked, eyeing the rings on the table with curiosity.
"Oh, it's just a little something to control magic," Blake replied, taking a bite of pie. "You have no idea how difficult it is for me to train with you." He sighed again.
Blake's magic was powerful—so much so that he could easily blow up his wand if he wasn't careful. As he grew older, his already immense magical power only increased, and it became harder to control. It wasn't just about struggling with precision anymore. Blake worried that during a duel, he could accidentally harm someone he cared about.
That's why he spent the afternoon crafting these magic control rings. They could suppress his magic when needed but also allow him to unleash his full power in a pinch. It was like adding a faucet to a leaking water pipe, giving him much-needed control. Tonight, during his duel with Lockhart, Blake planned to test their effectiveness.
"Oh, so it's very hard to train with me?" Penelope said, her expression unreadable.
Blake's heart skipped a beat. "Senior! That's not what I meant!" he stammered.
"Oh, I know," Penelope replied calmly.
"Hiss…" Blake suddenly felt like the pie tasted less appealing. Penelope couldn't hold back a smirk.
"I'm just kidding," she teased. "But seriously, training with me must be quite exhausting, right?"
Blake froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Penelope picked up one of the rings from the table. "Is this really that powerful? It can suppress your magic?" she asked.
"Try it and see," Blake said, sipping his pumpkin juice.
Curious, Penelope slipped the ring onto her finger and tried casting a spell. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she said, pointing her wand at a chair. The chair didn't budge.
Frowning, Penelope attempted several other spells, all to no avail. She quickly removed the ring and tried again. This time, her spells worked perfectly.
"Blake, it's terrifying to feel like a Squib," Penelope said, her voice tinged with fear.
Blake chuckled. "Don't worry, Senior. Even if you became a Squib, I'd find a way to fix it."
"Sure you would," Penelope said sarcastically, shaking her head. "Anyway, it's almost time for your duel with Lockhart. Shouldn't you get ready?"
Blake groaned. "Why bother? He knows the way here. If he wants to come, let him."
"Be mature about this," Penelope chided. "No matter how much you dislike him, he's still a professor."
"You're asking a twelve-year-old to be mature?" Blake retorted, slouching in his chair.
Penelope gave him a pointed look. "By the way, aren't you going to test those rings yourself?" she asked. She was curious about how Blake, with his immense magic, would fare with them.
Blake calmly picked up a ring and slid it onto his finger. He closed his eyes, focusing for a moment, then added a second ring, followed by a third. Penelope watched in shock as he eventually put on five rings.
"You can still use magic?" she asked, incredulous.
Blake pulled out an old, second-hand wand he'd bought from a shop in Diagon Alley. It was notoriously fragile and would usually explode if he used it. However, he pointed it at the chair Penelope had tried to levitate and silently cast a spell. The chair rose smoothly into the air.
"You… you can use silent magic with five rings on?" Penelope gasped.
Blake nodded nonchalantly. "It's not too hard, though wandless spells might take a bit more effort."
Penelope was at a loss for words. Blake's abilities were incredible, even with his magic suppressed. She shook her head, muttering something about how unfair life was.
Lockhart arrived shortly after, looking as self-assured as ever. The large classroom, prepared earlier with a duel stage covered in a soft blue carpet, quickly filled with students. Lockhart, clad in a garish purple-red robe, stood on the stage and began his usual boastful monologue.
"Gather around, everyone! Can you all see me? Can you hear me?" he called out.
The students stopped their practice and approached the stage.
"At the request of our enthusiastic students and staff, I have graciously agreed to lead this Duel Club," Lockhart declared. "Although I was reluctant at first, I couldn't resist your heartfelt pleas—especially from the famous Harry Potter himself!"
Harry, who had been smiling moments ago, froze in place. His face turned pale as he glanced toward Blake, who was watching him with a mischievous grin. "Hehe…" Harry forced an awkward laugh, already dreading what Blake might do.
Ronald, standing beside Harry, whispered, "Harry, what's wrong with you? Did the Bludger knock something loose? Why would you ask Lockhart to lead the Duel Club?"
"I'm doomed," Harry muttered. "Blake is going to kill me. You know how vindictive he is."
Onstage, Lockhart continued basking in his self-importance. "Now, let me introduce my assistant for today—the talented Blake Green! A prodigy among wizards, his achievements are already on par with my own at his age."
Blake sighed and reluctantly walked onto the stage, slipping the rings onto his fingers as he went. Compared to Lockhart's flamboyant outfit, Blake's plain Hufflepuff uniform made him look unassuming. But his calm, confident demeanor spoke volumes.
As Blake reached the stage, he locked eyes with Lockhart and smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile, though. Harry, watching from the audience, shivered. He knew that smile all too well. It was the kind of smile Blake gave before teaching someone a painful lesson.
"Ron… take care of Hedwig for me," Harry said dramatically, slumping in his seat.
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