Knock, knock, knock.
A series of knocks echoed through the corridor. Moments later, Professor Quirrell opened the door and peeked out. Upon seeing Harry and his friends standing there, an expression of "surprise" flickered across his face.
"Oh, H-Harry… are you here to s-see me?" Professor Quirrell asked curiously, his voice quivering as usual.
Harry gave him an apologetic smile before speaking. "I'm sorry to bother you, Professor Quirrell, but there's something I need your help with. I hope it's not a bad time?"
At this, Quirrell hurriedly stepped aside, stammering, "O-Of course! P-please, come in!"
As Harry stepped into the professor's office, Ron and Hermione exchanged awkward smiles with Quirrell before following behind him. None of them noticed the fleeting glint of malice in Quirrell's eyes as he quietly shut the door behind them.
Once the door was closed, Quirrell turned back to them, his face once again adorned with a friendly—albeit slightly nervous—smile. "H-Harry, what brings you three here today?"
The moment they entered, an odd, pungent odor filled their noses, making them squint and blink rapidly. However, despite the discomfort, Harry quickly explained, "Well, Professor, a friend of mine was joking about having a wizard's duel, but I realized I don't actually know the proper rules—or which spells to use."
Harry deliberately avoided mentioning Draco's name. He phrased it as a harmless joke, not wanting Quirrell to dig deeper and risk getting Malfoy into trouble.
Quirrell, however, showed no interest in pressing for details. Instead, he feigned surprise. "Oh, d-dear me! Harry, you're s-so young, and you're already thinking about wizard dueling? That's… that's quite surprising! But then again, for someone like you, perhaps it's not so unusual."
He paused for a moment, then asked, "Did anyone else know you three were coming to see me?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a glance before slowly shaking their heads.
Quirrell's smile widened. "Oh! How… how w-wonderful! Since no one knows, that's quite a relief!"
Seeing the confused expressions on their faces, Quirrell quickly elaborated, "You see, Harry, wizard dueling isn't something first-years should be learning. If word got out that you asked me about it, as a professor, I wouldn't be able to teach you!"
Then, with a conspiratorial tone, he added, "But if no one knows… well, I could teach you a few things privately. Just between us."
Hearing this, Harry, Ron, and Hermione grinned. Harry quickly reassured him, "Don't worry, Professor Quirrell, no one knows we're here, and we won't tell anyone afterward either."
Quirrell's smile grew even broader. For a moment, the air in the dimly lit office seemed oddly harmonious, despite the lingering, strange odor.
Quirrell proceeded to explain the basic rules of wizard dueling before turning away and walking toward his desk. Upon it lay a single wand, resting silently on the wooden surface. As he reached out, his expression darkened, and his voice grew eerily steady.
"Harry, in a wizard's duel, the spells used depend on the duelist's intent. In many cases, a duel can mean life or death. That's why many wizards opt for the simplest and most effective way to end a fight quickly. For example… the Killing Curse."
As he spoke, Quirrell's fingers closed around his wand.
At that very moment, a searing pain erupted in Harry's forehead, radiating from his lightning-shaped scar. The agony was so intense that he instinctively clutched his forehead with one hand, while his other grabbed onto Ron's shoulder to keep himself from collapsing. A strangled cry of pain escaped his lips.
Ron caught Harry just in time, his face full of alarm. Hermione rushed to his side, voice filled with concern. "Harry! What's wrong?!"
Neither of them noticed that, behind them, Quirrell had turned, wand in hand, watching them coldly.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy sat sulking in the corner of the Room of Requirement, his arms crossed and lips pursed in frustration.
Wentworth approached him, patting him on the shoulder. "What's wrong, Draco? Still upset? I told you, that was an accident! How was I supposed to know you'd go flying that easily? One simple Disarming Charm and you were sent sprawling! Next time, I'll tone it down and use less magic."
Wentworth chuckled to himself. Draco Malfoy, you practically handed me this opportunity on a silver platter. Did you really think I'd forgotten how you schemed against me last year? You thought that Golden Snitch was so easy to take?
However, before Wentworth could savor his amusement, he noticed Draco's eyes glistening slightly at the corners, as if he were on the verge of tears.
Startled, Wentworth immediately pulled out his wand and pointed it at Draco. "Oi! Don't you dare! Swallow it back! If you start crying, I swear, I won't go easy on you! I'm not one for comforting kids!"
Draco, seeing the tip of Wentworth's wand inches from his nose, hastily took a deep breath, forcing his tears back down.
Only then did Wentworth lower his wand, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Draco, is it really that bad? So you got knocked down once—big deal! No one even saw it happen! If you cry over this, you'll bring shame to the entire Malfoy family."
He smirked before adding, "Last year, I was sent flying in Defense Against the Dark Arts, right in front of the entire first-year Hufflepuff and Slytherin classes! Cassandra hit me with a single spell, and I went soaring. And did I cry about it? No!"
Draco's ears perked up at this. "Wait—you got sent flying? By Cassandra? She's that powerful? What happened next? Did the professor punish you?"
Wentworth pretended to ponder for a moment before replying, "I remember that Professor Ilona, who was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at the time, simply awarded Hufflepuff twenty points."
Draco Malfoy: "...Wait, what?!"
-----------------------
Want to read ahead of schedule?
Join here for advance chapters: PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON