Because of the deliberately crafted atmosphere, anything happening at a distance was impossible to make out unless you were standing very close. Coupled with the music shifting into an intense, fast-paced rhythm, it became even harder for anyone to notice what was going on below.
That was especially true on Draco's side. With Goyle and the others deliberately blocking the area, it was practically impossible for anything unusual here to draw attention in a short time.
As for the young wizards who happened to be nearby?
Those Slytherin snakes were more than happy to watch Ron Weasley get taught a lesson.
That's right. The moment the sound of tables being smashed rang out, what everyone saw was Ron Weasley flying through the air before crashing heavily into the corner.
The scene carried a strange sense of déjà vu.
After all, his brother had once been treated the same way. Only the location was different.
...
Silence.
Staring up at the starry ceiling, Ron Weasley seemed unable to process what had just happened.
It wasn't until pain spread through his body that he was dragged out of his stunned daze and back into reality.
Why was he the one lying on the floor?
This had to be a nightmare, right?
He was the one who struck first. So why was he the one who got hit?
Mockery. Doubt. Gloating.
Without even looking, Ron Weasley could already imagine the kinds of looks being thrown his way.
The injury itself wasn't serious, but the humiliation was unbearable.
Especially collapsing so miserably in front of the person he liked. The feeling was like ants gnawing at his heart, impossible to endure.
Bang!
Ron Weasley struggled up from the splintered table legs and shattered wood. Even without candlelight, one could easily picture the fury and distortion on his face.
"Cough, cough, cough!! That's impossible! How could you use an attack like that?!"
More importantly, from Draco's move just now, Ron Weasley sensed something eerily familiar.
That way of striking… he had seen it before.
In a dream.
The anger and disbelief in Ron Weasley's voice naturally caught the attention of Draco and the others.
Hermione tugged lightly at Draco's sleeve.
"That move… is there something wrong with it?"
Her expression was pure curiosity, as though she had completely forgotten that what Draco had just done technically violated school rules.
"Yeah. Isn't it just wandless magic? What's there to be so shocked about?"
"Mm… at most, add nonverbal casting," Astoria said thoughtfully. "It's difficult, sure, but if it's Draco, it still feels reasonable."
Pansy and Astoria both wore puzzled looks.
They had assumed Ron Weasley was simply talking nonsense, but judging from Draco's unusually serious expression, it seemed things weren't that simple after all.
Was there really something strange about it?
Wasn't it just wandless magic combined with nonverbal casting?
...
Watching Ron Weasley across from him—disheveled, ferocious on the surface yet already wavering inside—Draco frowned and slowly lowered his raised hand.
His straight posture and calm expression made it seem as though he hadn't just attacked Ron Weasley at all.
Hearing the questions from the three girls beside him, as well as the confusion in Goyle and the others' eyes, Draco—who had acted without hesitation moments earlier—finally spoke his second sentence since arriving.
"Because that's that person's signature move."
"So it's someone else's signature… wait!?"
"That person?"
"Draco, you don't mean…?"
At first, no one quite grasped it. Then realization struck, and everyone understood who Draco was referring to.
In the British wizarding world, there was only one existence who could be called "that person."
The cruel Dark Lord himself.
Voldemort.
Noticing their stunned expressions, Draco, whose mood had been sour, finally allowed a faint smile to surface.
"That's right. People tend to think the Dark Lord specialized in the three Unforgivable Curses. But before becoming the Dark Lord, our senior was actually best at the very first spell every wizard learns after enrolling."
"The first one? You mean…"
At that moment, Draco flicked his hand forward.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Damn it! Reducto!"
This time, Ron Weasley managed to cast the spell successfully, shattering the table flying toward him. But compared to Draco's unhurried composure, Ron's frantic movements made him look clumsy and panicked.
Facing Ron Weasley's rage, Draco simply waved his hand again. One by one, the levitating tables slammed toward Ron.
It was obvious Draco was using Ron Weasley as a live demonstration.
Before he could even catch his breath, Ron saw more objects hurtling at him and let out a shrill scream.
"Draco Malfoy!!"
"..."
Goyle and Crabbe tugged at the corners of their mouths with pity, the scene reminding them all too clearly of those hellish training sessions.
Only after there was nothing left to smash did Draco finally turn his head toward Pansy and the other two girls.
"An improved Levitation Charm. Never underestimate any wizard, and never underestimate any spell."
"Teach me!"
"That's amazing, Draco."
"Looks like we worried for nothing. We thought you might use Sectumsempra, or even Fiendfyre."
As Ron Weasley was buried beneath overturned tables and chairs, Pansy and the others stared at Draco with open admiration, as though he were glowing from head to toe.
Even without dark magic, Draco wasn't someone just anyone could bully.
Among them, Hermione—realizing Draco had gotten angry because of her—was so overwhelmed her cheeks flushed red. If Pansy hadn't been watching her, Hermione might have thrown herself into Draco's arms the very next second.
But—
Unlike the others' excitement, Draco wore a grave expression as he stared at the spot where Ron Weasley had disappeared.
Because he was curious.
How did Ron Weasley know a secret no one else did?
After all, the magic and methods Voldemort mastered in his youth weren't things just any wizard could know—especially not someone from the Weasley family, which was already beginning to fall into decline…