Hogwarts, Friday night.
The torches set into the stone walls of the dueling arena glowed softly and steadily, their light dancing over the smooth, reflective floor. Ethan stood at the heart of it all, hands clasped casually behind him, posture open and attentive. Overhead, the curved benches rose in neat semicircles, students perched along them—some bright-eyed with anticipation, others studying him with quiet interest.
This class felt markedly different from the last one. Fifth through seventh years filled the benches students who had honed their magic over years at Hogwarts. A few sat forward eagerly quills hovering eager for every insight. Others leaned back arms crossed faces set in boredom or mild challenge waiting to be convinced. Scattered whispers rose among friends low and electric the thrill of practical magic always more captivating than any textbook explanation.
Ethan let his gaze travel slowly across the room. He took in the familiar faces and the unfamiliar ones, reading posture and expression as easily as a page from a book. Confidence, impatience, curiosity, skepticism. They were all there. He nodded once to himself, then lifted his voice so it carried clearly through the arena.
"Welcome, welcome, students, to this late class of the week."
A ripple of attention moved through the benches as conversations faded. Ethan allowed himself a faint smile.
"Tonight is your last class of the week, and after that you will have your weekend. Free time. Rest. Detention free evenings, for most of you. So I will ask only one thing. Cooperate with me tonight, and I promise I will not keep you longer than necessary."
A few laughs rose from the benches. Some students smiled. The tension that had clung to the room loosened just a little. Ethan had learned quickly that Friday evening classes required a careful balance. Push too hard and minds would close. Offer nothing of substance and respect would vanish.
"I am sure you have heard plenty about this class from your juniors,"he continued. "Rumors tend to travel faster than owls in this castle. Let me reassure you right away. I will not spend this lesson teaching you the Disarming Charm as if you have never held a wand before. Nor will I recite textbook definitions while you struggle to stay awake."
A few knowing chuckles answered him.
"Most of you here are experienced, at least by Hogwarts standards. Even the youngest among you has four years of magical education behind them. You have studied theory. You have memorized incantations. You have passed examinations. Some of you even enjoyed doing so."
He paused, glancing pointedly toward a cluster of students who suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.
"And some of you survived exams by luck and last minute revision. That is also a kind of talent."
Laughter followed, louder this time.
"What we will focus on in this class is application. Practical dueling. Controlled combat. Defense and counterattack. Not for sport, and certainly not for ego. But because the world beyond these walls does not care how well you wrote your essays during your school years."
He stepped forward, boots echoing softly against the stone.
"When you are afraid, you will not have time to recall a paragraph from a book. Your body will act before your thoughts do. Tonight, and in the weeks to come, I want you to build habits. Awareness, Control and smart Judgment."
Ethan lifted his wand slightly, not casting a spell, merely emphasizing his words.
"We will learn by experience. One duel at a time. Those watching will learn just as much as those fighting, if you pay attention."
He turned toward the benches.
"I will call you down in pairs. You will face each other here. I will guide you, correct you, and occasionally stop you before you do something foolish. By the end of the year, each of you should be capable of defending yourself in an unexpected situation, keeping a clear head under pressure, and knowing when to act and when not to."
A hush settled over the room. Even the more disinterested students were watching him closely now.
"Before we begin, there is something I want to address."
Ethan shifted his gaze toward the front row. There, seated among her fellow Ravenclaws, was a familiar figure. A few all girl sat upright, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her black hair was pulled back, and her hazel eyes were alert, intelligent, and just a touch wary.
"During the incident on the train last week,"Ethan said, "there were several students who acted responsibly. Prefects who stayed calm and protected those around them. That deserves recognition."
He inclined his head slightly.
"In particular, I want to commend Miss Hannah Selvanos, Head Girl of Ravenclaw house."
A murmur swept through the benches, quickly followed by applause. Hannah blinked in surprise, then smiled, color rising to her cheeks.
"Her judgment under pressure was exceptional," Ethan continued, his voice steady. "She read the situation in moments, selected distraction over foolish aggression, and managed to delay an adult wizard until I could handle him. Her actions were a great help in keeping a train full of young students safe. We should appreciate that level of calm thinking. It is rare, especially at your age, and it is exactly the kind of skill worth developing here."
He looked directly at her.
"With your talent and discipline, you have a bright future ahead of you. I expect you to continue setting an example for your fellow students."
The applause grew louder. A few students whistled. Someone called out a teasing comment about marriage proposals. Hannah laughed softly, ducking her head.
"Thank you, Professor," she said, her voice clear despite her embarrassment.
When the noise finally settled, Ethan gestured toward the arena.
"Miss Selvanos, if you would come down, please. We will begin with a demonstration duel."
Hannah lifted herself from her seat with smooth grace and walked down the steps, exuding quiet confidence. She positioned herself on one side of the polished floor, wand loose in her hand yet unmistakably at the ready.
Ethan turned back to the benches.
"Is there a volunteer who wishes to face her?"
A hand rose from the Slytherin section almost immediately.
"I will, Professor."
Ethan followed the sound and met the gaze of a young girl with pale blond hair and piercing gray eyes. She held herself with refined elegance, her features composed but alive with focused intensity. The silver accents on her robes reflected the steady torch flames, accentuating her poised, almost regal air.
"Of course, Miss Malfoy,"Ethan said evenly.
A faint stir passed through the room at the name.
The girl stood and made her way down the stone steps with measured grace. She was younger than Hannah, perhaps fifteen, but carried herself with unmistakable confidence. When she reached the arena, she faced Hannah directly, chin lifted.
For a brief moment, tension sparked between them. Not hostility, exactly, but competition. Pride.
Ethan stepped between them, raising one hand.
"Age and experience set you apart," Ethan continued. "And that is exactly as it should be. Out in the real world, opponents will never be conveniently matched by year. You will face witches and wizards with decades of practice behind them. Adapting to that gap is difficult, but it is incredibly valuable. Each time you stand against someone more experienced, you learn, you adjust, and you become better. Those challenges are what truly shape you into skilled witches and wizards."
The Malfoy girl smiled thinly.
"Do not worry, Professor. I can handle her."
"Confidence is good," Ethan replied. "Overconfidence is not. We will see which this is."
Hannah met the girl's gaze and offered a small, almost playful smile.
"I will try not to hurt you, Junior."
"You will not need to hold back Selvanos," the Malfoy girl replied coolly.
Ethan nodded once.
"Very well. Dueling etiquette first. Introduce yourselves."
Hannah inclined her head.
"Hannah Selvanos, seventh year, Ravenclaw."
The Malfoy girl mirrored the gesture.
"Cassia Malfoy, fifth year, Slytherin."
They stepped back, raised their wands, and bowed.
"Begin." Ethan said.
Cassia moved first. Her wand snapped up.
"Expelliarmus"
A jet of red light shot toward Hannah. Hannah did not retreat. Instead, she angled her wand.
"Protego"
The shield flared into existence, deflecting the spell upward where it shattered harmlessly against the ceiling.
"Good," Ethan announced loudly, ensuring his words reached every bench so the students could study the exchange and catch subtleties that inexperienced eyes might miss. "Observe the timing closely. Miss Selvanos did not react after the spell was cast. She anticipated it."
Hannah countered immediately.
"Stupefy"
Cassia twisted aside, letting the red bolt graze past her shoulder. She responded with a flick of her wrist.
"Impedimenta"
Hannah felt her movements slow for a heartbeat. She rolled with it, dropping low and sliding across the floor as the spell skimmed overhead.
"Very good footwork," Ethan said. "Using movement instead of brute force."
Hannah rose, casting.
"Flipendo"
Cassia braced herself, boots scraping against stone as the force knocked her backward several steps. She recovered quickly.
"Incendio"
A ribbon of fire surged forward. Hannah slashed her wand downward.
"Aguamenti"
Water burst forth, dousing the flames in a hiss of steam.
"Notice that," Ethan said. "Countering an element with its opposite is effective and smart but costly. Miss Selvanos used more energy than necessary. Remember that."
Cassia pressed the advantage.
"Confringo"
The explosive curse struck the floor near Hannah, sending fragments of stone flying. Hannah shielded her face, then retaliated.
"Diffindo"
The cutting charm sliced through the air, tearing a shallow groove across Cassia's sleeve. She hissed, eyes flashing.
"Watch your control," Ethan warned. "Diffindo can maim."
Cassia nodded sharply and adjusted.
"Petrificus Totalus"
Hannah felt the familiar stiffness creep toward her limbs. She reacted instantly.
"Finite Incantatem"
The counterspell dissolved the effect before it could take hold.
"Excellent awareness," Ethan said. "Many duelists panic when targeted by body binding spells."
The duel continued, spells flashing back and forth. Disarming attempts, stunning charms, shields and counters layered one atop another. Cassia's style was aggressive, precise, her spells sharp and fast. Hannah's was fluid, adaptive, focused on control rather than overwhelming force.
At one point, Cassia attempted a feint, casting a weak spell high while sweeping her wand low.
"Serpensortia"
A conjured snake lunged toward Hannah. Several students gasped.
"Creative," Ethan commented. "Risky, but creative."
Hannah stepped back calmly.
"Vera Verto"
The snake stiffened, transformed into a goblet that clattered to the floor.
"Transfiguration under pressure," Ethan said, his voice warm with approval. "Very well done. In a true fight, the smartest witches and wizards turn anything into an advantage: runes etched in haste, alchemical artifacts, quick transfiguration, a well-timed potion, even hostile plants if they are nearby. That adaptability is what separates the capable from the exceptional."
Cassia's jaw tightened. She advanced again.
"Expulso"
The force of the blast sent Hannah stumbling. She caught herself, breathing hard now. Sweat beaded at her temple. The duel had drawn on longer than either had expected.
"Both of you are doing well," Ethan said. "But note your breathing. Fatigue leads to mistakes."
Cassia raised her wand again, intent on finishing it.
"Stupefy"
Hannah did not block this time. She stepped inside the arc of the spell, letting it pass behind her, and struck.
"Expelliarmus"
Cassia's wand flew from her hand, spinning through the air before clattering against the stone at Ethan's feet.
Silence fell.
Ethan raised his hand gently but firmly.
"That will be enough, ladies."
Hannah lowered her wand, chest rising and falling. Cassia stared at her empty hand, then exhaled slowly.
"That," Ethan said, "is how you end a duel. Miss Selvanos waited for an opening instead of forcing one. Miss Malfoy, your aggression was impressive, but you committed fully to your last attack and left yourself exposed."
He looked between them.
"Both of you demonstrated excellent control and discipline. This is the standard I expect."
He commented as he looked towards Cassia, "Miss Malfoy has clearly been practicing well beyond her curriculum."
The benches erupted in applause. Hannah offered Cassia a respectful nod. After a moment, Cassia returned it.
"Take your seats," Ethan said. "We will continue."
"Well," he said calmly, his voice carrying without effort, "As I am sure you all witnessed, that was a very well executed duel."
The room quieted instantly.
"And also," he continued, allowing a faint smile to appear, "a very educational one."
He clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked a few steps along the edge of the platform, scanning the rows of students from fifth year to seventh. Some sat straighter under his gaze. Others avoided eye contact altogether.
"So," Ethan said, stopping at the center, "I imagine I have given you more questions than answers."
A few students nodded unconsciously.
"That is good," he added. "Questions mean you are thinking."
He turned slightly, angling his body so he could see the entire room at once.
"I will begin by asking one of my own."
Several students stiffened.
"What was the first major mistake Miss Selvanos made during that duel?"
For a brief moment, no one spoke. The question hung in the air, heavy and demanding.
Then a hand rose from the Gryffindor section.
Ethan's eyes flicked toward it.
"Yes," he said, gesturing lightly. "Mr Weasley."
The boy straightened abruptly, nearly knocking his chair backward in his haste. He adjusted his glasses with a nervous flick of his fingers, then tugged at his robes as if trying to arrange them into something more dignified.
"My name is Percy Weasley, Professor," he said quickly.
A few snickers rippled through the room.
Ethan waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes. I know. Go on."
Percy cleared his throat, visibly pleased despite his nerves.
"Well," he began, choosing his words carefully, "from what we observed, I believe the primary mistake made by Miss Selvanos was at the very beginning of the duel."
Ethan nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue.
"She did not take her opponent seriously," Percy said. "I think she assumed that because her opponent is two years younger and only in her fifth year, that she did not pose a serious threat. Because of that, Miss Selvanos was not alert enough in the opening moments."
A few heads turned toward the girls involved in the duel. Hannah sat rigid, her expression unreadable.
Percy went on, gaining confidence. "It was only after she recognized her opponent's actual skill and her use of spells and counters that she adjusted her approach. Once she took the duel seriously, she fought more evenly, which ultimately led to her victory."
He paused, then added quickly, "That is what I think, Professor."
Ethan studied him for a moment, then smiled.
"Very good," he said. "Very good indeed."
Percy visibly relaxed.
"Please take your seat, Mr Weasley."
Percy did so, smiling broadly as Ethan continued.
"Five points to Gryffindor," Ethan said. "And another five points for awareness and analytical thinking."
A soft murmur spread through the Gryffindor table. Percy glanced toward the front row, where the Head Girl Hannah sat, her expression carefully neutral. He lingered there for a second longer than necessary before turning back to face forward.
Ethan waited until the noise died down.
"What Mr Weasley said is partially correct," he said. "And in many situations, it would be entirely correct."
He clasped his hands again and began to pace slowly.
"At the beginning of the duel, Miss Selvanos appeared relaxed. Too relaxed. It gave the impression that she did not consider the fight a serious threat."
A few students nodded.
"However," Ethan continued, stopping abruptly, "I do not want you to misunderstand the cause."
He turned toward Hannah.
"This was not a failure of skill."
Hannah lifted her chin slightly.
"It was a failure of experience," Ethan said. "And that is something entirely different."
He turned back to the class.
"She is a seventh year. A talented one. But talent does not replace experience. And experience is not something you gain from textbooks or theory alone."
He let that sink in.
"The greatest mistake older witches and wizards make," he continued, his tone sharpening, "is assuming that age determines danger."
His gaze swept the room.
"They look at younger wizards and see inexperience. They see smaller frames. Less confidence. Less reputation."
He shook his head slowly.
"And that is how they lose."
The room grew quieter.
"In some cases," Ethan said evenly, "that is how they die even."
A visible shiver passed through the students.
"Understand this," he went on. "It does not matter if your opponent is eleven, twenty, or fifty years old. If they are holding a wand, they are a threat."
He raised his own wand slightly, not pointing it at anyone, merely letting it catch the light.
"All it takes is one spell."
He paused.
"One curse."
When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
"One Killing Curse."
The reaction was immediate.
The room fell silent. A few students gasped. Others exchanged uneasy glances. Someone swallowed audibly.
Ethan did not look away.
"You will not have time to react to it," he said. "You will not have time to think. You will not have time to correct your mistake."
He lowered his wand.
"That is why complacency is deadly."
He inhaled once, then softened his tone slightly.
"I am not telling you this to frighten you," he said. "Nor am I telling you that the world beyond these walls is nothing but danger."
He met their eyes, one row at a time.
"But it is not safe either."
Silence lingered.
"So," Ethan concluded, "when you face anyone who might pose a threat, you do not underestimate them. You do not relax. You do not assume superiority."
He nodded once.
"You expect danger. Always."
For a moment longer, no one spoke.
Then Ethan straightened.
"Now," he said briskly, "that lesson is finished."
A collective breath seemed to leave the room.
"We will move on to practice."
Interest sparked instantly.
"Starting today," Ethan continued, "every ten students will enter the dueling arena during class."
He turned and walked toward the side table near the teacher's desk.
Several students leaned forward as he reached for a worn leather bag resting beneath it.
"This," he said, lifting it, "is something I acquired during my time as an Auror in France."
He placed it on the table and opened it.
With a smooth motion, he drew his wand and murmured an incantation.
The air shimmered.
Then, one by one, ten figures appeared on the dueling floor.
Gasps erupted around the room.
They stood in a straight line, each the height and shape of a fully grown wizard. Their bodies were carved of dark wood, polished smooth, with no facial features whatsoever. Each held a wooden wand clenched in a rigid hand.
They were statues, carved in perfect stillness. Yet an instinct screamed that something was off. Their postures were too alert, too perfectly balanced for imminent movement, far beyond the rigid poise of ordinary wood. It was as if they waited only for the right moment to step forward.