Chapter 53: Duel with Orion
Orion could not ignore what he had seen of Regulus since infancy.
Magic at ten months. Complete sentences at one. A grasp of spellwork and theory that had never matched his age.
Reason, and memory, both told him that Regulus might be speaking plainly.
"To what extent can you actually perform right now?" Orion asked.
Regulus did not answer directly.
"If Father wants to know," he said, "then test it yourself."
Something unreadable flickered in Orion's eyes as he rose.
"Come with me."
At the end of the study hung a portrait of the House of Black that looked ordinary to any outsider. Orion stepped closer and tapped the Sirius motif at the lower right with his wand.
The portrait slid aside, revealing a concealed stone door. Complex runes were carved across its surface. Orion murmured an incantation. The runes flared red, and the door ground open.
Beyond lay the Black family training room, wide and austere, with a floor of hard black stone. Protective runes were set into the walls. Targets and training props sat stacked in the corners.
Regulus had been brought here a few times as a child, but never allowed to push himself. Orion had always drawn a line at anything that might injure him.
"Do not hold back," Orion said as he walked to the centre. He drew his wand, dark green robes stirring behind him. "Treat it like a real duel."
Regulus drew his wand as well, fingers closing around the familiar wood.
In his mind, the four star configuration turned steadily. Magic flowed through the paths he had carved with Starry Sky Meditation, spreading through sinew and breath as naturally as blood.
"Begin."
Orion's wand was already up.
A silent Expelliarmus snapped forward like lightning, aimed straight at Regulus's chest.
Regulus shifted his feet and let it cut past him. At the same time, he tapped the floor with his wand. A shield formed at once, tight and unseen, catching the Impediment Jinx that followed.
He moved fast, weaving through the room to avoid the next wave.
Orion's attacks came dense and clean. Expelliarmus. Impediment. The Leg Locker Curse. Petrificus Totalus. One after another without pause.
The magical pressure behind each spell was heavy and compact, the weight of years made tangible.
As the thirteenth head of the House of Black, and a member of the Wizengamot, Orion was far beyond the average adult wizard. A man who could hold a seat in the Wizengamot and keep the Blacks steady on the edge of coming turmoil was never going to be ordinary.
Regulus's defence held.
He did not raise a broad shield and hope. Instead, he read each spell's angle and speed, then formed a small shield precisely where it needed to be. Sometimes he rolled aside. Sometimes he took quick steps that looked almost like flickers, shifting position before the curse could bite.
His movements were spare and efficient, without wasted motion. His body answered quickly, honed by long months of magic guided conditioning.
"Not bad," Orion said, voice carrying in the stone room, "but not enough."
The force of his spellwork surged.
He snapped his wand toward the wall. Stone cracked. Several boulders tore loose and hurtled toward Regulus, whistling through the air.
Regulus narrowed his eyes and chose not to meet them head on.
His wand moved in rapid succession. Multiple Blasting Curses struck at once, shattering the boulders into fragments.
In the same breath, water formed in midair, gathering fast. It swept up dust and grit, then snapped into countless sharp needles that fired toward Orion.
Approval flashed across Orion's expression.
He waved his wand. The watery darts stopped midflight, ignited into black flame, and burned to ash in an instant.
He continued, abandoning conventional spellwork.
The air turned thick, almost syrupy. Pressure closed around Regulus from every side, as if invisible walls were pushing inward.
An Oppression Curse.
Dark magic that acted directly on the body. The more a target struggled, the greater the squeeze, until bone and breath gave way.
Regulus inhaled once and let his magic erupt.
A constant shield flared outward from his body, separating him from the crushing force.
Then he moved to offence.
With a light flick of his wand, several silent Expelliarmus spells shot toward Orion from different angles.
At the same moment, stone spikes thrust up from the floor, cutting off Orion's path. Their tips glowed faintly red, each one laced with Blasting Curses.
Orion had not expected a counterattack so sudden, nor so layered.
He threw up a wide shield to block the disarming spells. Then he pushed off the ground and leapt into the air to avoid the spikes.
As he landed, the tip of his wand glimmered with a black red light. A distinct Dark Arts curse snapped out, silent and viciously fast.
Regulus had anticipated it.
He threw himself backward. The curse grazed his shoulder and struck the wall behind, leaving a scorched mark in the stone.
He rolled with the momentum and pointed his wand at Orion's feet. Blue white flames spread instantly across the floor, forcing Orion to retreat.
The duel escalated.
Stone walls took impacts. Debris flew. Ice, fire, and jagged stone tore up the floor, leaving it pitted and uneven.
The air grew thick with residue from colliding spells. Temperature lurched from hot to cold and back again. Protective runes along the walls flared repeatedly, swallowing excess destruction before it could tear the room apart.
Orion's alarm rose as the exchange continued.
Regulus's raw magical force was not equal to his, but his precision was far beyond what Orion expected from anyone, let alone an eleven year old. His timing, transitions, and tactical choices were all too mature.
Especially his defence. It looked passive, yet it always met attacks at the critical moment. More than that, he used the environment as a weapon, turning terrain into advantage.
Many adult wizards could not fight like this.
Orion stopped holding back.
His wand movements sharpened. Dark magic and standard spells alternated seamlessly. Oppression curses. Severing charms. Bone breaking curses. Blasting curses. Lightning like strikes. Transfiguration. Everything woven into a net meant to smother Regulus.
Regulus kept breathing steady.
His eyes stayed clear.
His mind worked at speed, tracking angles, force, and intent. Dozens of small shields formed and vanished around him, each one placed to catch a specific spell. He slipped through the gaps like a swift bird, countering whenever he saw weakness.
He could feel Orion's magic flow. He could predict the next cast before the wand finished moving. Each counter was aimed at something vital, forcing Orion to adjust.
Then it happened.
A heavy Impediment Jinx struck Regulus in the shoulder with a crack that echoed in the room.
Regulus staggered a few steps.
It was a brutal hit. A normal wizard would have coughed blood. Someone weaker might have lost grip of their wand altogether.
Regulus used the retreat as cover.
A silent spell, so subtle it was almost invisible, shot from his wand and struck Orion's wand hand.
Orion's wand trembled.
His rhythm broke.
Regulus seized the opening. His magic surged and several spells fired at once, aimed at Orion's vital points.
Orion's eyes narrowed. He retreated quickly and threw up a strong shield, blocking the entire volley.
And then he realised.
Stone vines had burst from the floor and wrapped around his ankles.
Transfiguration.
So quiet, so well timed, he had not noticed it until it had already taken hold.
Orion froze for the briefest moment, then let out a low chuckle.
He tapped his wand lightly. The vines disintegrated, falling away as dust.
But the pause was enough.
Regulus closed the distance and levelled his wand at Orion's chest.
For a heartbeat, the duel balanced on that point.
Then Orion's wand flared with a dazzling white light.
Lumos Solem.
The training room flooded with brilliance.
Regulus closed his eyes on instinct.
When he opened them again, Orion was behind him. The tip of his wand rested lightly against the back of Regulus's neck.
"You lost," Orion said, calm and steady. His breathing was controlled. Dealing with Regulus at this level was still within his reach.
Regulus stopped and lowered his wand.
No frustration showed on his face. Instead, he wore a faint smile, as if the outcome had confirmed something rather than denied it.
"I understand the gap now."
Orion withdrew his wand. Emotion coloured his voice, faint but real.
"You surprise me. To reach this level at eleven years old, many adult wizards would not be your match."
He looked over the wrecked training room.
"Your control, your awareness, your understanding of magic. It is astonishing. This is not what anyone expects from a child."
"This is only six months of results," Regulus replied, putting his wand away. His breathing was slightly quicker now, but still composed. "I have not reached a bottleneck. I will only become stronger."
Orion inhaled, then nodded. He did not press for explanations. He only set a firm hand on Regulus's shoulder, the gesture weighted with pride and caution in equal measure.
"I will admit it," Orion said. "Your display at Hogwarts was restrained."
Then, after a pause, he added, with emphasis that carried genuine respect.
"Very restrained."
A sincere smile spread across Regulus's face.