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In the center of the dueling arena, Loki was in real danger. One more second and he'd be hit by the Wind Arrow, which could knock him out of the match. But despite the situation, Loki stayed calm. He raised his wand and chanted, "Kinmiice"—a strange-sounding spell.
A massive surge of magical energy burst out of him, triggering a frost storm that swept through the arena. The wind chains that had bound him shattered instantly, and Loki walked out unscathed. The Wind Arrow just barely grazed his left arm and missed.
Malfoy, meanwhile, was frozen solid by the icy blast that engulfed the entire arena. Even though speed was usually his strength, there was nothing he could do against a spell that covered such a wide area.
"You? You can already cast a Level 2 Ice Ring spell?" Malfoy stared in disbelief. It hadn't even been a full month, and Loki had already mastered a Level 2 spell? Anyone who hadn't gone through the process wouldn't understand how tough it was to reach full control over Level 2 magic. For Malfoy, Loki pulling this off was completely unthinkable.
"Just got lucky. A few days ago, I broke through during meditation and advanced from apprentice to full-fledged wizard." Loki's tone was modest. He didn't look smug at all—he just looked at Malfoy with a kind of pity.
"Forget it, I give up," Malfoy grumbled as he waved his hand and walked out of the arena. "Fighting a real wizard as an apprentice? That's just asking for a beating."
"Loki, your progress is fast—but don't let your pace become your main focus," Augustus said, unfazed by Loki's performance. "Strength matters, sure, but your state of mind needs to grow with it. A wizard's insight and mental state come first—only then does magical skill matter. Just don't put the cart before the horse."
Next up was the duel between Malfoy and Lillian. No surprise there—Malfoy lost. Lillian was already a mid-level apprentice, and she specialized in fire magic, which was all about offense. Malfoy stood no chance. Losing to Lillian was expected, but he clearly couldn't accept it. Even after everyone left the Room of Requirement, he still had a sour look on his face.
Monday morning, news spread like wildfire across the school—Colin Creevey had been attacked. He was now lying in the hospital wing, looking practically dead. Rumors exploded everywhere, and paranoia gripped the student body. First-years stuck together in tight groups, scared to go anywhere alone in case they were next.
During this time, students secretly traded protective charms, talismans, and any random stuff they thought might keep them safe. This trend caught on fast. Neville Longbottom ended up buying a reeking onion, a sharp purple crystal, and the rotting tail of a newt. Eventually, the other Gryffindor boys told him not to worry—he was pure-blood, so he probably wouldn't be targeted.
"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face full of worry. "Everyone knows I'm practically a Squib."
Potions class was held in a big underground room. Thursday afternoon's lesson started out like usual. There were twenty cauldrons between the wooden desks, with brass scales and jars of ingredients laid out.
Snape stalked through the room like a shadow, criticizing the Gryffindors harshly while the Slytherins smirked from the sidelines.
Draco Malfoy, Snape's favorite, kept making fish-eyed faces at Ron and Harry. Ron and Harry both knew better than to react. One look the wrong way and they'd be stuck in detention before they could even explain.
Harry's Swelling Solution was way too watery—his mind was clearly elsewhere. He was waiting for a signal from Hermione. When Snape came over to mock his potion, Harry barely heard him. Once Snape turned away to pick on Neville, Hermione caught Harry's eye and gave a tiny nod.
Harry ducked behind his cauldron, pulled out a string of Fred's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, and tapped them quickly with his wand. They started sparking and hissing. He only had a few seconds. He stood up, aimed, and tossed them—right into Goyle's cauldron.
Augustus glanced at Harry, confused. What the heck was this kid doing? Stirring up trouble in Snape's class? That wasn't like him—unless they were plotting something bigger and needed a distraction.
Knowing Harry's personality, it was hard to imagine him pulling a Fred-and-George-style stunt. Even the twins wouldn't mess with Snape in class.
Goyle's cauldron exploded. Swelling Solution went flying everywhere, splashing on students all around. Chaos erupted. Screams rang out as people got soaked in the potion. Malfoy got a face full of it—his nose started inflating like a balloon.
Goyle clutched his eyes and stumbled around blindly. His eyeballs had puffed up to the size of dinner plates.
Snape shouted, trying to restore order and figure out what happened. In the middle of the chaos, Harry spotted Hermione slipping quietly out of the classroom.
Augustus noticed too. So, the trio was off on another secret mission, he thought with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. He knelt beside Malfoy and cast a minor healing spell. The burns and swelling on Malfoy's face and head faded immediately.
Malfoy gave him a grateful nod before spinning around, furious, scanning the room like he was hunting for the culprit.
"Quiet! Quiet!" Snape roared. "Anyone who got splashed, come here for a dose of the antidote. And once I find out who did this..." He didn't finish the threat, but the look on his face said it all.
Harry bit his lip to hold in his laughter as half the class scrambled to Snape's desk. Some kids had arms so swollen they couldn't even lift them. Others had mouths puffed up so big they couldn't talk.
Hermione slipped back into the room, a bulge hidden under the front of her robes.
Once everyone had taken the antidote and the swelling had gone down, Snape marched over to Goyle's cauldron. He scooped out the twisted, charred remains of the fireworks. The whole room went dead silent.
"The moment I find out who threw this…" Snape said in a dangerously low voice, "they're getting expelled."
Harry did his best to keep his face blank. Snape was staring straight at him. Thank Merlin the bell rang ten minutes later.
Augustus watched the trio hurry out of the classroom with an amused smile. Snape hadn't managed to pin it on them. Lucky kids.
Wherever there's mischief, there's bound to be adventure and adrenaline. He could only wonder—what bizarre, top-secret plan were they up to this time?
"....."