Fleur and Barre were the first to take their leave. After finishing his drink, Sean rose from the table, and with Aldrich and Jensen in tow, made his way out of the Great Hall.
They had barely crossed the threshold when a voice called out, stopping them in their tracks.
"Are you the guy from Hogwarts?"
Sean turned. The speaker was a boy of about sixteen or seventeen, likely a fifth or sixth-year. Sean recognized him—he'd been one of the group on the Quidditch pitch earlier.
"You're with those children playing Quidditch?" Sean asked, his tone level.
The boy's eye twitched. "We are not children!" he snapped.
"Your methods suggest otherwise," Sean replied coolly, not raising his voice. "Let's analyze this, shall we? You were punished by Professor Moreau for causing a scene. Lacking the courage to confront him, you decided to target me, the convenient outsider. Your brilliant plan was to... hit me with a Quaffle. When that failed spectacularly and resulted in your friend's broom being destroyed, you decided to wait for me here. You waited a very long time, I might add, because you didn't dare approach while Fleur and Barre were present.
"So, you're waiting now to salvage your pathetic pride. And since private fights are likely forbidden, you plan to challenge me to a formal duel. You want to teach me a lesson in a controlled environment, make me look foolish, and satisfy your childish ego. Am I close?"
Sean's clinical deconstruction left the other boy utterly speechless. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words came out. Every thought, every pathetic motivation had been laid bare with surgical precision. For a moment, he wondered if Sean had used Legilimency on him.
"You... you..." the boy finally stammered, his face flushing with anger and humiliation. He took a breath, puffing out his chest. "You've said so much because you're scared! You want to refuse our duel!"
"No," Sean said, a flicker of something sharp and eager in his eyes. "On the contrary. I accept."
Just kidding? Sean thought, a wild, almost feral joy surging within him. How could I possibly turn down a duel delivered right to my door? I've been stockpiling gifts from the system for days with no chance to test my strength. Refuse? Only a fool would refuse.
Outwardly, he remained the picture of calm indifference. "Don't waste my time," he pressed. "When and where?"
The challenger stared at him, his bravado faltering. He couldn't understand it. He felt as if the tables had been completely turned. This first-year from Hogwarts—a rising second-year—seemed more eager for the duel than he was. Was the boy insane?
"You... you really agree?"
"Are all Beauxbatons students this slow?" Sean asked, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice. "A time and a place. Now."
"This is what you asked for," the boy finally managed, regaining a sliver of his composure. "Tomorrow. Ten in the morning. The dueling room on the basement level."
"Fine. I'll be there."
With a dismissive wave, Sean turned and walked away, not looking back. The challenger was left standing there, feeling strangely as though he were the one who had been cornered and challenged. He had gotten what he wanted, but the victory felt hollow, leaving no sense of accomplishment at all.
Back in their dormitory, Sean changed into more comfortable clothes and sat down at his desk, preparing to continue his study of alchemy. After a short while, however, he noticed Aldrich standing quietly nearby. While not actively disturbing him, it was out of character. Usually, his butler would be occupied with his own tasks—reading, or perhaps writing in his diary. To be standing there so idly meant something was on his mind.
Sean put down his quill. "Aldrich. If you have something to say, just say it."
"Young Master," Aldrich began, his voice laced with professional concern, "are you truly planning to go through with the duel tomorrow?"
"Of course. I will be there." Sean knew what his butler was worried about. "Aldrich, you've only just joined me. Some things may not be clear to you yet. You'll understand tomorrow."
Hearing the finality in Sean's tone, Aldrich said no more. Whatever his private thoughts, his young master had made a decision. It was a butler's duty to support it.
The next morning at eight, Sean woke with a yawn. He had stayed up late reading and, with a duel scheduled for ten, decided to grant himself an extra hour of sleep.
At nine-forty, flanked by Aldrich and Jensen, he descended to the basement level of the chateau. As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, a student—clearly one of yesterday's group—was there to guide them to the dueling room.
Compared to Aldrich's quiet apprehension, Jensen was surprisingly confident. As a fellow Slytherin, he was well aware of Sean's dueling record. He had watched Sean go from a disliked newcomer to one of the most respected and feared students in their house, a status earned step-by-step through countless duels. More than that, he knew Sean and the Boy-Who-Lived had stopped Professor Quirrell's attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone. No matter how weak people claimed Quirrell was, a man capable of such a scheme was no pushover. If Sean could handle him, these Beauxbatons bullies would be no problem at all.
The dueling room was a long, rectangular chamber. In its center was a raised, narrow platform where the combatants would stand. When Sean entered, he was surprised to find it was already crowded. It wasn't just the Quidditch players; many other students who had remained for the holiday were there, their faces alight with anticipation. He even saw Barre in the crowd, who gave him a small, encouraging wave.
His challenger from the previous night swaggered over to him. "It's not too late to apologize and admit defeat," he sneered. "Otherwise, you'll be spending the rest of your holiday in our hospital wing."
Sean met his gaze with a look of profound boredom. "I'm in a hurry to get to the library. Stop talking nonsense and let's duel."
***********
✨ 300 gems = 1 bonus chapter
✨ 500 gems = another bonus chapter
Get access to advanced chapters at my P@treon.
[email protected]/meowthtl