Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

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PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON

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As Wentworth stepped into the center of the arena to face off against Waylin, the entire crowd finally confirmed what seemed unbelievable—Hufflepuff's first representative was, indeed, Wentworth!

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students erupted into murmurs. Some were incredulous, others openly mocking, while a few appeared pensive.

"Kirk! What are you playing at? I told you I'd go first! Slytherin's lineup is supposed to run from fifth-years down to first-years! And you let a first-year take your spot? Are you scared?"

Waylin, upon realizing his opponent was not his usual rival Kirk but instead a first-year Hufflepuff, felt deeply insulted. He turned toward the Hufflepuff crowd and shouted angrily.

Kirk, however, seemed entirely unbothered. He continued chatting casually with Cedric Diggory, completely ignoring Waylin's outburst.

It was Professor McGonagall who finally stepped in, offering a thoughtful reminder.

"Kirk, are you sure you haven't mixed up your lineup? You were meant to go from fifth-year downwards. If this is an error, I can allow you to adjust it now."

Kirk turned respectfully to Professor McGonagall and replied, "No need, Professor. As per our prior agreement, once the lineup is submitted to Professor Ilona, it cannot be changed. This was a rule proposed by Hufflepuff, and we intend to uphold it. After all, we wouldn't want certain people refusing to admit defeat if they lost!"

As he spoke, Kirk cast a pointed glance at Waylin, who gritted his teeth in frustration. Unable to retort, Waylin turned to his Head of House, Professor Snape, for support.

Yet Snape seemed entirely uninterested in Waylin's plea, too preoccupied with exchanging subtle glances with Dumbledore.

Snape: "Dumbledore, could Wentworth truly have mastered spells beyond a fifth-year's level? That's impossible! Even if he's learned them, he's only eleven—he doesn't have that kind of magical power."

Dumbledore: "Why are you looking at me? How should I know?"

Snape: "Can't you use Legilimency to check?"

Dumbledore: "If I could, I would have done so already! Wentworth has mastered Occlumency."

Snape: "…He's only eleven. I've been revising my expectations of him, but I still underestimated him."

Dumbledore: "Let's just watch and see."

Meanwhile, Waylin turned toward a tall, lanky third-year Slytherin standing behind him. This boy was Snape's chosen representative for the third-year duel.

"Hey, Hufflepuff might have botched their lineup. That means the third-year duel could decide everything. Do you feel confident?"

The boy cast a glance toward the Hufflepuff section and smirked arrogantly.

"Relax, Prefect. Apart from two Ravenclaws, there's no one in our year who can match me—least of all anyone from Hufflepuff."

Reassured, Waylin turned back to Wentworth with a sneer.

"Wentworth, you're out of luck. Don't worry, though—I won't use anything too nasty. But if the spell knocks you off your feet and you get hurt, don't come crying to me!"

Wentworth, unfazed, replied calmly, "Senior Waylin, if you can do it, go ahead. That is, if you can hit me."

With both sides agreeing to the lineup, Professor Ilona stepped into the center of the arena and announced, "Since both sides are ready, the duel will now commence. Bow to your opponent!"

At her command, Wentworth and Waylin each bowed deeply to the other. They raised their wands to their faces, held them upright, and then lowered them sharply.

They turned and walked toward the edges of the dueling stage, waiting for Ilona's final signal.

The atmosphere grew tense. Even the normally rowdy Weasley twins fell silent, holding their breath as they watched the two duelists. Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall fixed their gazes on Wentworth, scrutinizing his every move.

As the two opponents reached their positions, Professor Ilona's voice rang out:

"Begin!"

Waylin spun around instantly, raising his wand and shouting, "Expelliarm—"

But before he could finish, Wentworth remained completely composed. Without turning, he raised a hand and calmly said, "I concede."

The crowd erupted into chaos. Gryffindor and Slytherin students jeered loudly, their boos echoing across the arena.

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a glance, their expressions heavy with thought.

Both men thought the same thing: Even in this situation, Wentworth refuses to reveal his true strength. How many secrets is this boy hiding?

Waylin, meanwhile, nearly choked on his own spit. He had won the duel, but the victory felt utterly hollow.

Just as Wentworth was about to step off the stage, Waylin clenched his teeth and finished casting his spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell shot toward Wentworth's back, catching the crowd off guard. Gasps echoed through the arena as they realized Waylin had attacked after the concession.

"Finite Incantatem!"

A second spell streaked through the air, intercepting Waylin's Disarming Charm and dissipating it harmlessly. The caster was none other than Professor Ilona, one of the duel's referees.

Wentworth, hearing the commotion behind him, turned slightly and glanced at Waylin. His expression was calm, but his mocking smile stung worse than any spell.

"I told you, Senior Waylin—you have to hit me first."

Without waiting for a response, Wentworth turned and rejoined the Hufflepuff crowd.

Unlike the jeers from Gryffindor and Slytherin, Hufflepuff students erupted into thunderous cheers as Wentworth returned, their enthusiasm unshaken by his unconventional victory.