Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

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As she looked at the proud and stubborn young girl before her, Ilona suddenly found herself reminiscing about her own youth.

While Ilona was lost in thought, Cedric stepped forward from the Hufflepuff students, declaring resolutely:

"The duel isn't over yet."

Seeing the situation, Ilona hesitated no longer and announced:

"Round five of the duel between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Representing Slytherin: Cassandra! Representing Hufflepuff: Cedric! Both contestants, prepare yourselves!"

Cassandra and Cedric exchanged bows in mutual respect before turning and walking to their respective positions. As Ilona signaled the start of the duel, both turned simultaneously—one's wand aimed at the opponent, the other's at herself.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

The duel began in earnest, with spells firing back and forth. The intensity of the duel quickly escalated, the flurry of spells lighting up the center of the arena in explosive bursts. Neither side seemed able to gain the upper hand.

Perhaps it was the balance of skill between the two competitors, but this duel—between a second-year from Hufflepuff and a first-year from Slytherin—proved far more thrilling than the earlier matches.

The flurry of dazzling spells rekindled the excitement in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Hufflepuff supporters, secure in their lead, cheered wildly for Cedric, while the Slytherins found solace in Cassandra's remarkable performance, proud that she could hold her own against an upper-year student.

In the midst of the escalating duel, Wentworth observed as Cassandra and Cedric's Disarming Charms collided, intertwining in midair, locked in a battle of sheer magical force.

Wentworth's thoughts turned inward:

"What kind of prodigies are these?! Cedric is understandable—he's destined to be Hogwarts' champion in the Triwizard Tournament, a true contender for the best at Hogwarts. But Cassandra? A girl I've never even heard of in the original story, performing at this level?

Look at those spells! Merlin's beard, I don't think I could counter any of them!"

As he marveled at the duel, Wentworth couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency and pressure. What had once been a curious adventure now seemed fraught with hidden perils.

A collective gasp from the audience pulled Wentworth from his thoughts. When he refocused on the duel, Cedric's Disarming Charm was steadily pushing closer to Cassandra's wand. Cassandra's face, once pale and delicate, was now ashen, drenched in sweat that smeared her immaculate makeup.

"She's reaching her limit," murmured a nearby Hufflepuff student to Wentworth. "Cassandra's magical reserves can't match Cedric's. Against any other second-year Hufflepuff, she might have managed to pull off an upset, but Cedric is on another level."

Though Cedric seemed poised for victory, the Hufflepuff student spoke with a tone of regret rather than triumph.

On the field, Cedric spoke up, his voice steady but concerned:

"Cassandra, give up. Your magical energy must be nearly depleted."

Cassandra, however, gritted her teeth, refusing to respond. She pushed herself harder, pouring everything into her spell.

The classroom erupted into scattered applause, which grew louder and spread across the room. Under the crescendo of cheers, Cassandra finally faltered. Her spell broke, her body weakened, and she nearly collapsed.

In that critical moment, two figures moved simultaneously to catch her.

Professor Ilona, their Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, waved her hand effortlessly, dissipating Cedric's spell without even drawing her wand.

The other figure was none other than Professor Snape, the Head of Slytherin House. He stepped in front of Cassandra and caught her by the shoulder, preventing her from falling.

Facing her head of house, Cassandra lowered her head in shame.

"Professor Snape," she murmured, her voice trembling, "I'm sorry. I failed. I've disgraced Slytherin." Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke.

From a short distance away, Cedric's voice rang out:

"Cassandra, this duel isn't about winning or losing. You haven't failed."

Cedric approached, intent on checking if Cassandra was all right, but she cut him off, snapping:

"You don't have to console me! A loss is a loss. Do you think I can't take it? Next time, I'll beat you. Mark my words, Cedric—this isn't over!"

Startled at first, Cedric soon chuckled warmly.

"Cassandra, if you insist on thinking of this as a loss, then fine. But you didn't lose to me—you lost to yourself. And for the record, I'm not admitting to a win either!"

He paused, then added with a grin:

"If you want a rematch, don't challenge me. I'm a year older, so beating you wouldn't be a bragging point, and losing would be humiliating. Go pick on him instead!"

Cedric pointed directly at Wentworth.

"Wait, what?" Wentworth muttered, utterly baffled.

But this time, something stirred within Wentworth. Avoidance wouldn't protect him forever, he realized. Unless he intended to stay hidden in the safety of Hogwarts for life, challenges like this were inevitable.

Instead of deflecting, he stepped forward. Cassandra, sensing his approach, straightened her posture despite her exhaustion. Professor Snape released her and stepped aside.

Leaning close, Wentworth whispered,

"You're upset because I stepped in last time, right? Fine. Rest up. I'll accept your duel. I might not win, but I'll give it my all. Worst case? You can beat me to your heart's content."

Cassandra was about to smile, but her body betrayed her exhaustion. Her knees buckled, and she fainted.

Quick as lightning, Wentworth caught her. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a chilling voice pierced the air:

"And just what did you say to my student?"

It was Snape.