Chapter 75: A Lesson, A Duel
The atmosphere around them instantly grew tense. Slytherins instinctively avoided his gaze, some even taking involuntary steps back. Only Malfoy forced out a defiant line: “This is between Slytherin and Gryffindor—stay out of it, Wade Gray!”
“Draco—” Theo Nott tugged at his arm, whispering, “This isn’t worth it anymore. Let’s go—”
“It’s because of me!” Neville summoned courage, voice trembling slightly. “I ran into them on the way—Malfoy cast the Leg-Lock Spell on me. He said he wanted someone to practice it on—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—they stepped in to help me, and then Malfoy called Hermione—called her a—”
“Neville!” Michael snapped sharply.
Neville’s voice cut off abruptly. He blinked, then slowly realized what had just happened. His eyes darted to Wade, wide with sudden panic.
For a moment, everyone in the clearing seemed to remember—there was still one person here who wasn’t a wizard by blood.
Wade had never mentioned his parents publicly. He’d only said they were non-magical, that neither of them possessed magic. But in the wizarding world, Muggle-born and Muggle were seen as nearly the same—though Muggle-borns were even more despised. After all, Muggles had once brought about earth-shattering changes to the world. What had Muggle-borns done? Nothing. They were merely discarded scraps, cast aside by the magical community.
When he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, Wade had been scorned for being born to a non-magical family. But soon, he’d crushed every prejudice with sheer ability. No one spoke of his bloodline anymore. In fact, many of his classmates now assumed he was a Pure-blood, raised in elite magical tradition—only that could explain why he so effortlessly outshone them.
Now, the truth resurfaced. Everyone remembered: Wade Gray was, in fact, also from a non-magical family.
The air grew utterly still. The faint murmurs faded into silence so profound that one could almost hear their own breath.
Theo Nott released Malfoy’s arm.
“So that’s it,” Wade said calmly, turning to Malfoy. “Practicing spells between classmates—nothing unusual, right?”
He tilted his head slightly, a faint, unsettling smile playing on his lips. “I’ve just learned a new spell. I’d like to ask you, Malfoy—would you be so kind as to give me a little lesson?”
If Wade had screamed, charged forward like Harry, or even looked furious, Malfoy might have felt more at ease. But this calm, almost amused expression—like he wasn’t even angry—was far more terrifying.
“What—what—” Malfoy gripped his wand tightly, stammering.
If he’d looked in a mirror, he’d have seen himself mirroring Neville’s earlier fear—only worse. There was more shame, more cowardice in his face now.
Wade raised his wand, bowed slightly, his cold eyes fixed ahead.
“Bowing, Malfoy.”
“I—I refuse—” Malfoy instinctively rejected it, raising his wand, trying to justify himself. “I was talking about Granger—she’s the one—she’s the Mudblood—not you! It was Longbottom who said it—”
This person… so cruel, yet so naive… Wade sighed inwardly. His wand flashed.
“Expelliarmus!”
A blinding red streak shot through the air. Malfoy was thrown backward, crashing into Crabbe behind him. His wand flew from his hand, clattering to the ground—right at Theo Nott’s feet.
Theo glanced around, then stepped back, not picking it up.
No one noticed. Everyone was staring at the golden-haired boy, curled on the ground.
Pansy Parkinson started to move—then froze as Michael casually pointed his wand at her, smiling.
“I don’t usually hit girls, Pansy. Don’t make me break my rule.”
Theo and Liam stood tensed, eyes locked on the other Slytherins, ready to act.
No one moved. Not even Malfoy’s two hulking cronies. They just stared, dazed, at their fallen leader—too stunned to even think about helping him up.
Malfoy groaned, clutching his head as he pushed himself up. He glared at Wade, shouting, “Don’t think I’m scared of you, Wade Gray! Do you know who my father is?”
Wade simply kicked the wand back toward him.
“Go ahead.”
Malfoy snatched it up, his arm trembling. Rage and hatred burned in his chest—but beneath it, fear festered. This wasn’t Granger, the bookish know-it-all. This was Wade Gray, rumored to know more spells than some fifth-years.
“Oh,” Wade said mockingly, “I almost forgot the countdown.”
He smirked. “After all, I’m just a Mudblood. Can’t be expected to know the proper Pure-blood protocol, can I?”
The word Mudblood landed like a slap across the Slytherin ranks. Faces shifted—some pale, others flushed with embarrassment.
“Now,” Wade continued, voice smooth as ice, “if I remember correctly—count to three, Malfoy. Then the first spell.”
Malfoy clenched his teeth, eyes darting.
“One… two…”
Before he even reached three, Malfoy swung his wand wildly.
“Legs Stiffen and Lock!”
Wade had already anticipated it. As soon as Malfoy opened his mouth, he dodged—just in time. The spell struck Theo Nott, who had been pretending to vanish beside them. His legs instantly fused together. He fell hard with a thud.
“Three.”
Wade counted calmly. Then raised his wand once more.
“Tarantallegra!”
Malfoy’s legs began to jerk uncontrollably, flailing like a dancer in a wild, manic jig. But even as he tried to lunge forward, his upper body twisted in the opposite direction. The imbalance twisted his spine—crack—and he collapsed, joining Theo on the ground.
Even so, his legs kept twitching, yanking at his injured back. Malfoy howled in agony.
The sight was absurd. Even some Slytherins couldn’t help a snort of laughter.
Malfoy’s face turned red, then pale. He glared, but from his angle, the world was a blur of shifting colors—familiar faces twisted into cold, indifferent masks. He couldn’t tell who was mocking him.
Wade waited, letting the silence stretch. The Slytherins stood frozen, watching.
To outsiders, it looked like they were all in cahoots—ganging up on one lone Malfoy.
Only when Malfoy was on the verge of sobbing did Wade finally step forward. He lifted his wand, and the spell released.
He crouched beside the trembling, sweating boy, voice soft, sincere.
“Is bullying fun?”
Malfoy stared up at him, breath ragged, eyes wide with fear. He said nothing.
Wade smiled—then stood.
The Slytherins parted without a word, watching as he walked away with the others.
No one spoke. No one stopped him.
(End of Chapter)
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