Chapter 327: Duelling Club

Outside the Ravenclaw common room.

“Which came first, fire or the phoenix?”

The door knocker posed the question.

“It’s a cycle,”

Wizard Sean answered.

The door opened, and he immediately saw Luna still in the common room.

She held a magazine upside down; the name “The Quibbler” had not changed, as if enchanted by a peculiar magic.

A smudge of dirt clung to her nose, and her hair was tied into a knot atop her head. When she saw Wizard Sean, her bulging eyes seemed to brighten:

“Oh, I saw your bookstore in the paper—I guess you didn’t start writing books for Jin Jin Jialong…”

She asked, as if in a dream.

“Mm.”

At first, Wizard Sean’s notes were for his own use; only later, after Jia Jia Siting organized and published them, did they become paid content.

Wizard Sean often thought Jia Jia Siting deserved a larger share of the royalties, but in the end, they still split the earnings fifty-fifty.

“I don’t think my father would pay someone to write articles,”

Luna murmured dreamily,

“They write because they find it honorable—and of course, because they want to see their names in the paper.”

Wrapped in a blanket, she fell asleep right there as she spoke.

Wizard Sean watched her—her shoes were gone again, and her hair was still knotted…

He sighed silently.

…

Moonlight spilled onto the Ravenclaw tower windowsill, where mist always hung, neither wholly real nor wholly illusory.

Along these strange mists, faintly visible was a sign reading “Children’s Home.”

A black cat always set out from here, its chest bearing a delicate stone rune, now glowing with a faint radiance.

Beside a bizarre, swirling mist, the black cat tried many times—it could not pull both Harry and Voldemort into its realm.

The bad news: it sensed a faint resistance, the likely source of its failure;

but the good news: the resistance was weak. It had a hunch that after advancing its Soul Transformation proficiency, it could drag the feeble Voldemort into its borderland.

This meant the black cat—that is, Wizard Sean—would need to devote more time to Soul Transformation.

It also meant he must avoid the enthusiastic members of the Castle Spirit Cat Club.

The interface could still be opened in the borderland:

【You practiced Soul Transformation at the standard of a Skilled Practitioner in the Master Realm. Master-level proficiency +10】

【Material Transformation: Skilled (10/3000)】

【Soul Transformation: Beginner (210/300)】

Almost there.

Early Sunday morning, Wizard Sean opened his eyes to find winter sunlight flooding the dormitory.

In the Ravenclaw common room, there was a notice board; sometimes it displayed interesting announcements, but more often it simply listed class schedules and extracurricular notices.

Now, a crowd of Ravenclaws surrounded the board.

“It’s a new notice…”

“Duelling Club? What does that mean?”

“Literal meaning, idiot.”

Amid the noise, Wizard Sean moved closer. Some in the crowd silently parted.

One glance told him enough.

Lockhart seemed to have sensed growing resistance from Hogwarts students, especially Hermione, who had peppered him with sharp questions.

So he rushed to build his image and hastily launched the Duelling Club.

Wizard Sean once suspected this was the curse of the Dark Arts Defense class taking effect.

Thinking this, Wizard Sean carried his book into the Great Hall.

He didn’t need to care much about Lockhart—he was more concerned about tonight’s dungeons, where he had to practice potions and face Professor Snape over the Chamber of Secrets.

In the Great Hall, a small group gathered around the bulletin board, reading the freshly nailed parchment. Harry, Hermione, Jia Jia Siting, and Ron looked excited and waved Wizard Sean over.

“They’re starting a Duelling Club!”

Ron said, thrilled,

“Tonight’s the first meeting—I’ve practiced Transfiguration for so long, it’s finally useful…”

“I wonder if the Slytherin monster will duel?”

A nearby Gryffindor muttered anxiously, yet still read the notice with keen interest.

“It’ll be useful somehow.”

Harry said,

“Wizard Sean, are you going?”

After all, Wizard Sean had defeated the Basilisk alone—last night they’d even reviewed the event with Professor McGonagall…

Though McGonagall’s expression had been oddly grim, for reasons unknown.

Now, Harry even believed even an Auror couldn’t easily defeat Wizard Sean.

The Hope House members instinctively clustered Wizard Sean at the center. Wizard Sean stared at the freshly posted parchment and thought for a moment.

He wanted to see how the curse worked.

The Basilisk was dealt with. Even if Lockhart was a complete fool, how could the curse possibly force him to leave Hogwarts midway?

Afternoon.

The Duelling Club was already taking shape.

In the Great Hall, professors stood together, testing the setup.

The long tables vanished; along one wall, a gilded stage appeared, illuminated by hundreds of floating candles.

The ceiling turned velvet-black again. Nearly every student in the school had come to watch, packed tightly, all faces alight with excitement.

“Looks good—who’s going to teach us?”

Jia Jia Siting whispered, standing aside with the others at the edge of the chattering crowd.

“Someone told me Professor Flitwick was a duelling champion in his youth—maybe he’ll be our instructor.”

Hermione said.

“We’ll know tomorrow—I hope we get a chance to duel on stage—”

Ron was brimming with excitement; he’d spent the entire day in Hope House practicing and hadn’t left once.

After a year of effort, his Transfiguration had barely reached the “Skilled” level.

Now he was rubbing his hands together, eager for a proper duel against some thoroughly nasty Slytherin.

Wizard Sean glanced at the Hope House members.

He suddenly realized they had all changed dramatically.

Hermione and Jia Jia Siting, of course—but Harry’s multiple spells had reached “Skilled,” Neville’s dual wands were now dangerously unpredictable, and even Ron had made substantial progress.

Environment truly could change a wizard.

Wizard Sean thought silently. Professor Snape’s final Potions class of the afternoon was about to begin.

Today, Gryffindor and Slytherin had class together.

Since first year, every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, after classes, Wizard Sean had gone to the dungeons each evening to practice potion-making.

In the dungeons, under unusually tense air, Potions class finally ended.

Wizards streamed out of the dark underground classroom like birds released from a cage.

Harry, naturally, was kept behind to clean the table of hairy caterpillars.

Wizard Sean had already appeared at the dungeon entrance, watching Harry. Harry met his gaze unexpectedly—both their expressions were grim.