Chapter 72: Dueling Club

As Cui Ge had said during the self-inspection meeting, after acquiring new information, people’s views on matters often change. After the meeting ended, Malfoy told Harry that he had begun to doubt the diary again. But out of courtesy among classmates, his suggestion was that if no further attacks occurred, it might not be necessary to pursue the matter to the very end.

Harry made no reply; he felt that much useful information had already been uncovered regarding the Heir of Slytherin, yet under mutual corroboration, the entire affair had become even more obscure.

On Monday’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Tang Nade still led the students in laps, taught them movement techniques, and had them spar with each other—Harry thought the class might as well be renamed Wizard Physical Training.

Just before class ended, Tang Nade clapped to gather the students and announced: “Because Headmaster Dumbledore is concerned about the Chamber, and to prevent further student attacks, a Dueling Club organized jointly by several professors will meet every Thursday at eight p.m. in the Great Hall. Participation is officially voluntary, but I strongly recommend everyone attend.”

“Unless you’d rather be helpless when attacked,” Tang Nade added, his tone light, almost careless.

Harry was very curious about this school-wide Dueling Club; at eight p.m. on Thursday, he arrived at the Great Hall on time. The long tables were gone, replaced by a golden stage against the wall, lit by thousands of candles; the ceiling was deep purple, as if the entire training class were enclosed beneath it—all faces alight with excitement, wands in hand.

“I wonder who’s teaching us?” Ron said as they approached the chattering crowd. “Someone told me Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion in his youth—maybe it’s him.”

“But his dueling style might not suit us,” Harry observed objectively, since Professor Flitwick’s height differed greatly from most students’.

Then they saw Tang Nade step onto the stage, wearing a white shirt and red tie beneath his robe, beside him Snape in his usual black robes.

Tang Nade waved for silence, then called out: “At Professor Dumbledore’s invitation, the Dueling Club is now open to all students. Its purpose is to ensure everyone—even those with little talent—gains adequate self-defense skills, because you’ll likely need these abilities far more often than you imagine.”

“I’m honored to have Professor Snape demonstrate the first lesson.” Tang Nade grinned broadly at Snape, who merely gave a cold sneer.

“We’ll begin with our first demonstration: I’ll duel Professor Snape using the most common spell techniques.” Tang Nade raised his wand like a sword; Snape did the same.

They bowed to each other, then began counting: one, two, three.

“Expelliarmus!” Snape shouted; his wand tip shot a dazzling red light, but Tang Nade sidestepped lightly to the left.

“Protego!” Snape cast a Shield Charm on himself, then used his wand to deflect Tang Nade’s Disarming Charm.

They exchanged several rounds of spells; suddenly Tang Nade called out: “Enough, Professor Snape—I believe the students have seen enough.”

Snape nodded coldly and lowered his wand.

Harry could clearly see that Snape’s spells were stronger: several times his Disarming Charm had shattered Tang Nade’s Shield Charm outright, while Tang Nade’s spells required two hits to break Snape’s defenses.

“Tang Nade can’t beat Snape,” Harry whispered to Ron. “If they keep going, he’ll lose.”

“Alright, these are the two spells we’ll teach in the Dueling Club: Expelliarmus and Protego. Lower-year students should practice Expelliarmus first, as Protego is somewhat difficult to cast. But before we begin, I’d like Professor Snape to demonstrate true self-defense—no rules, no restrictions, the only goal being to defeat your opponent. Of course, here at Hogwarts, we’ll keep our demonstrations within what students learn in class.”

“Agreed,” Snape replied.

“Watch closely—this is real combat,” Ron whispered.

“We’ll count to three silently, then begin.” After a brief pause, Tang Nade tucked his wand into his sleeve.

Harry counted to three in his mind, then saw Tang Nade’s robe suddenly fly forward, while a faint red flash flickered near his left hand.

Snape’s lips moved rapidly; he cast Protego in an instant, then watched Tang Nade warily. When he spotted the red flash from the left, he startled and swiftly deflected it with his wand.

Tang Nade’s robe instantly reshaped into a sword, held in his right hand—he now wielded wand in left, sword in right, casting spells while charging toward Snape.

Snape calmly deflected several of Tang Nade’s Disarming Charms. Harry thought anyone seeing a steel blade swing toward their head would be terrified—Snape seemed no exception; his movements betrayed rare hesitation.

But the blade struck Snape’s Protego, merely startling him. They quickly exchanged another Disarming Charm; Harry saw Snape’s spell shatter Tang Nade’s Shield Charm, while Tang Nade’s only dimmed Snape’s, failing to break it.

Face-to-face, they cast another Disarming Charm simultaneously. Tang Nade’s wand flew from his hand uncontrollably; Snape’s Shield Charm was merely shattered.

Harry nearly assumed Snape had won the moment he saw the wand fly—but then he noticed Tang Nade’s sword resting on Snape’s shoulder, and Snape’s Shield Charm was gone.

“Professor Snape,” Tang Nade smiled, “which is faster—your spell, or my sword?”

“Yours,” Snape growled.

“Students, you’ve surely noticed that Professor Snape’s spellcraft surpasses mine,” Tang Nade admitted without hesitation. “I didn’t defeat him—new, unrestricted dueling philosophy defeated the old honor-bound dueling tradition.”

“Good physical conditioning helps compensate for deficiencies in spellcraft,” Tang Nade picked up his wand; the sword in his right hand reverted to his robe. “And wielding two weapons simultaneously gives you a major advantage in Disarming Charm duels.”

Harry recalled how Quirrell had disarmed his pistol last year—but Harry seized the chance and countered with his own Disarming Charm.

If I face Voldemort, Harry thought silently, I’ll first break his Protego with Expelliarmus, then as he disarms my wand, I’ll shoot him point-blank in the head.

“Alright, pair up and begin practicing,” Tang Nade said, dividing the crowd.

“This is a rare chance to settle personal grudges,” he grinned wickedly, shoving Harry toward Malfoy. “Ron and Neville can pair up.”

“I don’t think we have any grudge,” Malfoy chuckled. “But I’ll defeat you, Harry.”

“Then come,” Harry raised both hands before him; he doubted Malfoy knew Protego, so he planned to trade Disarming Charms, then close in and use his physical advantage.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted—but Malfoy anticipated it, sidestepped the spell, and countered with Tarantallegra.

The minor hex, lacking trajectory, forced Harry’s legs into uncontrollable tap-dancing, making it impossible for him to move and dodge Malfoy’s next spell.

“Expelli…” “Densaugeo!” Harry interrupted with a Teeth-Growing Hex; now he sported two long incisors and couldn’t cast anything.

But Malfoy didn’t yield—he cast a Transfiguration spell; a thick, long black snake slithered from his wand tip, landing on the floor, rearing up and hissing. Nearby girls screamed.

Harry was startled too; seeing the snake bare its fangs, he shouted without thinking: “Stay away from me!”

The snake seemed to understand, retreating slightly. Harry exhaled in relief. “That’s dangerous, Malfoy—put it away.”

Malfoy said nothing, only stared at him in confusion, murmuring: “What did you just say?”

“I said put it away—”

“Not that. The previous line.” His expression shifted from confusion to certainty. “What did you say to the snake?”

“I told it to stay away from me.” Harry now realized something was odd.

“You just spoke Parseltongue,” Hermione said. “You made a hissing sound—creepy, but unmistakable.”

“You’re a Parselmouth—you can talk to snakes,” Malfoy frowned. “Perhaps there’s more than one Heir of Slytherin.”

Harry suddenly remembered: during the self-inspection meeting, they’d concluded the Chamber’s monster was a Basilisk, and its opener could speak to snakes.

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked, bewildered.

Harry himself was confused; Malfoy refused to speak to her, leaving Hermione awkwardly silent.

“It means nothing,” Tang Nade patted her head. “Just a talent.”

“Yes, this isn’t important,” Malfoy said, perhaps to avoid panic, forcing a dismissive tone as if he didn’t care about Harry’s Parseltongue.