A week later, a piece of thrilling news appeared on the notice boards of all four houses: Hogwarts was starting a Dueling Club.
The rumors flying around the castle lately seemed to have made Dumbledore think that students should learn how to defend themselves properly — with real, practical combat training.
Malfoy had been waiting for this opportunity for ages. And, of course, he already had plans for how to make the most of it.
That evening, at eight o'clock sharp, almost every student in the castle poured into the Great Hall. Wands in hand, faces shining with excitement, they crowded together shoulder to shoulder.
The long dining tables had vanished, replaced by a gilded stage stretching along one wall. Hundreds of floating candles illuminated it, their flickering light glinting off the polished floor. The enchanted ceiling had turned into a deep, velvety black, mirroring the night sky outside.
Students buzzed with speculation. Hermione was confidently guessing that the club would be led by Professor Flitwick, who had once been a dueling champion. It made sense — he was tiny but powerful.
But when Harry and Ron saw Lockhart, beaming and radiant in his ridiculous purple-red robes, strutting onto the stage like it was a fashion show, both of them groaned out loud.
And right behind him came Snape.
Hermione leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "The last times were just accidents," she whispered confidently. "You'll see — today he'll show his true ability."
Ron snorted. "His 'true ability'? He vanished Harry's bones, remember? I just wish one of his 'accidents' would happen to Snape. Maybe lose him a few bones — might improve his personality."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop arguing. Let's just watch."
That shut them both up.
Lockhart raised his arm dramatically to get everyone's attention and called out, "Gather around, gather around! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Splendid!"
He flashed a dazzling smile. "Professor Dumbledore has kindly permitted me to start this little Dueling Club — so that you can all learn how to defend yourselves properly! You never know when you might need these skills, as I've learned countless times in my own adventures — all of which are, of course, fully detailed in my published works."
Ron made a gagging sound under his breath.
Lockhart gestured grandly to the man beside him. "Let me introduce my assistant — Professor Snape! He's assured me that he, too, knows a little about dueling, and he has very generously agreed to help me demonstrate before we begin. I told him not to worry — after our little display, I'll return your Potions Master safe and sound!"
Snape's expression could have curdled milk.
They both turned to face each other and bowed — or rather, Lockhart performed an elaborate, sweeping bow full of flourishes, while Snape merely inclined his head, radiating barely restrained irritation.
Then, in unison, they raised their wands in front of their chests like drawn swords.
"As you can see," Lockhart said to the crowd, "we begin in the standard dueling stance. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Of course, neither of us intends to cause any lasting harm."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry muttered, eyeing Snape's sharp grin.
Lockhart took a deep breath and counted, "One — two — three—!"
Both raised their wands. Snape's voice rang out first:
"Expelliarmus!"
A jet of red light burst from his wand.
Malfoy winced and turned away — he'd seen this disaster before. Any second now, Lockhart would be blasted off the stage, crash into the wall, and then drag himself up, smiling awkwardly, pretending nothing had happened. His ability to keep saving face after so many humiliations was, frankly, impressive.
But this time—
"Protego!"
Malfoy's head snapped back around.
The red light ricocheted off an invisible barrier and shot upward, sizzling past the ceiling's enchanted stars.
"What?" Malfoy whispered.
Lockhart twirled his wand theatrically. "Expelliarmus!"
The counterspell hit Snape squarely before he could react. Though Snape shouted "Protego!" a moment too late, Lockhart's disarming spell was shockingly strong. It deflected Snape's shield and sent him staggering backward — actually falling to the floor.
A stunned silence fell.
Malfoy stared, mouth half open. "What in Merlin's name—?"
Was this some kind of trick? Had Snape been bribed? Maybe Lockhart had somehow blackmailed him — given him a few photos of Lily or something — just to make himself look good.
Because there was simply no way a glorified fraud like Lockhart had just defeated the Half-Blood Prince.
The Half-Blood Prince — the man who invented Sectumsempra and the Bat-Bogey Hex — taken down by a walking hair product advertisement?
Impossible.
Yet there Snape was, flat on the floor.
Then, as if the castle itself took a deep breath, the hall erupted.
Every house except Slytherin burst into cheers. Students screamed and clapped and whistled. For once, Snape had been completely and utterly beaten — no excuses, no counterarguments, no sarcastic comebacks.
He was simply outmatched.
"Okay, everyone saw it!" Lockhart said cheerfully, pretending not to notice the stunned expression on Snape's face. He stepped forward, extending his hand to help his fallen colleague up. "All part of the demonstration, of course."
Snape ignored the offered hand, stood up stiffly, and brushed off his robes, looking as if he were physically restraining himself from strangling Lockhart right there.
Lockhart didn't seem to notice, or perhaps he was too absorbed in basking in the applause. The other teachers weren't present, and for once, no one seemed inclined to question what they'd just seen.
To everyone's utter disbelief, Gilderoy Lockhart — the man famous for making mistakes and losing bones — had won.
Even the Gryffindors looked starstruck.
"Oh. My. God." Ron's jaw hung open. "Did that actually happen?"
Harry stared, still stunned. "I… I think it did. Maybe he was just unlucky before."
Hermione beamed, as smug as ever. "See? I told you he was more competent than you thought!"
Malfoy groaned quietly, burying his face in his hands.
Snape's defeat wasn't just embarrassing — it was a catastrophe for Slytherin pride. Their Head of House had been publicly humiliated by the most flamboyant fraud in Hogwarts history.
"Just now," Lockhart said, addressing the crowd again, "Professor Snape and I exchanged the Disarming Charm — 'Expelliarmus!' as you've all seen. Now, what's important to remember is that even the same spell can vary greatly depending on the skill and finesse of the caster."
He smiled dazzlingly, turning toward Snape. "Don't take it personally, Severus. It's all for the students' benefit."
Snape's face was pale — paler than usual — and his lips were pressed into a thin line that could have cut glass.
If looks could kill, Lockhart would have been vaporized on the spot.
The cheering continued. The Gryffindors were practically euphoric. Many of them wished they'd brought cameras — this was the sort of moment they'd want to frame forever.
"Harry," Ron said, elbowing him, "it's such a shame Neville missed this. He'd never be scared of Snape again after seeing this."
"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head, still half in disbelief. "Really a shame."
Across the hall, the Slytherins sat in tense silence. Malfoy's expression was unreadable. He was still trying to process what he'd witnessed — and failing.
Lockhart, meanwhile, was soaking up the attention, flashing his teeth like a celebrity at a red-carpet event. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were looking at him with admiration now, whispering about how powerful he must be.
Girls were gazing at him with literal stars in their eyes.
Even some of the boys looked impressed.
Harry wasn't sure what to think anymore. The same man who had once removed his bones now looked like the most capable wizard in the castle.
Had they all been wrong about him?
Lockhart clapped his hands together, his rings flashing under the candlelight. "Now then! You've all seen how a simple defensive charm can change the outcome of a duel. Confidence, control, and timing are everything!"
He glanced once more at Snape — whose expression suggested he was imagining forty-seven different ways to hex Lockhart — and then turned back to the students with another blinding smile.
"Next, we'll pair you all up so you can practice some basic spells. Don't worry — I'll be walking around to supervise personally!"
A ripple of excited chatter filled the hall.
But Malfoy was still thinking. Something wasn't right about this. The Lockhart he knew — the bumbling, self-obsessed peacock — shouldn't have been capable of overpowering Snape.
Unless… he'd been pretending all along.
A dangerous thought began to form in his mind. What if Lockhart wasn't a fool? What if he'd just been hiding his strength behind that ridiculous smile, biding his time?
Malfoy frowned.
If that was true, then Lockhart was far more dangerous than anyone realized.
And for the first time since coming to Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy wasn't sure whose side he wanted to be on.
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