Sirius's booming declaration of "love at first sight!" still echoed humiliatingly through Cassius's mind into the following day, but fortunately the announcer's voice cut across it before Cassius could commit a homicide against the old dog who still stood by his side grinning like a cheshire cat.
"Top Sixteen—report to your designated rings!"
The crowds surged.
The air sharpened.
This was the last round of the qualifiers, the last of the current bracket before things were shuffled up once more, probably the fastest day of dueling considering there were only eight total rings in use at once, and after that would only be the lot drawing before the new pairings were determined.
Cassius inhaled slowly, forcing the redness from his cheeks and the embarrassment from his mind.
All that remained was the ring ahead of him—Ring 5—lit with a stark white glow.
The board flickered:
ROUND OF 16 — RING 5
Cassius Snape (Great Britain)vs.Alistair Montrose (Scotland)
Cassius blinked.
Sirius groaned.
Flitwick winced.
Montrose wasn't famous—but his family was.
A pureblood line specializing in brute-force mana output and earth-shattering, shield-breaking magic.
Every Montrose heir was trained from childhood to overpower opponents, not out-think them.
And Alistair…was sixteen.
Tall.
Muscular.
Broad-shouldered.
Built like he was about to play as a starting Beater in the World Cup.
But the one key difference was that the Montrose family still practiced the old art of apprenticeship, rather than sending their children off to Hogwarts they instead were paired up with a single mentor, a master if you will one who would teach them everything they knew all while wandering the world completing tasks, and jobs.
He looked down at Cassius with a grin.
"Well then. This'll be quick."
Cassius stepped onto the huge expanded platform.
"We'll see."
~
ROUND ONE
The referee raised her wand.
"Begin!"
Montrose moved first—
Not with finesse.
With a roar.
"CRUSHER HEX!"
A blunt-force curse slammed into Cassius's shield, shaking the entire ring.
Cassius braced, arms trembling from the sheer density of magical pressure.
He countered—
"Divisio—!"
A stone ramp erupted under Montrose—
But the Scotsman shattered it with a single downward strike of raw magic.
Not a spell.
Raw will.
Cassius felt his pulse jolt.
Montrose raised his wand, shouting—
"BREAKERS' CALL!"
A shockwave blasted outward, cracking the very runes etched in the dueling floor.
Cassius went airborne, spine slamming into the upper ward dome before gravity pulled him down hard.
He hit the ground.
Rolled.
Coughed.
Pain sparked through his ribs.
Sirius shouted something.
Flitwick's voice cracked in concern.
Cassius pushed himself to his feet.
Barely.
Montrose leveled his wand—smirking.
"I warned ye."
Cassius's eyes narrowed.
His wand rose.
"Arcanum—Fractus."
A precision shatter spell—thin as a scalpel—lashed forward, aiming for Montrose's wandtip.
Montrose simply absorbed it with a massive shield.
"Try harder, wee lad!"
Then he charged.
Literally charged.
Enhanced by physical augmentation charms hammered onto him before the match, the sixteen-year-old closed the distance like a freight train.
Cassius dove sideways—a fraction too slow.
Montrose clipped him with a blast of concussive force.
Cassius's vision flashed white as he slammed into the floor again, skidding across the rune lines.
The world spun.
The crowd gasped.
Cassius forced air into his lungs, leaning on his wand like a cane.
Blood dripped from his nose.
Montrose raised his wand high.
"END IT IS—"
Cassius lifted his wand, quietly whispering, "Silentio."
Montrose's attack fizzled.
The bigger boy blinked.
Surprised.
Cassius smirked weakly.
"Talk too much... *Cough Cough* you do..."
Montrose snarled and attempted to shout again—only a whisper escaped.
Cassius lifted his wand, readying a counter—
Montrose punched the ground.
A burst of earth magic—raw, uncontrolled—rippled through the stone floor like a shockwave.
Cassius stumbled—Montrose's wand burst into a crimson arc—
"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"
Cassius brought up a shield too slow.
The explosion consumed him.
When the smoke cleared, he was on one knee, shield cracked, chest heaving.
The referee raised her wand.
"Round One—Victor, Alistair Montrose!"
The crowd erupted.
Montrose pumped his fist, roaring triumph.
Cassius wiped blood from his lip.
Finally.
A real challenge.
He cracked his neck, standing straight.
Montrose blinked.
The boy was still grinning.
Flitwick whispered to Sirius, "Oh no… he's enjoying this."
"Course he is, boys more a griffindor than even me, but with the knowledge to back it up and become more dangerous than i ever could be."
~
ROUND TWO
The moment the referee spoke—
"Begin!"
Cassius was already moving.
He vanished behind a veil of flickering distortion.
Montrose swung around. "Coward's tricks!"
But Cassius's voice echoed from three locations at once—
"Triplicare."
Three identical Cassiuses flickered around him.
Montrose roared in frustration, unleashing a massive sweeping blast—
The illusions vanished.
Cassius dropped from above, wand aimed downward—
"Impendium!"
A gravitational surge smashed Montrose onto one knee.
Montrose barely blocked the follow-up—
"Fulmen!"
Lightning blasted his shield, cracking it.
Montrose shoved off the ground, muscles bulging, breaking the gravitational marker through brute force alone.
Cassius stepped back, sweat tracing his temple.
Montrose lunged again—
Cassius swept his wand sideways.
"Vectis."
A lever-force spell ripped Montrose's center of balance sideways and the Scotsman stumbled—not a fall, but enough.
Cassius struck.
"Stupefy!"
Montrose slammed his wand downward—
"RETURN HEX!"
Cassius's stun spell snapped backward at him—
He dove sideways as his own crash of red light narrowly missed his thigh.
The crowd screamed.
This was no simple youth match now.
This was a war.
Cassius grinned sharply.
Time to push.
He planted his foot, wand raised.
"HYPER—ACCELERARE!"
His world blurred.
The ring slowed.
Montrose's eyes widened—
Cassius struck with a flurry of pin-point spells:
"Fractus!"
"Confringo!"
"Tenere!"
"Fulmen!"
Montrose blocked—
One.
Two.
Three.
The fourth cracked through.
A lightning bolt scorched his shoulder, forcing him backward.
Cassius didn't let up.
"Bombarda!"
Montrose threw up a shield—
Too slow.
He was blasted across the ring, slamming into the ward wall.
Cassius staggered slightly—the Hyper-Acceleration draining him heavily—but he lifted his wand once more.
"Stupefy."
Direct hit.
Montrose dropped.
Referee's wand shot up.
"Round Two—Victor, Cassius Snape!"
The audience thundered.
Sirius punched the air so hard he nearly fell off the bench.
Flitwick was sobbing with pride again.
Cassius exhaled, chest burning.
One round apiece.
Everything came down to the third.
~
ROUND THREE
Montrose did not look happy.
His shield arm trembled.
His breathing was ragged.
His shoulder smoked faintly.
But his eyes—
Burned.
He pointed his wand squarely at Cassius.
"You're strong, boy. But I'm a Montrose. We don't lose to children."
Cassius raised his wand.
"My own lineage is no less your own."
The referee's wand fell.
"Begin."
Montrose charged immediately with a seismic blast.
"EARTHREND!"
Cassius countered—
"DIVISIO!"
Cracks tore the platform apart—shockwaves collided—the entire arena floor shuddered.
Both duelists were thrown backward—
Cassius hit first, rolling, wand still in hand.
Montrose pivoted midair—he actually controlled the landing using raw magic force.
He pointed his wand—face twisted in fury—
"BOMBARDA—"
Cassius thrust his wand down.
"GLADIUS."
A slicing shockwave of compressed air shot outward—
Montrose aborted his spell to shield—
"Prote—!"
Too slow.
Cassius's spell slashed across Montrose's wand arm—
Not enough to maim—just enough to break stance.
Montrose roared in pain—
Cassius lunged forward.
"Stupefy—!"
Montrose swung his wand like a club.
"BACKLASH!"
Two spells collided—but the Backlash charm caused both attacks to rebound in random directions, detonating in midair with a firework-like crack.
The shockwave threw both boys off their feet.
Cassius's ears rang.
His vision blurred.
When he forced himself upright—
Montrose was already charging again.
Cassius whispered—
"Festinatio."
His body reacted faster, barely avoiding a crushing downward strike.
Montrose roared—fist glowing with raw magic—and threw a magically reinforced punch.
Cassius ducked so fast his hair brushed the Scotsman's knuckles.
He jabbed his wand into Montrose's ribs.
"IMPULSO!"
A point-blank blast hurled Montrose backward.
Cassius followed—closing the distance before Montrose could recover.
The older boy tried to stand—
Cassius flicked his wand upward—
"RETRO!"
A repulsion surge pinned Montrose to the ward wall—
Cassius raised his wand one last time.
Their eyes met.
Respect.
Acknowledgment.
Determination.
"Stupefy."
The spell hit true.
Montrose slumped.
Silence.
Then the referee lifted her wand:
"Round Three—Victor, Cassius Snape! Winner of the match: CASSIUS SNAPE!"
The arena exploded in cheers—the loudest of the tournament so far.
Even Fleur paused mid-conversation, her silver eyes drifting to the boy who had just beaten a sixteen-year-old powerhouse through grit, creativity, and sheer stubborn magic.
While her own match had ended in a forfit before it even began the boy matched against he not wanting to have to face off with her, lest he possibly do her harm by accident.
Sirius whooped loud enough to wake the dead.
Flitwick levitated in joy.
Cassius stood in the center of the ring—sweat dripping, nose bleeding, limbs trembling—
Smiling.
He had lost his first round.
He had bled for the win.
He had earned it.
On the board above, the bracket updated.
Now only eight competitors remained, but their placement into matches would need to wait, the tournament was entering the final phase, only eight total matches remained until the very end.