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27th of October 1994, Hogwarts Grounds

"Expulso!"

The force of the spell left Adrian's wand like a cannon blast, slamming into the thick oak tree ahead. The bark cracked and splintered on impact, sending small shards flying as the ground trembled slightly beneath his feet. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling with each deep inhale, sweat glistening against his bare skin in the late afternoon light.

His manbun had long since come undone, allowing his jet-black hair to flow freely, strands sticking to his forehead and neck. The cool autumn breeze did little to soothe the heat burning under his skin as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

Another deep breath.

Another spell.

"Confringo!"

A bright orange explosion erupted upon impact, the fire flickering wildly for a moment before dying down.

He was getting better.

About two months ago, he would have been struggling to keep his stance steady after consecutive high-powered spells like that. His form had been sloppier, his endurance lacking. Back at Durmstrang, his dueling technique had been sharp, but he had relied too much on raw skill rather than conditioning. Since arriving at Hogwarts, that had changed.

Every day, after classes and before curfew, he had come out here. Practicing. Refining. Improving.

Not just his spells, but himself.

At first, it had been about sharpening his dueling—about making sure he wasn't growing complacent. But he had quickly realized that magic wasn't the only thing that needed work. His stamina had been lacking. His endurance faltering after long sequences of spell-casting. That wouldn't do.

So he had adapted.

Strength, agility, conditioning—it all played a part. Every morning, before breakfast, he pushed his body through routines of push-ups, squats, and core exercises. The castle had plenty of staircases, so he ran them, building endurance with every step. Students and even some of the Professors were giving him weird looks but that didn't matter to him. He didn't mind the looks. Rather... he was used to them. In the evenings, after practice, he would cool down with stretches and focused breathing, ensuring his body could keep up with his magic.

And it was working.

His muscles were more defined now, his physique lean but solid. His strikes were sharper, his reactions faster. He could duel longer, cast stronger, and push himself further without that familiar burn of exhaustion creeping in too soon.

Adrian rolled his shoulders, feeling the soreness settle into his arms and chest—not painful, just that satisfying ache of effort well spent.

Again.

Raising his wand, he focused on the battered tree in front of him. Its bark was marred with scorch marks and cracks from his repeated onslaught, but it stood firm, an unyielding opponent in his relentless pursuit of improvement.

"Reducto!"

A sharp blue-white light burst from his wand, slamming into the tree. The bark shattered inwards, a fist-sized chunk flying off as a dull boom echoed through the clearing. Adrian took another breath, steadying his stance as he prepared the next attack.

Soon, very soon, students from both BeauxBatons and Durmstrang would be arriving on Hogwarts grounds and the Triwizard tournament would begin. He could hope that none of his old "friends" would come, but that was wishfull thinking. Dimitri especially, would never let a chance like this escape, the bastard. And he wanted to be ready for any sort of bullshit tricks he would have up his sleeve that could hurt him.

He didn't know if his old friends knew he had transferred to Hogwarts but he wasn't about to risk looking like some soft, out-of-practice idiot if they did. Durmstrang bred a certain kind of wizard—tough, competitive, ruthless in their own way. There had always been a pecking order, a hierarchy based not just on skill but on how well you could hold your ground.

And Adrian had held his own.

Until he didn't.

He exhaled sharply, shaking the thought away before it could settle in. No point dwelling on the past. He wasn't that kid anymore, the one who had been forced to leave with barely a parting glance from the people he'd once called "friends".

If Dimitri or any of the others showed up, he wanted them to take one look at him and realize—he hadn't fallen. He had risen.

His grip on his wand tightened.

"Depulso!"

A wave of force blasted from his wand, smashing into the already battered tree. Leaves and bits of bark flew off in every direction, a few stray pieces grazing his bare shoulders. He barely flinched.

Again.

"Incen-"

"I think that poor tree has had enough don't you think Mr. Valor?"

Adrian whipped around to see none other than his Charms Professor Flitwick.

He let out a slow breath, lowering his wand but not relaxing entirely. Professor Flitwick stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching him with an amused yet appraising look. The tiny professor was bundled in his usual deep blue robes, but despite his size, there was an undeniable presence about him.

Adrian let out a slow breath, lowering his wand but not relaxing entirely. Professor Flitwick stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching him with an amused yet appraising look. The professor was bundled in his usual deep blue robes, but despite his size, there was an undeniable presence about him.

"You've got quite the knack for power, Mr. Valor," Flitwick remarked, stepping closer. His sharp eyes flicked to the tree, now marred with scorch marks, deep cracks, and missing chunks of bark. "But I must say, it's rare to see a student practicing with such… intensity outside of formal training. What exactly are you working toward?"

Adrian exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He wasn't embarrassed—far from it—but it wasn't every day a professor caught him blasting spells like a lunatic. He could brush it off, make up some excuse, but that wasn't really his style.

"I'm training," he said simply, tossing his wand from one hand to the other. "Building stamina, refining my casting. I want to get better. A lot better."

Flitwick studied him for a moment, nodding slowly. "A noble pursuit. And an ambitious one." His expression turned mildly curious. "Are you planning on becoming an Auror?"

Adrian shook his head. "No, nothing like that." He glanced at the tree, jaw tightening slightly. "I want to be a duelist."

Flitwick's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. "Ah," he said, a glimmer of understanding flashing in his eyes. "That explains quite a bit."

Adrian let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Yeah, my father was a great duelist back in his day. Competed on the circuit. I guess I've always wanted to follow that path—become someone people actually remember, you know?"

Flitwick tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, quite suddenly, he smiled.

"You may not know this, Mr. Valor," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, "but I too was once a duelist."

Adrian blinked. "Really?"

Flitwick chuckled, clearly entertained by his reaction. "Oh yes, long before my teaching days, I competed in the professional dueling circuit. Won a fair few tournaments as well, though it has been quite some time since then." His gaze flicked to Adrian's stance, then to the battered tree. "I can see you have the passion for it, but competitive dueling is far more than just throwing powerful spells at a stationary target."

Adrian let out a breath, grinning slightly. "Yeah, I figured that much. But I have to start somewhere."

Flitwick nodded approvingly. "Indeed. But talent alone won't get you where you want to go. Have you ever considered entering the Junior Duelling Circuit?"

Adrian scoffed lightly. "Yeah, of course. But you can't just sign up for that. You need an invitation." He shrugged. "Not exactly easy to come by."

Flitwick's smile widened slightly.

Adrian frowned. "Wait—no way."

Flitwick merely clasped his hands together, his eyes twinkling with quiet amusement.

"Come see me in my classroom tomorrow after class, Mr. Valor," Flitwick said lightly. "We'll have a talk—see if you'd like to participate in the Junior Duelling Circuit this Christmas break."

For the first time in a long while, Adrian was completely speechless.

28th Of October 1994, Charms Classroom

"And make sure that you bring an entire parchment worth of summary about impediment jinxes next lesson. That'll be all for today, class dismissed."

Students groaned as Professor Flitwick gave them another batch of homework.

As soon as Flitwick dismissed them, the usual shuffle of chairs and chatter filled the room. Students packed up their things, some groaning about the assigned homework, while others were already caught up in excited discussions.

It wasn't just any day at Hogwarts—there were only two more days until the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, and that was all anyone could talk about.

Terry stretched, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "So, any guesses on what they'll be like?"

Padma hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I know Beauxbatons is supposed to be very elegant, and Durmstrang is rumored to be really intense."

Jessica grinned. "I hope there are some hotties."

Padma rolled her eyes. "Jess."

"What?" Jessica defended herself with a smirk. "It's only fair to wonder. Who knows? Maybe we'll be blessed with the presence of some dashing foreign students."

Adrian threw an arm around her shoulder, smirking. "I'm right here, you know."

Jessica snorted, shoving him off. "You wish, Valor."

Padma shook her head. "Adrian you're impossible."

Adrian just grinned. "Yeah, yeah."

"You excited about seeing your old friends?" Terry smirked.

"Fuck off Boot." Adrian replied.

Terry laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Just saying, mate. You've got to admit, it's a little funny."

Adrian rolled his eyes but let the smirk tug at his lips. "Hilarious."

Jessica tapped a finger against her chin. "I bet some of them will be in the tournament."

Adrian shrugged. "Probably. Durmstrang takes this kind of thing seriously."

Padma adjusted her bag. "Well, we'll see soon enough. Two more days."

Jessica grinned. "Still hoping for some eye candy."

Adrian smirked. "Again, I'm right here."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "And so what if you're here? You gonna take me out next Hogsmeade weekend then?"

Adrian, for once, didn't have a comeback ready.

His smirk faltered just a little, and he blinked, caught completely off guard.

"Uh—well, I mean—"

Jessica tilted her head, all too pleased with herself. "Mmm, that's what I thought. All talk, Valor."

Padma let out a soft snicker, and Terry laughed outright.

Adrian narrowed his eyes slightly. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

Jessica just winked at him before swinging her bag over her shoulder. "Later, lover boy."

Adrian watched as they all walked off, shaking his head. Damn...gotta get her back for that.

With that, his friends headed off, leaving Adrian behind as he turned back to Flitwick, who was now clearing up his desk.

Flitwick glanced up, smiling. "Ah, Mr. Valor. Ready for our little chat?"

Adrian nodded. "Yeah."

Flitwick motioned for him to follow. "Come along, then."

Adrian followed Flitwick deeper into the classroom as the professor pulled out a thin stack of parchment from his desk and set it down neatly.

"Now," Flitwick began, adjusting his spectacles, "the Junior Duelling Circuit isn't just one tournament—it's an entire seasonal league. It was established to prepare under-seventeen duelists for the professional circuit while ensuring proper oversight and safety measures."

Adrian pulled up a chair, leaning in. "So, it's not just one duel to prove yourself?"

Flitwick shook his head. "Not at all. The Winter Invitational is the biggest event for students who wish to join the league, but from there, duelists are divided into skill brackets. Aspiring Class is for first-time competitors, followed by Rising Class, and finally, the Elite Juniors, who often go on to the European Grand Championship."

"How do you move up?" Adrian asked.

Flitwick smiled. "Winning, of course! Duelists are paired based on recorded wins and performance rankings. The more victories you earn, the more your rating increases. A strong duelist can move up a class in as little as a year. Others take longer."

Adrian nodded. "And the Winter Invitational decides who enters?"

"Exactly," Flitwick said, tapping the parchment. "And only those who receive an invitation may participate. Sponsorships help, of course, but you also need a recommendation—preferably from someone with duelling prestige."

Adrian's brows furrowed slightly. "And you're saying you could get me in?"

Flitwick chuckled. "Not only can I recommend you, Mr. Valor, I can also train you."

Adrian's head snapped up. "Wait. Seriously?"

Flitwick's smile grew. "Did you think I was offering out of mere politeness? No, no, Mr. Valor, I see potential in you. Raw, untamed potential—but potential nonetheless. However..." He raised a finger. "Potential means little without proof."

Adrian smirked. "You want to test me, don't you?"

Flitwick's eyes twinkled as he hopped down from his chair. "Now you're catching on."

Flitwick led Adrian to an open space at the back of the classroom, flicking his wand to push the desks and chairs aside effortlessly. The moment Adrian stepped into position, he felt the air shift—like the energy of the room itself had changed.

Flitwick, for all his small stature, radiated a duelist's presence—calm, confident, unreadable.

"Standard dueling rules," Flitwick said lightly, raising his wand. "And we stop if one of us yields."

Adrian nodded sharply, rolling his shoulders. His grip on his wand tightened as he locked eyes with Flitwick, feeling the pressure of the moment settle in. The tiny professor bowed, and Adrian mirrored the movement, his mind already calculating his first move.

The moment they straightened, Flitwick vanished.

Apparation? No—too fast. Too clean. Not to mention impossible in Hogwarts.

Before Adrian could even blink, a stunner whizzed past his ear. He barely twisted out of the way.

"Expelliarmus!" Adrian retaliated.

Flitwick dodged without even moving his feet, his wand flicking with effortless precision.

"Caligo!"

Adrian barely had time to process before a sudden cloud of inky black smoke exploded around him. His vision blurred.

Shit—he's playing dirty.

Adrian took two steps back, breathing shallowly. He needed leverage—something unexpected.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he whispered, "Ventus Maxima!"

A roaring gust shot upward, dispersing the smokescreen in a violent swirl. Adrian's eyes locked onto Flitwick—directly in front of him.

Too close.

"Confringo!"

The explosive spell ripped forward, the heat licking at Adrian's skin. Flitwick's Protego shield flared, but the force of the blast sent him skidding back a step.

A step.

That was progress.

Adrian's heart pounded. Don't let up. Keep pushing.

"Oppugno!"

The scattered classroom chairs sprang to life, hurling themselves at Flitwick from all sides.

The professor twirled mid-air, gracefully evading the assault before flicking his wand.

"Glacius Maxima."

A wave of freezing air spread outward in a flash, encasing the chairs in thick ice before they shattered into the floor like glass.

Damn. Adrian barely had time to breathe before—

"Fulgari!"

Thick ropes of magical lightning shot from Flitwick's wand, whipping toward Adrian like crackling whips. He lunged sideways, but one of them snagged his wrist, burning hot against his skin.

Shit—think. Fast.

Adrian switched tactics.

"Aqua Eructo!"

A powerful stream of water shot from his wand, conducting the magical lightning away from his arm, sending it harmlessly into the floor.

He used the split-second window.

"Densaugeo!"

Flitwick dodged, but the hex still clipped his sleeve, and for the first time in the duel, he actually stumbled.

Adrian's heart surged. He had landed a spell on Flitwick.

He took full advantage.

"Bombarda Maxima!"

The ground erupted, the force shaking the entire room. Flitwick's shield flickered as the shockwave tore apart the dueling floor.

Adrian grinned. He had him.

And then—

Flitwick vanished again.

The second Adrian turned to find him, a blue flash filled his vision.

"Oscillo!"

A sudden, invisible force gripped him—and slammed him into the ceiling.

Before he even had time to process it—

"Depulso!"

An impossible wave of kinetic energy ripped him downward again, slamming him into the ground with such force it rattled his bones.

He barely had time to register the pain before—

"Stupefy."

A bright red flash struck his chest point-blank.

And everything went still.

Adrian groaned as his vision slowly realigned. His chest still tingled from the impact of the Stupefy, and his muscles protested as he forced himself to sit up. His heart was still hammering in his chest, not from fear, but from the sheer adrenaline rush of the duel.

Across the room, Professor Flitwick stood with his wand held high, his expression calm and composed as always.

"Reparo."

The classroom seemed to mend itself in a series of synchronized movements. The shattered ice, the splintered chairs, and the ruptured dueling floor knit back together as if time were reversing. Dust settled. Broken objects reassembled with sharp clinks.

Adrian rubbed his forehead, still trying to catch his breath.

Flitwick turned back to him with a smile, adjusting his robes as if he hadn't just flung Adrian around like a ragdoll.

"You did remarkably well, Mr. Valor," he said, his voice filled with genuine praise.

Adrian let out a breathless chuckle, finally getting to his feet. "Yeah? Tell that to my spine."

Flitwick chuckled. "Come now, surely you expected no less from me? I would have been insulted if you weren't giving it your all."

Adrian rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly. "I did, trust me. I wasn't expecting—" he waved a hand vaguely in the air, "whatever the hell that Oscillo spell was. And how in the hell were you able to disappear like that? What spell was it?"

"Trade secret. And come now Mr. Valor... imagine if I was using non-verbal... tut tut tut... would have been that much harder for you no?"

Adrian huffed out a laugh, still catching his breath. "Yeah, yeah. Rub it in, why don't you?" He rolled his shoulders, feeling the dull ache settle into his bones. "Non-verbal? I'd have been flattened in half the time."

Flitwick's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Perhaps," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Or perhaps it would have forced you to rely on something other than power. A good duellist knows how to react, but a great duellist knows how to anticipate. You fought well, but tell me—at any point, did you truly dictate the flow of the battle?"

Adrian opened his mouth to answer—then stopped. He had taken the offensive, had pushed Flitwick back a step… but every time he thought he had control, the professor had flipped the duel on its head.

Flitwick nodded knowingly at his silence. "That, Mr. Valor, is what separates the good from the truly exceptional."

Adrian exhaled. "So what? I just need to predict my opponent's moves better?"

Flitwick smiled. "Not just predict—manipulate. A duel isn't just about reacting faster or hitting harder. It's about controlling the battlefield. Making your opponent think they're in control, right up until the moment they aren't."

Adrian absorbed the words, his mind already running through the fight again. He had speed, power, even ingenuity—but Flitwick had dictated the rhythm. His attacks had forced Adrian into constant reaction. Even when Adrian had landed a hit, Flitwick had already moved to counter before Adrian could capitalize.

It made sense. And it pissed him off.

"I get it," Adrian muttered. "I'm good at hitting hard—but I'm fighting like a brawler, not a duelist."

Flitwick's grin widened. "Precisely! And that is why I offered to train you. Power and endurance will carry you far, but if you truly wish to stand among the best, you must learn finesse. Control. Subtlety."

Adrian scoffed. "You're saying I need to be sneakier."

Flitwick's smile turned sharp. "I am a former dueling champion, Mr. Valor. Do you truly believe I won by standing in one place and trading spells like a common street brawler?"

Adrian crossed his arms, still smirking. "I mean, it'd be a hell of a statement if you did."

Flitwick chuckled. "Indeed. But I assure you, I did not. I won by making my opponents believe they were winning."

That made Adrian pause.

Making them believe they were winning?

He thought back to the duel. Every time he'd gotten the upper hand—when he'd landed Densaugeo, when he forced Flitwick back with Bombarda Maxima—he had let his guard down for a second. That moment of confidence, of satisfaction, had been enough for Flitwick to turn the tide immediately.

Adrian exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright," he admitted. "I see the problem."

Flitwick nodded approvingly. "Good. That is the first step toward mastery—understanding your weaknesses. Now comes the hard part: fixing them."

Adrian straightened. "And you're gonna help me do that?"

Flitwick's smile was as sharp as a blade. "Oh, my dear boy. I fully intend to."

Then, before Adrian could respond, Flitwick's expression turned mischievous. "Of course, I am making a small investment in your success, Mr. Valor."

Adrian's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Flitwick dusted off his robes with an almost casual air. "Well, sponsorship in the dueling world comes with… incentives. Should you rise through the ranks, gain prestige, and, of course, win, I shall receive a small cut of your earnings as your mentor and sponsor."

Adrian blinked. "Wait—what?"

Flitwick chuckled at his expression. "Oh, don't look so scandalized, Mr. Valor. It's standard practice. Sponsoring a duelist is a business, after all. And, as you are about to learn, I am an excellent investor."

Adrian narrowed his eyes. "How much of a cut are we talking about?"

Flitwick waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing too scandalous. Ten percent of winnings, which is frankly generous compared to some sponsorship contracts."

Adrian exhaled, shaking his head. "So you're training me, but also making sure there's a profit involved?"

Flitwick's grin widened. "Motivation is a powerful tool, Mr. Valor."

Adrian barked out a laugh. "You're a hustler, Professor."

Flitwick bowed dramatically. "And you are a smart lad to recognize it. Now, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Adrian hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Alright. Deal."

Flitwick extended a small hand, and Adrian clasped it, shaking once.

"Excellent," Flitwick said. "Now, Mr. Valor, we begin your real training."

For the next hour, Flitwick drilled him on redirection, baiting, and reading movement patterns. They didn't duel again—Flitwick made Adrian focus on small, controlled engagements.

He would fire simple jinxes at Adrian, and instead of dodging outright, Adrian was instructed to manipulate the battlefield—to use the environment to dictate where the duel flowed.

"It is not enough to avoid the spell," Flitwick lectured as Adrian sidestepped a Jelly-Legs Jinx. "You must use every motion to your advantage. Every move should set up the next."

"Like chess?" Adrian grunted as he deflected a well-aimed Rictusempra.

Flitwick's eyes twinkled. "Ah, but in dueling, we are playing with three-dimensional pieces, moving at full speed, and trying to hex each other into unconsciousness. It is quite more entertaining than chess, don't you think?"

Adrian let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah, I'll give you that one."

By the time they were finished, Adrian's reflexes were sharper, and his mind was already adjusting the way he approached combat. It wasn't perfect—but for the first time, he could see how to get there.

Flitwick checked the time, tucking his wand away. "That is all for today, I think."

Adrian exhaled, rolling out his shoulders. He was tired—but in a good way.

"Same time next week?" he asked, stretching his sore muscles.

Flitwick nodded. "Indeed. And, Mr. Valor?"

Adrian turned back.

"You have potential. Do not waste it."

Adrian smirked. "I don't plan to."

29th of October 1994, Defence Against The Dark Arts Classroom

Adrian trudged into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom alongside Terry, Padma, and Jessica, still feeling the dull ache of boredom lingering from their earlier History of Magic lesson.

"That was, without a doubt, the longest hour of my life," Terry groaned, dropping into his seat.

"You're telling me," Adrian muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I swear, Binns has a gift. He could make goblin rebellions sound as thrilling as watching paint dry."

Padma rolled her eyes as she neatly arranged her parchment. "It's not that bad. You just have to focus."

"Padma, I respect you, I really do," Adrian said, turning toward her. "But if you tell me you actually enjoyed hearing about the 1612 goblin insurrection for the third time this year, I might start questioning your sanity."

Jessica let out a dramatic sigh. "Honestly, I was considering throwing myself out the window just to feel something."

"Bit extreme," Terry mused.

"Necessary, given the circumstances."

Adrian smirked. "You should've just hexed yourself unconscious. I would've covered for you."

Jessica gave him a flat look. "Knowing you, you'd probably tell Binns I died of boredom just to see how he'd react."

"He wouldn't," Terry added with a smirk. "He'd just drone on about how many students perished in goblin-related skirmishes over the years."

Jessica shuddered. "Merlin, you're right. And then we'd be stuck in a worse lecture."

"Exactly," Padma said, shaking her head. "So, maybe try paying attention instead of daydreaming about hexing yourself."

Adrian grinned. "Or we could just get Moody to spice up the curriculum by setting Binns on fire."

Terry snorted. "That might actually work. If Binns wasn't a ghost and could actually get hurt."

"Would be worth the detention," Jessica mused.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as the door creaked open, and Professor Moody entered, his wooden leg thudding against the floor with each uneven step. His magical eye swivelled, locking onto each of them in turn before settling on Adrian for just a beat longer than was comfortable.

"Alright, listen up," Moody growled, waving his wand. Instantly, the desks scraped backward, clearing an open space in the middle of the room. "Time for something practical today. You're going to learn what it feels like to be under the Imperius Curse."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Adrian blinked. "Wait, what?"

"But—that's illegal, Professor!" Padma spluttered, looking scandalized.

Moody's scarred face twisted into something like a grin. "That's right, Miss Patil. Illegal. Unforgivable. The sort of thing that lands you a one-way ticket to Azkaban if you use it on another witch or wizard. But out there"—he jabbed a gnarled finger toward the window—"the people who'll try to use it on you won't give a damn about the law."

A few students shifted uncomfortably.

"Dumbledore wants you lot prepared," Moody continued, his magical eye sweeping across the room. "So, I'm going to put each of you under the Imperius Curse, one by one, so you know what it feels like—and so we can see if any of you can fight it off."

Adrian's brows shot up. Well, this just got interesting.

Around him, the other Ravenclaws exchanged uneasy glances. Some looked pale, others sceptical. Padma still looked scandalized, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk as though she were about to object again. Terry, on the other hand, just muttered, "Bloody hell," under his breath.

Nobody moved.

Moody scanned the class, his electric-blue eye whirring as it focused on each of them in turn. Then he let out a low grunt. "Come on, I don't have all day. Who's first?"

Silence.

Then, to Adrian's surprise, Michael Corner stepped forward, looking almost curious. Moody's scarred mouth curled into something that might have been approval.

"Alright, Corner. Stand in the middle."

Michael took a breath, rolling back his shoulders before stepping forward. Moody raised his wand, his grizzled fingers gripping it tight.

"Imperio."

It was subtle. One moment, Michael's face was set with careful concentration, and the next, his expression slackened. The usual sharpness in his eyes dulled as his entire posture became eerily relaxed, as though he had just taken a deep breath and exhaled every single worry from his body.

"Do a handstand."

Without hesitation, Michael flipped onto his hands, balancing effortlessly on his palms, his legs pointed straight up. The class murmured in surprise.

Moody let it go on for a few seconds, then flicked his wand again. Michael wobbled, blinking rapidly before flopping back onto his feet.

"That's how it works," Moody said gruffly. "Total control. If I wanted him to hop around like a frog for the next hour, he'd do it without question."

Michael ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly dazed. "That was… weird."

Moody let out a dry chuckle. "Feels good, doesn't it? No fear, no hesitation. But it means someone else is pulling your strings. The trick is knowing when it's happening—and fighting back."

A few students swallowed nervously.

Moody turned again. "Next."

Su Li stepped up, and then Anthony Goldstein. One by one, Moody put them under the curse, and one by one, they obeyed his every command.

Adrian watched each of them closely. None of them resisted. Not even a little. That unsettling blank look, the effortless compliance—it sent an odd prickle down his spine.

Jessica was the next to step forward, jaw set as she squared her stance. Moody cast the curse, and Adrian saw her expression go loose in an instant, her eyes becoming distant.

"Spin in a circle," Moody ordered.

Jessica twirled, looking almost graceful as she turned on the spot.

"Stop," Moody said, and her movements ceased immediately.

He lifted the curse, and Jessica shook her head slightly, her brow furrowing. "That's not right," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Moody gave a firm nod. "Now you know what it feels like. That's the first step."

Adrian inhaled slowly, shifting his weight. His fingers twitched. He had to fight it, no matter what.

And then—

"Valor."

Moody's voice was a low growl.

Adrian's stomach tensed.

He knew this was coming. Something unpleasant curled in his chest.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Moody studied him for a moment, then raised his wand.

"Imperio."

The world shifted.

Every thought, every feeling, gone.

There was no weight in his limbs, no tension in his mind. He felt free, floating, untethered to anything. Like he could stand there forever, perfectly at peace.

Jump onto the desk.

A distant thought, but a reasonable one.

Yes. He could do that.

His knees bent slightly.

Jump onto the desk.

His muscles tensed, preparing to obey.

But then—

Wait.

A flicker of something in his mind.

Why?

That was… stupid, wasn't it? Jumping on a desk in the middle of class? That wasn't normal. That wasn't his thought.

Jump onto the desk.

Another push. Stronger this time.

No.

His body twitched, caught between the command and his own will. He gritted his teeth, the edges of reality sharpening around him.

And then—

The floating sensation shattered.

He gasped, his heart pounding in his chest as he stumbled slightly, the remnants of the curse clinging to him like mist before fully dissipating.

Moody watched him carefully, his good eye narrowed while the magical one spun wildly.

"Well, well."

Adrian rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to stand straight, to act like his mind wasn't still catching up.

His fingers curled into fists for just a second before he flexed them out. Two out of three now, he thought dryly. Just need the Killing Curse to complete the set.

Moody's lips curled into something resembling excitement. His scarred face twisted into an almost manic grin as he thumped his wooden leg against the floor.

"Well, now," he growled, pacing around Adrian like a wolf circling prey. "That's something you don't see every day."

Adrian forced himself to stand still, shaking off the lingering sensation of weightlessness. His mind was his own again. He had fought it off. But it hadn't been easy.

The class murmured around him. Terry looked gobsmacked. Jessica was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Even Padma, ever the composed one, looked slightly impressed.

Moody turned back to Adrian, eyes glinting. "Think you can do it again, Valor?"

Adrian met his gaze.

"Try me."

The class collectively inhaled.

Moody's grin widened. "Good lad." His wand snapped up faster than Adrian could blink.

"Imperio."

The world shifted again.

But this time, Adrian was ready.

That same unnatural calm rushed through him, but it wasn't as overwhelming. He recognized it now—the way it crept into his thoughts, how it tried to make him forget that something was wrong.

His limbs felt weightless. His mind loose. The command came quickly.

Spin around in a circle.

His foot lifted slightly—

No.

It was more of a reflex now, like catching himself before falling. His muscles stiffened as he fought against the suggestion, his mind pushing back against the unnatural urge to obey.

The pressure increased. Moody was forcing it.

Spin.

Adrian grit his teeth.

No.

He felt the weight of the curse like an unseen hand pressing down on his thoughts, demanding he submit. But that was the trick, wasn't it? It wasn't his real thoughts. It was a foreign force.

And Adrian Valor wasn't going to let anyone else dictate his mind.

The fog shattered.

Adrian exhaled sharply, blinking as the world came rushing back into focus. He was still standing exactly where he had been, his feet firmly planted. He hadn't moved.

The classroom was dead silent.

Moody's magical eye whirred erratically, fixating on Adrian as his scarred mouth stretched into a fierce grin.

"Well, shit."

Adrian ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. "That all you got, Professor?"

The students started murmuring among themselves clearly impressed with how Adrian had thrown off the curse.

Terry was gaping at him. "Mate, what are you?"

Jessica just let out a stunned laugh, shaking her head. "Okay, that was pretty cool."

Adrian shot her a wink.

He clapped Adrian on the shoulder, his grip strong. "You fought it off completely that time, Valor. That takes more than just raw power."

Adrian was still catching his breath, but his smirk came easily. "Guess I'm just built different."

Moody barked out a laugh. "Aye, maybe you are." He took a step back, studying Adrian like he was some rare magical creature he'd just discovered in the wild. "You ever thought about being an Auror, Valor?"

Adrian blinked. Heh... Auror huh... Flitwick has said the same thing. But not his thing.

Moody gave him a pointed look. "The kind of control you just showed? That's exactly the kind of skill we look for. Could put it to damn good use."

Adrian rolled his shoulders, considering the idea for half a second before flashing a grin. "Dueling's more my thing, Professor. But I'll keep it in mind."

Moody grunted. "You should. The world could use wizards who think like you." He cast one last appraising look at Adrian before addressing the class. "Lesson's over. Get outta here."

Adrian left the class with little smug look on his face while his friends followed him behind.

Padma, walking beside him, shook her head with an amused expression. "You're weird, you know that, right?"

Adrian gave her a smirk. "I think you meant to say brilliant."

Padma furrowed her brows as if to think. "Nope definitely weird."

They made their way through the corridors, weaving through the flow of students heading in all directions.

By the time they reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, the adrenaline was wearing off. Adrian gave the eagle knocker a glance as it posed its riddle, something about constellations and celestial bodies. Padma answered before he could even process the question, and the door swung open.

"Right you lot, I'm gonna go for a run need to clear my head after that. I swear I can still hear his voice in my head. Even though I could throw it off that shit was not pleasant."

Jess cooed. "Oh poor baby... And you looked like you were having so much fun!"

"Fuck off Jess."

Terry flopped onto one of the couches. "Go for it I'm gonna see if I can finish that History of Magic homework."

"I'll help." added Padma.

"Alright then see y'all later."

He changed quickly, swapping his school robes for a fitted athletic shirt and lightweight running trousers. The evening air was crisp, and the idea of running outside the castle sounded exactly like what he needed to clear his head.

By the time he stepped back out of the dorm, the common room had settled into its usual hum of quiet activity. He gave a quick nod to his friends before heading out.

The castle corridors were quieter now, most students either in their common rooms or at dinner. Adrian slipped through the halls with ease, making his way toward the main doors. Once outside, the cool air hit him instantly, refreshing against his skin.

He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders one last time before setting off at an nice paced jog, his feet hitting the stone path leading away from the castle.

Longer chapter. The Junior duelling circuit was something that I was planning on for a while. I know there are many iterations of this in fanfic but I'm going to try and give it my own spin. And Flitwick seemed like a decent character to introduce Adrian to this. Hopefully you liked their duel. Next chapter some interesting things will happen. I'll leave it at that. Hope you enjoyed and see y'all later!