Inside the office of the Head of Ravenclaw House, Professor Flitwick sat behind a low desk and matching chair, reading through Regulus's Duelling Club proposal. Meanwhile, Regulus took the opportunity to observe the bright and beautifully arranged room.
The most eye-catching feature was a large mosaic portrait of Helena Ravenclaw hanging on the wall. In the painting, she stood sideways in a serene garden, wearing her signature diadem. Even the frame of the painting was inlaid with shimmering mother-of-pearl, dazzling in its elegance and detail.
The light reflecting off the portrait alone was enough to brighten the entire office, casting a soft glow across the room.
On the desk sat a collection of finely wrought Goblin-made silverware—delicate, detailed, and unmistakably high-quality—matching Professor Flitwick's refined aesthetic.
All of the furniture was made from polished oak and designed low to the ground, suited perfectly to his stature and allowing him to move about with ease.
"Hmm… letting a magical item select the contestants—that's a clever idea. Very fair." Professor Flitwick tapped his desk thoughtfully with one finger. Then, with a flick of his wand, a box resembling a miniature postbox appeared in the open space beside them.
"Just like in the Triwizard Tournament—I hear the champions were chosen by the Goblet of Fire."
If we're founding a club, Regulus thought, we may as well make the system thorough from the beginning.
"You actually know about the Goblet of Fire—at your age? Quite impressive. You're already thinking ahead." Professor Flitwick smiled widely, nodding with approval. "That's the power of wisdom! You should have been a Ravenclaw."
Regulus—who had technically lived two lives—felt a rare flicker of embarrassment (or perhaps it was his older self feeling the blush). He quickly pointed to the mosaic on the wall, changing the subject:
"Professor, the diadem in the painting—is that the legendary Diadem of Ravenclaw?"
...
On the evening of the first Friday in October, students began gathering in the Great Hall as expected.
The long House tables had vanished, replaced by a simply decorated stage set up along one wall.
Overhead, hundreds of floating candles illuminated a banner suspended mid-air:
The Duelling Club
The scene resembled the Sorting Ceremony—packed shoulder to shoulder, it looked as if nearly every student in the school had turned up.
Some of the students seated near the front were already clutching their wands, faces brimming with anticipation—these were the ones who had passed the first round of selection for the Duelling Club.
Professor Flitwick, dressed in elegant dark blue robes, and Professor Stokke, wearing light blue formal robes, stepped onto the stage—clearly, Ravenclaws did have a preference for shades of blue.
Beside them stood a tall, black-haired boy—Regulus—clad in simple black robes. But this time, instead of a Slytherin crest on his chest, he wore the Hogwarts crest.
Pinned to his robes was a small, round golden badge bearing two crossed wands and the letters DC in the centre.
As the professors took their seats, the clamour in the Great Hall gradually faded.
"Good evening, everyone!" Regulus called out, casting a Sonorus Charm on himself. The effect was excellent—his voice rang out clearly across the Hall.
"Thank you to Headmaster Dumbledore for allowing us to restart the Duelling Club. We hope this will help everyone better prepare for the unexpected…"
"Our first activity tonight will be hosted by Professor Flitwick and Professor Stokke. I believe these distinguished guests need no further introduction. And before we begin—both professors have kindly agreed to perform a brief demonstration for us all."
"Don't worry, we have a former Duelling Champion with us tonight—" Regulus leaned slightly towards Professor Flitwick, who stood and gave a graceful bow. "Professor Filius Flitwick!"
A round of applause followed.
"And, the Healer from the Department of Magical Accidents and Injuries at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries—Professor Ted Stokke."
Professor Stokke doffed his hat politely in greeting.
"Of course," Regulus added with a smile, "I sincerely hope we won't be needing Professor Stokke's medical expertise tonight~~!"
"Ahaha!" A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd.
"Over the past two weeks, we've received a large number of application letters. These have been sorted into three groups: second and third years, fourth and fifth years, and sixth and seventh years."
The first-year students collectively sighed in disappointment—understandable, given they'd only just begun school and didn't yet have grades in Defence Against the Dark Arts or Charms. All they could do for now was enjoy the show.
"With the sponsorship and support of Professor Flitwick—" Regulus continued, gesturing toward a large, enchanted box on the stage that resembled a mailbox, "we used magic to filter and sort the applicants. From that process, the first twelve participants have been selected!"
"There will be six duels tonight!"
The atmosphere in the Great Hall warmed instantly, anticipation buzzing among the students.
"So, without further ado—let's invite both Professors to take their positions."
Professor Flitwick walked calmly to one side of the stage, chest out, head held high—his composed demeanour radiating an authority that matched the taller figure opposite him.
The two Professors took their marked positions at opposite ends of the stage, turned to face one another, and bowed.
Below the stage, a hush fell over the Great Hall—utter silence.
Not a whisper could be heard as hundreds of eyes fixed on the duel about to begin.
"As we can see, our Professors are exceptionally gentlemanly," Regulus announced. "They're now assuming traditional duelling stances, wands at the ready."
"I'll count to three, and the Professors will cast their opening spells. Naturally, Dark curses are prohibited. For targeted training, only specific categories of spells may be used… Please refer to the previously posted list for full details."
Hmm… Seems like the Quidditch-style commentary isn't going over too well—
Regulus wisely chose to shut up.
"Begin! One—Two—Three—!"
Both Professors raised their wands sharply over their shoulders—so quickly it sent a small gust of wind rippling across the stage.
"Expelliarmus!" they shouted in unison.
Two brilliant red jets of light burst from their wands and collided mid-air in a blinding explosion.
The impact radiated outward in a shimmering burst of magical energy.
So powerful! Regulus—like many of the younger students—was momentarily stunned. This level of magic was worlds apart from that well-known fraud, Lockhart...
Speaking of which, Regulus wondered idly, would Lockhart end up becoming his junior someday?
Many students hadn't even had time to applaud or cheer before the second, third—more—blinding jets of light flew from the tips of the Professors' wands.
But this time, the spells were non-verbal—their lips moved silently, but the effects were anything but subtle. Dazzling beams of magic crisscrossed through the air, carving glowing trajectories across the stage.
The duelling platform was lit up like a curtain of multicoloured light, sparks bursting in every direction—a spectacular display of spellwork and control, more like a grand theatrical light show than a duel.
Of course, a real duel didn't need to be that flashy. A single jet of green light would have been quite enough.
But Regulus had specifically suggested they make a memorable impression for the Duelling Club's debut—especially for the younger students.
Professor Flitwick moved with effortless precision, weaving nimbly through the chaos of colour and light. In contrast, Professor Stokke, while certainly competent, lacked a touch of agility—years behind a desk and at a hospital desk would do that.
Details determine destiny!
In a split second of hesitation, Professor Stokke was struck by two spells from opposing angles—deceptively tricky trajectories that left him off-balance. He staggered back a few steps, then lowered the tip of his wand.
"I yield," he said calmly. Years of work as a Healer had dulled his edge—he knew it.
The whole exchange had lasted under two minutes, but the crowd felt as though they'd just watched fireworks erupt across the stage—electrifying and unforgettable.
And against the Head of Ravenclaw House, there was no shame in defeat.
"Professor Flitwick hit me with a Binding Charm, then immediately followed with a Finite Incantatem," Professor Stokke explained to the students below, admiration in his voice.
The two Professors shook hands again, and Regulus quickly stepped up with a small phial.
"Revitalising Potion—brewed by Severus Snape of Slytherin House," he announced, seizing the perfect opportunity to boost his friend's reputation. "Now, everyone! Let's hear it for Professor Flitwick!"
The hall erupted with cheers! Applause echoed continuously, especially from the Ravenclaw little eagles. The younger students stared at Professor Flitwick with shining eyes—every one of them hoping their name would be called for the evening's duelling matches.
Professor Flitwick gave a bow in response.
Then, in his signature high-pitched voice, he addressed the crowd:
"Next, we'll use the enchanted mailbox to select twelve Little Wizards—two from each year. But before that, I'd like to say a few words—"
"The most useful skill I stumbled into as a student wasn't a spell or a theory. It was the ability to not be afraid of looking like a complete fool! If you have the courage to keep going—even when you look ridiculous—you'll become unstoppable."
He paused, eyes scanning the crowd.
"Sometimes, it takes both courage and wisdom to speak up when you see something wrong. To reason with your opponent, to challenge injustice—not just with spells, but with truth."
"Wand in hand, sharpness in heart—that is the spirit of our Duelling Club!"
The Great Hall burst into thunderous applause, the energy peaking. Even Professor McGonagall, who had just arrived and stood discreetly among the Gryffindors, clapped with vigour.
She felt Flitwick had expressed exactly what she believed in.
With a flick of his wand, Professor Flitwick sent twelve pieces of parchment soaring out from the enchanted mailbox—
"Let's begin! The first pair of opponents: a third-year from Hufflepuff…"