Head of New Students

The two stood ten feet apart and bowed slightly to each other.

"Begin," Narcissa announced.

Hermes moved almost the instant her words fell, thrusting his wand forward. "Rictusempra!"

A flash of Silver Light shot toward Regulus. Opening a duel with the Tickling Charm was not particularly vicious, but it was sudden.

Regulus did not move his feet. With a casual flick of his wand, an identical flash of Silver Light flew from its tip, colliding precisely with Hermes's spell in midair and exploding into sparkling fragments.

"Leglocker Curse!" Hermes followed immediately with a second spell, a blue light skimming swiftly along the ground.

Regulus merely tapped his wand against the floor, raising an Invisible barrier before him. The Leg-Locker Curse struck it as if it had hit a slope, veering diagonally toward the wall and vanishing.

"Impedimenta!" Hermes secretly fired a third spell.

"Impedimenta." Regulus cast the same spell. The two identical curses collided in the center of the open space with dull, booming thuds.

But Regulus's spell was clearly more powerful. It not only shattered Hermes's curse, but continued onward without dispersing, smashing toward Hermes.

Hermes had to roll across the floor to barely evade it, looking somewhat disheveled.

The younger students nearby widened their eyes and covered their mouths with startled gasps, while the older students nodded repeatedly.

Anyone could see that Regulus's spells were astonishingly powerful.

Regulus still did not attack proactively. He simply blocked or deflected every one of Hermes's attacks with ease. The Petrificus Totalus was knocked aside, and Incendio was extinguished by Aguamenti.

He even avoided some spells with only the slightest movement.

Throughout the entire exchange, Regulus did not leave the small patch of ground where he had initially stood.

Everything he used was among the most basic defensive and disruptive spells in Standard Spells, yet each was perfectly timed and effortlessly executed.

His expression never changed from beginning to end. It seemed less like he was fighting and more like he was teaching, his posture relaxed.

As for Hermes, his attacks grew faster and his spells more devious, displaying a command of spellwork far beyond that of an ordinary new student. His family had clearly trained him in advance.

Yet his face grew increasingly unpleasant, and his breathing gradually became heavier.

He was not stupid. He could tell that Regulus had not used his full strength—perhaps he had not exerted himself at all.

That effortless response filled him with humiliation and helplessness.

"Is dodging all you can do, Black?!" Hermes growled, anger and ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.

He stopped his rapid barrage, raised his wand high, and began chanting in a lower, more difficult tone. An ominous dark red glow gathered at the tip of his wand, and the surrounding air seemed to turn several degrees colder.

Several older students frowned. Prefect Lucretius Black took a step forward, seemingly intending to stop him.

Narcissa frowned tightly, her Fingers already closing around her wand.

But it was too late.

"Blood Boil!" Hermes rasped out the final syllables. A dark red, nearly black beam carrying an icy, agonizing aura shot violently toward Regulus!

Dark Arts!

Though it was clearly an incomplete version with greatly weakened power, its sinister and venomous nature could not be mistaken. Cries of alarm rose throughout the common room.

Faced with this malicious strike, the calm in Regulus's eyes finally shifted ever so slightly.

Just as expected, Hermes was skilled in Dark Arts. Regulus could clearly sense that he had used this Magic on living people.

Heh. A fine family tradition.

Regulus stopped using those basic spells as well.

He pointed his wand forward. There was no gesture and no incantation, the movement stripped down to its absolute simplest form.

A solid silver barrier, like a Crystal wall, instantly appeared before him, intricate and orderly ripples flowing across its surface.

The dark red beam slammed fiercely into the silver barrier.

A teeth-grinding hiss rose from the point of contact, as though metal were being corroded.

The dark red glow frantically eroded the silver shield, yet could not penetrate it.

After roughly two seconds of deadlock, the dark red beam weakened and vanished completely under Hermes's pale face and incredulous gaze. The silver barrier remained as firm as before.

At the very instant the dark red light dispersed, Regulus took the initiative and stepped forward, a point of red light igniting at his wand's tip.

"Expelliarmus."

A red beam far more solid and swift than any spell Hermes had cast before struck Hermes in the chest like lightning tearing through the air.

"Crack!"

Hermes's wand flew high into the air, spinning in an arc before Regulus caught it steadily with his free hand.

The duel was over.

This was the dignity Regulus afforded his roommate. Otherwise, a single Leg-Locker Curse would have been enough to make Hermes kneel.

From Hermes casting Dark Arts to Regulus dismantling the attack and disarming him, the entire process took less than five seconds—so fast that many had not even recovered from the shock of seeing Dark Arts.

The common room fell deathly silent, everyone staring at the center of the open space.

Hermes stood frozen in place, his right hand still held in the posture of gripping a wand.

His body trembled slightly, his face as pale as paper, his eyes vacant. He seemed unable to accept that his most secret and trusted method had been so easily broken.

Regulus walked over and handed Hermes's wand back to him. His voice remained steady, without a victor's smugness or disdain for Dark Arts, carrying only calm composure.

"Not a bad attempt, but the spell structure was unstable, and your Magic Power supply was intermittent. Next time you use it, you should think about killing me instead of hesitating."

The moment his words fell, the air in the common room seemed to freeze.

The word "killing," spoken so calmly by an eleven-year-old boy, sent chills down everyone's spines.

The older students reacted most directly. Lucretius Burke's eyebrows shot upward, undisguised appreciation—and even delight—flashing in his eyes.

Beside him, several core Pureblood students from the fifth and sixth years exchanged looks and began whispering. "Did you hear that? 'Think about killing me'!"

"Merlin! Those words came from a first-year's mouth..."

"Elegant, powerful, and..." A seventh-year girl from the Carrow family licked her lips, her eyes blazing.

"He doesn't make a fuss about Dark Arts like those hypocrites. He knows exactly what it is. Now that's how a Slytherin should be!"

"The Black family might really produce someone remarkable this time," another boy from the Nott family concluded, his tone solemn.

In their eyes, Regulus viewed Dark Arts objectively, assessing the caster's skill while disregarding its inherent evil.

In a sense, that attitude aligned more closely with the values of certain ancient Pureblood families than Hermes's half-baked Dark Arts did.

Alex Rosier's lips moved. He looked at Hermes, whose face was deathly pale as though his soul had been drained away, then at the composed Regulus.

He wanted to say something, perhaps, "This was just a duel. Talking about killing is too much...," or, "Hermes used Dark Arts. That wasn't right..."

But when the words reached his lips, he could not force them out.

When Regulus's calm gaze swept over him, all his childish thoughts seemed frozen solid. He could only lower his head in panic and stare at the tips of his shoes.

Avery Cuthbert, meanwhile, felt entirely differently.

During the earlier Flying Class conflict, he had believed that the gap between himself and Regulus might not be so great, and that all he needed was to catch up in skill and thought.

Now he understood. The gap was plain to see. He clenched his fists, then slowly loosened them. In the end, he only looked at the two in the center with complicated eyes and did nothing.

As for Hermes Mulciber himself, his vacant eyes suddenly focused. He stared fixedly at Regulus, humiliation, shock, fear, and a trace of wretchedness churning within them.

He had indeed hesitated. He did not dare, and could not, unleash the spell's full power in front of everyone.

He suddenly snatched back his wand, his Fingers gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white. Lowering his head, he quickly retreated into the Shadows at the edge of the crowd, locking all his emotions back beneath that gloomy mask.

"Ahem." Narcissa coughed lightly, breaking the strange atmosphere.

She exchanged a glance with Lucretius. Both understood that tonight's welcome had achieved its purpose, even exceeding expectations.

There was no need to continue, nor would there be any further suspense.

Lucretius stepped forward and looked around at the remaining new students, his voice as usual. "Then, does anyone wish to challenge Black or Mulciber?"

His gaze slowly swept over them. Alex lowered his head, while the other new students shook their heads repeatedly, avoiding his eyes.

Even Avery, who might once have held some hope, now stood silently where he was without making any indication.

"Since that is the case, Regulus Black shall be the Head of New Students. I hope all of you will take this as your goal and improve yourselves."