Either You Two Duel

Everyone froze on the spot, staring at him as if they had seen a ghost.

Daphne thought the idea was outrageous and quietly tugged at his sleeve, but it was too late.

Tom raised his wand and snapped it twice in the sky. Two paper birds emerged from the tip of the wand and fluttered their wings as they flew toward the castle.

"Tom, what... what have you done?" Malfoy swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"It's nothing, we just need the two professors to come and judge this matter."

The Slytherin students were speechless, while the Gryffindor Quidditch Team shuddered.

Their dean isn't as unscrupulous as Snape. If things escalate to the point of physical violence, regardless of who's right or wrong, he's bound to get a severe scolding.

But Tom had already called everyone over, so they were stuck, unable to leave or stay, and could only stand there like lambs to the slaughter, waiting for the professor.

The twins glared at Tom resentfully. "We were dining buddies for a while, how could you be so treacherous!"

Less than ten minutes later, the two deans appeared at the Quidditch Pitch with dark faces.

Professor McGonagall had clearly been summoned urgently; she wasn't even wearing her signature pointed wizard hat, her hair was a mess, and she was shouting sternly.

"What exactly are you making a fuss about? You're using the court for training, not for gathering and causing trouble!"

"Professor, we haven't even started making a scene yet; we're just waiting for you to set the rules," Tom reminded him innocently.

"Mr. Riddle, I know!" Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes at him, annoyed.

"Since you brought this up, explain the whole story clearly."

Tom shrugged and said casually, "It's simple. Both Slytherin and Gryffindor have approval for today, and neither wants the pitch to be empty."

"I only had two ideas: either they fight a match, and the winner gets the court, or you fight Professor Snape, and the winner gets the official permit."

"Nonsense!" Professor McGonagall thought she had misheard. "It's just one stadium, can't the two teams each use it for half a day?"

"Why are we bringing up duels? Mr. Riddle, duels are not child's play. Who will be responsible if someone gets hurt?"

The twins glanced furtively at Hermione, then exchanged a look, almost bursting into laughter.

The nickname "McGonagall" is truly well-deserved; Hermione's idea was exactly the same as Professor McGonagall's.

"Professor McGonagall is right," Snape said slowly, deliberately drawing out his words.

"Only you could come up with such a crude idea. Although treating injured students is a piece of cake for me."

"But the fragile psychological trauma of Gryffindor students is a real problem."

Professor McGonagall grew increasingly uneasy. "What do you mean, you little bat?"

So, your students are guaranteed to win, while my students are destined to suffer psychological trauma?

Professor McGonagall managed to control her temper, but the hot-blooded Gryffindor Quidditch Team completely exploded.

Fred retorted, "Professor Snape, you should worry about your own students instead, or you'll end up crying and begging for their parents!"

"Oh, right, right," Snape replied perfunctorily, turning to look at Tom.

"Riddle, don't go to the teacher over such trivial matters in the future. It's not a big deal, how could it possibly escalate into a fight?"

"Professor McGonagall, how about we let Gryffindor in the morning, and then we Slytherin will come in the afternoon? What do you think?"

"No way!" the hot-tempered Angelina Johnson shouted, pushing Wood aside and putting her hands on her hips.

"We'll practice all day! Duel, let's duel now!"

Tom shrugged, looking innocently at Snape: "Professor, you see, my words don't carry any weight."

Snape cursed under his breath, thinking, "That brat is a born bad seed, deliberately trying to provoke me!"

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, her temper rising.

Her usual maturity and composure are the result of decades of experience.

Deep down, he's still the Gryffindor who broke his ribs and suffered a concussion while playing Quidditch.

"Snape, this is because we didn't communicate well, that's why we had to clash."

"Since the students are disobedient, let them resolve it themselves. The two of us will act as referees and make sure no one is seriously injured."

"Since you've put it that way, then fine," Snape said, feigning reluctance.

"There are exactly seven people on each team. It's a best-of-seven series, and the winner gets the right to use the facilities for one day."

No one objected, and the two teams instantly glared at each other with murderous intent, turning the Quidditch Pitch into a duel arena.

The audience consisted of Tom, the Greengrass sisters, Hermione and Colin, oh, and Rayquaza just there for the fun.

As soon as Colin saw Rayquaza, he immediately pointed his camera at Tom, Tom then made a cool gesture in response.

Colin's camera flashes never stopped; Tom guessed that the kid had spent all his allowance on film.

"You're deliberately stirring things up! I saw you winking at Snape!" Hermione shoved Tom angrily.

"Yeah, right," Tom readily admitted. "Why not enjoy a free show so early in the morning?"

"Wizards rely on their wands to communicate. Even if things are resolved peacefully today, they'll only resort to even more ruthless tactics next time we meet."

Hermione couldn't refute it; the two teams almost came to blows last year, and if Harry hadn't caught the Golden Snitch so quickly, someone might have gotten hurt.

"Are you so sure Slytherin will win?" she asked, unconvinced.

Tom remained silent, while Daphne gloated from the side.

"Don't worry, even if Merlin were to appear, those Gryffindor guys wouldn't be able to win."

"Wood and Johnson have good grades, the twins know a lot of curses, you Slytherin are too arrogant!"

Tom and Daphne exchanged a smile and didn't argue further. The naive little girl would find out soon enough.

With the rules set simply, the first duel began immediately. Marcus Flint and Wood, as captains, were the first to fight.

Wood immediately unleashed an attack spell, but failed to notice that Marcus Flint secretly cast the Iron Armor Charm while bowing.

The moment the spell was deflected, Wood was completely stunned. What to do next? The enemy had the Iron Armor Charm —should he still attack?

His mind went blank, but Marcus Flint didn't have time to wait for him to react. He yelled out two of his most familiar spells.

The next second, Wood's legs started tap dancing uncontrollably, and then an invisible rope tightened around his neck, slamming him to the ground.

Marcus Flint stepped forward, snatched his wand, waved it defiantly, and then casually tossed it to the ground.

"It ended so quickly?" Snape feigned surprise, his smugness almost overflowing.

Professor McGonagall, her face dark, dispelled the spell. Wood coughed as he got up, his head almost touching his chest.

He slunk away to Harry's side, wishing he could crawl into a crack in the ground—it was too embarrassing!

"Oliver, I'll avenge you!" Angelina walked out with a heroic air, but her idea was beautiful, while reality was harsh.

Bletchley Drax, the Slytherin representative, was a seventh-year student who had challenged Shadow Prefect, though unsuccessfully. However, his strength far surpassed Angelina's.