Dueling Club Rules

On Tuesday morning, Zhang Wen handed Snape a draft of the Dueling Club rules.

Snape spent an entire class reviewing it, then returned the draft at lunchtime. It was covered in dense red-ink notes and revisions.

Zhang Wen counted them—twenty-three in total.

"Your rules are too lax," Snape had written in the margin of the first page.

Zhang Wen's original rule had been, "All spells taught in class may be used." Snape changed it to, "Only spells from a list reviewed and approved by the supervising professor may be used."

The difference was significant. The former depended on the students' class schedules; the latter depended on Snape.

Beside the third rule, Zhang Wen found Snape's biggest revision:

Original: "The summoning of any creature is prohibited."

Snape's note: "Too absolute. Suggest revising to: 'The summoning of creatures rated above danger level three is prohibited.' Level one and two creatures may be used as tactical means under professor supervision."

Zhang Wen crossed it out.

What level were snakes? He wasn't sure. But he had no intention of giving anyone any chance to summon one.

Beside it, he wrote: "Original wording retained. The summoning of any creature is prohibited. Reason: Lower-year students lack sufficient control, and all summoning magic carries a risk of losing control."

Snape probably wouldn't be pleased. But Zhang Wen would not compromise on this point.

Most of the other changes were reasonable. Snape's attention to safety details was indeed stricter than Zhang Wen's—for example, he required that "before every duel, both parties must show their wands to the referee to confirm that no hidden curses have been added," and that "the side that loses their wand automatically forfeits; unarmed attacks are not permitted."

These were practical rules. They showed that although Snape had a sharp tongue, he took this matter seriously.

After making the revisions, Zhang Wen copied the final version twice—one copy for Snape, one for McGonagall's approval.

On Wednesday afternoon, McGonagall's approval came through.

Approved. Attached was a note: "Please ensure that Hufflepuff students are not affected by the hostility between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Hufflepuff students are generally rather gentle and easily frightened. —M.M."

Zhang Wen felt that McGonagall understood Hufflepuff exceptionally well.

Once approval was granted, Zhang Wen officially announced the Dueling Club during dinner that evening.

He stood before the staff table and used an Amplifying Charm to carry his voice throughout the Great Hall.

"Students, beginning on the second Saturday of this month, the school will be opening a Dueling Club. Professor Snape and I will host it jointly, while Assistant Pendragon will serve as referee. Students from second year and above may sign up voluntarily."

The Great Hall immediately erupted.

At the Gryffindor table, Fred and George stood up at the same time.

"Dueling!" Fred shouted.

"Club!" George shouted.

"We're signing up!" they yelled together.

The cheers from Gryffindor nearly lifted the ceiling off.

Slytherin was far more reserved, but Zhang Wen noticed Malfoy's eyes light up.

The Ravenclaw students discussed it among themselves, their expressions hovering somewhere between "interested" and "cautiously observing."

Over at Hufflepuff—as McGonagall had predicted—a few lower-year girls had gone pale.

"Quiet." Zhang Wen raised a hand. "Let me emphasize this: this is a voluntary activity, not mandatory. All duels will take place under professor supervision and follow comprehensive safety rules. Registration details and the full rules will be posted on each House's notice board tomorrow."

He paused, then added, "Also, second-year students who wish to participate must undergo an additional assessment. Those who pass may be admitted as exceptions."

That sentence was a back door specifically left open for Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

They were second-years and normally could not participate. But Zhang Wen needed them to gain experience in the Dueling Club environment—when the Chamber of Secrets Incident broke out, those three would definitely charge to the front.

When Harry heard the words "admitted as exceptions," he immediately looked at Ron and Hermione. The three exchanged a glance, and the meaning was obvious—we're joining.

Within twenty-four hours of the announcement, Zhang Wen received forty-seven applications.

Fifteen from Gryffindor, twelve from Slytherin, eleven from Ravenclaw, and nine from Hufflepuff.

Gryffindor having the most came as no surprise.

Hufflepuff having nine was no small number either—it exceeded Zhang Wen's expectations. It seemed McGonagall had underestimated the badgers' courage.

Six second-years applied for exceptional admission: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville Longbottom, and two Slytherin students—Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.

Malfoy wanted to join.

Zhang Wen stared at Malfoy's signature on the application form for a while.

Letting Malfoy join the Dueling Club carried risks—he might treat it as a stage for showing off, and he might clash with Gryffindor students. But there were benefits as well—in a formal, rule-bound competitive environment, Malfoy could learn that winning did not necessarily mean bullying others.

Besides, if Zhang Wen rejected his application, Lucius Malfoy would gain another piece of material for the accusation that "Zhang Wen discriminates against Slytherin."

"Let them all join," Zhang Wen told Artoria. "All six will pass the exceptional assessment."

"You don't intend to actually test them?"

"The assessment is just for appearances. I know the abilities of all six."

"Then what is the point of the assessment?"

"To make the other second-years feel it's fair," Zhang Wen said. "If I let these six join without testing them, the others will object. We go through the process, and everyone can save face."

Artoria considered it, then nodded in agreement.

The exceptional assessment was scheduled for Thursday afternoon.

The six second-year students stood in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, facing Zhang Wen and Artoria.

The test was simple: Disarming Charm accuracy and Shield Charm stability.

Harry went first. Nine hits out of ten with the Disarming Charm, and his Shield Charm withstood three standard-strength impacts. Passed.

Hermione went second. Six hits out of ten with the Disarming Charm, and her Shield Charm withstood four impacts. Zhang Wen noticed that her Shield Charm was stronger than her Disarming Charm—a defensive specialist. Passed.

Ron went third. Seven hits out of ten with the Disarming Charm, and his Shield Charm withstood two impacts. Barely, but enough. Passed.

Neville went fourth.

The atmosphere in the classroom became subtly strange. The other five all looked at Neville—not maliciously, but with the uncertainty of, "Can he do it?"

Neville walked to the testing position and raised his wand.

His hand was shaking.

Zhang Wen glanced at Artoria. She stood at the side of the classroom with an expressionless face, but Zhang Wen noticed that her gaze was more focused than it had been on the others.

"Begin," Zhang Wen said.

Neville took a deep breath.

"Expelliarmus!"

The first shot—missed. No hit.

The second—grazed the edge. Barely counted.

The third—hit. Outer ring.

The fourth—hit. Outer ring.

The fifth—missed.

For the sixth, he paused. He closed his eyes.

Zhang Wen knew he was using that method of "don't aim at the target."

Neville opened his eyes and looked at the wall beside the target.

"Expelliarmus."

Hit. Inner ring.

The seventh shot. Hit.

The eighth shot. Hit.

The ninth shot. Missed.

The tenth shot. Hit.

Six hits out of ten.

Zhang Wen looked at the record: two more hits than during last week's after-class tutoring.

Then came the Shield Charm test. Neville's Shield Charm only withstood one impact before shattering on the second.

By the numbers, Neville was the weakest of the six.

Zhang Wen looked at Artoria.

"Passed," Artoria said.

There was no hesitation in her tone.

Malfoy frowned slightly in the back, but said nothing.

Blaise Zabini went last. His performance was unexpectedly good—eight hits out of ten with the Disarming Charm, and his Shield Charm withstood three impacts. This quiet Slytherin boy usually had little presence, but his fundamentals were quite solid.

All six passed.

"Congratulations, everyone," Zhang Wen said. "Saturday at two in the afternoon, see you in the Great Hall."

The six students left the classroom one after another. Neville was the last to go.

As he passed Artoria, he stopped.

"Thank you, Assistant Pendragon," he said quietly.

"You do not need to thank me," Artoria said. "You passed the test."

"But my score was the worst..."

"Scores do not equal strength." Artoria's tone was calm. "You adjusted your approach midway through and landed four consecutive hits. That proves you can correct yourself under pressure. Many people with better scores than yours cannot do that."

Neville's eyes lit up.

He nodded and hurried out of the classroom.

Malfoy was waiting by the door for Zabini. When he saw Neville run out, his mouth twisted slightly—not in mockery, but more in confusion.

He probably did not understand why someone with the lowest score had been allowed to pass.

In Malfoy's worldview, the weakest should be eliminated. That was what Lucius Malfoy had taught him.

But Artoria's standards were different.

Sooner or later, that difference would collide in the Dueling Club. Zhang Wen was already prepared.

Friday. One day until the first Dueling Club session.

Zhang Wen was making final preparations in his office.

Match schedule: eight duels in the first round, five minutes each. Students from the same House would be avoided as much as possible—the first session would focus on exchange between Houses.

He arranged the list three times, repeatedly checking for pairings that might trigger serious conflict.

Harry against Malfoy—no. Putting those two against each other on the first day would be far too explosive. Save it for later.

Fred against George—interesting, but no educational value. Skip it.

Hermione against Parkinson—Hermione would win, but Parkinson might make a scene after losing. Not yet.

Neville against—Zhang Wen hesitated.

What kind of opponent should Neville face? Someone too strong would crush him and hurt his confidence. Someone too weak would leave him with no sense of achievement even if he won.

"Have him duel a Hufflepuff second-year," Artoria said as she came over and glanced at the list. "Hannah Abbott. Her magic is moderately strong, and she has a gentle personality. She will not press an attack when her opponent falls."

Zhang Wen looked at her.

"When did you study Hannah Abbott's personality?"

"I observed her during physical training. When she saw another student fall while running, she stopped to help, hurting her own score." Artoria paused. "People like that do not live long on a battlefield, but they make the best sparring partners in training."

"Your evaluation system really is unique."

"Practical."

Zhang Wen arranged Neville and Hannah as the third match.

He also considered the remaining duels carefully. Fred against a Ravenclaw fifth-year—give Ravenclaw a challenge. George against a Slytherin fourth-year—a cross-faction clash. Harry against a Ravenclaw second-year—let Harry warm up without too much pressure.

Ron against Zabini.

Zhang Wen thought about that pairing for a long time. Ron's emotions would fluctuate when dueling a Slytherin student. But Zabini was not the sort to provoke others deliberately like Malfoy; he had always been something of a loner within Slytherin.

This match could test whether Ron could remain rational when facing a Slytherin opponent without hostile intent.

As for Hermione—Zhang Wen ultimately decided not to let her compete in the first session.

"Why?" Artoria asked.

"Hermione's weakness in actual combat is too obvious. Her casting speed is slow. If she gets quickly defeated in public, it will deal a serious blow to her confidence. I want her to observe one round first, see how others fight, then compete next time."

"She will not agree."

"She will," Zhang Wen said. "I'll make her the recorder for the first session—she'll record the spells used in every duel, the number of attack and defense exchanges, and the reasons for victory or defeat. She's more suited for that than anyone."

"Using data analysis in place of combat participation."

"For Hermione, analysis is more valuable than participation. Once she sees everyone's fighting patterns clearly, she'll know where each opponent's weaknesses lie when she takes the stage next time."

Artoria thought for a moment.

"You are training her to become a tactical analyst."

"Hermione Granger is already the person at Hogwarts best suited to be a tactical analyst," Zhang Wen said. "Her mind is a high-speed information-processing machine. Sending her to the front line for direct confrontation would be a waste. Her true place is in the rear, analyzing data and formulating strategy."

"In the Holy Grail War, that role is called—"

"Master," Zhang Wen finished for her. "Yes. If Hermione were in the Type-Moon Universe, she would be an exceptional Master."

Artoria looked at him, and the corner of her mouth moved slightly.

"Better than you?"

"...I refuse to answer that question."

On Friday night, Zhang Wen went to the Great Hall to inspect the venue.

The House-elves had already cleared away the tables and chairs as instructed, then built a rectangular dueling platform in the center—wooden flooring raised half a meter above the ground, with low barriers surrounding it.

The surface was covered with non-slip mats. A pillar stood at each of the platform's four corners, each hung with a magical lantern for illumination.

There was a marked standing area at each end of the dueling platform, outlined in white. The duelists would begin from their respective positions and move freely across the platform.

The spectator seating was on both sides below the platform. Zhang Wen had the House-elves add a transparent protective barrier in front of the seats to keep stray spells from hurting the audience.

"The venue is acceptable." Artoria walked around the dueling platform once. "But the platform is too small."

"How so?"

"If both duelists use mobile tactics, this area won't be enough for them to maneuver." She measured it with her steps. "About eight meters by four meters. It needs to be at least ten by six."

"Then we need a bigger platform."

"Or no platform at all. We can mark out the dueling area directly on the floor."

Zhang Wen thought about it.

A platform had the advantage of height, letting the audience see clearly. But Artoria was right—the area was too small and would restrict the students.

"A compromise," Zhang Wen said. "Dismantle the platform and mark out a ten-by-six-meter area on the floor. Then raise the audience seating by one level—let the spectators watch from the steps."

"That works."

Zhang Wen called over the house-elves to rearrange everything. The elves were incredibly efficient—the renovations were finished within half an hour. The dueling area was marked by golden bands of light, and the floor inside had been treated to make it both slip-resistant and slightly springy.

"Tomorrow at two." Zhang Wen stood in the empty Great Hall and looked around.

The Dueling Club.

Since coming to this world, this was the first major event he had actively created that did not exist in the original story. Everything he had done before—the mirrors, the roosters, Ginny's social network—had been defensive, intended to lessen the consequences of known disasters.

But the Dueling Club was different.

It was offensive.

He was training an army.

Though the members of this "army" were children between twelve and seventeen, their weapons were wands made of wood, and their enemy was a snake whose existence they did not yet know.

But Zhang Wen understood—when the Chamber of Secrets truly opened, whether these children could protect themselves would depend on how much he taught them now.

"You're spacing out." Artoria's voice came from beside him.

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"About what happens if all the plans fail."

Artoria fell silent for two seconds.

"Then we'll use the most primitive method," she said.

"What method?"

"I'll go kill the snake."

Zhang Wen looked at her.

Her tone was as calm as if she had said, "I'll go eat."

But Zhang Wen knew she was serious. If every precaution failed—the mirrors proved useless, the roosters were too late, the pipe map was marked incorrectly—Artoria would face the Basilisk directly.

With her body. With her swordsmanship. With everything she was as the King of Britain.

"The Basilisk's gaze kills anyone who looks directly into its eyes," Zhang Wen reminded her.

"Then I'll fight with my eyes closed."

"...Are you serious?"

"During the Holy Grail War, a third of my battles with Berserker were fought under restricted visibility. Fighting with my eyes closed isn't ideal, but it can be done."

Zhang Wen thought about it.

The King of Knights fighting a giant snake with her eyes closed.

It sounded insane.

But if it was Artoria—

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Zhang Wen said.

"I hope not," Artoria agreed. "But if it does—"

"I know," Zhang Wen said. "You'll stand at the front."

"Not just me."

Zhang Wen looked at her.

"You will too," Artoria said. "You've always stood at the front. It's just that your place isn't on the battlefield, but behind it. Your way of fighting isn't with a sword, but with plans."

She paused.

"That's your strength. And your weakness."

"My weakness?"

"You always plan everything alone behind the battlefield. If the plan fails, you have no way out."

Zhang Wen fell silent.

"That's why I need you," Artoria said. "You need someone standing in front of you, blocking everything. And I need someone standing behind me, seeing the whole picture."

She looked at him.

"That's what partners are for."

Zhang Wen looked into her eyes. Green—no, that wasn't right. Artoria's eyes were emerald green. Under the light of the magical lanterns in the Great Hall, they were calm and resolute.

"All right," Zhang Wen said. "Partners."

Artoria nodded once.

Then she turned and headed for the doors.

"We're going back. We have to get up early tomorrow."

"Wait." Zhang Wen called after her. "As the referee for tomorrow's Dueling Club, is there anything you need to pay special attention to?"

Artoria stopped and turned back, thinking for a moment.

"If anyone cheats, I'll disqualify them immediately."

"How do you define cheating?"

"Attacking before the referee declares the match started. Using spells outside the rules. Continuing to attack an opponent who has already fallen."

"What else?"

"Lying in front of the referee."

"How will you judge that last one?"

"I can tell."

Zhang Wen had no doubt about that. After spending so many years in Camelot's court, Artoria's ability to spot lies had probably reached the level of instinct.

"All right," Zhang Wen said. "Then that's settled. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Artoria left.

Zhang Wen stood alone in the empty Great Hall.

Tomorrow.

The first day of the Dueling Club.

He hoped everything would go smoothly.

But he was prepared for things not to.

At Hogwarts, the words "everything goes smoothly" had never been reliable.