The morning light outlined her slender yet upright figure. Hermione's eyes were fixed on Draco: "Come on, let's spar."
It's not a request, it's a demand.
Draco was lounging back in his chair, his hands resting on them, a playful smile on his face.
"Wife, are you sure you want to spar with me now?" he asked. "You know my strength."
Hermione smiled in unison with Draco, looking Draco straight in the eye and asking, "You're willing to do that?"
"I really hate to part with you," Draco honestly admitted. "After all, I'm the one who feels bad for you after making you cry."
But then he changed the subject...
"But... are you sure you don't want me to use my full strength? Are you sure all you want is this kind of childish play?"
This statement struck a chord with Hermione, hitting her right where it hurt the most.
What she wanted was never Draco's indulgence, nor the kind of playful banter between lovers.
The feeling of being protected under someone's wings was warm, but it also made her feel like a weakling.
What she wanted was to stand shoulder to shoulder, to be equals, for Draco to also see her as a truly worthy opponent worthy of his full effort.
"Of course I hope so," Hermione's firm voice rang out. "So, Draco, put away your reluctance and fear of hurting me. In the dueling arena, there are no fiancées, only opponents. Go all out, don't let me win."
Draco gazed at her, seeing a light in those stubborn brown eyes he had never seen before.
He finally dropped his nonchalant attitude, and the smile on his lips became more serious.
Rising to his feet, Draco gracefully performed a dueling salute and whispered, "As you wish, Miss Granger."
As Draco thought of it, the walls of the Room of Requirement began to change. The soft tapestries disappeared, replaced by hard, cold obsidian walls, and the floor became wide and flat, like an arena built specifically for duels.
The two stood ten meters apart, and time seemed to stand still.
"Now," Draco finally drew his ancient wand, his voice calm and even, "We may begin, Miss Granger. Shall we go first, you or me?"
Hermione was already on high alert.
She held her hawthorn wand firmly in her hand, the tip pointing downwards towards the ground—a standard dueling stance.
She didn't answer; she showed everything through her actions.
" Expelliarmus!"
Almost at the same moment Draco finished speaking, Hermione's spell was cast, and a dazzling red light shot straight towards Draco's right hand, which was holding the wand!
But Draco's movements were faster!
It felt like my feet had springs installed; I gently slid to the left.
The Disarming Charm grazed the hem of his robe on his right arm and struck the wall dozens of meters behind him with a dull thud, followed by a flash of light on the wall.
At the same time, Draco's counterattack arrived!
" Incarcerous!"
He didn't use any lethal spells, but the speed and precision of his Binding Charm were in no way inferior to Hermione's Disarming Charm.
Several strong magical ropes, like living venomous snakes, silently and swiftly coiled around Hermione's ankles and wrists from different angles!
Hermione was already prepared; the instant Draco dodged to the side, her Shield Charm was already on.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Several Binding Charm struck the Shield Charm simultaneously, producing dull impact sounds.
The barrier trembled violently.
The light flickered, but stubbornly remained unbroken.
The immense impact made Hermione's arms go numb, and her body involuntarily swayed backward, but she gritted her teeth and managed to steady herself.
Before the barrier is fully stable,
Hermione used the impact to turn to the side, then used her waist to propel her wand at a tricky angle, bypassing the edge of the barrier and aiming directly at the opening created by Draco's casting of the spell:
" Locomotor Mortis!"
Draco had anticipated this and, before Hermione could cast the spell, he had already taken evasive action.
The Leg-Locker Curse whistled past his ear, the air currents ruffling Draco's hair.
Draco rose gracefully, the spell finally striking the stone wall some distance behind him, exploding into a small patch of rubble and dust, most of its energy absorbed by the protective magic once again.
The two exchanged attacks and defenses with lightning speed, and the light and shadow of spells flickered and intertwined in the empty dueling arena.
The sounds of rushing air and impacts were incessant.
At first, the fight was surprisingly even, with both sides evenly matched, and it even resembled a duel between masters.
Hermione displayed magical skills, combat wisdom, and unwavering will far exceeding those of witches her age. Her spells flowed smoothly, her offensive and defensive transitions were decisive, and her timing was remarkably precise.
Draco, on the other hand, was more like an elegant dancer, gracefully navigating Hermione's dense spell attacks, each dodge perfectly timed and each counterattack concise and effective.
He was clearly controlling the pace, putting enough pressure on Hermione to unleash her full power without immediately ending the battle with overwhelming force.
But this illusion of "evenly matched" did not last long. In less than five minutes, Hermione realized something was wrong.
Draco's spells are fast, accurate, ruthless, tricky in angle, and perfectly timed, but... they're always just a little bit off.
The Stunning Spell that could have sealed off all her escape routes missed a hair's breadth, allowing her to dodge it with a clumsy but effective roll.
The Blasting Curse grazed the edge of her Shield Charm, leaving ripples on the barrier, but just barely missed breaking through.
It was definitely not a mistake!
It was not a deliberate act, but an incredibly precise one.
He could have easily rendered her incapable of fighting.
But Draco, at the last moment, deliberately held back, changed direction, and left an opening, a so-called "way out."
Like a skilled chess player who could easily checkmate an opponent, but deliberately makes a seemingly insignificant move, waiting for the opponent to "discover it themselves."
This feeling of being "given a break" was even more frustrating for Hermione than being directly crushed... The "all-out effort" she wanted was not this kind of "teaching session" that was full of pity and control!
"Bang!"
Another red light flashed, causing her to " Stupefy," which Hermione narrowly avoided by leaning back, almost losing her balance.
Staggering slightly, Hermione managed to steady herself, her chest heaving with heavy breathing. Instead of retaliating, she clutched her wand, turned her head away, and pouted angrily, saying, "I'm not fighting anymore."
Draco froze in mid-air, his hand poised to cast a spell. He looked at Hermione with some surprise and tentatively asked, "Tired?"
Hermione turned and stared intently at him. "You're holding back."
Draco put down his wand and tried to explain, "I just..."
"You promised me you'd use your full strength," Hermione interrupted him. "Do you think I'm so fragile I can't withstand your spells? Or do you think I'm only fit to spar with someone who's just going through the motions?"