Pansy’s proposal made all the followers gathered around Draco light up with excitent.
Though Draco didn’t consider it a high priority—just a possible idea—it was clear that to followers like Goyle, it carried great significance. It could define their position, their shared goals, and strengthen their unity. The benefits clearly outweighed the drawbacks; there was no reason to oppose it.
Before Pansy ntioned it, no one had taken the matter seriously. But once she did, it felt like the first step toward sothing new—sothing they should have done long ago...
On the way back, even before they reached the castle, Pansy and the others were already eagerly discussing how to plan and perfect it. Even Astoria, standing nearby, seed intrigued and made no move to leave or distance herself. To an outsider, it might have looked as if she had already joined Draco’s camp.
Fortunately, Pansy and the rest knew this wasn’t sothing that could be achieved overnight. So when they returned to the Slytherin common room, they set it aside for now and turned their attention to Crabbe.
There was one question that, if left unanswered, Pansy knew would keep her awake all night.
“Talk. What went wrong on your end? You didn’t just get careless, did you?”
“How should I put it... I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Crabbe scratched his head, looking completely lost. His slow, clumsy deanor was enough to make anyone watching impatient. But no one was really surprised—that was just Crabbe.
Knowing that Crabbe had trouble expressing himself, Draco stepped in to explain what he had seen—or more accurately, Ron Weasley’s unexpectedly impressive performance.
“Crabbe wasn’t careless. In fact, just like Goyle, he showed the results of his special training right from the start of the duel.”
“Like Goyle? You an that stupid Weasley is as strong as Potter?”
“To be precise, stronger than Potter. Don’t forget, he defeated Crabbe before Potter did. That says enough.”
As Pansy spoke in disbelief, Astoria gave a quiet, offhanded reminder from the side. Pansy gave a small, annoyed snort—she didn’t need to be reminded.
After a pause, she turned to Draco, frowning slightly.
“So? What exactly did you see?”
Draco closed his eyes for a mont, recalling the scene...
For a wizard to beco stronger in a short ti, aside from touching upon forbidden dark magic with dangerous side effects, it would require an innate, extraordinary talent—like Draco’s.
But such talent was sothing that appeared only once in a thousand years.
Simply put, under normal circumstances, there were no shortcuts to becoming a powerful wizard.
Whether it’s mastering spells, accumulating power, developing one’s affinity for magic, or gaining combat experience—these all take ti to build up, layer upon layer, until quantity transforms into quality.
Even for gifted wizards, talent only shortens the path a little compared to others. The process of persistence and effort cannot be ignored.
The reason Ron Weasley caught Draco’s attention was because he seed to have broken that very rule...
Draco could sense that Ron Weasley’s magic hadn’t grown to a terrifying degree. It was even slightly inferior to Harry Potter’s. The spells he used were all basic ones any wizard could learn.
Yet this seemingly ordinary Ron Weasley had managed to defeat his opponent before anyone noticed—and even earlier than Harry Potter.
It happened when Ron Weasley revealed his hidden trump card.
“Combat technique.”
“Huh? Combat... technique?”
“Weasley seems to have mastered a casting thod that ordinary wizards can’t even touch.”
“You an...”
While Goyle and the others wore confused expressions, Pansy and Astoria exchanged startled looks. Their eyes turned to Draco in disbelief, as if they couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.
“That’s impossible! Even if the Weasleys are one of the 28 Pureblood Houses, their family’s inheritance has long been lost.”
“And... if I rember correctly, the Weasley legacy never involved spellcasting techniques.”
The mont Pansy voiced her doubt, Astoria added what she knew. In other words, neither of them believed Draco was right—or perhaps, they thought he had misunderstood sothing.
Their puzzling words left Goyle and the others glancing between the three in confusion. A few of the followers said nothing at all, quietly edging back and pretending they hadn’t heard a thing.
The inheritance of the 28 Pureblood Houses was not a topic to be spoken of lightly...
In response to Pansy and Astoria’s doubts, Draco simply asked one question.
“Then tell —who among you can perform dual-wield casting?”
“......”
“.....”
The room fell silent. Stunned gazes and open mouths replaced any words. Had that not co from Draco himself, they would have thought it was a joke.
For most wizards, nonverbal casting was already a challenge. But two-handed casting—the very idea was unheard of. In fact, if Draco hadn’t ntioned it, most present wouldn’t even have known such a technique existed.
Those born into wizarding families understood well that if such a thod wasn’t simply too difficult to be widely known, then it must have co from the treasured inheritance of so ancient wizarding bloodline.
In short, it was not sothing that should have appeared in the Weasleys—a family that had all but forgotten they were once among the 28 Pureblood Houses.
However, what Draco didn’t say was that he had once seen a wizard use that very thod of casting...
Reviews
All reviews (0)