The air in the underground corridor grew thick and suffocating.
The personal feud between Harry and Draco had now escalated into open conflict between two Houses, subtly pushed forward by Lucian's unseen manipulation.
As the stone door of the Slytherin common room opened, more and more upper-year students poured into the narrow corridor.
Green robes and red robes faced each other in clear opposition.
"Isn't that Mr. Wood?"
Marcus shoved his way through the Slytherin crowd.
He looked like a troll, grinning with a mouth full of crooked teeth. His thick wand pointed rudely at the Gryffindor Quidditch captain's nose.
"What are you doing here with this pack of brats? Planning to surrender early?"
"Shut your filthy mouth, Flint!"
Oliver did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward until their noses were nearly touching.
"I'm here to teach you how to behave! If you hadn't cowardly smashed Alicia's broom tail from behind last term, you'd already be crawling back into the sewer!"
"That was a perfectly legal collision tactic!" Slytherin Beater Bole roared while waving his muscular arms. "Only weaklings like you cry to the referee!"
"Legal collision? Ha! What about two years ago? Who put glue on my broom?" Lee pushed forward, his wand still spitting sparks.
"And the year before that, you lot released a nest of Cornish Pixies in our locker room!"
Wands on both sides began to glow with dangerous light.
Amid the rising tension, Draco slowly regained his arrogance.
Only minutes ago, he had been facing dozens of furious Gryffindors and nearly pressed himself into the wall in fear.
But now, with a wall of older Slytherin students standing in front of him and Marcus' massive back shielding him, his fear faded.
What replaced it was humiliation and cruelty, multiplied.
"What's wrong, Potter?"
Draco leaned out from behind Marcus, wearing his usual infuriating smirk.
"You looked pretty confident earlier. Is this Gryffindor's idea of courage? Charging in like savages and then standing there like cowards?"
"Malfoy!" Ron shouted, his face purple with rage. He tried to rush forward but Fred held him back firmly.
"Let him come, Weasley!" Draco sneered. "Let's see whether your second-hand wand is stronger than my—"
"Everyone stop!"
A furious voice cut through the chaos from the far end of the corridor.
Percy ran in, his prefect badge polished to a shine. He was breathing heavily after rushing here.
Behind him came Hermione, equally anxious.
The confrontation between two Houses had grown too large to hide. Someone had already spread the word.
The moment Hermione heard Harry and Ron were in trouble, she followed immediately. "What are you all doing? This is a serious violation of school rules!"
Percy waved his arms while trying to wedge himself between the two groups. "I'm a prefect! I order everyone to disperse immediately! Otherwise I will—"
"Or you'll what? Run crying to your mother, Weasley?" someone from the Slytherin side mocked.
The Slytherins burst into laughter.
Percy's ears turned red.
Hermione ignored them completely.
She immediately spotted Harry and Ron near the front, and behind them Neville, whose face was still wet with tears.
"Harry! Ron! Put your wands down!"
Hermione rushed forward. Her hair was messy from running, but her presence was still commanding.
She grabbed Harry's raised arm and forced it downward.
"Have you both gone mad? If you duel in the corridor, Gryffindor will lose all its points! We could even be expelled!"
"He started it!" Harry struggled, his eyes bloodshot. "He cast the Leg-Locker Curse on Neville and humiliated him!"
"Then we report it to Professor McGonagall! Not fight like... like savages in the corridor!"
Hermione stepped forward and spread her arms between the two groups. Facing the much taller Slytherins, her voice trembled slightly but remained logical.
"Calm down. If you fight now and Professor Snape arrives, none of you will escape punishment. I mean... this benefits no one."
For a brief moment, the tension eased.
Her words were like a bucket of cold water. Even Flint frowned slightly as if considering the consequences.
Hermione sighed quietly in relief when the situation seemed to settle. But she forgot that some people did not want reason.
They wanted a stage.
Draco stared at the girl who had suddenly taken control.
Her again.
The girl who always outperformed everyone in Charms class, who raised her hand first in Transfiguration, who despite her low birth constantly overshadowed him.
And now she dared to lecture him like a professor?
Especially now, when Draco had just recovered from fear and desperately needed to prove his authority again.
"What a touching scene," Draco said slowly as he stepped forward.
He stopped directly in front of Hermione. His eyes were filled with malice.
"Since you enjoy interfering so much..."
He leaned closer and spoke quietly enough that only the people in the front could hear. "No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."
The words fell like poison.
Hermione froze.
The insult struck deeper than any spell.
It was not just an attack on her. It denied her birth, her parents, her very existence.
"How dare you!"
The roar came from Ron.
Ron's restraint snapped instantly. As a member of a pure-blood family, he understood that word better than anyone.
He gripped his worn ash wand tightly.
The wand had lost its shine long ago, and a piece of pale unicorn hair even protruded from its worn end.
Yet at that moment, the wand responded to his overwhelming rage.
Ron followed pure instinct, pointing the battered wand directly at Draco's pale face.
"You disgusting—get away from her!"
°Flipendo°
Red sparks burst through the corridor with a loud crack.
The spell did not hit anyone.
But the fragile thread holding the situation together finally snapped.
"Get them!"
No one knew who shouted first.
But the reckless Gryffindor cry ignited the corridor.
The first attack came from Harry. In that moment, the Savior did not cast any complex spell.
His anger moved faster than his thoughts. The dungbomb in his hand flew through the air.
Smack.
The throw was incredibly accurate.
The dungbomb exploded directly on Draco's face before he could remove his mocking smile.
Yellow-green sludge covered his eyes, nose, and mouth.
"Ah! My eyes! My eyes!"
Draco screamed like a slaughtered pig. He stumbled backward and crashed into Goyle's stomach. His wand flailed wildly, accidentally sending a red spark that hit Pansy, making her shriek.
"Attack!"
As Gryffindor Beaters, Fred and George demonstrated remarkable brawling instincts. They did not waste time casting spells.
Instead, they reached into their robes.
Their arsenal.
"Move aside! Weasley fireworks coming through!"
Dozens of colorful fireworks were thrown into the Slytherin crowd.
Blue fire dragons slithered across the floor, snapping at the ankles of Slytherin girls. Crackers crawled into the robes of older students and exploded with sharp bangs.
"You damned Weasleys! I'll kill you!"
Marcus roared as he charged forward through the sparks like a charging troll.
°Petrificus Totalus° °Reducto°
A purple spell shot past Harry's head and smashed into a suit of armor behind him.
The ancient armor exploded into fragments with a loud crash. Metal shards flew everywhere, cutting several younger students.
"Flint!"
Oliver's eyes turned red with fury.
Even without a broom, he was still a Quidditch Keeper. He lunged forward and slammed his shoulder into Marcus' chest.
The two crashed together and began punching, elbowing, and kneeing each other.
°Expelliarmus°
°Rictusempra°
°Locomotor Mortis°
Multicolored spells flew through the cramped corridor, bouncing off walls or colliding midair with showers of sparks.
Amid the flashing lights, Harry felt a strange thrill.
This was raw anger unleashed.
He dodged a yellow beam and cast Locomotor Mortis at Crabbe. The large boy collapsed stiffly, knocking down several Slytherins behind him.
Harry even felt a flicker of satisfaction.
"Release the big one!"
In the chaos, Lee jumped onto a stone pedestal. As the Quidditch commentator, his voice was incredibly loud.
He held up a small box and shouted.
"A gift for you snakes!"
With a flick of his wand, his treasured tarantula leapt out.
°Engorgio°
The spider expanded to the size of a basin.
Its eight black eyes gleamed as it scurried along the ceiling toward the Slytherin torches.
"A spider! It's huge!"
"Ah! It's above my head! Get it away!"
Several younger Slytherins panicked instantly, breaking their formation.
"Don't retreat! No one retreats!" Marcus roared while still fighting Wood. "That's just an illusion! Burn it with fire spells!"
But panic spread among the younger Slytherins.
Gryffindor was not doing well either. The older Slytherins recovered quickly and began attacking from the shadows.
Hermione was still trying desperately to stop the chaos.
She spread her arms. "Stop! You can't... this is against the rules! Please stop—"
°Densaugeo°
A pale yellow beam shot over Neville's head and struck Hermione directly.
She screamed and covered her mouth.
Her front teeth began growing rapidly. Within seconds they extended past her lower lip and nearly reached her chin.
The sight was both ridiculous and terrifying.
"Hermione!"
Harry saw it.
At that moment, rage completely drowned out fear.
This was Slytherin.
This was the so-called superiority of pure blood. A group of cowards who hid behind others and insulted girls and the weak.
"I'll kill you!"
Harry charged forward, aiming his wand at the sixth-year Slytherin who had cast the spell.
Meanwhile Percy was experiencing the worst moment of his life.
"If none of you will listen..." Percy shouted angrily while trying to restrain the worst offenders with binding spells.
No one paid attention to him.
In the chaos, a Devil's Snare seed thrown by a Slytherin sprouted beneath his feet. Vines wrapped around his ankles instantly.
Percy yelped and fell face-first onto the marble floor.
His polished prefect badge struck the ground with a sharp clink before rolling into the corner.
"A prefect?" someone mocked from the Slytherin side.
"Hang him from the lamp!"
"Back off!" George kicked away a Slytherin trying to approach Percy. "Only we're allowed to bully Percy! You snakes aren't worthy!"
The scene had completely spiraled out of control.
Portraits on the walls covered their ears and fled their frames. Suits of armor collapsed under stray spells. The air filled with the stench of dungbombs and sulfur from fireworks.
Faces twisted under the flashing lights of spells.
Gryffindor fought like enraged lions. Unorganized but unstoppable.
Slytherin fought like cornered snakes. Cruel and precise.
Neville huddled in a corner.
He was terrified.
He saw Harry shouting, Hermione crying with oversized teeth, Ron rolling on the ground.
Then something ignited inside his clumsy body.
Courage.
"Don't... hurt them!"
Neville closed his eyes and charged forward wildly with his wand.
He did not even cast a spell. But his solid body accidentally slammed into Crabbe, knocking the large boy off balance.
...
In a dark corner beyond the reach of the torches, Lucian stood hidden beneath a Disillusionment Charm.
As the one who had orchestrated everything, he watched the chaotic battlefield below with cold amusement.
"Disgusting."
A full-scale House battle was far more entertaining than the small duel in the original story.
But just as he watched Neville accidentally knock Crabbe aside, a strange chill crawled down his spine.
"Damn it—"
Lucian instinctively tried to raise a Shield Charm.
Too late.
At the center of the battle, two stray spells collided midair. One from an older Slytherin, Reducto. The other from a Gryffindor, Bombarda.
The combined force slammed toward Lucian.
A dull impact followed.
Pain exploded through his left shoulder.
His protective barrier shattered instantly. The remaining energy tore open his shoulder.
Blood soaked through his black robes.
Lucian's figure wavered in the shadows and nearly fell before regaining balance and repairing the failing Disillusionment Charm.
He looked down at the wound.
The cut was deep enough to expose bone. Blood dripped onto the stone floor.
For once, Lucian's usually calm and amused expression disappeared. Only silent disbelief remained.
He had been watching the chaos from the sidelines... And got hit by a stray spell from a bunch of children.
Of course.
The curse of misfortune was clearly still clinging to him.
"...Fine. Very well."
Lucian narrowed his eyes.
The feeling of being struck by fate itself annoyed him greatly.
It was like designing an arena for gladiators, only to have an axe fly into the spectator stands and smash your own head.
"If I'm bleeding because of this..." Lucian's voice was soft. "...then I won't let it go to waste."
Lucian had never been the type to suffer a loss quietly. If fate insisted on tying him to this chaos...
Then he might as well stir the waters even darker.
__________
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