William would have loved to bring Cho, Cedric, and the Weasley twins along to witness the spectacle.
Catching Tywin would be no small feat; it was a major accomplishment, one that would make waves across the wizarding world.
But Tywin was an adult wizard with not one, but three Time-Turners, and the Killing Curse was always just a flick of his wand away.
William, who had spent two years of intense training under Professor Flitwick, was confident he could handle Tywin alone.
With friends in tow, though, the situation would become unpredictable.
Not wanting to put his friends at risk, William decided to go alone.
As he left the common room, William glanced back at the eagle-shaped brass door knocker.
Pausing, he reached out to touch it one last time, wondering if he'd ever experience a time loop again.
Robert, however, was glaring daggers at William, as though touching the knocker meant defiling his "wife."
Robert had no real girlfriend, but many "wives"—whether in the form of the door knocker or paper cutouts.
William smirked, imagining Robert's face if he ever discovered that William had, in a sense, "taken his wife" with him and spent two whole years with her.
But he didn't pay Robert's glare any mind.
Two years in the time loop had worn away the sharper edges of William's personality. He turned and walked away, not looking back at the knocker.
Just as he was about to leave the corridor, he felt something cool against his palm.
Glancing down, he was startled to find that the ring he'd worn through the two-year loop—one he hadn't removed even once—was lying quietly in his hand.
Unable to help himself, he grinned. Rather than impulsively slipping it on again, he tucked it into his pocket.
The last thing he wanted was to be thrown right back into the loop after barely escaping. Either he or the ring would go mad first if that happened.
William resolved to find a chain to hang the ring around his neck. And if he could, he'd "borrow" it permanently, just as Ravenclaw herself once did in Egypt.
After all, he was a true Ravenclaw; it wouldn't do to abandon family traditions.
Just as he neared the end of the corridor, he heard a furious shout echo behind him.
Apparently, the knocker had disappeared right before Robert's eyes, and now he was scouring the floor in a panic.
Meanwhile, the true thief quickened his steps, heading straight for the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
It was still only 7:10; Tywin hadn't had the chance to use any of his Time-Turners yet.
William held a Defense Against the Dark Arts book in one hand, concealing his wand up his left sleeve. With an innocent smile on his face, he knocked lightly on the door.
After a brief pause, he heard the handle turn, and Tywin's wary face appeared. Seeing William, he quickly put on a friendly smile.
"William, what can I help you with so early in the day?"
"Professor, there's a spell I'm struggling with, and I was hoping for your guidance."
"But today is the Quidditch final…" Tywin hesitated.
"It'll only take a few minutes," William assured him. "If we can finish in ten minutes, I'll still catch the game."
"Hmm… What spell?"
"The Summoning Charm."
"But I thought that was for fourth years…"
"That's right, Professor, but you know," William said with a wink, "I have a bit of a knack for Charms. I'm just moving a bit ahead. Besides, I tend to lose track of my homework, and a Summoning Charm would be really useful."
"Ah, I imagine your classmates like borrowing from you when they need perfect answers," Tywin chuckled. "Come on in, then."
"Thank you." William smiled, following him inside and setting his book on the table as he assumed a focused expression.
Tywin, visibly more relaxed, began explaining the charm in detail.
After five minutes, Tywin leaned back, impressed. "William, your talent is remarkable. I've barely explained it, and you already have it down."
He paused, and then added, "The textbook can only teach you so much. Have you ever thought of learning some more… powerful magic?"
"Powerful magic?" William looked puzzled.
"You know, the kind of magic with a little more impact," Tywin said persuasively. "Textbook spells can fall short when dealing with Dark wizards or creatures, after all."
It was clear what Tywin was up to; he was trying to recruit a talented young wizard, hoping to lure him into the darkness, just as Voldemort had done once.
"Do you have any recommendations, Professor? Being a first-year from a Muggle family, my knowledge in this area is rather… limited," William replied, feigning curiosity and excitement.
"Of course. I have some personal notes here. You can take a look," Tywin said, turning to search the bookshelves.
Hidden under his voluminous robe, William's left hand tightened around his wand.
He had shown himself to be right-handed many times, but that didn't mean he couldn't cast with his left—a skill Flitwick had taught him.
"Stupefy!" William suddenly raised his wand, sending a Stunning Spell at Tywin without warning.
But on Tywin's shelf, a Foe-Glass suddenly spun into motion. Nearby, a golden Secrecy Sensor began to buzz urgently.
Boom!
The Stunning Spell crashed into the bookshelf, shattering it in half from the impact.
Thanks to the Foe-Glass and Secrecy Sensor, Tywin ducked just in time.
But the heavy shelf came down on his back, and he cried out as he rolled to the side, withdrawing his ebony wand despite the pain.
"Confringo!" Tywin's fiery spell shot towards William, missing him as he sidestepped just in time.
The spell shattered the office door and exploded in the hallway, setting it ablaze.
The explosion drew the attention of everyone nearby. Many students were already gathering for the Quidditch game, and now all eyes were on the castle.
"Whoa, it's like a Hollywood movie!" one Muggle-born student exclaimed.
Professor McGonagall sprang to her feet, snatching the microphone from Lee Jordan. "Everyone, stay where you are! I'll handle this!"
She then leaped off the commentator's platform and grabbed Oliver Wood, yanking him off his broom to commandeer it. In seconds, she was soaring towards the castle.
Zooming through the air with surprising agility, she couldn't help but mutter to herself, Why on earth are these old brooms so slow? The school really needs a fleet of new Nimbus 2000s.
Meanwhile, the battle raged on in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
William's wand slashed through the air, and books scattered across the floor transformed into spears, closing in on Tywin from all sides.
Tywin might have been a wizard, but his body was as vulnerable as any non-magical person's.
With the bookshelf having fallen on him, his back was injured, making it hard for him to dodge. He barely managed to cast, "Protego!"
William, with a sweeping motion of his wand, summoned the flames from the hallway, shaping them into a blazing replica of Fawkes that lunged straight at Tywin.
The fiery phoenix arched like a bridge.
"Glacius!" Tywin aimed his wand at the ground, sending a wave of frost that spread from his feet in every direction.
The flaming phoenix froze mid-flight, transformed into an icy statue.
Frost covered the entire office, and the temperature plummeted, freezing even the water in cups on Tywin's desk into solid blocks.
The icy floor crept toward William's feet.
"Carpe Retractum!" William cast, dodging the frost in a twirling move that allowed him to end up standing on the ceiling.
From its frozen maw, the phoenix began spewing fire.
The office shifted between searing heat and icy chill, creating billows of steam that enveloped everything in a dense fog.
Tywin was horrified. William's prowess was leagues beyond any ordinary student. Even many adult wizards couldn't wield such a sophisticated blend of techniques.
Tywin's back throbbed painfully, and he grimaced as he yelled, "Diffindo!"
The flaming phoenix exploded into shards, which reformed into a swarm of smaller firebirds that shot at him with dizzying speed.
Tywin gritted his teeth, trying to move, but couldn't escape the cage of spears surrounding him.
"Expelliarmus!" Tywin shouted—yet William had already cast the same spell.
The disarming spells collided in an explosion that sent shards of the bookshelf flying.
Tywin was flung into the air, skewered by the jagged splinters of wood, before slamming against the wall, blood trickling from beneath his hair.
He slumped down, unconscious.
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