Unlike the detached indifference of the first-years, most of the hidden prefects wore grim expressions tinged with anger. Even the red-haired girl, who had previously admired Augustus's talent, now felt indignant. This arrogant upstart needed to be taught a lesson! Frustrated, she punched the air in vexation.
"Beat Cook first before making such grand claims. If you can't even get past him, you should stop talking big," Goring remarked. Though mindful of Augustus's lineage, he kept his tone calm, offering only a simple reminder.
Cook, however, found himself in an awkward position. Like a jester shoved onto the stage, it felt as though his abilities had already been dismissed, suggesting he needed backup just to maintain his dignity. For the proud Cook, this was more humiliating than outright defeat. Barely containing his fury, he spat through gritted teeth, "Kid, are you ready?"
"Begin," Augustus replied curtly, signaling Goring to proceed.
"Alright, one, two, three! Start!" For the first time, Goring sounded eager to announce the start of a duel, seemingly hoping Cook could quickly put Augustus in his place and restore the prefects' authority.
"Stupefy!" A flash of red light shot from Cook's wand, swift and precise. But to his dismay, the spell struck an invisible barrier in front of Augustus, rippling like water. A Shield Charm? And silent casting, too? Cook couldn't help but feel envious of the inherent speed of silent spellwork.
"Protego!" Noticing Augustus still standing motionless, Cook hastily cast a protective spell on himself. Though unsure of what defensive magic Augustus had used, Cook resolved to break through it with his next spell.
"Confringo!" A greenish-blue light streaked toward Augustus, only to miss as his figure vanished and reappeared elsewhere.
"What? Apparition? No, that's impossible—Apparating isn't allowed in Hogwarts. Then what was that?" Cook wasn't the only one stunned. Even the other prefects were rattled by Augustus's mysterious maneuver. Unlike silent casting, this apparent instant movement was entirely beyond their comprehension.
As Cook unleashed a series of attack spells, each was either absorbed by Augustus's barrier or evaded through his rapid relocations. Watching Augustus remain calmly smiling in the center of the arena, the prefects grew uneasy. Thus far, he had deflected or dodged seven offensive spells and absorbed five more with his shield—all without actively striking back. How much magical power did he have?
Sweat began to bead on Cook's brow, whether from stress or exhaustion. Tightening his grip on his wand, he realized he couldn't win through attrition. If he kept wasting energy, the bottomless well of Augustus's magic would outlast him. He needed a decisive blow.
"Have you reached your limit?" Augustus asked, his tone tinged with mild disappointment. "If this is all you can do, I must say I'm deeply let down by Slytherin's so-called fourth-year dueling champion. Your feeble efforts are no longer worth my time. Now, I'll attack. I hope you can make this interesting."
With a casual flick of his silver wand, a massive, blazing fireball materialized in midair. Augustus's black robes billowed around him as if stirred by an unseen wind, and his silver eyes glowed as if filled with flame. The fireball shot toward Cook with astonishing speed.
"Protego Maxima!" Realizing his Shield Charm alone wouldn't suffice, Cook quickly cast a more powerful barrier. His instincts proved correct. The fireball neutralized the barrier and struck his Shield Charm, finally dissipating. The force, however, sent Cook sprawling to the edge of the dueling ring.
Before Cook could recover, Augustus raised his wand again. This time, dozens of fireballs of varying sizes appeared behind him, filling the air with intense heat. The sheer number and power of the blazing orbs left the room tinged red with reflected light.
Cook swallowed hard, staring at the fiery onslaught in terror. His once-arrogant demeanor crumbled, replaced by the stark realization of his insignificance. These spells were not only beyond his power to counter but could easily incinerate him if they struck. For the first time, he felt genuine fear of death.
"I yield!" Cook shouted, closing his eyes to avoid meeting the gaze of those around him. But there was no mockery in the crowd. Everyone else was just as stunned by the fiery spectacle, their expressions frozen in awe.
With a snap of his fingers, Augustus dismissed the flames. "Very well. Cook has lost," Goring announced, though his voice was shaky. His usual composure wavered as he turned toward the other hidden prefects. None of them seemed eager to meet his eyes.
"This duel far exceeded anything we've encountered before," Goring thought to himself. Can he really challenge all eleven of us? The memory of the burning orbs lingered in everyone's minds, a harrowing image that made even the prefects pale.
"It's getting late. Let's end things here," Augustus said, breaking the tense silence and leaving Goring visibly relieved.
"Alright! The selection for the hidden prefect of the first-year boys is over. The position will be filled by Augustus!" Goring declared, to the cheers of the first-years. To them, having such a strong leader felt like a blessing.
The selection for the girls' prefect was far less dramatic, with a student named Lilian Alixia, apparently from a noble family, securing the position without much challenge.
As everyone returned to their dormitories, the events of the day left a deep impression. For many, the image of Augustus standing amidst those blazing fireballs would remain etched in their minds for a long time.
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