Ezekiel sat in the dimly lit chamber beneath Ravenclaw Tower, the soft glow of enchanted torches reflecting off the ancient tomes surrounding him. He flipped through another weathered page, eyes scanning the intricate runes detailing lost magical techniques.
Rowena Ravenclaw's teachings were unlike anything found in modern spellbooks. Magic wasn't just about incantations and wands—it was about intent, control, and the ability to shape reality through sheer will.
"Concentration is key," Rowena's spectral form instructed, hovering nearby. "Your affinity for ice is not just elemental—it is an extension of your emotions. Master them, and you will master your gift."
Ezekiel closed his eyes, focusing on the cold thrumming within his core. He extended his hand, channeling his magic not just to create ice, but to shape it with precision. A moment later, a flawless crystalline blade formed in his grasp, cold vapor rising from its edges.
Elena, who had been watching from a distance, let out a low whistle. "That's… impressive."
Adrian leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "More than that. If he keeps this up, he'll have an advantage over nearly anyone in a duel."
Ezekiel smirked but said nothing. He knew that his abilities were growing beyond conventional magic—and with that, the risks were growing as well.
---
As the weeks passed, Ezekiel's presence in wizarding politics became more pronounced. His last visit home had solidified his family's influence, and whispers about the young Lord Ravenclaw were now circulating beyond Hogwarts.
One evening, as he studied in the common room, an owl landed beside him with a letter sealed with the sigil of the Greengrass family.
Breaking the wax, he read the elegant script inside:
"We should speak soon. The tides are shifting, and not all currents are friendly."
— Cyrus Greengrass
Ezekiel tapped his fingers against the parchment. Cyrus Greengrass wasn't a man who wasted words. If he was reaching out, it meant something significant was happening in the political sphere.
"More noble politics?" Elena asked, peering at the letter.
"Something like that," Ezekiel muttered. He folded the note and tucked it away. He would need to prepare.
---
The following week, Ezekiel was heading back from the library when he sensed it—a shift in the air, a presence lurking nearby.
He turned a corner, only to come face to face with Adrian Pucey.
"Malverne," Pucey sneered, his wand already drawn.
Ezekiel's expression remained impassive. "Pucey."
"You think you can just rise to the top without a challenge?" Pucey spat. "You're just a first-year, yet people whisper your name like you're some sort of prodigy."
Ezekiel tilted his head. "Jealousy doesn't suit you."
Pucey's eyes flashed. "Duel me."
A beat of silence. Then, Ezekiel sighed. "If that's what you want."
They moved to an empty corridor, ensuring no professors were around. With a flick of their wands, the duel began.
Pucey was aggressive, launching spells with speed and precision, but Ezekiel was calm, his movements effortless. He dodged, deflected, and countered with ice magic woven into his spells.
A blast of frost surged forward, catching Pucey off guard and encasing his wand hand in ice.
Pucey gritted his teeth but refused to yield. He charged forward—only for Ezekiel to sidestep and freeze the floor beneath him.
With a startled yelp, Pucey lost his footing and hit the ground hard. His wand skidded away, and for a moment, silence reigned.
Ezekiel walked up slowly, crouching beside him. "You're talented, Pucey," he said. "But you rely too much on brute force. Work on that."
Then, with a flick of his wand, he shattered the ice holding Pucey's hand.
Pucey sat up, glowering but saying nothing. Ezekiel offered a small, knowing smirk before walking away.
---
Back in the Ravenclaw dormitory, Ezekiel leaned back in his chair, mind racing. His duel with Pucey had only solidified what he already knew—his reputation was growing, and with it, the number of those who wanted to challenge him.
He wasn't just another student at Hogwarts.
He was a Lord, a rising figure in the wizarding world, and a force to be reckoned with.
And whether the world was ready for him or not, he would carve his own path.
---