Inside the Great Hall.
"Are you ready?"
A soft voice jolted Malfoy awake. Ready?
Malfoy looked around. Students from all houses filled the space, though Slytherin and Gryffindor dominated the crowd. The Slytherins were there thanks to Crabbe and Goyle's newfound status, and Gryffindors lived for excitement, especially when it involved watching Slytherins get humbled.
Malfoy watched as Leonard raised his wand level and offered a slight bow. It was the traditional courtesy before a wizard's duel. Malfoy instinctively mirrored the gesture.
Then something felt wrong.
The moment Malfoy completed the salute, the duel would begin.
Fear and awareness crashed through him simultaneously. In that instant, everything else fell away: family honor, reputation, face. It was as if a voice carried through his bloodline itself, suddenly consuming his thoughts.
Submit to the strong.
"I surrender!"
The words barely left Malfoy's mouth when a sea of crimson flames erupted from Leonard's wand. Golden threads shimmered through the scarlet inferno, spiraling upward and consuming the Great Hall's transparent ceiling entirely. The chamber became a blazing ocean of fire.
Everyone's eyes snapped upward in awe. Only when the brightness burned their vision and tears began streaming did they lower their heads.
Well, the effect was decent enough, Leo thought, observing their stunned faces.
The spell had been modeled after Liuguang's purifying fire, refined through improved combustion techniques and layered with methods from the Weasley family's notes. An instantaneous magical burst designed purely for impact.
With a light wave of his wand, the fiery ocean vanished.
Along with it went the floating jack-o'-lanterns, bats, and clouds that had decorated the space.
Oops. That took away all the holiday atmosphere.
Leo reached for his green gourd and tilted it downward. Pumpkins, tomatoes, and potatoes spilled out, covering the floor. A few wand flicks, and they transformed into various types of lanterns—mostly jack-o'-lanterns—before settling in place.
He returned the green gourd and switched to a pink one. He tilted this one down as well, and candies and snacks rained from the opening. Before they hit the ground, they transformed into little bats of various colors, their surfaces displaying corresponding food patterns.
"Alright, please continue," Leo said, glancing at Malfoy before turning to leave.
Truthfully, Malfoy's quick surrender wasn't unexpected. The boy had witnessed Leo defeat the troll the night before, yet he'd shown up anyway instead of backing out. For a first-year student who has already demonstrated some backbone.
From Malfoy's performance, though, he was clearly terrified. If he'd actually challenged Leonard directly, the Sorting Hat should have placed him in Gryffindor instead.
Subduing your enemy without a real fight sounded impressive in theory, but the execution felt hollow. Without Malfoy spending two weeks in the hospital wing, something felt incomplete.
Still, the kid's surrender had been instant. No hesitation whatsoever.
So this is Malfoy. Truly the most flexible weathervane.
A ball of brilliant red flame materialized beside Leo. He'd grown accustomed to this scene.
Phoenix Fawkes emerged from the flames in the next heartbeat. Leo extended his arm, and the phoenix perched gracefully. After Fawkes ruffled his slightly disheveled hair, the bird wrapped itself in flames.
One person and one bird vanished directly from the Great Hall.
"Wow, what was that big bird just now?" someone exclaimed.
"It actually carried someone away!"
Younger students couldn't help but shout.
"That was Headmaster Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes," an older student explained. "Sometimes he acts as a messenger to fetch people."
"By the way, wasn't that the first year that took the longest during the Sorting Ceremony?" someone asked. "What was his name?"
"Let me think... Leonard. Leonard Grafton!"
Once someone named him, excitement rippled through the crowd.
"Right! Isn't he a first-year? What kind of spell created those flames?"
"Probably an illusion charm," another student suggested. "A first-year couldn't possibly cast something that powerful."
"Brother, go see Madam Pomfrey about your eyes," someone else said. "Didn't you see the original pumpkins and bats burned to ash?"
"Wow, these little bats can be eaten!"
A rosy-cheeked girl with two golden braids spoke up, holding a small white bat in her hand. Its left wing had already transformed into marshmallows. Hannah Abbott popped one into her mouth, her face beaming.
Seeing this, Neville caught a green bat of his own.
"Apple candy!" he announced proudly.
The young wizards threw themselves into the fun, racing to catch bats and discover what treats each one contained.
But some people couldn't enjoy any of it.
Malfoy slipped toward the edge of the Great Hall, unwilling to stay.
"Malfoy, Quidditch requires courage," Flint called after him. "A coward who surrenders immediately isn't suitable for my team."
Draco's shoulders trembled. Tears blurred his vision as he looked at the Slytherin Captain, then turned and walked away.
He wandered aimlessly through the castle, his thoughts churning. People like Flint are all fools. Can't they see Leo's strength? No one understands. No one understands his power!
Draco didn't know how to explain to others how terrifying and bizarre the creature Leo had casually created last night had been. In that moment, watching the spell erupt, he'd seen it again—proof of his power.
A group as foolish and short-sighted as Flint had actually looked at him with mocking, disdainful expressions.
The next moment, his face paled even further.
Being embarrassed was one thing. But bringing shame to the Malfoy family's honor—that was something else entirely.
Father will know about this soon. What will I do?
Malfoy didn't know how his father would scold him, or whether he'd be punished. He could only dread what awaited him.
In the Headmaster's office.
Leonard saw Dumbledore smiling warmly at him, with Professor McGonagall seated nearby.
"Happy Halloween, Leonard."
"Happy Halloween, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall."