The gale swept the burning gravel through the air, reaching Snape in an instant.
And mixed within it was a golden chain.
Snape recognized the spell immediately.
Impedimenta—the classic Binding Charm. Not used to halt a spell, but to restrain a wizard.
First, Kai Adler had summoned a hurricane-level wind to throw him off balance, embedded it with transfigured gravel for a physical assault, and then layered in a binding charm to trap his movements.
All calculated. All precise.
A flicker of genuine appreciation passed through Snape's eyes.
The young man before him wasn't just a talented spellcaster—his battle instincts were honed, sharp. He understood pacing, pressure, timing.
Not like the other over-praised students at this school.
This one wasn't a hothouse flower.
He was dangerous.
And unlike James Potter's son, he didn't posture. He executed.
Snape's body shifted slightly under the force of the gale. But with a casual flick of his wand, the dueling stage beneath him twisted with a creak of ancient magic—boards rippled, lifted, and formed a shield-like wooden wall before him.
Thud. Crack. Crack-crack-crack!
The stone gravel hammered against the wooden barrier. The wall rattled with the impact, riddled with holes and smoking at the seams, but it held.
Snape stood untouched behind it.
Then, with one more silent flick, he dispelled the golden chain spell as if brushing aside cobwebs.
Kai's brows rose.
Silent Transfiguration? In a duel against a student?
Isn't that cheating, Professor?
But the amusement in his expression was unmistakable.
You're not the only one who can play that game.
After all, since mastering the core spells of multiple disciplines, Kai had longed for a proper duel. Not one-sided sparring with the weaklings in his year. And not facing monsters like Dumbledore or Grindelwald, whose magic was far beyond his reach.
But this?
Snape—wary, calculating, and unafraid—was the first worthy opponent he'd had in this lifetime.
He raised his wand again, magic crackling at the tip.
And then—his face paled.
His body locked up, a tremor running down his spine.
Not now.
Damn it, not now.
At the same moment, the wooden wall before him slowly sank back into the floor.
Snape was watching, clearly preparing to speak, perhaps even to concede.
But Kai, beads of sweat now clinging to his temples, cut him off.
"Professor, thank you for the duel," he said quickly, voice tight with strain. "But I'm afraid it has to be interrupted. Professor Dumbledore requires me—urgently."
Without waiting for a response, he gave a swift, shallow bow, turned, and strode off the stage.
The hall watched in silence as he pushed open the heavy oak doors and disappeared into the corridor beyond.
Hermione's eyes widened in concern. She called out involuntarily, "Kai? What's wrong?!"
The retreating figure paused for a brief moment… but didn't turn around.
He vanished without a word.
Hermione bit her lip, her face filled with worry.
Snape remained still, watching the door close behind the boy.
He had been moments away from acknowledging the boy's victory.
To force a professor—him—into using silent spells, in front of the entire school… that was no small feat.
And yet the boy had walked away, brushing aside the outcome, using Dumbledore's name as a convenient excuse.
Snape's lips tightened.
Arrogant.
Does he think he can just leave a duel like this?
The students whispered among themselves in confusion and disappointment. That duel had been thrilling. No one expected a second-year to hold his own against Snape, much less match him blow for blow.
And now?
He simply ran?
Some students began speculating aloud:
"Did he surrender?"
"But why? He wasn't losing…"
"Maybe Snape did something shady. You know how good he is with potions…"
The Gryffindors cast increasingly suspicious glances toward Snape. In their minds, a Slytherin Professor using underhanded tactics wasn't exactly unheard of.
Snape's expression darkened further.
Then came the cheers from Slytherin House.
"I told you! As if a second-year could beat our Head of House!"
"He was getting crushed and ran off!"
"Arrogant Gryffindor brat."
The temple vein on Snape's forehead twitched violently.
Because despite the noise and the cheering—
He had lost.
At least by his own standards.
He had been outmaneuvered, pushed back, and forced to reveal more skill than he would ever normally show in front of students.
But Kai had refused to accept the win.
Now, acknowledging his defeat would only humiliate himself publicly—while Kai had already vanished.
He couldn't even reward the boy's skill without it sounding hollow.
"Silence," Snape growled at the cheering Slytherins.
"Is it something to celebrate when a professor defeats a student?"
His House fell deathly quiet.
Snape clenched his jaw, turned, and stepped off the stage without another word.
He would not announce a victor.
Lockhart, who had watched the duel in stunned awe (and no small amount of terror), hurried forward with an awkward smile.
"Ah—thank you, Professor Snape, for that, er, marvelous display! Quite the, um… intensity!"
He clapped his hands and raised his wand.
"Well! Time to break you all into pairs! Let's get started with some—safe—practice duels!"
But the excitement in the room had already drained.
The real show had left the hall.
Meanwhile—
Kai Adler was staggering up the grand staircases toward the eighth floor, teeth clenched, cold sweat dripping down his face.
The Obscurus was stirring violently within him.
It clawed at his core, its rage boiling over, seeking an outlet—anything to destroy.
He gritted his teeth, focusing all his magic inward, forcing the darkness down.
Black mist was already curling around his arms and legs.
He leaned against a stone wall—his palm print left behind a mark of rot and decay, the stone blackened and cracked where he touched it.
Every step felt like dragging chains through his chest.
He reached the long corridor of the eighth floor, the carpet beneath him rippling with the force of barely-contained magic. The pain was unbearable.
And then a figure appeared.
Tall, cloaked in twilight-purple robes. Watching with calm but pained eyes.
"Nothing escapes your notice, does it… Dumbledore," Kai muttered, voice ragged.
The Headmaster nodded solemnly, stepping closer.
"Is it always this painful?" he asked softly.
Kai gave a strained, bitter smile.
"More or less. It wasn't this bad when I was weaker. But it's grown with me. As my magic expands, so does… it."
He looked up, his face pale and drawn, sweat shining along his jawline.
"Are you going to just watch me collapse here… or open the door?"
Dumbledore raised his wand silently, and the stretch of wall before them melted into a doorway—the Room of Requirement awaiting on the other side.
The Obscurus roared inside Kai's chest, pressing against his ribs like a living, howling storm.
But he didn't let go.
Not yet.