The last class before the Christmas holidays ended in the usual scrape of stools and rustle of parchnt. Laughter and hurried voices filled the room as students packed up, eager to be done for the day.
Gilderoy stayed where he was, unhurried. He gathered his notes with deliberate care, aligning parchnt edges.
He was halfway through reorganizing his notes when felt soone stop beside his desk.
"Mr. Lockhart."
Gilderoy looked up.
Professor Flitwick stood there, hands folded behind his back, spectacles glinting as if chard. Despite his size, there was sothing immovable about the man when he chose to be serious.
"Yes, Professor?" Gilderoy straightened.
Flitwick leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp. "Your performance during your last dueling session was… remarkable."
Gilderoy blinked. "Ah. Thank you, sir."
"That wasn't praise for politeness' sake," Flitwick continued. "I told you the sa that day. Your footwork, timing, spell chaining, and adaptability are well beyond the expected standard. Which brings to my question."
Flitwick paused deliberately.
"Have you considered the Under-21 Dueling World Championship?"
The words hit him like a misplaced Stunning Spell.
"The—" Gilderoy froze. "The world championship?"
A flicker of nervous heat ran through his chest. He forced a laugh, short and uncertain. "Professor, I've only been dueling seriously for a few months. I—I don't think I'm ready."
This isn't so random ass school tournant. This is international. Professionals. People who've trained since they held a wand.
Flitwick's lips twitched.
"Well, too bad," he said lightly.
Gilderoy frowned. "Too… bad?"
"I've already entered your na," Flitwick said, entirely unapologetic. "Your registration was accepted this morning."
Gilderoy stared at him.
Flitwick stepped back, hands clasped now in front of him. "You are ready. Frankly, Mr. Lockhart, the only thing you're lacking is confidence—and that is best forged under real pressure."
Gilderoy opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"You'll be participating in the qualifiers," Flitwick continued. "They begin in a few days. Consider it… an educational experience."
Gilderoy ran a hand through his hair. "Professor, with respect—"
"With respect," Flitwick interrupted gently, "you underestimate yourself."
The classroom felt smaller suddenly.
"You can decline," Flitwick added after a mont. "I won't force you."
Gilderoy hesitated.
Slowly, he nodded.
"…Alright," he said. "I'll do it."
Flitwick smiled, wide and satisfied. "Excellent. Pack wisely, Mr. Lockhart. We leave in two days."
Dinner that evening was louder than usual.
The Great Hall buzzed with holiday anticipation—students discussing travel plans, presents, and freedom from howork. Gilderoy had barely sat down when Alia dropped into the seat beside him, practically vibrating.
She shoved a parchnt in front of him.
"Read this Gil."
He raised a brow. "Bossy already?"
"Read. It."
Gilderoy unfolded the letter.
His smile widened.
"Accepted into the Auror Trainee Program," he read aloud. "Pending final academic results."
They have Auror Trainee Program at Hogwarts. Well… sounds like an Auror internship, though they probably don't call it internship here.
"Congratulations, Amy."
She barely had ti to grin before Gilderoy stood and pulled her into a hug.
"You did it," he said, voice warm.
She laughed against his shoulder. "I am only an Auror trainee still."
"Oh please," he said, releasing her just enough to look her in the eyes. "I know you. At the rate you are studying, you'll break every academic record Hogwarts has."
"If my results are good," Alia said, trying—and failing—to sound modest, "I'll be promoted straight from intern to trainee."
He smirked. "If? You'll crush it, Amy."
Alia, clearly pleased, leaned in and kissed him. Hard
A few nearby students suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.
"So," Gilderoy said casually as leaned back, "Trainee Auror Alia Bones—when do you start?"
"Just after Christmas Eve. I get exemptions from classes every Monday and Tuesday."
"Ministry days," he said.
She nodded.
"I'll miss you so much," Gilderoy murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Alia laughed, lightly pushing him away. "Such a flirt you are, Gil. It's just two days—stop being all sappy. But here—"
She pulled him into another kiss.
Gilderoy grinned evilly at the eavesdropping students, who now wore cringe-filled expressions, clearly regretting having witnessed the romance unfolding before them.
"Ready for our first United session tomorrow, my Auror trainee strategist?"
Alia snapped her fingers, cheeks flushing. "Oh! Right. I've already planned it."
He chuckled, leaning back. "Of course you have—nothing less from you."
Gilderoy felt soone watching them; his eyes fell on a girl stepping out of the hall, clutching a letter, her eyes slightly teary.
"Amy," he whispered, nudging Alia gently toward her.
Outside the hall, the girl froze, noticing they were following. Gilderoy imdiately recognized her—Emma Halloway, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Alia approached cautiously. "Emma… what's wrong?"
Emma hesitated, voice tight. "It's… it's the Auror internship. I got rejected." She swallowed hard. "My friends said it's because I'm Muggleborn. All the other interns… mostly half-bloods and purebloods."
Alia's eyes widened, disbelief written across her face. "That… that can't be true."
Emma pulled out her results, owl scores aligned in neat columns. Straight E's—Exceeds Expectations—except one O in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The grades were nearly identical to Alia's own.
Alia stared, still struggling to digest what she was seeing, the weight of injustice pressing down on her.
Gilderoy, however, was unsurprised. Internally, he recalled McGonagall's words from the first seventh-year class about how grades "mattered"—he had quietly called BS on that notion back then. As a transmigrator, he was acutely aware of the situations muggleborns faced: many, despite excellent Hogwarts records, failed to secure positions at the Ministry and were forced to return to the Muggle world, heartbroken.
Emma, her kind-hearted nature shining through, forced a smile. "But congratulations, Alia. You earned it."
Alia softened, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Thank you. I… I won't let this kind of unfairness continue—if I get the chance, I'll make sure it's fair for everyone."
Emma brightened, "At least you ca to talk to that's all that matters to ."
Alia turned slightly teary eye hearing her words but quickly gained composure in a split.
Emma glanced Gilderoy. "And you—beat Slytherin in the Quidditch finals. I'm rooting for you."
With a small wave and a smile, She departed. Alia and Gilderoy remained silent, walking toward the grand staircase.
Alia's jaw tightened, determination settling in. "If I ever get the power… I'll make sure no one else gets left out like that."
Gilderoy nodded, grasping her hand in quiet support.
---
They arrived early the next evening.
The Room of Requirent had already shifted into a wide dueling hall—polished floors, high ceilings, training dummies lining the walls. Alia and Gilderoy took seats near the corner, watching as the first mbers trickled in.
Hufflepuffs ca first. Then Gryffindors. Ravenclaws followed, talking quietly among themselves.
Slytherins arrived last.
When the room was nearly full, Alia stood.
"We're going outside."
Confusion rippled through the group.
"Outside?" soone echoed.
Yes, Gilderoy thought, side-eyeing the pudgy student who had asked the question, you desperately need to touch so grass.
"Yes," Alia said simply. "Move."
They exited into the cold evening air, gathering on the castle grounds.
Alia didn't waste ti. She said a single word
"Run," she said.
Silence.
Then the Quidditch players moved.
One by one, they broke into a jog without question, instinct recognizing the drill. Several half-bloods and Muggle-borns followed, used to physical conditioning.
The rest hesitated.
A few purebloods scowled.
"We're here to learn magic," one muttered.
Alia turned to them. "And magic doesn't work well when your body gives out."
She pointed toward the runners. "A few months ago, Gilderoy and I started running regularly. My stamina improved. My reaction ti improved. I dodge faster. I tire slower."
She paused.
"And if you think magic alone wins duels—rember how I beat every challenger in this group."
That did it.
Reluctantly, the remaining students began to run.
Gilderoy joined them, matching pace, occasionally nudging stragglers forward.
By the ti they stopped, even the Quidditch players were breathing hard.
"Since Holidays have started and most of you will leave to go ho for Christmas, You have to run like this outside your hos," Alia announced. "I wont be there to monitor you guys but if you honestly follow the routine I guarantee when you return you will feel ease at casting."
"We start dueling after Christmas holidays ends," she added.
---
Power Stones :)
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