A Certain Magical Hogwarts

As it turns out, the love of watching a fight is universal—whether you're from the East or the West, whether you're a Muggle or a wizard.

The entire street was jammed with onlookers, so much so that you couldn't even see the people fighting. You could only hear the ruckus.

If you didn't know better, you might think it was a celebrity meet-and-greet.

William even saw a few reporters hovering mid-air on broomsticks, hurriedly setting up cameras while shouting, "Come on, fight already!"

Indeed, Western journalists are just as fast at flying as they are at running!

William and Cedric, being smaller in size, easily slipped through the gaps in the crowd.

In the middle of the street, two groups were facing off.

On one side was a man with light golden hair, shimmering in the glow of the setting sun, while on the other side, the opposing group flaunted vibrant red hair.

The red-haired group was clearly larger in number.

At the front stood a tall, thin man with glasses and sparse red hair, with a balding spot on his head.

Behind him was a broad-faced boy whose freckles made his face look almost tanned. He had rolled up the sleeves of his worn wizard's robe, revealing muscular arms that suggested he spent a lot of time working out.

Charlie Weasley had clearly been on the verge of throwing a punch but was held back at the last moment by his father, who had grabbed him by the collar.

Behind them stood two kids about the same age as William, both sporting the same vibrant red hair and freckles. Most striking of all—they looked exactly alike.

Twins!

Each of the twins held what looked like toy guns.

Meanwhile, the group on the golden-haired side had far fewer people: just a middle-aged man and his son, who looked to be around ten years old.

Though they were outnumbered, their presence was still imposing, or perhaps more accurately, they exuded an air of arrogance.

Both father and son raised their chins in disdain, their expressions so haughty that one might think they owned the entire street.

The man with the pale golden hair stood at the front, holding a wand decorated with a massive emerald, as large as a pigeon egg.

He dusted off his fine robes with his left hand, his cold, gray-blue eyes locked on the red-haired man.

"Well, well, Arthur Weasley, it seems your son lacks manners. He nearly soiled my robes just now.

"This fabric comes from France, and I highly doubt you could afford to replace it with your meager income."

Lucius' pigeon-egg-sized emerald glistened in the sunset as he sneered at the worn wand in Charlie's hand.

The boy's wand was old and shabby, with parts of the wood peeling off, and even some unicorn hair sticking out of the end.

"Tsk tsk, how pathetic," Lucius drawled mockingly. "Weasley, you can't even afford a new wand for your son… It seems the Ministry isn't paying you enough to support that brood of yours."

"This has nothing to do with you, Lucius Malfoy," Arthur retorted coldly. "You should worry more about how you'll handle Alastor. He's very eager for a chat with you."

At the mention of Mad-Eye Moody, Lucius' arrogant demeanour wavered for a moment. His pale face flushed with a hint of red as if someone had squeezed the life out of a chicken.

"Hmph, no need to concern yourself with that. I'll deal with him soon enough! As for you, you'd better hurry over to the second-hand shop before the old textbooks are all gone."

Lucius then shifted his gaze to Charlie and the twin brothers, his sneer growing even more contemptuous. "Isn't that right? The Weasleys reproduce like rabbits…"

Before Lucius could finish his sentence, he was attacked—but not by Arthur.

The twin boys had fired their toy guns, which shot out a sticky, white, gooey substance.

It didn't hit Lucius' expensive robes but splattered directly onto his face.

Furious, Lucius raised his wand, the one adorned with the giant emerald, and swung it at Arthur's head.

Arthur's head swelled instantly from the blow, but he wasn't about to back down. He delivered a clean right hook straight to Lucius' face.

Lucius tried to dodge with a nimble back-and-forth shuffle, hoping to avoid the punch.

But all his fancy footwork was useless—Arthur's fist connected squarely with his nose.

Blood gushed from Lucius' nose, and his wand flew out of his hand, rolling across the ground.

William had been wondering if the giant emerald on Lucius' wand was real. Now he could proudly confirm—it was genuine!

Because Lucius, bleeding profusely from his nose, didn't even care. He lunged forward, shouting, "Anyone who dares touch my Star of Sierra Leone will face the wrath of the Malfoy family!"

Arthur, clearly experienced in brawls, seized the opportunity and kicked Lucius in the backside, sending him stumbling forward into a face-first fall.

But Lucius wasn't completely helpless. As he fell, he executed the long-lost Quidditch defensive move—the Scorpion Kick.

Both his feet snapped together and kicked out swiftly, tripping Arthur and dragging him down with him.

Arthur landed on top of Lucius, causing the latter to scream in pain, though his cries soon turned into muffled groans as Arthur grabbed him by the throat to keep him from reaching his wand.

But Lucius, still desperately reaching out, wasn't going for his wand at all—he was trying to grab his giant emerald!

Fueled by sheer rage, Lucius managed to drag himself forward, pulling Arthur along as he growled, "You think you can choke me, do you?!"

Two grown men, wizards 

Fighting like muggles,

In the middle of Diagon Alley,

Wrestling, grappling, and shouting,

Neither willing to back down…

Cheers and shouts erupted from the surrounding crowd, with spectators yelling out all sorts of encouragement.

"Yeah, that's it! Punch him harder!"

"Hey, redhead! Why are you fighting like a monkey? Use some strength, will ya?!"

The most excited by far were the reporters. They frantically snapped photos, eager to plaster this brawl all over tomorrow's Daily Prophet.

As the crowd surged forward, William and Cedric were pushed along with them.

Cedric seemed anxious. William glanced at him and asked, "What's wrong? You know them?"

"Yeah," Cedric nodded. "The twins are the Weasley brothers. They're good friends of mine, and Mr. Weasley works with my dad."

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go help!" William said matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" Cedric looked taken aback. "You mean… help fight, not break up the fight?"

As a well-behaved kid, Cedric had never been in a fight before.

"Break it up?" William suddenly understood and gave Cedric a thumbs-up. 

"Ah, right, right, that blond guy looks tough… We'll pretend to break it up but sneak in some hits. He'll never know who did it afterwards.

"Nice thinking, Cedric."

"…" Cedric felt like that wasn't what he meant at all.

"Look at that! He's trying to ambush them—how shameless!" William shouted suddenly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blond boy, Draco, raising a glass bottle, about to throw it.

It was a half-full, chilled bottle of Coca-Cola… Hitting someone over the head with that would be bad news.

William raised his arm and cast his very first spell as a wizard.

"Wingardium Leviosa!~"

It was perfect.

It was magical.

Once again, William felt the same sensation he had back in Ollivander's shop. 

As he gripped his wand, it was as if he held the world in his hands. The previously elusive magic now felt entirely under his control, as tame as a lamb.

William knew his spell had worked, because instinct never lies.

Cedric was shocked.

This particular spell wasn't difficult to cast, but for a novice wizard, it was something taught two months after starting school. And William had only just received his wand—yet he succeeded on his first try.

But William felt embarrassed.

The spell had worked, but it missed its target. A flash of light shot past and hit the large ice cream cone in Draco's hand instead.

The ice cream floated into the air, wobbling for a moment before landing with a splat—right on Draco's face.

William: "…"

Cedric: "…"

The Weasley twins: "Nice shot!"