The moment Purrloin landed on the ground, it immediately flung the wand clamped between its teeth far behind it—determined not to let it fall back into Barnard's hands again.
A seventh-year wizard had been disarmed in an instant. That scene left Draco Malfoy with a far deeper appreciation of a Pokémon's combat power. His grip on his wand tightened involuntarily.
Unfortunately, even though he stood on full alert, Purrloin didn't take him seriously at all.
Just another brat who waves a wand to make pretty sparks.
Little Malfoy—pathetic. Ridiculous.
At that moment, Purrloin's sharp, dangerous eyes turned toward Barnard, its extended claws glinting coldly in the sunlight.
Barnard stared at those claws—nearly five centimeters long—and felt cold sweat trickling down his forehead. Without a wand, a wizard's fighting power was nearly zero.
Now, all he could do was stretch out a trembling hand and attempt to summon his wand back with a Summoning Charm.
"Accio wand!"
"Accio wand!"
He tried several times, but the wand didn't respond.
Though the Summoning Charm was convenient, most wizards still needed a wand to cast it. Trying to summon something bare-handed was extremely difficult.
Meanwhile, Purrloin's expression had turned cruel.
It pounced again, this time using a Dark-type move—Assurance.
A brownish-black energy gathered around its claws like sharpened blades.
The base power of Assurance was sixty, a move Purrloin could only learn after reaching Level 21. Usually, by Level 20, a Purrloin would evolve into Liepard.
That meant this particular Purrloin was either high-leveled or naturally gifted.
The true danger of Assurance was that its power doubled if the opponent had already taken damage during the same turn.
Of course, reality wasn't a turn-based battle. Here, the "same turn" simply meant as long as the target had been injured recently.
And right now, Barnard fit that condition perfectly.
A 120-power move, boosted further by same-type attack bonus—if that blow connected, Barnard would be lucky to end up only in the Hogwarts ICU.
Fortunately, Malfoy still had some reflexes. Acting on instinct, he hurled his wand toward Barnard.
"Catch it, Barnard!"
Barnard snatched the wand just as Purrloin's strike came down. The dark energy blade was already descending toward his head!
"Protego!"
A translucent, spherical barrier flared to life in front of him, blocking Purrloin's vicious strike. The "blade" nearly carved into Barnard's skull—barely an inch away.
Crack!
Before Barnard could even exhale in relief, he heard a sharp, glass-like sound. Cracks spiderwebbed across his shield—Purrloin's attack had actually fractured his Protego!
"Accio wand!"
He stumbled backward several steps, flicking his wand to call it back to his hand again—just to be sure.
Still, the cracks weren't enough to shatter the barrier completely.
With his wand finally back in hand, Barnard's confidence returned. He straightened, meeting Purrloin's cold gaze without flinching.
"Quickly—defeat it! I'm definitely capturing it today!" Malfoy's voice trembled with both fear and excitement. He had already witnessed Purrloin's power; even a seventh-year wizard had nearly fallen to it.
If such a Pokémon belonged to him, how could he possibly lose the next time he faced Potter or that Weasley boy?
Unfortunately for him, though Malfoy had chosen Purrloin, Purrloin hadn't chosen Malfoy. Even if captured, it was unlikely to obey him.
From a distance, Charles Gold could see Malfoy's every move.
In truth, Malfoy's luck wasn't bad. Purrloin was a species Charles had only recently unlocked—an uncommon Dark-type Pokémon. Back when he'd been setting the traps to protect the Philosopher's Stone, Purrloin hadn't even been available yet.
That meant this particular Purrloin wasn't very high-leveled, though its talent was evident. Not only had it learned a high-powered move earlier than usual, but its individual values were probably excellent too.
Barnard, after all, was a seventh-year wizard. The earlier disarming had been a surprise attack from Fake Out. Once alert, he wasn't likely to lose again to Purrloin.
And now, humiliation burned inside him. Purrloin had embarrassed him in front of a first-year boy—he had to take that back.
He began waving his wand furiously, hurling spell after spell at Purrloin as if magic were free.
A wizard's magical strength was closely tied to the power of their spells, but their total magic reserve was more like stamina—it didn't deplete that easily after just a few incantations.
Barnard's magic wasn't especially strong, but he was still a grown wizard. If one Stunning Spell couldn't knock Purrloin out, then surely two or three could!
"Stupefy!"
"Expulso!"
"Depulso!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"—and more!"
Spells Malfoy had never even seen before flew wildly through the air, bursting and flashing across the clearing. Even Malfoy, who'd begun to look down on Barnard, found himself impressed again.
A seventh-year like him really does have some skill…
But to Charles, watching quietly from afar, Barnard's performance was laughable—completely unrefined.
Sure, it looked flashy: a flurry of diverse spells filling the air. But that was nothing more than blind fury.
At least Purrloin had used Fake Out strategically. Barnard, by contrast, wasn't even hitting half the time. He hadn't thought about the effectiveness of his spells, nor used even a single simple, efficient Transfiguration spell. His attacks lacked all structure and coordination.
To Charles, Barnard's level was at best comparable to Harry Potter's during his fifth year—when he'd barged into the Department of Mysteries.
Even so, his opponent was only a low-leveled Purrloin. Under that barrage of spells, it didn't last long. After being struck by several hits, Purrloin collapsed unconscious.
Malfoy seized the moment, whipping out a Poké Ball and tossing it. The ball struck the fainted Purrloin, clicked shut, and after a few brief shakes—ding!
Capture successful.
"Yes! I finally caught it!" Malfoy shouted, jumping with excitement, his face flushed with triumph—as if he had been the one who defeated it.
"Malfoy," Barnard said sourly, "you could at least share one Poké Ball with me now, right?"
"Here, take it," Malfoy said loftily, tossing him an empty Poké Ball like a spoiled young master tossing a coin to a servant.
(End of Chapter)