Penwick

"Oh, that’s low,” he said, though there was no real complaint in it.

His grip tightened a little on his wand as he shifted his footing again, trying to keep himself steady without making it obvious how aware he still was of the edge behind him. His pulse hadn’t settled properly in a while now, each near miss and shove only winding him up more, but Tristan’s expression made it hard to feel properly annoyed about any of it. If anything, Devi looked more awake now than he had at the start of practice, all sharp eyes and restless energy.

Then he caught the look on Tristan’s face, that smug little challenge in it. For a moment, a shadow seemed to cover his friend's eyes, but it was gone so quickly he was sure it was his imagination. His grin pulled wider. “All your attention, huh?” he echoed, eyebrows lifting as if he were giving that very serious consideration. “Well, that makes me feel special. Alright, then,” he said, voice a little more focused now, though the smile hadn’t gone anywhere. “Since you asked so nicely... Flipendo!”

Tristan was pushed back again as Devon bounced on his toes, enjoying duelling on the edge (literally). "We're getting quite good at this. D'ya think Luke won his duel against that Floranti girl?"

The look in Tristan’s eyes told Devi exactly where this was going before the words had even fully left his mouth.

A grin pulled at Devi’s mouth, adrenaline buzzing hot under his skin. “Yeah,” he said, adjusting his footing and lifting his wand properly again. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

His pulse was hammering now. Between how close he’d come to losing three different times and the way the two of them had settled into a rhythm, it felt like the whole duel had narrowed down to this. One shot. One opportunity. To seize everything you they'd wanted in one moment. Would he capture it or just let it slip?

Uh oh, distracting song now stuck in his head. Devi’s eyes stayed fixed on Tristan’s. He barely gave himself another second to think. “Flipendo!”

Their spells left at the same time, white light cutting clean across the piste toward each other. For one brief second, Devi thought they’d crash together in the middle, but instead, Tristan’s spell tore straight through his.

Devi only had time for a quick, disbelieving flash of "Oh, come on," before the force of it hit him square and sent him off the piste.

He went down hard, the breath knocked out of him in one rough rush as he caught himself badly and slid on the floor. For a second he just stayed there, staring up at the ceiling with his jaw clenched, one hand still wrapped around his wand.

“Damn you Eminem for distracting me," he muttered, more to the ceiling than anything else. He pushed himself upright with a grimace, not enjoying how warm his face felt. Tristan offered him a hand. The sour look on Devon's face didn’t last, it couldn’t.

Still, when he got to his feet, there was a clear edge of frustration in the way he brushed himself off. “That was…” He exhaled hard through his nose and shook his head once, unable to stay too frustrated at his friend. “That was really good, Tristan. Good game,” he said as hhe offered his hand for a handshake.