Clinic bracket or not, an wave of anxiety overcame Handsome the moment he realized he was set to be facing fully-grown adults. They might not be seasoned duelists or auror potential, but he couldn't argue against their years of experience with simple spell-casting - something he was sorely lacking in at nineteen years of age. His experience in dueling had been in his NEWT-level Defence Against the Dark Arts class and the school's dueling tournaments, but even then he'd been pitted against students of lesser or equal ability.
Was he fucked? Probably. The only thing that encouraged him was his first opponent, a man of thirty or forty (he couldn't figure out which, and he stared at him too long to be polite in an attempt to figure it out), who didn't seem all too intimidating. Yet.
"Protego!" he cast, a little too quickly and a little too loudly, giving away his inexperience more than his physical features could.
Was he fucked? Probably. The only thing that encouraged him was his first opponent, a man of thirty or forty (he couldn't figure out which, and he stared at him too long to be polite in an attempt to figure it out), who didn't seem all too intimidating. Yet.
"Protego!" he cast, a little too quickly and a little too loudly, giving away his inexperience more than his physical features could.
— set by MJ —