The Slytherin gave a small eyeroll, but distance likely kept it from being too obvious. Genia had been impressive, had cast a viable spell without a damn wand. All the little girl had done was create a bit of smoke—something cooks and arsonists had been doing for centuries to little acclaim. She would show the judge true impressive if it killed him. But not her.

This time, the fifth year did take her wand in hand, not wishing to leave anything to chance—pride before the fall and all that. For the first time in such a competition, she cast in her mother tongue, a Yoruba spell to deprive the Gillenwater girl of all her senses at once.