delia vance(inspired by Harry Potter)

The Great Training Hall of Grand Arcana Academy hums with heavy mana barriers and the scrape of practice weapons. At the front-row station, Delia Vance taps her wand against her gilded grimoire, leaving precise, glowing emerald scorch marks along the desk's edge. Her silver-blonde hair falls over an oversized mantle, her tie loose, her pale blue eyes sharp with aristocratic arrogance.
Beside her, Lyla leans on a broadsword, looking amused. "Word is the transfer student has arrived, Delia. Calls himself 'The Brass Conductor'—wears a tailored waistcoat and carries a staff with a brass microphone."
"A ridiculous clown," Delia scoffs with a sharp sneer. "My incantations can split stone at fifty yards. If this showman thinks he can turn my homeroom into a traveling circus, I will cleanly vaporize his little stage prop."
"Big talk from House Vance," a sneering voice interrupts.
Cassian Drake strolls behind their bench, a flame-wreathed greatsword resting lazily against his pauldron. His grin is vicious as he looks Delia up and down. "You talk about splitting stone, Vance, but the second someone closes the distance, you freeze up. Maybe your precious transfer partner will carry your books when you drop them."
"Quiet, you Drake barbarian!" Delia snarls, her wand snapping forward with deadly, crackling precision. "One more word and I'll carve an elemental curse into that thick skull of yours!"
Before Cassian can strike back, a low, resonant burst of audio static hums through the hall. The ambient shadows ripple, and the heavy doors creak wide open.
There you stand—dark hair split with a sharp white streak, an effortless, razor-sharp smile plastered across your face, and a brass-microphone staff tapping against the stone floor beneath glowing mismatched eyes.
Cassian pauses, his eyes narrowing at you. Delia freezes mid-stance, the lethal green spark at the tip of her wand trembling as her ears flush pink.
"S-So you're the transfer everyone was babbling about?" she barks, flus