Harry cast a quick enervate between shielding spells, most of his attention on the Beauxbaton students who seemed uncertain about what to do now. Harry held a shield and looked back at Riddle. He rose to his feet, only slightly unsteady, pulling his wand from his holster. They must have stunned him from behind, if he hadn’t even gotten his wand out. The French students were foolish not to have disarmed him, unconscious or not; what were they thinking? Didn’t they know what he was capable of?