Previously on Defiance…
Hermione looked completely shocked and devastated by the turn of events. This was not supposed to happen. All that she and Ron had done was for the Light. This was not the way they were supposed to be treated after everything that happened. She glanced at Ron who was literally seething with rage, as he sat down and began to gulp in more amounts of food down his throat. Not able to control herself, she burst into tears before running out of the Great Hall.
"I guess that is enough surprise for the night." Dumbledore commented as he stood up. Nobody refuted his statement.
"This is not happening! This is not happening!" Hermione lifted her head as her bloodshot eyes stared hard at Ron who was sitting beside her in the Gryffindor dorm. "This is unfair! You know it."
"What can we do, Hermione? We did everything for Dumbledore. We put our duty in front of our friendship, and we reported everything to Professor Dumbledore, we did so much, while Harry busied himself in learning his... Family magic."
"Dark magic." Ron seethed.
"Dumbledore told us he is learning his family magic, Ron." Hermione countered condescendingly.
"You saw him, Hermione. You saw what he was about to do to Dumbledore in the duel. If he hadn't stopped Harry, we wouldn't have survived the explosion. You faced the waves, you know that!" Ron reasoned. For the first time, Hermione did not have anything to refute against Ron's logic.
"But the Headmaster-"
"Hermione, even if Harry was learning family magic, what makes you sure that his family magic isn't dark? You are missing the point. The Blacks were the darkest families in magical Britain ever since the Wizengamot was established.
"What is this family magic, anyway?" Hermione asked, curious. "I mean, your family is Pureblood too, Ron. Don't you also have your…?"
"Family magic? No, we don't, or at least, Dad hasn't shared it with us. Our family was an ancient family too, you know, until my great-grandfather lost everything to the Selwyns in a bad business deal. He decided to sell his family seat to make up for the lack of funds, and things have gone downhill ever since. The Ancient families decided to punish us and make an example out of us, and hence…" he reddened in embarrassment, "that is why Malfoy calls us 'blood traitors', because he wants to rub the fact on our face every time."
"That is why you hate each other so much?"
"Yes. Malfoys were the ones who helped the Selwyns beat my great-grandfather down and twist the business deal, losing him everything the Weasleys held. That is why we both hate each other so much. The Weasleys and Malfoys were allies, and they betrayed us."
"I never... knew."
Ron did not reply.
"For someone who sleeps during History of Magic, you sure know an awful lot." Hermione commented. The miniature history lesson had been a good enough distraction.
"This is family history. Every Pureblood is taught this before they join Hogwarts. It is… compulsory."
"Oh. So this family… dark magic, that Harry is learning, is that what made him so powerful?"
"Could be. He wasn't that great in class previously." Ron commented.
"Why would Dumbledore send him to the Guild then? It should have been-"
"It should have been you, Hermione. You are the smartest witch of your age." Ron returned, making her blush slightly. "We should… no, you should, you are better at this talking stuff. You should go and talk to Dumbledore about this."
"You think so?" Hermione asked, hoping for some encouragement from her only friend. Ron nodded.
"Very well."
"How are we supposed to travel to this…Guild?"
"We portkey, of course. An untraceable, slightly modified portkey used by Guild members. Can't let anyone trace it, can we?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded. He pulled out a little crimson scarf that had the Guild's seal on it and Harry held on it.
"Now, have you gotten everything you wanted?"
Harry mentally checked everything. Cloak. Trunk. Wand. Grimoires. Battle Robes. Trinkets. Yes, everything was there. He nodded in acknowledgement.
"Very well then. Let us begin your journey. To weave through magics, to battle with Giants and to dance with Death."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that a… tagline type thing?"
Dumbledore shrugged.
There are three kinds of portkeys. The first is the standard portkey that is issued and created by the artifacts from the Ministry of Magic, and are registered with the portkey for two galleons. These portkeys usually have a transfer load of six people and is usually accompanied by powerful spinning and feeling nauseous. For a beginner, it was almost expecting to fall on his stomach and throw the contents of his or her stomach outside.
The second kind of portkey is the unauthorized one, and are usually created by powerful individuals, like Albus Dumbledore, Augustus Rookwood or… dare one say it, Lord Voldemort. These portkeys usually have the capacity to transfer one or maximum two people from one place to another. They also share the nauseous feeling, though the spinning thing is absent.
The third and perhaps, most interesting kind of portkey is the one used by Guild members across the different Guilds on the planet. These portkeys lack any kind of spinning or nauseous feeling, and are usually used to transport a maximum of three people across one place to another, and are created using a specialized artifact placed at every Guild fortress. Unlike the other two, these portkeys are perfectly untraceable and operate under anonymity charms. Like the portkey Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were using right now.
One moment Harry was on Hogwarts, and then Dumbledore muttered something incomprehensible, and the next moment, he was standing on rocky ground, filled with snow, with a cold, hard wind blowing all over him, chilling his bones to death. Instantly, he cast warming charms on his person to protect himself from the cold, as Dumbledore did the same to himself. As far as the eye could see, there were humongous mountains, and snow… and snow… and nothing else but snow.
"Where are we?" Harry yelled, trying to make sure his voice wasn't drowned by the roaring wind. Dumbledore whipped his wand in an outward circle as a protective magical dome formed around them. "We are in Nepal, a miniature country bordering India. As of our location, we are standing on the highest mountain in the world."
"You mean this is-"
"Everest. Yes."
"The Guild... it's here?"
Dumbledore simply drew closer to his ear and whispered. "The Transfiguration Masters Guild is located at ten thousand feet above the ground, on Mount Everest, Nepal, just next to the Transmogrifian cave."
Instantly, the air around them seemed to blur as a gigantic stone edifice seemed to carve out of the face of the mountain- the pillars, the huge doors and windows—it was a damned fortress from the outer frontage, sinking into the mountain at such ungodly height. The front of the fortress had a royal and formidable-looking face engraved on the top.
"See that cave?" Dumbledore pointed to the right, and sure it was, a tiny cave was there, caving out from the main rock, almost imperceptible at the first glance. "That is the Transmogrifian cave. Remember that."
Harry nodded. Dumbledore waved his wand over himself and Harry, and magically their robes transformed into much thicker material, enough to keep the cold out. Harry put on the hood as he stared at the magical fortress that was about to be his home for the next few months.
No… Hogwarts is my home… A voice told him inside his mind, not that Harry refuted it.
Vanishing the dome away, the Master and his apprentice trudged through the snow, walking towards the giant edifice, towards the giant face through which a narrow pavement seemed to penetrate into the fortress.
"Whose face is that?"
"That face belongs to the most feared battle-mage in magical history. Atticus Le Fay, grandson of the nefarious witch Morgana Le fay. It is said that his power and knowledge of battle-magic was unparalleled."
"Atticus Le fay was a right bastard with no skills of his own except those he had stolen by blood magics," replied the same voice inside the depths of his mind. Harry wondered if this had anything to do with the part of his soul in the wand, but kept it to himself.
"Okay."
"Let us move in. It's time to introduce you to your professors." Dumbledore urged. "after all, they are going to be the one you are going to learn from."
"I thought you were going to be teaching me." Harry returned skeptically.
"Oh, I will. But that is private. The people we are going to meet are the active Professors at this place. You will be attending classes with other apprentices here. I will be teaching you on weekends in private. Surely you didn't think I will be shifting full time with you? I have Hogwarts to run, after all."
"Right." Harry drawled in Malfoyesque fashion.
From the looks, the fortress looked ancient by any and all standards. The ambient magic here, was at the same level as Hogwarts, if not greater. However, the innate homely feeling he was accustomed to at Hogwarts was absent, and was replaced by a foreboding feeling in his chest.
"That uncomfortable feeling that you are experiencing is because of the wards. You have been assigned the formal position of a student here, and hence, the wards are repelling you." Dumbledore commented offhandedly. The two walked across the main corridor and entered the tiny hallway that led to a small cavern-ish office at one end.
It was a small circular room, with a huge sprawling table built of stone and filled with hundreds of tiny, miniature artifacts making all kinds of queer sounds and noises. Harry ascertained that Dumbledore must have decorated his office copying it from here, given the unnatural similarity between both offices.
"Ah, Brian! Come in. And Mister Potter, welcome." Remarked an old, but no less formidable looking man sitting behind the table. The man had a thin silvery beard, cropped in French fashion with hazel eyes that pulsed with controlled power behind them. "Have a seat."
"Harry James Potter, meet GrandMaster Samuel Thuringen, the HighMaster of the Transfiguration Guild, not to mention my own mentor and friend." Dumbledore introduced, "Master Thuringen, meet Harry Potter, my apprentice and aspiring student under your tutelage."
Harry hesitantly smiled, while Samuel nodded expectantly.
"Oh," Dumbledore suddenly shook himself, "I knew I was forgetting something." He took out some documents from within his robes and forwarded them to Samuel who took them and began to look through the contents.
"Impressive Power levels. Battled a basilisk and killed it at twelve. Mastered a corporeal Patronus, and it is a thestral? Now that's unique. Winner of Triwizard Tournament only that you were underage. Lord of Potter and Black and affinity for family magics. Control over Fiendfyre and… interesting… your grades have rocketed this year, while previously they were average." Samuel commented, glancing at Harry, "any particular reasons?"
"Motivation. Previously I wanted to be normal, and now I want to be the best."
"Good answer, but I will hold you on to that." Samuel commented offhandedly, going back to reading. "Particular affinity for battle-magic and.. aha! Parselmouth, are you?" He looked up with interest.
"Yes." Harry answered, keeping his face expressionless while worrying inwardly if he would have to face the same old closed-mentality.
"Not to worry, not to worry, Mister Potter., The reason I am asking is because there is a Parseltongue native tribe not far from here. Unfortunately, they do not allow anyone but Parselmouths to enter their territory and have access to their lore and brand of magics. Since we never had a Parselmouth among us, the area falls under uncharted waters. I hope you will be able to change that."
Harry nodded, smiling for the first time.
"Now, let us get you done with the formalities." He took out several legal-looking documents and a very familiar quill, and handed it over. Recognizing what it is, Harry's face shifted into a frown. "Do I have to write with that?"
"Do you know what this is?" Albus demanded.
"Yes. A blood quill." Harry answered, still frowning.
"Where have you seen a blood quill before, Mister Potter?" Samuel looked at him with interest. "These quills went out of order several centuries before."
"The hag-I mean," Harry quickly changed track, "Umbridge, she was torturing students with it. She makes them writes lines with this for detention."
Instantly, Albus's face hardened. "That…. Woman is torturing students with a blood quill?"
"You didn't know?" Harry looked at him in surprise. The old man just looked angry before the emotion dissipated from his countenance.
"That may well be, but you have to use this quill to sign, Mister Potter. It makes the pact in blood."
"May I read it?" Harry asked.
"Of course."
The document stated that Harry James Potter was signing up as an apprentice to Albus Dumbledore under the banner of the Transfiguration Masters' Guild in best of health and sound mind, and under no forceful situations or mental control. As soon as he signed, he felt a wave flow through his nerves as the unpleasant sensation vanished.
"The wards now identify you as Harry James Potter, apprentice of Transfiguration Master's Guild. Now all we need is to get you a pseudonym for the academy."
"A pseudonym?"
"A fake name. The Guild is protected and pervaded by anonymity charms, and conceals the true identity of a student while they are there as an apprentice. The others will look at you, talk to you, but will not recognize you as Harry James Potter, the boy-who-lived. They will not be able to recognize your face even if they find it in some publication or anything of that sort. To them, you will be known by your pseudonym, until you have acquired your own mastery. Albus here, took the name Brian, when he was entered as an apprentice by Grandmaster Nicholas Flamel."
Harry turned to Dumbledore as if in confirmation.
"Surely you did not think that my parents gave me such a long name at birth?" Albus replied, a smirk on his ancient face. "My true birth name is Albus Percival Dumbledore. Wulfric and Brian being pseudonyms that I acquired from my masteries."
"Masteries?" Harry asked in awe, noticing how little he knew about his headmaster.
"Why yes." Samuel answered. "Brian here holds another mastery he obtained under the tutelage of Grandmaster Flamel and the Alchemist Guild. There he is known as master Alchemist Wulfric."
"Right."
"So we need to set a name for you, something that will be your identity. Albus had an ego that was hard to fit through the door so I gave him a rather simple name. Now you, on the other hand, need to have a little more confidence in your abilities than you seem to have." He looked back at the documents. "You have a good grasp of elemental magic and play more offensive than defense. You have the blood of war mages in you. Your wand is yew, which is good for offensive magic. I suppose I should name you Thor."
"As in the Norse God of battle and thunder?" Albus asked amusedly.
"Why not?" Samuel grinned. "He even has the lightning scar thing right."
Albus guffawed.
Thirty minutes later, a very embarrassed Harry James Potter, or rather - Thor, walked across the hallway towards the main staff room, following his Master and Grandmaster Thüringen. The staff office was very pedestrian to look at, though given the entire fortress, the residents did not place too much importance to style and comfort. Harry could live with that, not that he didn't have too much experience of living without comfort, only this time, it was by his own choice.
There were four masters responsible for the education of the seventeen apprentices, including Harry who were staying in the fortress. The first was Master Leonard Stark, who was a specialist in the field of elemental transfiguration, and had a propensity to resort to pyrotechnics, oddly reminding Harry of his classmate Seamus Finnegan, only that Master Stark had ironclad control over his powers. The man was around his own height, a little tanned with a long face, and had a thin beard stylishly maintained on his face.
The next was Master Anton Vanko, a Scandinavian by birth, who was a specialist in runic transfiguration. Apparently, he could defeat a multitude of opponents even without resorting to a single wand spell, just through the use of runes. He had a short stature and a squarish face with thin spectacles, revealing the sharp blue eyes behind them.
The third was Serena Thüringen, who was apparently Grandmaster Thüringen's own daughter, and was a specialist in the art of animation. She was a redhead, with sharp blue eyes, that reminded Harry of his own betrothed. Apparently, she and Dumbledore were classmates and had finished their Masteries at the same time. While Dumbledore had gone forth to achieve another Mastery under Nicholas Flamel, she had decided to pursue a career in education and research at the Guild. At present, she was a consultant for the ICW transfiguration council.
The fourth was a rather hunky and formidable looking man known as Derek Prince, who was apparently the Lord of the Ancient House of Prince in Magical Britain. The man was a specialist in weaponry and was a part-time professor in the Teufel academy in Bulgaria, which was notorious for turning out highly trained magical assassins. He was also the Guild's foremost authority in the Dark Arts, surpassing even Grandmaster Thüringen in that field. He had glanced at Harry once, the single look that promised Harry that he had just signed up for living in Hell for the next five months.
"Everyone, I leave Thor, my apprentice under your precious tutelage for the next five months, after which he will have to take a break to achieve his OWLS." Dumbledore expressed.
"A junior student? You brought a junior to the Academy? Have you finally gone insane, Brian?" Derek scoffed.
"Thor has had his magical maturity a few days ago."
"Thor... quite an ambitious name for someone so puny like you, boy." Derek replied gruffly, making Harry mentally associate the man with Snape almost instantly. "How old are you, boy?"
Harry looked at Dumbledore for his consent, who nodded and replied. "Thor is fifteen."
"Magical maturity at fifteen?" Serena whispered, "Impressive. I can see why someone like you took him under your wing so soon." Dumbledore looked a little embarrassed. Somehow, Harry felt like he would be liking the female Master much more than the Prince guy.
"What are your affinities, boy?" Stark questioned, eyeing Harry as if he was about to burst into flames any moment.
"I am decent with Flame transfiguration, and anything that is fueled by raw power like the Patronus and Fiendfyre."
"Indeed?" Stark looked at him queerly. "may I see your Patronus?"
Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who simply nodded. "You have no need to hide your skills, Thor. Remember, anonymity charms?" Samuel remarked from behind.
Harry willed his Thestral Patronus beside him, and there it was, the dazzling white creature standing beside him, seven-feet tall and powerfully bright.
"Impressive. A wandless, corporeal Patronus at fifteen. I am not going to go easy on you, Thor." Anton Vanko remarked, almost as casually as if he were talking about the weather. "Do you understand Runes?"
"A little." Harry confessed.
"A little won't do." He looked up at Dumbledore. "Brian, he needs the introductory potions. I will send them. Make sure he is ready by tomorrow."
"Of course." Dumbledore returned.
"The boy will need a quick intensive study program for the first two weeks, since the curriculum has already progressed into the term. You should have brought him in the previous week by the minimum." Vanko returned.
"That was the plan, but he was in a magical coma for five days while having his maturity. I brought him as soon as I could."
Vanko nodded.
"What was he talking about?" Harry asked his mentor. "-about the introductory potions." He clarified.
"Anton makes his students intake several memory potions, which provide a workable knowledge into the field of the seven runic languages he teaches. He does not have the time or the patience to deal with beginners stumbling over the runic alphabets, and prefers them to start the session knowing those before-hand. Hence, the potions." Dumbledore explained.
"Awesome." Harry grinned. "What are you going to teach me?"
Albus smiled. "I am going to teach you how to use transfiguration in battle—taking your opponent's attack and transfiguration into your own defense. If you want an example, my most famous demonstration of my caliber was in 1945 when I transfigured Fiendfyre into a dozen rock golems, animated to fight for my side."
"Cool." Harry gushed. "where are we going now?"
Dumbledore smiled at his apprentice's enthusiasm. "We are going to your room. Your dorm, so to say. Unlike Hogwarts, apprentices get their own private room, though I admit, it is quite pedestrian."
Indeed, it was. Just a single bed, with a chair and table with a candle holder on the table. There was a book shelf and another for robes. There was a single window opening out into the mountains- the snow outside being visible from inside. For one thing, the room had inbuilt warming charms, supported by runes which remained activated using power from ley lines, running beneath the fortress.
"Like it?"
"It's good."
"Well, that settles it. Your trunk has been moved already, and is placed underneath the bed. Your classes begin tomorrow. Remember, no one knows you here as Harry Potter, and no one will associate you with Harry Potter. The anonymity charms take care of that. While you are a student, you are Thor, and frankly, that is a much better name than Brian."
Harry grinned.
"I think I should forewarn you about something beforehand." Dumbledore mentioned after some thought. "No matter what happens, never keep your abilities in secret. This place and its environment will challenge you, and you have to prove time and time again that you belong here. Do it, and you will have no problems. The education program is different from Hogwarts. Here, the principle is -'Ask not, get not'. The more you ask for deeper and more advanced education, the more you will be provided, though you will need to master what you are learning before demanding the next. No time to waste in here."
"How much… time does it take to acquire a Mastery?"
"Depends. There are two ways. The conventional way is to hold against the Masters in a fight for a given time. If you can do it, you are claimed to be a Master. The twist is that; you have to fight with what said Master has taught you. For instance, if you are fighting Serena, you can use animation and only animation- nothing else, and hold on for thirty-three minutes, which is the official fight time interval."
"And the second option?"
"The second option is to create a new battle-technique from scratch, test it against the Masters and defeat them in a four-on-one battle. However, this battle allows you to use any trick in and out of the book, and even stuff you can make up."
"Okay."
"Most people take at least two years to gain a Mastery. However, if you show progress, I might have some surprise for you, which I promise, you will love, but at the same time, will mean a lot more work than you already would have to give."
"I am not sure if I should call it a surprise or a shock." Harry deadpanned.
"Semantics." Dumbledore returned. "Get your rest. Remember, there are no elves here, so you will have to wash your clothes and tidy your room yourself. The food, however, is prepared by the chef and you do not need to worry about it."
Harry nodded.
"I will take my leave. I will meet you this weekend for your classes. Enjoy your stay."
"Thanks." Harry whispered. The old man might have committed many wrongs in regards to his life, but the chance to become the best damned wizard was something he wouldn't have gotten if not for the same old man. Casting a tempus charm, he realized that it was already quite late. Knowing that he would need to get up early, he shed off his robes for a good night's sleep.
The next morning…
Dressed up in the official apprentice robes, Harry looked at the mirror to have a look at himself before he began the first day of a new phase of his life. The previous night, he had taken the memory potions before going off to sleep, though he couldn't really feel any difference in himself or his memories. He tried to put his hair fall down, but it remained standing up adamantly as ever.
"Balls," he whispered, trying to force some of his magic through his hand, as the hair somehow bent into a more proper position. "I guess I will have to do with that."
Breakfast had been rather pedestrian. The rich, bulky, delicious Hogwarts food was absent, replacing them with simple bread and soup, with an assortment of fruits and nuts. No pumpkin juice, only cold water from the streams running down the mighty mountain. Finishing his breakfast rather quickly, Harry checked with his schedule and went off for his first class.
Elemental Transfiguration with Master Stark.
The class had eight students, with seven of them seated in chairs, with Master Stark standing behind a rather large table. The classroom looked like an assortment of random objects, cluttered all around, almost like a muggle store room or a garage. Harry took his seat, ignoring the silent stares of the other seven students in the room.
"My fellow students, please welcome your new colleague, Thor." Two of the students chuckled at the name, while others stared at him oddly.
"You seem a little too young to be here." One of the students, a girl who looked around twenty, looked at him pointedly.
"I wasn't told that learning elemental transfiguration required a specific age." Thor retorted calmly, though the undercurrent of irritation was vivid beneath his cool exterior.
"Oh, look the puny kid is getting angry. Look kid," a rather large and bulky looking young man, who looked to be around twenty-five if he had to throw a guess, stared coldly at him. "This," he pointed out, "-is a place for people who know stuff. Not for those who are learning which end of the wand to hold."
Thor looked at Master Stark who was watching him intently, an expressionless demeanor stuck on his face, almost as if he was waiting for him to demonstrate a reaction. "Well it is a good thing then that I do not need to know it." Thor looked at his interrogator with a smirk. He raised his left palm, as the young man began to levitate up into the air-"I am fairly good without one." He smirked again, letting the young man down.
"Wandless magic? You can-" The first girl replied in a surprised voice.
"Yes." Thor deadpanned, in a tone that allowed no place for further arguments.
"Okay, class." Master Stark clapped his hands loudly, "Enough mingling among yourself. Let's begin the course for the day." He stood up and faced everyone as they looked expectantly at him.
"Because we have a new student among us today, I was hoping to have a quick revision of the concepts we have studied, recently. So who among you can share the Descartes' principle?"
A few raised their hands.
"Thor? Do you know it?"
Thor shook his head. "No, sir."
"Too bad. Amy, do you?"
"Of course, sir." The girl who had talked to him some time ago began to explain, "it states that the amount of energy used up during multiple flame retransfiguration is always exponential." She turned to glance at Thor and continued, "it means, the amount of magical power required to retransfigure fire increases by multiple amount, the more you do it."
"Right." Stark added, "now let us see a practical demonstration of the principle. Thor, would you like to volunteer."
Thor shrugged, as he stood up.
"I want you fight me off, using flame conjuration and transfiguration. Can you do that?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Which flame spells are you familiar with?"
"Incendio, Ignis, Incendiaro, Fiendfyre."
"Fiendfyre?" Stark raised his eyebrows. "Can you contain it?"
"Excuse me?" Thor asked, not familiar with the term.
"Hmm, let's demonstrate." Stark took to the center of the room, standing in the middle. "Observe." He snapped his fingers and there it was, flickering and dancing on the tip of his thumb, a little Incendio flame. Stark snapped his fingers and then made a fist, only to open his palm wide and there in the middle, was the flame, this time in the shape of a fiery sphere.
"Now." Stark pushed some of his energies as the sphere grew larger, and larger, until it was around ten inches in diameter, still perfectly stable in its shape and form. "This class," Stark explained, "is about learning how to adequately manipulate your energies, usually in flame form, and contain it to suit our purposes. Magic manipulation is an intricate art, and flame manipulation is merely the easiest way to be successful in it."
"Would you say that this fireball contains a lot of energy?"
"No, sir." A student replied.
"Why Flames, sir?" asked another student, sitting at the back.
"Because fire is pure energy, despite being an element. Something that differentiates it from the other elements of the universe." Thor spoke out quietly. "Right?"
"Right." Stark agreed with a confused smile. "Tell me Thor, how is it that you are almost a dunce at ordinary theories, and yet understand the complicated mechanisms behind transfiguration?"
Thor shrugged.
"Right." Stark replied, "let's get back to our promised fight. Wont back out of an honest challenge." He grinned, much to everyone's amusement.
"Now Thor, as I said, only flame conjuration and transfiguration. Nothing else. I am a Professor, and hence I cannot allow you to levitate me and make fun of me. Right?" He grinned, showing that he wasn't serious.
"Right, sir."
"Well, I am the Master, so I will be the one to fire first. He shot the fireball towards Harry who retransfigure it easily into a tiny pellets towards him. Stark simply raised his wand, and transfigured the incoming attack into a fiery imitation of a dozen bats which attacked Thor, who spun his wand quickly to shielding against them but to no effect.
"Remember. Conjuration and Transfiguration." Stark yelled over the flames.
Thor listened to his voice as he forced his magic through the wand, feeling the fiery bats to tried to force their magics to transform. The entire group merged to form into a missile like shape, which shot towards Stark, who had a grin on his face.
"Excellent." He congratulated, "-however," he thrust his wand forwards as the entire missile exploded, the energy throwing Thor by at least five feet.
"And that, students," he concluded dramatically, "shows how more energy is required whenever you try to retransfigure flames, proving Descartes' principle right."