CHAPTER 23: MASTER OF THE ARENA
The rest of the students reluctantly joined her on the stage that the Room of Requirement had conjured for them. As the crowd settled into their chairs, Harry couldn't help but notice with amusement that Fred and George had already begun taking bets. Ever the opportunists, they knew how to make money out of any situation.
"Now, dueling etiquette," Harry began, addressing the group with a tone that was both instructive and challenging. "First, we bow. Then we count down from three."
He bowed to the group, but before he could even finish straightening up, one of the Slytherins—predictably—cast a Stunner at him. Without missing a beat, Harry easily batted the spell away, his reflexes sharp.
Harry straightened up fully and smiled, though there was a hint of a challenge in his eyes. "Great initiative. Remember, Death Eaters won't adhere to dueling etiquette, so neither should you. Spell-deflection is just one of the many things I'll be teaching you later this year."
"Go, Harry!" Fred and George cheered from the crowd, their voices loud and enthusiastic.
But Harry didn't let up. He knew he needed to make an impression, and even without fully processing all of Voldemort's memories or having his muscle memory, he was confident that he could handle mere Hogwarts students. They were talented, but they weren't seasoned fighters. Not yet.
With a swift flick of his wand, Harry conjured a thick cloud of smoke, a dense grey fog that quickly enveloped the entire stage. The crowd gasped as visibility dropped to almost zero, the tension in the room escalating rapidly.
"Where the hell did he go?" Zacharias's voice rang out, tinged with frustration and a hint of fear.
Harry cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, effectively blending into the fog. He moved silently through the haze, his wand at the ready, as he shielded himself from the barrage of curses that flew in every direction. Despite his precautions, one of the curses—a Cutting Curse—slipped through, breaking his shield and grazing his side. Harry swore under his breath as he felt the sharp sting of the wound. Quickly, he muttered, "Episkey," the healing spell closing the gash and stopping the bleeding.
Not a good start, he thought grimly, feeling the warm, sticky sensation of blood under his shirt. He knew he needed to do better, to push harder, to show them why he was the one leading this group.
With a deep breath, Harry steeled himself, his mind racing through possible strategies. He wasn't just dueling; he was setting the tone for what was to come. This was about more than just proving a point to Zacharias or anyone else—this was about showing them all that survival required more than just skill; it required adaptability, cunning, and a willingness to fight when the odds weren't in your favor.
Harry moved through the fog with renewed determination, casting spells that disarmed, disoriented, and disabled his opponents. He was relentless, his wand movements precise and efficient, each spell perfectly timed. The duel became a blur of light and motion, spells ricocheting off shields, counters meeting attacks in a display of magical prowess that left the crowd breathless.
Finally, as the fog began to dissipate, the last of his opponents was disarmed, their wands clattering to the ground as they fell back, defeated. Harry stood at the center of the stage, his breathing heavy but controlled, his wand still raised.
The silence that followed was almost deafening, the crowd stunned into speechlessness by what they had just witnessed. Harry lowered his wand, his expression neutral, though a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
He looked around the room, meeting the wide-eyed gazes of the students. "This isn't just about showing off," he said, his voice steady but firm. "This is about preparing for what's out there. If you're willing to learn, I'm willing to teach. But you have to be ready to push yourselves beyond what you think you're capable of. Because when the time comes, there won't be room for hesitation or doubt."
The students remained silent, but there was a new respect in their eyes, a recognition of the challenge that lay ahead. Slowly, they began to nod, the skepticism replaced by determination.
Harry felt the tension ease slightly as he addressed them once more. "Now, let's get back to it. Pair up again, and let's work on those Disarming Charms."
As the students moved to obey, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. This was just the beginning, but it was a beginning on his terms. And that, he knew, was exactly what they needed.
But Harry wasn't about to let the momentum shift. He had made his point, but now it was time to drive it home. Without missing a beat, he conjured a sturdy wooden bench, lined the front with a double-sided Sticking Charm, and with a swift motion of his wand, Banished it toward his attackers, who were still standing in a loosely formed line. The bench hurtled through the air, crashing into Marietta Edgecombe and sweeping her off her feet. She was flung against the wall, where she remained stuck, immobilized and wide-eyed.
The remaining attackers quickly raised their shields in response, but Harry noted their disjointed efforts. A real team of duelers would have immediately tried to recover their ally, but these students had nothing in common—not yet. That was partly why Harry had chosen students from all four houses, to emphasize the importance of unity and strategy in battle.
Adrian Pucey, ever resourceful, muttered a spell under his breath, and suddenly the thick smoke that had filled the room was swept away by a fierce, howling wind. The force of it nearly knocked Harry's glasses off his face, but he quickly adjusted them, now fully visible and facing four raised wands. A barrage of spells—red, green, and blue—rushed toward him, but Harry was ready. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he conjured a brick wall, thick and solid, just in time to absorb the impact. The wall held, but it was already crumbling under the force of the spells.
Harry smirked, a plan forming in his mind. Brick and stone—solid materials that he could work with. Dumbledore had been a master of transfiguration, but Tom Riddle had been no slouch either, and Harry had learned a few tricks from both. With a determined twist of his wand, he animated the crumbling bricks. They lifted off the ground, coalescing into a large, spinning ball that gradually formed arms and legs—a crude but effective golem.
"Scare them," Harry commanded quietly, and the golem lumbered forward, its heavy steps echoing ominously in the now silent room. The attackers unleashed a flurry of spells at the creature, but their efforts were futile. The golem's thick, stone surface absorbed the magic without flinching.
Terence Higgs, however, had been circling around to Harry's side, his approach announced by a sudden storm of screeching red birds—an impressive display of conjuration. The birds dived toward Harry with alarming speed, their beaks and talons gleaming with magical energy. But Harry was quicker. With a deft flick of his wand, he transformed the birds into shards of ice, which immediately reversed direction and hurtled back at Higgs. It was only at the last second that Harry realized the ice shards might cause more damage than was acceptable in a "friendly" duel. But it was too late to stop them.
Higgs, eyes wide with alarm, raised a shield just in time to deflect the icy projectiles. But Harry was already on the move. He sprinted forward, using the momentum to break through Higgs' shield with sheer physical force. Before Higgs could react, Harry reached out and plucked the wand from his hand, disarming him with ease. A quick Stunner followed, and Higgs crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Shields could stop spells and projectiles, but they were useless against a determined opponent who was willing to get up close and personal. That was the second rule of dueling—a lesson Higgs had just learned the hard way.
Now, only Zacharias Smith, Adrian Pucey, and Tracey Davis remained. The golem had reached them, its lumbering form towering over the students, but they had managed to bring it down by transforming the ground beneath it into a pool of quicksand—no doubt Adrian's doing. Harry had to admit, it was a clever move. Slytherins were often taught more advanced dueling techniques than students from other houses, and Adrian had clearly paid attention in those lessons.
But Harry wasn't done yet. He waved his wand subtly, and the pool of quicksand began to expand slowly, creeping toward the feet of the remaining duelists. They didn't notice at first, too focused on their next move, but Harry knew it wouldn't be long before they realized their predicament.
The third rule of dueling: never create an environment you can't control or clean up. Adrian had made a mistake by conjuring the quicksand without thinking of the consequences, and Harry was about to turn that mistake against him.
The trio didn't notice the quicksand slowly spreading beneath their feet as they were too focused on their spells. Harry just needed to keep them distracted. With a swift motion, he cast Avis, conjuring a flock of birds that soared toward them. As they neared, Harry doubled up with Anteoculatia, causing the birds to suddenly sprout sharp antlers. The sight was both absurd and terrifying, and before Zacharias could react, he was being pierced and gouged by the enraged, antlered birds. Recovering quickly, he sent a gust of wind that scattered the flock, but not before taking some damage.
Meanwhile, Tracey fired a vicious curse at Harry, which he deflected with ease. He responded with a trio of spells—Flipendo, Furnunculus, and Furios. Tracey skillfully dodged the first two, but the Furnunculus curse hit her squarely in the face, causing her skin to erupt in a mass of grotesque purple boils. She screamed in fury, oblivious to the quicksand now pooling around her feet.
The quicksand had now engulfed all three of them, but simply being caught in it wouldn't be enough—they could still free themselves or use Ascendio to escape. Harry needed to ensure they were incapacitated. With a sly grin, he summoned the wooden bench that had Marietta stuck to the wall. The bench rocketed back with tremendous force, slamming into the backs of Zacharias, Adrian, and Tracey, driving them face-first into the quicksand. Their wands flew from their hands as they struggled in the muck, and Harry quickly summoned the wands to himself before stunning Marietta, who had been freed by the bench's movement. The duel was over.
Cheers and whoops erupted from the watching crowd. Harry flicked his wand, vanishing the quicksand and casting Rennervate on his downed opponents. As they groggily regained their senses, Harry gestured to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for all those who had the courage to fight." He nodded toward the five, taking the edge off their embarrassed and scowling expressions.
Hermione rushed to him, eyes bright with admiration. "Harry, that was amazing!" She threw her arms around him in a hug. Harry returned the embrace, giving her a quick, affectionate pat on the bottom, eliciting a surprised gasp from Hermione that was lost amid the noise of the crowd.
"Now," Harry began dryly, stepping back from Hermione. "If we're all satisfied with my credentials as a teacher, I trust none of you will have any trouble calling me 'sir.' Believe me, it's not for my ego. I have a lot to teach you, and we need the right environment for you to learn. So, do you all want to learn?"
"Yes, sir," Fred and George chorused, linking arms. "Especially if you can teach us how to make a golem like that."
Harry chuckled. "Eventually."
Zacharias approached Harry, looking abashed as he extended his hand. "Sorry, Potter. I, uh… I guess you're the real deal."
Harry clasped Zacharias's hand and patted him on the back. "Let's put this behind us, Zacharias." The deliberate use of Zacharias's full name seemed to ease some of the tension.
Harry turned back to the rest of the group. "Now, what can we learn from that demonstration?"
Susan raised her hand, and Harry nodded at her. "Yes, Susan?"
She flushed slightly as she spoke. "You set up the quicksand and the bench stuff in advance. You planned it, like, a minute before it happened."
"Good observation," Harry replied. "The duel was only a minute or two, but it probably felt like a lot longer, right? A lot of people think duels are these short, intense bursts of adrenaline—ten to thirty seconds of non-stop spell-flinging. But real fighting, especially against Death Eaters, is about survival. The Death Eaters are always looking to hit hard and fast before the Aurors arrive. If you can make a fight last, you increase your chances of surviving. So, how do you make a fight last longer?"
Hannah Abbott eagerly raised her hand, her excitement clear. "Hannah?"
As Hannah's enthusiasm bubbled over, Harry couldn't help but smile. "Yes, exactly! Visibility and concealment are key. The smoke charm, combined with an old witches' charm originally designed to give volume to their hair, can make you nearly invisible. That's what I'll be teaching you today. If you pick it up quickly, I'll also show you how I used that double-sided Sticking Charm on the bench so Marietta couldn't move."
He paused, letting the excitement in the room build. "I'd like you all to split into pairs. One of you will practice Fumus to create smoke—the wand movement is a figure of eight—and the other will practice the Volume Charm. That's Massatus, and your wand movement should resemble three prongs, like this." He demonstrated the motions fluidly. "After ten minutes, show each other what you've learned and switch charms. Any questions?"
"No, sir," the students responded in unison.
"Good," Harry said with a pleased smile. "I'll be circling to help out. Begin!" He clapped his hands, setting the room in motion.
As the students worked diligently, Harry found himself enjoying the role of a teacher. There was something about the way they looked up to him, the way they called him "sir," that gave him a quiet thrill. It was a power he hadn't sought out, but now that he had it, he couldn't deny the satisfaction it brought him.
"Harry," Cho's voice cut through his thoughts as she batted her lashes at him, "can you help me with Massatus?"
"Of course," he replied smoothly, moving behind her and taking her right hand in his. "I would have thought you'd have used it before, with the lovely volume your hair has."
"When did you become such a flirt, Harry?" Cho giggled, while her training partner, Marietta, shot a glare in their direction. It was clear that Marietta wasn't particularly fond of him, perhaps still harboring resentment from the past.
Harry forced away the smirk that threatened to tug at his lips. Lately, he'd noticed a shift in himself—a darker, more arrogant side that seemed to relish the attention and power he wielded. Whether it was the influence of the magic he now held or the adoration from people like Cissy, he couldn't quite tell. The line between who he was and who he was becoming felt increasingly blurred.
"Well, we all grew up over the summer," he replied easily, pressing himself slightly against her as he guided her hand. "Now, for Massatus, your right hand needs to make three sharp jerks upward to form the prongs. Imagine the letter 'M,' then add half an 'M' onto it. With your left hand, push down. This is one of those rare spells where both hands are important."
As Cho adjusted her stance and cast the spell, a thick smog enveloped them, obscuring them from view. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the haze of the smoke, seemed to ignite something between them. Harry found himself turning her within his grasp, and before he could stop himself, he kissed her fiercely, his hands gripping her waist. Cho responded eagerly, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist, their moment of passion hidden from the rest of the room.
As the smoke curled away, Harry's mind continued to race. The thrill of power and control was intoxicating, but it came with a dark edge. The realization that he was walking a fine line between who he was and what he was becoming gnawed at him. He knew he was teetering on the brink of something that could consume him if he wasn't careful.
Cho's moan as he kissed her neck snapped him back to the moment. But then, he broke away abruptly. "Here's the deal," he said, his voice steady but tinged with the weight of his thoughts. "I can't risk my reputation to be with you, but if you can figure out a way for me to take you as a second wife—not Lady Potter—without destroying my rep, then I'll make it happen. Whatever it takes."
Cho bit her lip, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "I'll do what I can," she replied, though her voice wavered. "But you know whose reputation we'll have to smear to make that happen."
The name hung between them, unspoken but clear: Cedric Diggory. A good man, dead through no fault of his own. The old Harry would never have considered tarnishing Cedric's name, but now, he was caught between the remnants of his former self and the darker, more calculating side he was embracing. Tom would have scoffed at the idea of preserving the honor of the dead. To him, Cedric was a fool, a casualty of war, nothing more. Harry found himself somewhere in between, grappling with the choices he was making.
"I'd have the full support of House Chang?" he asked, his tone measured.
Cho nodded eagerly. "Libraries of obscure magic, and an open door to China, with all that she contains." She pressed closer to him, her eyes shining with determination. "I'd be a good wife, Harry. It's all I've ever wanted."
He kissed her cheek, feeling the weight of his decision settle on his shoulders. "It's a shame Diggory lost his life, but this is war. I want a wife who will do what has to be done for House Potter, for our family, no matter who gets hurt."
Cho's smile widened, the kind of smile that had made her one of Hogwarts' most popular students. "I understand."
Taking a step back, Harry straightened his clothes and then cleared the smoke with a flick of his wand, revealing a coughing Marietta and several curious onlookers. "Whoops," he said blandly, forcing a casual tone. "I guess I should have taught you all the Wind Rush Spell. The incantation is Turbinus Ventus, and the wand movement is a simple stab of the wand. Cho, great job with the smoke—see if you can teach it to Marietta."
Step into the world of BUGSHOT on P.a.t.r.e.o.n! Experience where tales unfold, magic ignites, and the future takes shape.
For exclusive support and early access to upcoming chapters, join us at BUGSHOT on P.a.t.r.e.o.n.
Note: Get the scoop a day before anyone else! Updates release on P.a.t.r.e.o.n before they hit FanFiction. Join us for free to read ahead!