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Mystique Soldier Ch.18
🕑 Added 2022-03-27 17:39:22 +0000 UTCDisclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 18— An Old Man's Woes
AN: This chapter was edited by Sedition. A huge thnx to him!
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Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore...was tired. This was proving to be one of those days that made him feel his age and appreciate everything life has to offer, while mourning the mistakes made by his less wise self.
His eyes peered inside his Pensieve absently, the memory of a young Tom Riddle slowly drowning down to the bottom.
Exactly six years ago, he'd assumed the position of the Minister of magic—his fear of Voldemort's mysterious existence dwarfing the fear of his weakness; Power.
…And the temptation of power.
Once upon a time, people had simply considered him a wise old man—holding no true interest in positions of authority...and they'd been wrong. They’d been so very wrong, even back then. The thirst for power had never truly died down in him. Even when he’d stood against Gellert, saw with his own eyes what power could do to a once honorable man...he still craved it.
He simply managed to hide it better than others. Hide it deep behind the position of Hogwarts’ Headmaster. For he knew with all his heart…he cannot be trusted with power.
Just like Gellert.
But what can one do, when forced to the extreme edge of desperation? With Harry Potter missing, and the Order of the Phoenix a mere shadow of what it once was, what was an old, tired Headmaster to do? Still blaming himself for the war that ravaged the magical Britain, weighed down by the lives of those murdered under his watch, and fearing for another spineless sycophant to lead them further down the drain, what was Albus Dumbledore to do?
The answer was revealed six years ago. Six years ago, he'd found a little bit of that old Gryffindor bravery in his heart, and he'd confronted his weakness head on; taking the position of Minister to safeguard this country from evils it was not ready to face.
To safeguard it from the mistakes that he'd himself made years ago.
After all, just like every man, Albus Dumbledore made mistakes. But unlike most men, his mistakes tended to have a higher degree of consequences.
But there were three mistakes that stood out from the rest. Three mistakes that would never stop haunting him till the rest of his short life. First was Grindelwald, and then was Voldemort…he’d once hoped that Harry Potter may prove to be his redemption, yet he proved to be his third—and the biggest—mistake of all.
Seven years ago, Albus had thought that he’d doomed the world. When he’d found the Prophecy child missing, he knew he’d made the mistake of a lifetime.
And thus he’d made the decision, swearing to atone for his mistakes. While he may not have the power to bring back the dead, he could save more from dying.
Even if he must face his weakness once again, taking up the position of ultimate authority in a country as powerful as the magical Britain.
Now? Now he doubted the legitimacy of his desperation. Was it truly for the sake of magical Britain that he took this position of absolute power? Were his intentions as pure as he'd convinced himself to be back then? Albus couldn't say. And he found himself in doubt.
Perhaps his old students were correct. Perhaps he truly was no longer worthy of their respect. What had he done in six years? Built an army that fought nothing but shadows. Built a school that pitted young children against one another. Built a country so wrought with doubt, that they'd begun distrusting the words of their own Minister.
And now, he was grasping at straws, sending men to every corner of Britain, hoping to find his old student-turned-enemy.
But that search was proving to be as much of a failure as his search for Harry Potter had been.
‘Mayhaps I’ve grown too old for this.’
Suddenly his Phoenix chirped from his perch, the calm reassuring trill of his fiery friend making his heart lighter.
"Do you think, Fawkes?" He asked, "That he may come to us on his own? Just like our young friend has?"
Again, the beautiful Phoenix sang in assurance and his day brightened up just a little.
He was worrying too much. Harry Potter was here, and he'd come prepared. Ready for a war he knew nothing about.
And the prophecy was already coming true.
“The power he knows not...”
Albus had always assumed it to be something mysterious or abstract. Something as deep and unexplainable as love. Something that Tom had never known, and would no doubt underestimate. Wonderful in its mystery, terrible in its wrath, and powerful in its might. But perhaps the prophecy meant something much more direct than that. Yes, Albus acknowledged he may just have been wrong all along. After all, Albus Dumbledore was, and always has been, a hopeless romantic.
Perhaps, by power, the prophecy was being quite literal. Eyes that shot green flames maybe? Or hands that broke through steel? The muggle movies had very interesting powers, and he was making sure to get familiar with every single one of them. Though he doubted Harry would like to fly with a red underwear and skin-tight blue suit.
‘Hmm...the boy already has super strength and speed, and if Severus is to be believed, is a wizard with far greater potential than his 'Worthless father'.’
A truly high praise, coming from the young man.
Still, perhaps it was time he gave some personal guidance to the boy. His childhood was already ruined, if Hawley of the World Security Council was to be believed. He mustn't make the same mistakes he'd made with Tom Riddle. It was time Albus learned to trust. This might even give him some idea on Harry's 'Power'. May it be his ability as a natural Occlumens, or his super physique, or his unnatural growth, or...as muggles like to say, his sheer badassery.
Albus would need to do some more... research. Indeed, it totally wasn't for his own amusement or entertainment. Muggle movies were a vital source of information to crack the prophecy. Anyone who said otherwise was simply not as wise as him.
"What's next on my schedule?" He wondered, browsing through the dirty brown diary. "Curse my old socks! I may have just forgotten about this entirely. Meeting with a World Security Member...well, if nothing else, they do provide a sufficient source of amusement. Wouldn't you agree with me, Fawkes?"
The bird trilled cautiously.
"You don't think a few fireworks for our guests might go terribly wrong do you? No, I don't think so either. It is to only impress them after all. I do so love them clapping and cheering for me. So here's what I want you to do, old friend..."
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Dear Harry,
Sorry for not replying the past couple of days, the Minister's been driving us nuts. He's been on edge for the last month or so, and I've been thinking about leaving the Aurors department altogether. Even a potential change to the Hit-Wizard Corps is not worth all this hassle. That Merlin-damned man is just too paranoid for his own good. I used to look up to him, you know? Back in the days when the Order was just a vigilante group, instead of this special guard-force it is now. And Dumbledore was just a good old headmaster, rather than the political powerhouse that he is now.
Anyway, sorry for that rant. Your question brought up some old memories, though none relating to any secret rooms confirmed to be made by the founders I'm afraid. I do remember some vague rumors, but we never really got any evidence to prove their validity. Regardless, I've compiled a list of places that I think might be more than what they seem, though you can be the judge of that.
1) Room of Rewards (Password is Vindictive Viridian)
2) Hogwarts Kitchen (was rumored to be created by Helga Hufflepuff)
3) Headmaster’s office (There are statues of Griffins guarding the entrance. Hint hint)
4) Chamber of Secrets (I have my reasons to believe this may exist in actuality, though we never found any proof. But there have been cases about mysterious monster attacks in the castle, the recent one being around the time Hogwarts’ current gamekeeper was expelled.)
5) Shrieking Shack—this one's not a Founder's room, but if you want some peace and quiet away from the castle, follow the secret path below the Whooping Willow. To reveal the hidden passage you'll have to press a knot at the base of the tree. It's not on our map so be careful. Ask Remus, he'll explain it better. Oh, and keep away from it during a full moon. (Ask Remus again)
Anyway, that's all I have currently, hopefully it’s enough. If I remember something else I'll write back to you ASAP. Take care and feel free to reply.
Lots of love,
James
Finished reading, Harry folded back the letter with a frown.
Why was this quest so difficult? Truly, everything in his life was going unrealistically smooth for now—the teachers adored him, his violence was often overlooked, people were beginning to claim him as the second coming of Merlin, and the news of him being the youngest Seeker in centuries had taken over the castle with a storm.
It was only this quest that was a right pain in the arse.
One would think the real challenge would be clearing the dungeons, not finding them. Now he would have to do some more hunting...though at least it wouldn't be as aimless as before.
‘Tempus’
It was barely past eleven in the night, a perfect time to roam the castle as long as he didn’t encounter Filch. His stamina was almost full, and so he felt no particular need for sleep tonight.
The Dorm was dimly lit, the only glowing source being the small lamp sitting on his table.
Quickly changing from his night clothes, Harry donned a simple black tunic and matching pants, shoving the nightwear back in his multi-compartment trunk. Within a minute or two—with his wand in one hand and the Marauder's Map in the other—he was ready for his nightly activities.
"Harry..." Suddenly a voice hissed out from the bed beside his own, and Harry whirled around instantly, his version of magical shield snapping into existence at once…
Only for his eyes to fall upon the startled figure of Ron peering up at him wide-eyed.
"Woah, I didn’t know you could do that!" Ron whispered in awe, scanning the shield with fascination before pulling himself together. "Umm…anyway, I was just wondering if...well, if I can come with you..."
Harry grunted in annoyance, dropping the shield. "How long have you been awake?"
"Never really slept, mate. I was kinda waiting for you to...ah, you know...get up."
Harry frowned, his wand still pointing at the boy. "Why?"
"What do you mean 'why'? To come with you on this treasure hunt of course!" The boy exclaimed excitedly. "I saw you leaving the dormitory two nights ago. You were gone for an hour or so. I wanted to ask you but I was so-o-o sleepy that I forgot. Anyways, can I come?"
"No, you may not." Harry denied, absently wondering if he should stun the boy—though it served no purpose. "Do you truly think I will waste my time hunting imaginary treasures?"
"Oh." The boy's face fell. "Well, I thought...Oh. Where do you go then?"
"That does not concern—” Harry stopped himself mid-rebuttal, tilting his head as the idea suddenly took hold.
‘Wouldn't searching for hidden rooms be easier with two people? Even if Ron proves to be completely incompetent, looking for hidden panels or doors was something he could surely do.’
Harry’s mind whirled through any threats or complications it may present, but aside from Ron crowing about their rule-breaking to the teachers, he could think of no instance where the decision may come back to bite him in the ass.
Unless, of course, Ron proved to be incompetent enough that he becomes more hindrance than help. But the competence of an eleven-year-old’s detective skill was unknown to him, so he couldn’t rightly judge.
"I-It's fine if you don't want to tell me." Ron sniffed dejectedly.
"Don't be dramatic." Harry frowned, leaning down. "I'm exploring the castle for hidden rooms, think you can help me?"
"Of course!" The boy cheered up instantly. "D’you even need to ask?"
"Quietly!" Harry whispered harshly. "Don't wake anyone, and don't catch Filch’s attention. Or Peeves’."
The boy nodded with a thumbs up, zipping his lips with the other hand.
In the next few minutes, Harry quickly explained the Marauder’s Map to Ron, made him change into dark clothes, threatened him with death or worse upon failure—though he had a feeling Ron took it less seriously than Harry intended—and finally started their journey again.
Their first stop was the Room of Rewards on the third floor.
"But isn't that out of bounds?" Ron whispered.
"So are we. I doubt that should be your concern anymore."
Seconds passed to minutes in silence as they quietly made their way down from the seventh floor, passing through multiple corridors—avoiding traps and tickling the doors open—before finally reaching the Grand Staircase. Even at night, the staircases were still actively moving. They had to climb down and wait upon the stable platforms each time for the correct staircase to arrive—until finally they climbed down the last one that brought them to the third floor.
"This is so exciting!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes flickering around like a village idiot visiting a city, as they passed through the third floor corridors.
"Be quiet." Harry snapped, tilting his head as he concentrated. “Can you hear that?”
They both stopped and listened to the unquestionable sound of footsteps.
"He must be here somewhere, dear." Filch's scratchy voice growled from the next door. "He's always out at this time."
A cat meowed.
"Yes, yes of course! He's not getting away tonight, dear. Oh no, he's not."
Harry pulled Ron back as Filch started to open the door.
"C’mon." He dragged him into a different hallway, passing by the trophy room as he studied the map for another path to the Room of Rewards. "We'll take the long way."
The map guided them through a relatively peaceful route with little to no traps or obstacles on their way.
Unfortunately, the Room of Rewards turned out to be another red herring. At least, he took his system's silence as a sign of failure. Of course, his conclusion was based on the assumption that the system would inform him when he finally found a dungeon, or was close to it.
Perhaps his assumption was wrong. But how exactly would he find the dungeon then? If the system gave him no signs, how would he even know if he found one?
‘Maybe I should search the whole damned castle.’
Annoyance welled up in him at the prospect of another time-consuming task that may end up in failure.
Still, giving up was not his style. Plus with its mysterious entrance, Harry was hoping for something worthwhile, even if it turned out not to be a dungeon.
So he followed the map’s guidance and tapped the large portrait of the bald man with his wand, intoning clearly. “Vindictus Viridian.”
The next instance the portrait swung inside, revealing an open doorway to enter—which they promptly did.
The Room of Rewards looked much less impressive than it sounded. Instead of being filled with trophies or such, it was littered with bundles of pages stacked along multiple tables. The only unusual thing about it was its shape, as instead of a regular boxed room, its walls curved up like a tunnel slightly, making a half ‘U’.
"Ron, search for any hidden passages behind those paper towers." Harry instructed, realizing how likely it was to find hidden rooms in here.
"...tickle anything that looks suspicious, and if you see anything vaguely human, politely request it to reveal its secrets." He finished, thinking up all the absurd ways a door can be opened in Hogwarts.
"On it, mate!" Ron gave an awkward salute and scrambled to follow.
In the end however, it turned out to be another dud.
They searched uselessly for a long time, and with every passing second Harry became more and more assured that this was nothing but another half-an-hour of wasted time.
The stacked pages only had rough info on the people who'd been rewarded by Hogwarts over the centuries. Learning about some random Jacob and Maxim Sibling wasn't what he had in mind when he came here.
Still... Sibling. What an odd surname.
"Hey, Harry." Ron suddenly called out, his voice echoing across the room. "Isn't Hagrid the school's groundskeeper? I didn't know he was expelled from Hogwarts."
The name rang a bell in his head.
‘Didn't James say something about the Chambers of Secrets being opened when the groundskeeper was expelled?’
Harry ruthlessly crushed down the faint beginnings of hope.
‘Nope. Not ready for another disappointment yet.’
"Bring me the page, Ron."
"Hmm? Oh yeah, I have it here."
The parchment that Ron delivered had mere basics about a story involving a student named Tom Riddle, who managed to save Hogwarts from some 'Mysterious beast' that no one knew about, though some claimed it to be Slytherin’s monster. In the end, Riddle managed to uncover 'Evil giant' Hagrid's 'Evil' plans and saved the castle. But no evidence was provided, save for the fact that Hagrid carried with him an Acromantula. But some called it a hoax, due to the fact that the victims of the attacks were either petrified, or killed cleanly. No injuries were ever seen, and not a drop of poison was ever found.
"Ron." Harry called out again.
"Yeah?"
"Your brother is a beast master, is he not?"
"Wha–?...No, mate. My brother's a Dragon tamer. What’s a beast master anyway?"
"Same thing. Ask him if an Acromantula can petrify or kill its victims without leaving any signs or injuries."
"Sure. Why, though? Is that case connected to what you are searc–"
"Ooh, what do we have here?" They were suddenly interrupted by a high pitched squeaky voice, making Harry quickly turn around with his hand raised. But all he found was a tiny Poltergeist hanging in midair.
"Ickle firsties out of bed. What fun, what fun." Peeves cackled madly, his hands clutching his stomach.
His eyes then zeroed in on Harry, squinting slightly. "I know you! Ooh, you're that boy, aren't you? Out again to have some fun? Should tell Filch, I should. It's for your own good, your own good I say!"
That…could be a problem.
"Stay quiet, Peeves." Harry said, quickly rearranging the papers back to their original position.
"Ickle Potter wants me to be quietsie?" The Poltergeist giggled. "Say please then I mightsie!"
At this point, he would've already tried to see if the Cruciatus worked on ghosts or not, but Ron's presence complicated some things.
"Alright, we’re done here.” Harry muttered, tugging Ron along. “Come on."
"Can't go without saying please! Say please and I shan't scream!"
"Get out of the way, you dumb ghost." Ron swatted him aside.
And with malicious schadenfreude, Peeves opened his mouth wide, eliciting a sigh from Harry as he realized what was to come.
"CHILDREN OUT OF THE DORMITORIES!" The ghost hollered on top of his voice. "FIRSTIES OUT OF BOUNDS! FIRSTIES BREAKING RULES DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
Cursing, Harry started to run as if hell was upon them. His annoyance spiked even more when he found Ron running like a turtle taking a leisure walk.
Harry stopped, then turned back—took hold of Ron’s shirt—and dragged him along.
"Where!? Where are they Peeves?" Filch bellowed behind them.
"Get in.” He pushed the redhead inside one of the corridors, shooting a quick Alohomora to open the door at the very end, and dragged them both inside in hopes of losing the infuriating caretaker and his ruddy cat.
For a few minutes they stayed still, struggling to hear the man’s mutterings.
Harry didn’t know if they’d lost him completely or not, but he wasn’t willing to take chances. McGonagall had strictly confined his nightly walks to stay around the Gryffindor tower. He did not wish to lose that special permission—even though he did break it every night.
"H-Harry..." Ron whimpered behind him. He would've snapped at the boy but the sheer terror in his voice made him turn around.
"Oh.” Harry half-frowned; one eyebrow climbing up, one arching down. “That’s a big dog".
What he thought of as an abandoned room in an empty corridor wasn't, in fact, abandoned. Instead, it looked to be someone's home. Or perhaps a prison.
Its occupant? A massive three-headed dog, towering over them with a tilted head; sniffing in surprise. Its paws were the size of Harry’s torso, lazily laid upon a trapped door as it stared down at them, drool hanging out of all three enormous jaws as it started growling—getting over their unexpected entrance.
Clearly, he did not appreciate their intrusion. What a surprise.
"We’re leaving.” Harry stated, more to the dog rather than Ron.
Then, with a last solemn nod at the three heads, he clasped upon Ron’s shoulder and quickly got out of the room, just in time for the three heads to devolve into furious barking.
They didn't stop running until they reached their dorms again.
"Merlin's beard, Harry." Ron exclaimed, plopping himself on the bed. "That was wild!"
"Clearly." Harry rolled his eyes. "I doubt anyone will domesticate it."
"Not the dog! Well…that too, but the entire trip was wild! Like an adventure that they talk about in books. The sort they said you always went to."
"I assure you Ron…" Harry drawled out, removing his nightwear from the trunk. "This was very much my first time meeting a dog like that."
Ron snickered, then kept snickering until he broke down in gales of laughter, before slapping his mouth to stop from waking the other boys.
"Oh...mate," The boy shook his head. "That was fun. We should do that again."
"No.” Harry said, quickly getting changed. "We have the Dueling tournament this week."
In actuality though, Harry simply had no intention of taking Ron with him again.
"Oh yeah.” The redhead yawned, ignorant of his thoughts. “Wonder how that will go. Anyways, good night Harry. I'm so bloody tired..."
Harry hummed. "Goodnight."
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The next few days blurred ahead in a fixed routine for Harry. And contrary to his expectations, the rumor mill did not spread the news of the thrashing he’d delivered to McLaggen. Apparently Wood was doing his best to keep the matter all hush hush and avoid trouble for Harry.
Something he appreciated.
His magical studies, on the other hand, continued at a fast pace, and his spell repertoire increased with each passing day. By now he had no doubts that he’d be done with the second year syllabus this very month.
Magical Skills-
Occlumency (Lvl 17)
Mana Sense (Lvl 25)
Mana Manipulation (Lvl 47)
Charms (16)
Transfiguration (2)
Potions (2)
Dark Arts (9)
His Charms and Dark Arts repertoire made up the bulk of his spells, seeming to leave the other subjects in the dust. But in reality, most of these spells were quite lackluster. There were almost half a dozen utterly useless spells that he would very likely never use.
Locomotor Wibbly, for instance, turned an opponent's legs to jelly in order to incapacitate them. But why would he waste his time in pronouncing a six syllable spell when he could just shoot a quick Stupefy? Same thing for Petrificus Totalus, Alarte Ascendare, or Locomotor Mortis. Sure, there was a chance that at level 100 they might grant him some absurdly overpowered ability, but he simply did not have the time or patience for that. Not right now. He had much more vital tasks to complete.
For instance, the Junior Dueling Tournament, which soon started officially. There was to be a total of 7 rounds, with all 128 participants competing. That morning, the first round matches were written on the notice boards for all to see. Harry's opponent turned out to be a third year Ravenclaw named Roger Davies.
"Opponents?” Harry asked his group.
"Daphne Greengrass." Ron groaned. "We saw her duel last time. I don't think I'll win this."
"But you will still try?" Harry asked, a brow raised.
"Of course, mate! I remember my lesson alright."
"My opponent is Cormac McLaggen." Andrea announced. "You guys know who that is?"
Ron snickered. "Oh, we know alright. And I'm sure he'll remember your name Harry. You did beat up his brother."
Harry raised a brow. “Cormac McLaggen…the one who gave Keeper’s trial?”
"Yeah, and he somehow saved the highest goals." Ron grouched. "I bet he cheated."
They turned to Hermione but the girl left them with an upturned nose, without speaking a word. Neville looked after her uncertainly but decided to stick with them.
Harry shrugged, unconcerned.
"Come." He beckoned his group, "Let's eat some food. We will need it for today."
When they reached the Great Hall, he didn't see his midget twin at the table, or any Slytherins for that matter.
‘Probably still checking their own list.’
"Heyya Harrykins."
"Hello there, Your Majesty."
Twin voices spoke out one after the other. He didn't stop piling his plate with food as Fred and George took seats in front of them.
"Heard you are entering the tournament." The left twin started.
"And as your obedient slaves, it is our duty to inform you of some things." The right one continued.
"Well said, Gred." Left one patted the right one. "Lord Harry-Who-Lived can count on us for anything he needs."
"Quite right, brother dear." Right one nodded proudly.
Unimpressed, Harry took a quick glance at their names to confirm their identity. "Go on then. Fill my ears with your wisdom."
Both of them lost their goofy smiles, leaning forward in a moment of seriousness.
"The first thing you need to know about this tournament is that it's very important." Fred said.
"Not in itself, of course." George took over. "It doesn't matter if you win or lose in this tournament."
"But," Fred cut in. "Your future will depend on which team you are selected in."
"That is, if you actually do get selected."
Harry gave them a half-lidded stare. "Explain from the beginning.”
"Of course, Your majesty." Fred smirked. "Lupin probably told you, but the dueling tournaments are divided in two parts; one for Juniors, which you will take part in today, and another for Seniors, which is the most important."
George leaned forward. "You see, senior dueling doesn't involve just one-on-one matches. You fight in a team."
Fred took over. "A total of twenty teams participate in a year-long tournament, where the first place prize is the full access to the greatest–"
"The grandest–"
"The most amazing–"
"One and only..."
And then both stood up, spreading their hands wide in air.
"The Room of Requirement." Both uttered in perfect synchronization.
As soon as he heard the name, his thoughts jumped to the dungeons.
‘But surely not...’
The twins sat down again, looking as excited as playful puppies.
"A room that could change into anything you want,"
"Could become anything you need,"
"Could help locate your deepest wish..."
"And help you fulfill it to completion!"
Harry suppressed his rising expectations, clearing his throat to ask the most vital question. "Who made it?"
The question caught the two off-guard. “Pardon, Majesty?”
“The creator. Which founder created it?”
"Well...I think Ravenclaw...they always whine about the room being their ‘house-right’. Why does it matter?"
This has to be it. This room...it ticked off all the points. He'd always thought the dungeons would be somewhere completely secretive, away from public eyes and all that. But that was foolish. The system never specified anything like that.
"How do you enter it?"
"Like we said, it is exclusive to only the winning team."
"Not even teachers are allowed to enter."
"The Minister made that rule when he was still a headmaster here."
"And how do you get in a team?” Harry asked, now at the edge of his seat.
"That, little Majesty, is why we are here."
"You see, we've been thinking of creating a team of our own,"
"And it's looking fantastic till now."
"He, me, Angelina, Alicia, Katie–"
"And of course, our dear leader, Wood."
"We're just missing a single member."
"Seven are needed to create a team, you see?"
"Normally members are invited by evaluating students through junior dueling tournaments."
"But we are willing to make an exception. See, we thought why not complete our quidditch team and just invite you in."
"And of course because you took down McLaggen like a child."
"Even though that was pure muggle fighting."
"Still very impressive."
"Oh yes, very."
That... was quite a bit to take in.
"Hey, how come you're not inviting me?" Ron suddenly whined from the side.
"Oh, Ronnikins."
"All grown up and itching to fight."
"But you still have a little more growing up to do."
"A little more hairs,"
"A little more freckles,"
"A little more cheek,"
"And a little more chuckles."
The twins laughed away together, leaving their smaller brother red with confused anger.
"Think about our offer, Harrykins!" They called out.
"We'll see you later, Your majesty!"
After the twins drifted away, they proceeded with the rest of their day as usual. Snape took a surprise Occlumency lesson, and Harry was able to level up the skill once more.
Occlumency, he'd come to realize, was a much more useful ability than he'd thought at first. Perhaps even as useful as Legilimency—which had always been his main goal of practicing the Mind Arts.
Not only could Occlumency perform the usual tasks of his Gamer's Mind—maximizing concentration, shielding the mind etc—but it can also grant an almost perfect memory once mastered. Plus, it didn't suppress emotions like Gamer's Mind. It just controlled them to an extreme degree, which further helped in fueling one’s spell with intent and emotions.
Unfortunately, even at level 18, he still couldn't enter his own mind like Snape described.
But the thoughts of Occlumency soon left his mind when the last class of the day ended.
It was time for some wand combat.
The Dueling Tournament was held, once again, in the Great Hall. Only this time, instead of a thin & long platform, there was a ten meters wide square-shaped stage marked with exotic signs that emitted magic.
Lupin called them 'Runes', made for the protection of spectators from any wild spell.
Once again the four house benches were removed, and replacing them was a curved line of seats surrounding the stage, numerous enough to accommodate all the participants and other spectators. Unfortunately, it was compulsory for the participants to sit according to their houses, preventing him from dragging his sister over.
More than a hundred people were gathered in the Great Hall when they entered, crowding around the main stage like ants around a cube of sugar. A very massive cube of sugar.
"There's no way for us to win the tournament, is there?" Ron asked, disheartened. "All those third years would whoop our arses."
"Not mine." Andrea proclaimed proudly. "My dad's been teaching me to fight since I was seven. These boys and girls wouldn't know what hit ‘em."
"What do you mean, teach you?" Ron asked, confused. "We aren't allowed to use a wand till Hogwarts."
The change from loud-mouthed bravado to wide-eyed guilt on Andrea's face got a snort out of Harry.
"That was very reckless of your father." Hermione’s admonishing voice suddenly broke out from behind. "And unfair to muggleborns."
"I thought you weren’t speaking to us?" Andrea snapped, annoyed. "Please, don’t start now. It’s better that way."
“Silence.” Harry cut off Hermione’s retort as Lupin took the stage, Snape and Flitwick by his side.
"Everyone’s here? No one's backing away? Good, good. The names I call will quickly join me on stage. I, along with Professors Flitwick and Snape, will be refereeing for this event. Just some instructions that you all must abide by, before we start this event—“
He twirled his wand mid-speech, and his following words started materializing mid-air in glowing orange flashes beside him.
“First, you and your opponent shall duel for three rounds, and each time the winner will earn a single point. The one with the most points shall win the match.”
“Second, if you lose your wand, you will lose the round. If you are incapacitated for more than five seconds, you lose the round. If you are knocked unconscious, you lose the round. And of course, if I say you lose the round, you lose the round.”
“Third, when I call for the match to end, you will instantly stop attacking. Anyone found attacking a downed opponent will be disqualified immediately. Now with that said, let's start this year’s Junior Dueling Tournament!"
The first match was between Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff and Graham Montague of Slytherin, and Harry was quite interested to see the senior students fight.
Graham Montague
Age: 12
Level: 15
Cedric Diggory
Age: 13
Level: 24
From the start, it became clear that both the Duelers were on an entirely different level than the first years. Graham opened the fight with a Knockback Jinx, showing his practice with the spell as he cast it with no extra wand movements.
Diggory seemed utterly unconcerned however, calmly leaning forward to let the spell fly overhead.
"Expelliarmus!" Graham tried to keep up the pressure, firing the jet of red with deadly accuracy.
However, Diggory's form was impeccable. He quickly leaned away again, his movements short and precise.
And then he bellowed, casting a spell for the first time, "Stupefy!"
The jet of red flew towards Montague faster than anything he’d cast. The boy tried to imitate Diggory, but even as he dodged the spell, Harry could spot the imperfections in his form—his balance shaky and feet barely keeping from a stumble. While definitely above any first year, Montague looked quite a novice in this match. Diggory had a clear upper hand from the start.
And yet, Harry remained a little…unimpressed. While both showed a clearly superior mastery of spells, he was hoping to see some more movement from the senior students. And yet, they stayed stuck to their stop like stationary targets.
That became even clearer in their next few exchanges. While both of them weaved around the spells with practiced movements—and Montague was definitely being put on defense—the entire duel took place on a thin strip of the stage, making the rest redundant. Neither of them moved from their place aside from a stumble or two, almost like they didn’t know how to move while dueling.
Either that, or there was some obscure dueling rule to restrict the participants movements that Harry hadn’t bothered reading.
The first round soon came to an end when Diggory launched a series of spells rapidly.
"Stupefy–Flippendo–Diffindo–Discutio!"
The barrage of spells came to a sudden end when the last spell managed to pop open Montague’s Protego shield—which he’d created to not be overwhelmed by Diggory’s rapid casting—like a balloon.
And then Cedric finished the tired boy off with a last 'Stupefy', sending him into the lands of unconsciousness.
"The point goes to Cedric Diggory!" Lupin announced from the side.
"That was nuts!" Ron exclaimed beside him. "Complete madness!"
Andrea was quiet, her mouth wide open in shock.
Similar reactions seemed to range through the crowd, but amongst the exclaiming, wide-eyed faces was the frowning visage of Harry.
While the rapid chain of spells had managed to impress him a bit, the lack of any movement was quite upsetting.
He hoped that Davies wasn't like Cedric. No matter how impressive their magic may be, Harry wouldn’t be able to hold himself back too much—as was his plan—if his opponents simply acted like stationary target boards.
…Unless he received an especially good quest. In which case he must control his urges to bully his enemies.
Whatever happens, hopefully it will be interesting.
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AN: Finished! A little late, as we were editing it till the last moment, but anyways. Hope all of you enjoyed!
Next up you'll get the dueling tournament and quite a bit of action.
Anyway that's all for today, let me know your thoughts on the chapter below.
I'll see you all in tomorrow's post. Till then, stay safe, take care, and peace!
Comments
Lastresort
Can we have another paring poll, please! I really wanted captain Carter to win last time.
Gilgamos
Thanks for the chapter
