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0620 The Duel End (LARGE-CHAPTER)
🕑 Added 2025-02-05 10:33:32 +0000 UTCThe thick, obscuring fog finally dissipated, revealing Malfoy to everyone in the classroom.
Harry, who had been frustrated and provoked by Malfoy's tactics for what felt like an eternity, jumped to his feet from the hard-stone floor. His hair thrashed wildly, disheveled by the fierce gusts of wind howling through the shattered window, but he paid it no mind.
He charged directly at Malfoy like an enraged lion in raw ferocity. His impulsive momentum was so great that for a fleeting instant, Malfoy wondered if the provoked Potter intended to abandon magic completely and engage him in a brutish physical brawl. After all, in their heated first- and second-year rivalries, schoolyard scuffles and thrown punches had often been the means by which they expressed their mutual enmity and brought their frequent conflicts to an ungraceful resolution.
However, Draco swiftly dismissed such a rude notion. After enduring Professor Watson's strict teaching and grueling drills for countless hours, resorting to barbaric fistfights would be both an unjustifiable breach of decorum and an insult—not only to themselves, but to Professor Watson as well.
As expected, Harry stopped less than twenty feet away from Malfoy. He didn't intend to solve the problem with his bare hands, but to prevent Malfoy from playing any more despicable tricks. At this distance, with his speed, he could close in on Malfoy within a second.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
If their prior duel had been akin to a light drizzle or gentle breeze, then this latest exchange was a raging monsoon, an absolute hurricane of wandwork and incantations. The intensity was staggering to look at.
Both of them abandoned all pretense of cunning maneuvers or elaborate tactics, instead threw themselves wholeheartedly into the fight with a single-minded focus on overwhelming speed. Only the most rudimentary and instinctive of spells were used—any charm or curse that could be cast with an efficient flick or sharp snap of the wrist. The quickness of their wandwork was so great that their arms seemed to blur, leaving afterimages hanging in the air as they dueled.
Inducing, dodging, exhausting, and pressuring the opponent's survival space!
This was a grand competition of dueling skills learned in Professor Watson's physical education class. Rather than hoping their spells would defeat the opponent, the two were more intent on forcing the other party to expose flaws and defeat themselves.
The spell lights released by Harry and Draco flew around the room. The explosions and flames were like someone had lit a string of firecrackers.
Pansy and Astoria shrunk behind a suit of armor, to avoid being caught in the dazzling crossfire. Hermione, demonstrating admirable presence of mind, seized a gawking Ron by the collar and unceremoniously dragged him to shelter behind another of the armors.
Wide-eyed with disbelief, Ron struggled to process the ferocious display unfolding before him. Was this really a duel between young wizards, not a magic contest between Aurors of the Ministry of Magic?
The blistering exchange lasted a mere ten seconds, but in that span the flow of the duel shifted in Harry's favor. The indomitable courage that burned within his veins banished all traces of fear or hesitation. More than that, it ignited a spark of exhilaration in his chest, a fierce joy that sent his heart racing and brought an unconscious grin to his lips.
Bloodshot lines crept across the whites of his eyes as he lost himself in the savage thrill of the confrontation, in the pure adrenaline rush that sang through him like a phoenix's song. In that instant, he felt a soaring sense of invincibility, the same intoxicating euphoria that had gripped him when he soared across the pitch and raised the Quidditch Cup in triumph.
In any contest between equals, between wizards evenly matched, momentum was key. The intangible tide of the duel, the elusive flow of confidence and advantage, could shift on the smallest of aspects—and it had indeed shifted.
The physical distance between Harry and Draco decreased with each passing second, reaching the point where they could touch each other with two big strides. At such close ranges, evasion became nigh impossible. Stray curses hissed past Draco's cheeks, the sizzling heat of their passage eliciting flinches he could not quite suppress. Dread began to settle in his gut like a heavy weight.
"It's over, Malfoy!" Harry roared, his voice cutting through the crackling noise like a thunderclap. The fear gradually seeping into Draco's eyes could not be hidden from Harry.
Even through the haze of his growing panic, Draco could not mistake the conviction in Harry's words. Terror seeped into his gray eyes, the fear he had managed to keep at bay now bled through the fracturing facade of his expressionless face. For Draco, that instant of vulnerability, of weakness laid bare, was the ringing of a funeral knell.
Harry lunged, and a tilt of his head let a wild curse to scorch several strands of his hair as he launched himself forward in an explosive burst of coiled strength. His outstretched left hand clamped down on Draco's wrist in an iron grip, immobilizing Malfoy's wand arm, even as he brought his own wand stabbing forward like a dagger. The glowing tip stopped an inch from the bridge of Malfoy's nose, so close that Draco's eyes crossed subconsciously trying to focus on it.
Just as Harry drew breath to proclaim his victory, he saw Draco's ashen face twist in a grin that was equal parts terror and savage delight.
"It's not over yet, Potter," Draco called, his voice thin sounding strained to Harry's ears.
In a motion so swift it nearly fled his perception, Draco released his grip on his own wand, allowing it to tumble from his nerveless fingers. With his wrist still locked in Harry's grasp, he used his new leverage to seize a fist of Harry's robes.
Hermione, momentarily paralyzed by the suddenness of Draco's move, abruptly found her voice. She leapt out from behind the suit of armor, and shouted in horror.
"Harry, behind you!"
Hiss--
Harry didn't turn his head, but upon hearing this chilling hiss, an image automatically popped into his mind.
A venomous black python slithered out from the belly of the armor behind him, slowly climbing up the helmet. It coiled up its body, revealing its fangs, sticking out its scarlet forked tongue, and staring coldly at his neck.
Harry's face turned pale. He immediately understood that this poisonous snake hidden in the armor's belly was probably brought out by Malfoy before the black fog dissipated. He had been commanding this snake to hide, just for this moment!
Whoosh!
A black shadow streaked across the space, leaving an afterimage. Harry immediately felt a weight on his shoulder, and then a chill on the side of his face!
Seeing the venomous snake standing on Harry's shoulder, Hermione and Ron were so frightened that they forgot to breathe, just staring blankly at the scene.
"Checkmate, Potter!" Malfoy's exclamation was tinged with hysteria, his voice cracking beneath the strain of his incredulity.
Draco's pale cheeks flushed red, and his gray eyes revealed wild joy. This wasn't the minor fights he had with Potter before, but a real victory in a genuine confrontation!
The black python bared its hideous fangs. Harry could even smell the fishy odor from the mouth of this poisonous snake on his shoulder. His nerves were jumping frantically, instinctively warning him of the consequences if he was bitten!
'Losing to Malfoy in a duel?' This thought appeared in Harry's mind, and then Harry completely crushed it and threw it aside. He was unwilling to endure such humiliation!
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," The bloodshot lines crawled back into Harry's pupils. He stared fiercely at the gloating Malfoy.
"I believe that you're the one forgetting something, Malfoy."
Draco's smile froze for a second, then he narrowed his eyes and lowered his face. The black python, sensing his mood, pressed even closer to Harry's cheek. Harry could even feel the moist breath spewing from the snake's mouth.
"Are you putting on a brave face, Potter, or do you not understand the situation?"
Draco said coldly,
"I can take your life at any time. Oh, the Dark Lord must have made a terrible mistake back then to let you escape by luck!"
"Then you'll have to go ask Voldemort himself what he got wrong!"
Harry said firmly.
"And, I certainly know the current situation, but the question is, have you overlooked something, Malfoy?"
Harry slightly shook his wand tip, his voice revealing a sharpness and determination.
"I'm still holding my wand, Malfoy. Unless your snake can make me die instantly, otherwise, I'm afraid you won't survive either!"
"You don't have the guts, Potter. You're just trying to scare me!"
The name of the Dark Lord made Draco shudder. Before he could scold Potter, Potter's next words made his eyes reveal a sinister look.
"Oh, is that so? That's what you think?" Harry immediately said, "Then why don't you try and see!"
"Don't do this, Harry!"
The other people in the classroom - Pansy, Astoria, Ron, Hermione - were all stunned by what was happening. Wasn't this supposed to be a duel? How did it suddenly turn into a life-and-death struggle?!
Hermione was the first to come to her senses. She shouted in a breakdown and was about to rush up to pull apart the entangled Harry and Malfoy. However, the moment she took a step--
Clang!
The classroom door suddenly burst open with a loud bang. The door opened and a figure staggered into the classroom.
Neville rubbed his arm and muttered as he climbed up. The impact on the door panel just now made him a little dizzy, so much so that a few seconds after standing up, he realized that he was not the only one in this classroom.
And the moment he saw the situation clearly, Neville, whose cheeks had become much gaunter than in his first and second years, fell into a daze. The shock even made his eyes bulge out of their sockets!
Silence, stillness--
Except for the crackling sound of the torches swayed by the cold wind, no one spoke. Even Hermione, who was about to separate Harry and Malfoy, was left baffled by Neville's unexpected entrance.
"I twisted the doorknob for a long time but couldn't open it. I thought the door was broken, so I rammed in."
Under everyone's gaze, Neville put away his comical expression and said sheepishly, "Did I interrupt you guys?"
Neville tried his utmost to conceal his embarrassment and the intense pressure from the numerous gazes focused upon him, but despite his best efforts, his eyes couldn't resist drifting towards the spectacle of Harry and Malfoy.
He observed the two of them intertwined in a fierce struggle, with Harry's wand pressed against Malfoy's temple, while a fierce, hissing viper crouched threateningly on Harry's shoulder. As a seasoned "veteran" of the Physical Education class, it didn't require much deduction for Neville to ascertain to whom that viper belonged.
"You couldn't possibly be--" Neville stammered, his words trailing off as the cold wind continued to gust through the shattered windows, causing the torches on the classroom walls to flicker and sway wildly. The temperature in the room had plummeted, but in the span of a mere half minute, Neville found himself drenched in sweat, his body trembling slightly. He faced Hermione; his wide eyes focused on the two fighting boys.
"It can't be that you're actually--" Neville began again, his voice trembling with disbelief and trepidation.
Hermione inhaled deeply, a look of utter exasperation and resolution appearing on her face. With a look of "I've had enough", she turned and strode towards Harry and Malfoy with big steps.
"Get your viper off Harry's shoulder this instant, Malfoy. This ends now!" Hermione said commandingly.
Hermione first grabbed Harry's wand (Harry hesitated for a moment but didn't say anything). Then, she fixed Malfoy with an intense stare, her brown eyes seemed to flash with a dangerous light.
Under the intensity of Hermione's gaze, Draco averted his eyes as if scorched, unable to maintain eye contact. He darted a quick glance at Harry, and his nostrils flared with a hint of reluctance.
Smack!
The sharp sound reverberated through the room as Draco fiercely slapped Harry's hand away with his free hand, breaking their physical contact. He bent down swiftly to retrieve his fallen wand, then waved it at the summoned black python with a flourish. Instantly, the serpent dissipated into wispy tendrils of green smoke, vanishing into thin air.
This marked the first occasion that the students in Bryan's Physical Education class had engaged in a formal duel, but unexpectedly, it was a case of "infighting" amongst themselves. Fortunately, despite the inherent danger, the duel did not result in grave injury to either of the involved parties. If judged purely on the basis of victory, Draco could be said to have emerged triumphant by a razor-thin margin. However, in terms of the life-and-death stakes at play, the confrontation concluded in a draw.
"Mind your tongue, Longbottom!" Draco hissed venomously as he brushed past Neville, giving him a cold, condescending glare and casually dropping the scathing remark. He then promptly left, flanked by Pansy and Astoria, leaving a crimson-faced Neville standing there.
Just before crossing the threshold of the classroom, Draco's steps faltered momentarily. He craned his neck to look back at Harry, who likewise stared at him unwaveringly, neither of them budging an inch.
Their gazes collided in midair, a palpable tension crackling between them. In each other's eyes, they both discerned a potent mixture of disgust and some new, unfamiliar emotions that had not been present before.
"Hermione, what in Merlin's name happened here--" Neville, already accustomed to enduring Malfoy's insults, quickly composed himself and inquired in a slightly quavering voice, as his curiosity and concern suppressed his embarrassment.
"We'll discuss it later, Neville--" Hermione replied distractedly, brushing off the spot on Harry's shoulder where the viper had recently perched, as if wiping away any lingering traces of its presence. She surveyed the chaotic state of the classroom, and a soft sigh left her lips.
"First, let's restore some semblance of order to this place. If anyone else comes to train here later and stumbles upon this scene, I shudder to think of the potential repercussions..." Hermione trailed off, a sudden realization seeming to strike her midsentence. She fixed Neville with an intense, meaningful stare, her face etched with the utmost seriousness.
"Neville, you absolutely cannot breathe a word of this incident to anyone, just like that incident in our first year. If Professor Watson were to catch wind of Harry and Malfoy's behavior, there's no doubt in my mind that he would not tolerate it for even a second!"
After leaving Hogwarts grounds, Bryan immediately apparated to the bustling heart of London. With both him and Dumbledore absent from the school simultaneously, and Cliodna still at the school, he originally planned to go straight to the Ministry of Magic, not wanting to be away for too long.
However, upon further reflection, he realized that showing an overly anxious demeanor might inadvertently expose some flaws.
Voldemort himself was not only a wizard with high attainments in the Dark Arts, but also a man of extraordinary intelligence. Otherwise, there was no way he could have hidden under Dumbledore's nose for so many years and bewitched so many loyal lackeys from prestigious families to his side.
After some consideration, Bryan sent a letter to Barty Crouch's office requesting a visit. Following proper etiquette, he inquired whether there would be time the day after tomorrow morning for him to pay a visit then.
Afterwards, Bryan found a Muggle hotel near the Ministry of Magic to stay at.
The Ministry of Magic was strategically located in the very heart of London, nestled amidst the most vibrant and bustling district of this international metropolis. Although the joyous occasion of Christmas was still more than a fortnight away, with the occasional flurry of snow still drifting down from the overcast skies, the festive spirit here was already palpable and infectious.
Every storefront lining the streets had already decked their halls with Christmas decorations, while the towering high-rises had colorful, illuminated portraits of jolly, white-bearded old men and dazzling light displays visible through their glass windows.
The clamor continued late into the night.
Bryan stood motionless behind the floor-to-ceiling glass window of his hotel room, silently observing the lively scene unfolding on the crowded street below. Despite the high-quality soundproofing of the windows, the continuous hubbub and peals of laughter still managed to penetrate the barrier, although in a muffled fashion. For a fleeting moment, Bryan appeared lost in thought, his eyes glazed and unfocused.
During the two years of wandering that followed his graduation from Hogwarts, Bryan still often paid attention to the happenings and developments in the Muggle world. However, ever since Dumbledore had brought him back to Hogwarts two years ago, the numerous concerns and intrigues of the magical world had completely monopolized his time and energy, leaving him with little opportunity to devote much attention to the Muggle world anymore.
He seldom even thought about the children and kind staff at the orphanage where he grew up.
At this thought, weariness and melancholy surfaced on Bryan's still-young face. He sighed softly.
Given his thoughtful nature and feelings, Bryan always had a preference for a more "ranger-like" lifestyle, a life of privacy and self-sufficiency, rather than the celebrity status and renown that now covered him as "the famous Bryan Watson".
But as time marched forward, a series of events and fateful encounters had gradually forged unbreakable bonds between Bryan and the British magical community, ties that could not be easily severed or cast aside. Whether by his own will or the unpredictable whims of destiny, Bryan found himself inextricably entangled in the fate of the nearly ten thousand witches and wizards who comprised this nation's magical population.
As his thoughts wandered down this path, Bryan's mind suddenly conjured up the secrets he had glimpsed not long ago in the sacred land of the centaurs, as well as the entrance that Hufflepuff herself had left hidden within the kitchen of Hogwarts.
If, by some twist of fate, he were granted the opportunity to return to the Earth of his previous life... But the price of such a journey might very well be the inability to ever return to this wondrous magical world that had become his home. Where, then, would he choose to go and stay?
In his past life, the faces of his parents, remained etched vividly in his memory. He had friends in that world, and even a regretfully-ended relationship. What impact had his departure brought to their lives? Would they still want to see him again -- to see the ordinary him or the magical him?
And in this world... If he were to vanish without a trace, how many people would sincerely feel reluctant to part and be saddened? Conversely, how many would secretly rejoice at his departure, breathing a sigh of relief at being rid of his meddlesome presence?
A time traveler...
Looking at the illusory reflection in the glass mirror, Bryan grinned in self-mockery. Time travelers can observe two or more worlds. Although their marvelous experiences seem enviable, in some ways, they are like wandering souls, their hearts having nowhere to settle.
As the years pass, with each turn of the old and new, one tends to get sentimental.
After a long sigh, Bryan crooked his finger. The huge cashmere curtains automatically closed, shutting out the bustling scene outside the window.
Due to last night's restlessness, the next day, a dispirited Bryan interrupted his plan to go experience the Muggle world for a while. He neither studied magic nor pondered any complex issues, but simply lay in his room sleeping until dusk on the second day, when a sudden owl awakened the somewhat disheveled Bryan.
Surprisingly, the reply he had been awaiting did not bear the signature of Barty Crouch, but rather that of Percy Weasley.
Looking at the official rhetoric filling the letter, Bryan raised his eyebrows. Then, after shaking his head slightly, he turned the paper into a wisp of green smoke in his palm.
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