A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 207: Harry's Duel

Chapter 207: Harry's Duel

Harry pressed on, his voice determined. "You must know something—"

Snape waved his wand, murmuring "Muffliato," rendering their conversation unheard by those around. He spoke deliberately, each word cutting through the air, "You're always meddling, Potter! A few praises and you believe yourself the Chosen One. Were it not for your mother's sacrifice, you'd be nothing."

A mixture of emotions churned within Harry's stomach—gratitude and sorrow. He was relieved that his gamble had paid off; Snape indeed held more secrets. Yet, his heart ached at the mention of his mother. What could there be that he didn't already know? Snape continued his unabashed mockery, depicting Harry as a mere survivor, a thief of unearned renown, causing his lungs to feel as though they might burst.

His grip on his wand tightened, an urge to curse Snape with a Bat-Bogey Hex almost overwhelming him. The name of the spell seemed fitting for Snape, who resembled a rather unsavory, large bat.

Snape noticed Harry's gesture, cold eyes narrowing with an intent that was far from benevolent. "Do you wish to engage, Potter? I'm willing to give you that opportunity..."

Harry drew in two sharp breaths, then stiffly replied, "No, I seek something other than you." He took a few steps back, turning to Felix not far away. With conviction, he declared, "I choose Professor Harp."

Snape's expression displayed astonishment. In his calculations, Potter's nature should have been easily provoked, giving him an excuse to publicly chastise the young wizard.

Truth be told, he was eagerly anticipating that moment.

But this lad had actually declined. How dare he!

Snape reluctantly retreated to the edge of the stage. Felix and Harry now stood face to face, their wands at the ready.

In a low voice, Harry began, "Professor, if I manage to hold out for two minutes, would you promise me something?"

Felix gazed at him and chuckled, "Like during our special training?"

"Exactly," Harry quickly affirmed. He hadn't really expected to glean information about his father and Sirius Black from Snape; that had been more of a fortunate accident. Now, he was executing his true plan. "Just like when I succeeded for the first time, would you join me to examine the Firebolt crossbow prototypes at Quality Quidditch Supplies?"

"I went easy on you that time to boost your confidence," Felix remarked.

"I know, but I've improved," Harry asserted.

After a brief exchange, they both bowed to each other, then took seven steps back and turned, locking eyes.

Felix made no initial move, and Harry understood. It was like that time in the basement of the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry swung his wand abruptly and shouted, "Impedimenta!" A rope-like charm shot toward Felix. He didn't wait to see its effect, quickly stepping back twice and following with a silent Disarming Charm.

Felix stood smiling, the charm touching his body before rapidly softening. He then tilted his head, avoiding the red arc of light. Swiftly, he cast two spells, one crimson and one gold.

"Protego Armor!" Harry had already prepared the Shield Charm. One spell grazed the magical barrier while the other struck his Shield Charm directly, producing a muffled bang.

Harry mentally counted to eight, a pattern he had recognized during training. Professor Harp never knocked him down all at once; there was always a deliberate pause between spells. This offered him a glimmer of hope.

Reaching eight, he dodged to the side, a powerful spell smashing his Shield Charm. Scrambling up from the floor, he aimed his wand and sent three Stunning Spells: "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Without any visible motion, a faint magical barrier shimmered before Felix, deflecting Harry's spells. Immediately, Felix extended his hand, and the protective barrier morphed into seven or eight blunt-tipped arrows, hurtling towards Harry.

"Whoosh, whoosh!" The arrows emitted a mournful, whining sound.

Harry cast a Freezing Charm, suspending the arrows in mid-air, then lunged sideways.

The arrows paused for a second or two, then continued on their designated path, striking the wooden floor with an oddly muffled thud.

"Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!"

Less than thirty seconds had passed, yet the intense exchange of offense and defense between the two was riveting to all who watched. Professor Harp appeared undoubtedly composed, and the young wizards around weren't overly surprised. But Harry's performance left them bewildered.

His familiarity with dueling astonished everyone.

True, Harry was often in a sorry state—evading, rolling, awkwardly retreating. Yet, he managed to counterattack whenever gaps emerged, casting spells at a frequency exceeding that of his earlier classmates.

His countenance remained calm, devoid of the panic displayed by the others.

Harry dashed across the stage, seeking to increase the distance between himself and Professor Harp.

Two minutes proved lengthy, forcing Harry to strategize meticulously, something he had never contemplated before. Although aware his spells were ineffective, he continued retaliating, hoping to disrupt the professor's attack rhythm.

However, what filled him with despair was Professor Harp's unwavering pace, casting spells roughly every seven to eight seconds, never disrupted by Harry's efforts.

"I still have a long way to go!"

"Speculating like this, I'm certainly no match for Sirius Black!"

Impatience consumed Harry, his inner voice urging him it wasn't yet time, yet his mind wandered ceaselessly.

Mid-run, a Binding Charm caught him, causing him to stumble.

His glasses flew off, and Harry looked up, dazedly catching a blurred figure on the opposite side raising a wand.

"No!"

Struggling, he lifted his wand, shouting, "Expelliarmus!"

A brilliant red beam erupted, resembling a wrist-thick laser, shimmering with a faint white light.

The spell spanned a dozen meters, meeting Felix's Disarming Charm head-on.

"Hmm?"

Unfazed, Felix subtly enhanced the charm's power, equalling the strength of Harry's Disarming Charm.

From the perspective of the young wizards, Harry was momentarily on par with Professor Harp. Their spells clashed fiercely, igniting crackling explosions and arcs of magical light.

Half the hall buzzed with excitement.

"Is that Harry's Disarming Charm? How did he master it?"

"Legend has it that he used this spell to defeat the Dementor attacking him..."

"He's just a third-year student! Truly the savior who defeated the enigmatic figure."

"Do you think he can win?"

"...You're getting ahead of yourself, but I believe it's possible in the future!"

Severus Snape, stationed in the corner, watched in astonishment. He had never known Harry could wield magic of this intensity—far beyond what he usually demonstrated.

Suddenly, his attention shifted to another figure.

Lupin!

Lupin appeared weary, his graying hair even more conspicuous against his patched clothes. Snape wasn't sure when Lupin had entered the Great Hall; he stared at Harry with concern.

Their eyes met, and Lupin nodded kindly before intently fixing his gaze on Harry.

On the gilded platform, Harry struggled to maintain the charm. He couldn't gauge how much time had elapsed; each second felt like an eternity. Still, he yearned to endure a little longer.

Perhaps he had already held on for two minutes? That way, Professor Harp wouldn't refuse his request. Harry hoped.

Felix's incantations remained steady and formidable, maintaining their unyielding power. Helplessly, Harry watched his own magic pushed back.

He gritted his teeth, his vision becoming hazy, the world spinning. He was familiar with this sensation.

"In the next moment, I should collapse onto the carpeted floor, uncomfortable but not overly painful..."

"Thud!"

Harry crashed to the ground, exclaiming in pain. Tears welled up.

Abruptly, he realized he wasn't in the basement of the Leaky Cauldron for special training; he was on the gilded platform in the school's Great Hall, lying on bare, hard wood.

"Harry... Harry..." A gentle voice reached his ears as someone crouched beside him, but he couldn't distinguish who it was.

He faded into unconsciousness.

Felix Harp observed Professor Lupin rushing toward Harry in concern and halted from a distance.

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