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Voldemort slowly drew his wand. "I made the first move in our last duel. As a courtesy, this time, you go first. There was a flicker of amusement in his scarlet eyes as he addressed Augustus with unexpected politeness, almost like a gentleman.
Augustus gave a slight smirk and pointed his silver wand into the air. A swarm of blazing red crows materialized above them, each one engulfed in searing flames. The tiny room was instantly filled with waves of intense heat.
The fire-crows took up most of the airspace, and as Augustus shifted his wand toward Voldemort, the flaming birds shrieked, flapping their ember-sparked wings and diving straight at him.
Voldemort remained calm, his wand raised toward the air."Obstacles abound."Invisible walls of compressed air sprang up around him. As the fire-crows flew in, they slammed into these barriers, bursting into waves of hot air with every impact.
Augustus gave his wand another flick, and the flaming birds suddenly stopped midair. They opened their beaks, now aimed straight at Voldemort, and in the next instant, intense pure fire burst from their mouths, shooting down from all directions in a powerful, overwhelming blaze.
Watching the flames fly in from every angle, Voldemort's eyes flashed with approval. He pointed his wand at a patch of floor nearby.With a hiss, a giant emerald-green serpent emerged once again—just like the last time it had appeared and vanished. This time, it seemed delighted to be summoned back.
It slithered around with a satisfied hiss before raising its head to face the firestorm above. Opening its jaws, the serpent spewed streams of inky green, icy dark energy into the air. As this dark energy collided with the flames, it triggered bursts of annihilating force—each impact leaving burning craters in the wooden floor, eating through it like acid.
Augustus waved his wand again, and the flaming crows vanished from the air. A new figure appeared in the sky—a pure white, glistening gyrfalcon. It let out a proud cry, amber eyes locking onto the serpent's shadow below like it had found its prey. With a wide sweep of its wings, it swooped down like lightning.
The serpent's golden eyes narrowed with disdain. It raised its head and let out a warning hiss.
Then—zap!—rays of golden light burst from its eyes, firing at the diving falcon. But the gyrfalcon twisted and spun effortlessly midair, dodging the golden rays with precise, graceful maneuvers. The beams slammed into the ceiling, instantly transforming the wooden panels into cold, gray stone bricks that looked like marble.
As it closed in, the gyrfalcon spread its razor-sharp talons and let out a sharp cry, striking the serpent's body with blinding speed.
The serpent was just a bit too slow to react and got slashed several times, icy frost creeping in from the wounds left by the falcon's claws. The serpent hissed in pain, golden eyes now flashing with fury. Its massive tail whipped toward the falcon—and this time, it landed a hit. The emerald tail struck the bird, sending it tumbling through the air. A bright white gash appeared on one of its wings.
The gyrfalcon screeched and began flapping its wings rapidly, whipping up a vortex of wind in midair. As the flapping grew faster, a whirling storm formed around it, filled with a chilling frost. A small cyclone of icy wind began to take shape and then surged downward, aiming directly at the coiled serpent below.
The serpent wasn't fazed. It calmly lifted its head and opened its mouth wide.
As the swirling ice storm descended, the serpent breathed out a jet of black fire.
The moment the fire met the spinning winds, it fed on the air and grew stronger, ballooning into a roaring inferno. The once-small black flame expanded rapidly, devouring the storm and filling half the room with dark fire. It snuffed out the icy whirlwind in seconds, then surged upward toward the gyrfalcon.
The bird tried to escape, darting in different directions, but the black fire had spread too wide. It couldn't find a way out. After several failed attempts, it let out one last screech as the black flames engulfed it completely, reducing it to nothing midair.
With both the storm and the falcon gone, the black fire—almost like it had a mind of its own—turned toward Augustus. Now covering nearly the entire ceiling, the inferno moved like a dark tide, closing in on him.
Augustus nodded slightly, his eyes reflecting a hint of realization.Wind, fire, mountain, forest—using elemental counters to perfectly achieve strategic goals. Seems like Voldemort's quite experienced with elemental matchups and adapting in combat.
Just as Augustus was about to deal with the incoming flames, a phoenix's cry echoed through the room.
Suddenly, Harry's vision was overwhelmed by a blinding white light. The black flames that had nearly filled the entire room instantly began to melt away in the presence of the pure light, like ice meeting fire.
Just before darkness took him, Harry caught one last glimpse—a white-bearded man's back, tall and glowing like a god descending into the mortal world.
Then everything went black.He felt himself falling, falling, falling…
Above him, something gold flashed—it was the Snitch!He tried to grab it, but his arm was too heavy to lift. He blinked. Wait—it wasn't the Snitch. It was… a pair of glasses?Weird.
He blinked harder. Slowly, a smiling face came into focus—Albus Dumbledore. Beside him stood Augustus, calm and composed.
"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.
Harry stared blankly for a second, then everything came rushing back."Sir! The Sorcerer's Stone! It's Quirrell! He got the Stone! Sir, you have to—"
"Easy there, my dear boy," Dumbledore said gently. "What you're saying is already outdated. The Stone has been moved to a safe place."
Harry swallowed hard and looked around. He realized he was in the hospital wing. He was lying on a bed covered with clean white linen. On the bedside table, there was a mountain of sweets—looked like half a candy shop had been delivered here.
"All from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore said, smiling. "What happened between you and Professor Quirrell down in the dungeons is supposed to be a complete secret. But you know how secrets are—they travel fast.
So, naturally, the entire school knows. From what I hear, your friends Fred and George Weasley even tried to send you a toilet seat as a gift. I'm sure they meant it as a joke, but Madam Pomfrey thought it was unsanitary and confiscated it."
"How long have I been here?"
"Three days. Mr. Ron Weasley and Miss Granger will be relieved to hear you've woken up. They've been terribly worried."
"But sir, the Stone—"
"No distracting you, huh?" Dumbledore chuckled. "Very well, let's talk about the Stone. Professor Quirrell didn't manage to take it from you.
Mr. Augustus here did a fine job holding him off before I arrived. Thanks to him, the Stone stayed safe. Once I showed up, Voldemort fled. But I must say—you handled yourself very well, Harry. Remarkably well."
Relieved at last, Harry glanced at Dumbledore and Augustus standing beside him. For some reason, their presence filled him with an odd sense of peace.
And then, he drifted back into sleep once more.
"....."