Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

Lately, Augustus had been busier than ever. In addition to his daily routine of intensive reading in various libraries and solving problems for Slytherin students who sought his help, his duties as a Slytherin prefect had also commenced. Though a prefect's responsibilities were usually limited to handling minor disputes among students and weren't particularly burdensome, the approach of Christmas had made the younger students restless, leaving Augustus and Lillian with more demanding tasks.

As he sat in the Hogwarts Great Hall, Draco Malfoy stared in astonishment at Harry, who was calmly eating at the Gryffindor table. He had assumed that, after being taken away by Professor McGonagall the previous day, Harry would now be on the train back to the Muggle world.

"That Potter thinks he can get away with anything just because the teachers favor him! Even after committing such a serious offense, he faces no consequences. If I tell my father and he writes to the school board, Harry will be sent back to his Muggle home in no time," Malfoy muttered bitterly, his voice tinged with jealousy.

"Draco," Augustus said with a slight smile, "you're old enough to solve your problems on your own. If you despise Harry so much, why not handle it yourself?"

"Handle it myself?" Malfoy repeated, confused. Then, as though struck by inspiration, he slapped the table and exclaimed, "Yes! I'll challenge Harry to a duel—a proper wizard's duel!" The thought of an intense showdown, reminiscent of Augustus's demonstrations, filled him with excitement. Before Augustus could respond, Malfoy was already striding toward Harry.

Augustus sighed and rubbed his forehead in resignation. He hadn't meant for Malfoy to leap to the idea of dueling. Communicating with him could be exasperating.

Not long after, Malfoy returned to the table, his face alight with excitement. "Harry agreed! Tonight at midnight, in the Trophy Room, we'll have a real wizard's duel. Can you come as a witness? Trust me, this duel will be over quickly!"

Seeing Malfoy's eagerness, Augustus hesitated briefly before nodding. Although he expected the duel to be dull, since the idea had stemmed from his earlier words, he thought it best to oversee it and ensure nothing went wrong.

At half past eleven that night, Augustus glanced at the clock and left his dormitory early. As he entered the Slytherin common room, he noticed two figures lurking behind the chairs—Malfoy and Crabbe, who seemed to be conspiring about something. When they saw Augustus, they stopped and greeted him.

"Let's go," Augustus said calmly, prompting Malfoy to move. The three of them left the cold, shadowy confines of the Slytherin dungeons and climbed the floating staircase.

The trio moved quickly down the corridors, the moonlight streaming through tall windows to cast patterns on the stone floor.

At every turn, Malfoy braced for an encounter with Filch or Mrs. Norris. Fortunately, luck was on their side. They hurried up the stairs and reached the third floor, silently approaching the Trophy Room. The display cases of crystal glass sparkled in the moonlight, illuminating trophies, shields, medals, and statues.

From the other side of the room, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were stealthily making their way in as well.

"Didn't we agree that each side would bring only one assistant besides Augustus as the witness? Why are there four of you?" Malfoy demanded, glaring at Hermione and Neville.

"They insisted on coming when we bumped into them along the way. Ron and I couldn't stop them," Harry said with a shrug of helplessness.

"Enough. Get started. It's late," Augustus interrupted, cutting Malfoy off before he could continue bickering. Watching two kids duel at midnight was ridiculous enough—he had no patience for any further nonsense.

Under Augustus's direction, Harry and Malfoy stood on a clear patch of floor in the Trophy Room. Augustus conjured a glowing red circle of fire on the ground, enclosing the two of them. At Ron's countdown, Harry and Malfoy raised their wands.

"Three, two, one—go!"

"Tarantallegra!" Malfoy struck first. After occasional dueling lessons from Augustus, he understood the importance of gaining the upper hand. His plan was simple: immobilize Harry's legs first, leaving him unable to dodge, and follow up with a longer-casting offensive spell. A straightforward combination, but effective—what Augustus called a "spell chain."

Harry, clearly inexperienced, was hit instantly. His legs began dancing uncontrollably, throwing him off balance. Panicking, he managed to raise his wand and cast, "Avis Oppugno!" A flock of black birds shot out of Harry's wand, screeching as they swarmed toward Malfoy.

The dark cloud of birds disrupted Malfoy's vision, preventing him from seamlessly following up with the next spell in his chain. Malfoy cursed under his breath—Harry was proving resourceful, even in his first duel.

"Rictusempra!" Malfoy shouted, blindly firing a spell toward Harry's last known position. Spell chains proved their worth, as the dancing Harry was still in the same spot and took the hit, silencing him with a Tongue-Tying Curse. Unable to speak, Harry could no longer cast effective spells.

Just as Malfoy prepared to end the duel with the final spell in his chain, Augustus intervened. A streak of silver light flashed between them, dispelling the effects of both their spells. Malfoy and Harry, now confused, looked to Augustus for an explanation.

"Filch is coming. He's on the second floor," Augustus said calmly.

Though uncertain how Augustus knew, the group chose to trust him without question.

"So Malfoy technically won, right? He landed the last successful spell," Hermione asked as they retreated. Though she disapproved of Harry dueling, she had been captivated by the spectacle.

"Yes, that's correct," Augustus replied. He was somewhat satisfied with Malfoy's ability to apply what he'd taught. Malfoy shot Harry a smug glance, clearly relishing his small victory.

They had barely taken ten steps when a classroom door creaked open, and something shot out—a poltergeist. It was Peeves.

"Students out of bed!" Peeves shrieked gleefully. "Students out of bed, in the Charms corridor!"

Augustus raised his wand, sending a jet of dark light at Peeves, who let out a terrified wail and vanished. However, the noise had clearly alerted Filch, whose footsteps on the stairs grew louder.

"This way," Augustus directed, pointing toward the end of the corridor. The group sprinted away without hesitation.

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