Chapter 214: Chapter 214: "The Final Showdown"
The morning of the European Dueling Championship final dawned bright and clear. The Palais de Duel was a hive of activity, with spectators queuing for hours to secure their seats. The air thrummed with excitement and speculation, the crowd's anticipation palpable.
Harry woke early, his mind already racing with strategies and counter-strategies. He went through his usual pre-duel routine: a light breakfast, some gentle stretching, and a brief meditation to center his magic. As he dressed in his dueling robes, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He was in a good state and ready to take on the best Europe had to offer.
Sirius and Flitwick accompanied him to the Palais, offering last-minute advice and encouragement. "Remember, Harry," Flitwick squeaked excitedly, his eyes shining with anticipation, "Volkov favors power over subtlety. Use that against him! Your agility and quick thinking could be the key!"
Sirius simply gripped Harry's shoulder, his eyes shining with pride. "You've got this, pup. Show them what a Potter can do. Your grandparents would be so proud."
As they entered the arena, the roar of the crowd was deafening. The stands were packed, with witches and wizards from across Europe eager to witness what promised to be a historic duel.
Harry surprisingly spotted several familiar faces in the crowd. His keen eyesight picked out Amelia, Susan, and Aries, waving enthusiastically. Near them were Emma and her husband David, Emma clutching a banner that read "Go, Harry!"
There had been no talk of them coming to the tournament, but here they were, a pleasant surprise that warmed Harry's heart. He waved back at them happily, his determination to win solidifying.
Viktor Volkov stood at the other end of the platform. The Russian champion cut an imposing figure, his battle-scarred face set in a mask of concentration. As their eyes met, Harry felt a jolt of anticipation. This was it - the final. He might have to go all out from the get go in this duel.
Madame Rousseau took the stage, her voice magically amplified. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the 127th European Dueling Championship! On my left, our reigning champion, Viktor Volkov!" The crowd roared its approval as Volkov raised his wand in acknowledgment. "And on my right, the surprise of the tournament, Hadrian Potter!"
The cheer that greeted Harry's name was, if anything, even louder. He had become the crowd favorite, the underdog they were all rooting for.
"Duelists, take your positions," Madame Rousseau commanded. Harry and Volkov approached the center of the platform, bowing formally to each other.
Volkov's eyes gleamed with respect and challenge. "Let's give them a duel to remember, young Potter," he said, his accent thick but his words clear.
Harry nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, Mr. Volkov. May the best wizard win."
"Begin!" Madame Rousseau's voice rang out.
The duel started with explosive intensity. Volkov lived up to his reputation, launching a barrage of spells that lit up the arena with their power.
"And they're off!" the commentator shouted. "Volkov opens with a devastating series of Blasting Curses! Potter's on the defensive already!"
Harry found himself immediately on the defensive, conjuring shields and dodging with every ounce of his agility. "Protego Maxima!" he cried, a shimmering barrier erupting from his wand just in time to deflect a particularly nasty hex.
For the first few minutes, it seemed Volkov had the upper hand. His spells came relentlessly, each one powerful enough to end the duel if it connected.
"Volkov's living up to his reputation, folks!" the commentator exclaimed. "He's not giving Potter a moment to breathe!"
But as had been the pattern in the tournament, Harry finished studying his opponent's style and slowly began to fight back, finding his rhythm. He started to see the patterns in Volkov's attacks, the brief pauses between barrages.
Seizing his chance, Harry launched a counterattack. "Fulgur Catena!" he shouted, a chain of lightning erupting from his wand. He mixed standard dueling spells with his signature lightning attacks, the electricity arcing across the platform in brilliant blue flashes.
"Merlin's beard!" the commentator cried. "Potter's fighting back with some extraordinary magic! I've never seen lightning wielded like this!"
Volkov, although well aware of Harry's style of fighting, was caught off guard by the unusual magic. Even though he was ready, facing the lightning waves in reality was difficult, and he was forced to give ground.
"Impressivo, Potter!" Volkov called out, a note of admiration in his voice as he conjured a shield to deflect the lightning. "But let's see how you handle this! Ignis Vortex!"
A swirling vortex of fire erupted from Volkov's wand, threatening to engulf Harry.
The duel became a breathtaking display of magical prowess. Volkov's raw power clashed with Harry's innovative techniques, creating spectacular magical effects that had the crowd gasping in awe. Shields shimmered and shattered, transfigured beasts clashed in mid-air, and the very air seemed to crackle with magical energy.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing history!" the commentator shouted, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Never in my years of commentating have I seen such a display of magical skill and power!"
As the duel approached the thirty-minute mark, both duelists were showing signs of fatigue. Volkov's attacks, while still powerful, were coming less frequently. Harry's movements, though still quick, had lost some of their earlier sharpness.
Harry this time was not holding back anything. He was giving it all, but Volkov was able to counter every one of his attacks and was not leaving him an opportunity to end the duel.
Then, after a few more exchanges of attacks, in a moment that would be replayed and analyzed for years to come, both duelists struck simultaneously. Volkov unleashed a massive fireball, while Harry countered with a lightning bolt of unprecedented power.
"Ignis Maxima!" Volkov roared. "Fulmen Ultimatum!" Harry cried.
The two spells met in the center of the platform with a thunderous explosion.
"Unbelievable!" the commentator screamed. "The very air is alight with magic!"
For a moment, the entire arena was blinded by the flash. When vision returned, both duelists were still standing, but barely. They stared at each other across the smoking platform, wands raised, each waiting for the other to make the final move.
In that moment of stillness, Harry made a move. The flash earlier gave him an inspiration. He jumped into the air and as Volkov watched with high focus, cast the brightest spell he had in his arsenal. "Lumos Solaris!" he shouted.
Volkov was caught off guard and completely blinded by the light. "Clever, Potter!" he grunted, casting random shield charms to protect himself.
Harry, using this opportunity, went behind the blind Volkov who was casting spells randomly to defend against Harry.
"Expelliarmus," Harry whispered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.
Volkov's wand flew from his hand, arcing high into the air before landing outside the platform. For a moment, silence reigned in the arena. Then, as the reality of what had just happened sank in, the crowd erupted in a deafening roar.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Madame Rousseau's voice cut through the noise, "I present to you the new European Dueling Champion, Hadrian Potter!"
As the crowd chanted his name, Harry stood in the center of the platform, barely able to believe what had just happened. The battle had been harder than he had anticipated, but he had done it. He had become the youngest European Dueling Champion in history.
Volkov approached him, a newfound respect in his eyes. "Congratulations, young Potter," he said, extending his hand. "You fought with strength and skill. You have earned this victory."
As Harry shook Volkov's hand, he felt a surge of emotions - pride, exhaustion, and above all, a sense of accomplishment. He had proven himself on the international stage, showcasing not just his power, but his ingenuity and determination. Now he could really say he had joined the ranks of powerful people in the wizarding world. This was truly a huge accomplishment.
As Sirius and Flitwick rushed onto the platform to congratulate him, Harry caught sight of his family in the stands and waved at them. They were joyous, with little Aries Black jumping up and down with joy. He was truly happy watching this sight. His hard work was worth it.
Harry knew that his performance here would have far-reaching consequences, both for his own future and for the wizarding world at large. There was a high chance he would lose more of his prophetic advantage in this world, but that was no longer an issue for Harry. He could not be limited by worry about the future. He was strong and trained to be stronger to ensure no amount of change in the future would trouble him.
As Harry raised the championship trophy high above his head, he put all his worries away and allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment. He was Harry Potter, the European Dueling Champion, and he was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.
Voldemort, you better be ready to face a powerful Harry Potter who does not need any manipulations, external strength, or fate to ensure he wins the final battle.
Chapter 215: Chapter 215: "Summer Days and OWL Results"
The summer sun shone brightly over Bones Manor as Harry Potter, recently crowned European Dueling Champion, found himself in an unexpected role: babysitter. With Sirius and Amelia consumed by preparations for the Quidditch World Cup, Harry had been entrusted with the care of young Aries Black and Susan Bones. Leaving them with house elves was not an option because Sirius and Amelia left early in the morning and came back late at night when the kids were asleep.
"Higher, Harry! Higher!" Aries, now a rambunctious three-year-old, squealed with delight as Harry guided his toy broom a few feet off the ground.
Harry laughed, keeping a watchful eye on Aries. "Any higher, mate, and we'll need to get you a real broom! You're becoming quite the daredevil, aren't you?"
Nearby, Susan zoomed past on Sirius's Firebolt, her red hair streaming behind her. "Harry!" she called out, executing a perfect loop-de-loop. "Did you see that move? I've been practicing all summer!"
"Brilliant, Susan!" Harry cheered, genuinely impressed. "It seems like Hufflepuff is going to be the favorite for winning another Quidditch cup this year. With your performance better than last year's, you'll be giving other team chasers a run for their money."
As he watched Susan and Aries zoom around on their brooms, Harry's mind wandered to the whirlwind of events following his championship win. It began that very day with a small after-event gathering with other duellers and then later that day more celebrations with the special people who had come to cheer for Harry. It was one tiring day by the end of which Harry was completely drained of strength. That's coming from someone who has the enhanced stamina and endurance of a Knight.
The furor over the tournament win did not end there. After returning home, Harry had been plagued with invitations from many people including those with high status in the ministry to special gatherings. He had respectfully declined as he did not want to enter the political circle until after Hogwarts. This was too soon to appear there.
"Mr. Potter," one invitation had read, "your presence would greatly honor our annual Midsummer Gala. Many influential members of our society are eager to meet the young prodigy who has taken the dueling world by storm."
Harry had penned a polite response: "While I'm deeply honored by your invitation, I must respectfully decline. At this time, I'm focusing on my studies and personal development. I look forward to engaging more with the wizarding community after I've completed my education at Hogwarts."
Then the Daily Prophet headlines struck with articles of stories about him from any sources they could get.
One particularly sensational article had proclaimed: "The Boy Who Duels: Harry Potter's Secret Training Revealed!" The article went on to speculate wildly about Harry's upbringing and magical education, with theories ranging from secret tutoring by Merlin's ghost to time travel.
Thankfully not many people knew about the reasons for his strained relationship with his parents and Dumbledore, but that did not stop them from making up theories.
Harry rarely went out in public and the reporters did not know his home location so he was not mobbed. The whole week, however, had been a bit overwhelming. Thankfully, the Quidditch World Cup fever had redirected much of the attention away from him.
An owl's screech interrupted his thoughts. Harry recognized the Ministry seal on the letter it carried – his OWL results had arrived. With a deep breath, he unfolded the parchment, a smile spreading across his face as he read. Twelve OWLs, all Outstanding. He had only given nine OWLs last year but the ministry had decided to club his three OWLs which he had given to claim his emancipation when he was eleven years old and made the certificate all together. The result was nothing unexpected so he quietly folded it away.
Twelve was the maximum number of OWLs one could give in wizarding Britain. For more, Harry would have needed to go to the ICW to take the exams which Harry did not think was worth the time or effort. Marks and grades don't usually matter much in the real world. They are just for show and might give you a push in the beginning stages of your career but in the end, it is your skill that matters the most.
That evening, Sirius and Amelia returned earlier than usual, their faces alight with anticipation. It looked like they got the memo and the OWL results had been announced.
"Well?" Sirius asked, practically bouncing on his heels. "Don't keep us in suspense, pup! How did you do?"
Harry couldn't help but grin at his godfather's enthusiasm. "Twelve OWLs, all Outstanding."
Amelia's usually stern face broke into a wide smile. "Congratulations, Harry! That's absolutely fantastic."
Sirius let out a whoop of joy, pulling Harry into a bear hug. "I knew you could do it! This calls for a celebration! Kreacher, break out the finest Firewhiskey we have!"
"Sirius," Amelia chided, though her eyes twinkled with amusement, "Harry's still underage."
"Butterbeer for the kids then," Sirius amended with a wink. "But the adults are definitely having Firewhiskey!"
Before Harry knew it, he found himself back at Black Castle, surrounded by family and friends in an impromptu party. As he looked around at the smiling faces, he felt a pang of bittersweetness. With Voldemort's return looming on the horizon, moments like these would become increasingly rare.
"Knut for your thoughts?" Emma asked, appearing at Harry's side with a glass of butterbeer.
Harry smiled, accepting the drink. "Just thinking about how after a lot of twists and turns my life has turned great. I want it to be like this forever."
Emma's expression softened. "Life has a way of throwing challenges at us, Harry. But haven't you been working hard to gain strength so that you can live your life the way you want it to be? The future is always uncertain, but remember you have us, and we can face all the hurdles together."
Harry nodded, his resolve strengthening. "You're right. No Dark Wizard is going to keep me from living a good life with my family. I have overcome so much already, and whatever comes next, I will face it head-on."
The next day brought a flurry of owls from friends, all sharing their own OWL successes. Plans were quickly made to meet in Diagon Alley.
"Can you believe it?" Roger Davies exclaimed as they strolled down the bustling street. "NEWTs classes begin next year! It's all happening so fast."
Cedric nodded in agreement. "And from the cryptic hints my dad is giving me all summer, something interesting is going to happen at Hogwarts. He keeps talking about 'international magical cooperation' and 'a chance for eternal glory'. It's going to be an exciting year."
Harry said, knowing what the secret was. "As if the previous years weren't exciting enough. I was hoping for a quiet year, but we don't always get what we wish for. But let's focus on today, shall we? I hear Florean Fortescue has a new flavor we simply must try."
As they indulged in ice cream and laughter, Harry allowed himself to relax and enjoy the moment. The worries of the future could wait – for now, he wanted to savor these last few days of carefree joy with his friends.
"We'll all meet up at the World Cup, right?" Roger asked as they prepared to part ways.
Everyone nodded enthusiastically. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry agreed. "It's not every day we get to see the best Quidditch players in the world face off."
As the day of the Quidditch World Cup Final approached, excitement reached a fever pitch. Harry could feel the anticipation building, not just for the match, but for the challenges he knew lay ahead.
Although Harry did not remember the exact specifics, he knew there was going to be a Death Eater attack during the World Cup, and he needed to prepare for a battle where he might be outnumbered. However, Harry refused to let these worries dominate his thoughts. His current strength gave him the confidence to not live in fear of everything. The Death Eaters would regret causing trouble under his watch.
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