Harry Potter: Returning from Azeroth

"If Professor Flitwick were here, he'd tell you just how crucial rhythm is in a duel," Professor McGonagall continued. "Once you gain control of the situation, you can dictate the flow of the battle—whether to prolong the fight and wait for your opponent to tire and make a mistake, or to release a smokescreen and set a trap."

"Or perhaps launch a relentless flurry of attacks, overwhelming your opponent before they have a chance to react. In short, you can force the duel to unfold on your terms."

"Take my duel with Miss Miranda just now as an example," McGonagall began her breakdown. "You can, like I did, skillfully manipulate your transfigured objects to divert and entangle your opponent's attention, compelling them to deal with the transfigured forms, and then seize the opportunity to launch your own attack."

"At the same time, even the items your opponent carries are no longer safe. You can transfigure them at any moment and use them for a lethal strike—though I must emphasize here that human transfiguration is extremely dangerous."

"Even in the International Wizarding Duel Championship, if a contestant were to perform an irreversible transfiguration on their opponent, they would face the harshest punishment, possibly even imprisonment!" McGonagall's gaze swept sternly across the room. "So, absolutely do not attempt to transfigure your classmates! None of you want to end up in Azkaban, do you?"

For perhaps the first time in the entire club session, McGonagall was truly serious—she was laying down a strict prohibition.

After all, human transfiguration was not only highly complex but also incredibly prone to accidents. And when accidents happened, they often led to irreversible consequences.

Unlike conventional physical injuries, magical injuries accounted for the majority of cases at St. Mungo's Hospital, with many victims suffering lifelong repercussions.

More importantly, at this age, students were bold—recklessly so. They often acted on impulse without considering the consequences. It wasn't entirely out of the question that some might actually try transfiguring their classmates.

And in the high-pressure environment of a duel, the chances of a botched spell leading to a magical catastrophe were far too high.

After reiterating all the forbidden actions, Professor McGonagall called upon several sixth-year students from different houses to serve as demonstrations.

None of them fared well.

Some were swiftly bound like a cocoon while struggling against the transfigured objects. Others, having learned from their predecessors, tried to ignore the distractions and focus solely on McGonagall—only to find themselves battered by a horde of attacking transfigured entities, forcing them to their knees.

Brutal. Absolutely brutal.

"Well then, who else would like to try?" McGonagall, seemingly invigorated, glanced around the room with an expectant gleam in her eyes.

Silence.

"Alright, I see you're all eager to move on to dueling each other." With a wave of her wand, the wreckage of chairs scattered around the room returned to their original state. "Pair up and step into the center. I'll observe and point out your weaknesses."

A collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

Students generally disliked theoretical lessons—even the top performers weren't exempt from this sentiment. Any lesson involving wands was infinitely more popular, and when it came to dueling, enthusiasm was practically guaranteed.

With only about a dozen members in the Transfiguration Club, it didn't take long for students to pair up, chatting and joking as they did.

"Harry?"

Seeing Harry standing alone without a partner—having bypassed the usual grade restrictions to join—Percy kindly extended an invitation. "Why don't you join us?"

"Me?" Harry glanced at Percy's side. "I won't be intruding?"

He hesitated, given that Percy's group consisted only of himself and Penelope.

As someone with life experience beyond his years, Harry was well aware of what a one-on-one pairing between a boy and a girl often implied. He had no desire to be the third wheel.

"...Merlin's beard, Harry! You're an eleven-year-old kid!" Percy's face instantly turned crimson. Clenching his teeth, he hissed, "What on earth is going on in that head of yours?!"

Percy felt completely paralyzed. He struggled to avoid the burning gaze from beside him—he could practically feel it boring holes into his skin.

He did have feelings for Penelope, the charming Ravenclaw, but they were in the earliest stages, barely budding, unspoken and unexpressed. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Harry would blurt it out so bluntly in front of her.

"Well, it looks like you do need a sparring partner, Harry!" Avoiding Penelope's gaze entirely, Percy stomped over and clamped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I've heard you're quite skilled—let's see for ourselves."

"Sorry," Harry muttered under his breath where Penelope couldn't hear. "Didn't know you hadn't made it official yet."

"Shut up, Harry. Just drop it," Percy shot back even more quickly, his voice barely above a whisper—Harry almost didn't catch it.

"Alright, let's give it a go!" Percy said, slapping Harry's shoulder with a little too much force.

The gesture was meant to be friendly, but Harry suspected at least a fraction of it was vengeance.

Tilting his head slightly, Harry glanced toward Penelope—though he was swiftly blocked as Percy shifted his stance. Even so, he'd already drawn his conclusion.

"I think you've got a chance, Percy," Harry whispered. "She looked quite pleased—need me to do a little divination for you?"

"Really?" Percy's expression softened instantly.

"One Galleon."

"Let's just duel!!"

"Hold on, that's a bargain—consider it a family discount for Ron's sake. You should hear what other students are offering just for a reading. And that's assuming I even agree to it," Harry said, rolling his shoulder where Percy had smacked it.

"...Guaranteed success?" Percy asked after a deep breath, tempted despite himself.

"Guaranteed a reading, not guaranteed romance," Harry shrugged. "If you mess things up yourself, that's on you. Divination isn't all-powerful."

"—Let's just duel!"

With that final growl, Percy and Harry stepped into the center of the room.

"Percy? And… Harry?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the red-faced Weasley. "Are you two really going to duel? This seems a bit…"

Professor McGonagall began to consider the fairness of this duel.

"Don't worry, Professor," Percy spoke up first. "I'll only use Transfiguration."

"…Alright." After recalling the level of magic Harry had displayed so far, Professor McGonagall ultimately agreed.

"Bow first, Harry." Standing on the other side, Percy prompted, "We'll start after a three-two-one count. No problem?"

"No problem," Harry answered decisively.

Since this was the Transfiguration Club, Harry decided he would also stick to Transfiguration alone.

At the end of the countdown, Percy was the first to flick his wand. It was evident that he was indeed one of Professor McGonagall's prized students—every move was modeled after her. The two unfortunate chairs at the sides of the classroom were once again transfigured, taking the form of wooden soldiers, nearly identical to the ones Professor McGonagall had demonstrated earlier. They blew their horns and charged at Harry.

"That won't stump me, Percy," Harry called out. With a wave of his wand, several more chairs transformed into wooden dogs, which immediately lunged forward, tearing into the wooden soldiers.

"It's rare to see a first-year perform at this level, Harry." Despite his joking tone, Percy couldn't help but admire Harry's counter. "But I won't hold back from here on."

And he truly didn't. Harry realized Percy could be quite devious—because even as he spoke, Harry felt the buttons on his robe shifting under the influence of magic. However, he quickly neutralized the spell with a counter-curse before anything could happen.

Percy had attempted a sneak attack. Yet, when it failed, he showed no hint of embarrassment. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow smugly.

The duel escalated instantly. Neither Harry nor Percy moved from their positions, while their transformed creations waged a brutal battle in the center of the room. Splinters flew, debris scattered—

It was sheer carnage. Utterly ruthless.

"Whew—Harry, you can use other spells, you know," Percy reminded him, panting.

"Thanks, but I'm fine with just Transfiguration." Unlike Percy, who was starting to sweat, Harry appeared completely at ease.

Transfiguration required energy—especially when controlling multiple transformations at once, which was both mentally and magically taxing.

"Ha! Got you!" Percy suddenly exclaimed in delight, raising his wand triumphantly.

At Harry's feet, a stray splinter had abruptly morphed into a vivid green vine, snaking toward his ankle—

But it missed!

"Huh?" Percy's eyes widened in disbelief.

The next moment, Percy felt himself flipping through the air—he had been lifted off the ground before suddenly crashing back down.

Harry had noticed Percy's little trick all along but had pretended not to. Instead, he had laid his own trap using the same airborne splinters, mirroring Percy's strategy.

Originally, Harry had planned to suspend Percy in midair, but just as Percy was about to be flipped upside down, Harry caught sight of Penelope watching nearby. So, instead, Percy spun half a turn and landed straight on his backside—looking utterly bewildered.

A round of applause broke the silence. Professor McGonagall stepped forward, clapping as she waved her wand. The shattered wood pieces across the floor began to twitch and jump, seeking out their missing counterparts… or perhaps just any nearby piece, eventually forming back into fully intact chairs that returned to the walls.

"Excellent, absolutely excellent," Professor McGonagall praised. "In terms of control over Transfiguration, you two have already surpassed many others—after all, not everyone can maintain so many simultaneous transformations."

"…I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. I lost." Scrambling up from the floor, Percy's face turned even redder—this time, from shame.

Yes, he had only used Transfiguration, but the problem was… so had Harry!

Even if Harry had been labeled a genius and the "Boy Who Lived" before even starting school, losing to a first-year still stung Percy's pride.

"There's no need to be discouraged, Percy," Professor McGonagall consoled. "There's no such thing as an absolute advantage in a wizard's duel. And when it comes to pure Transfiguration battles, they test a wizard's vigilance and observational skills above all."

"You were too focused on your own trap, weren't you? Especially when you saw it getting close to Harry—you didn't notice that Harry's trap had already closed in on you." Professor McGonagall analyzed calmly. "Did you learn something from this, Percy?"

"Yes… I should always be aware of my own position and surroundings," Percy admitted, still somewhat dispirited.

"Good. If you've learned something new, then it wasn't truly a loss." With that, Professor McGonagall turned to Harry. "As for you, Harry, you've surprised me even more."

"Because of my Transfiguration?" Harry smiled wryly. He hadn't expected Professor McGonagall to be so sharp—to notice the key difference between his and Percy's spells. That was the mark of a true expert.

"Of course." Professor McGonagall scrutinized Harry, her gaze intense—

Honestly, and Harry felt a little guilty for thinking this, but her expression really looked as if she had just discovered a magical creature disguised as a human.

"Of course," she repeated. "If Percy was simply commanding each transformed object to attack independently, leaving them to act on their own, then you, Harry, were manually controlling each of your transfigured constructs—directing their limbs, making them react in real-time. That is truly astonishing."

"The amount of concentration required for that is several times greater than Percy's method. It's incredibly prone to mistakes, and you cannot afford to lose focus for even a second," Professor McGonagall said, looking utterly incredulous. "Yet, you pulled it off flawlessly. Even when Percy was exhausted, you still showed no sign of fatigue."

"Your willpower is remarkable, Harry," she praised, "as is your control. I'm beginning to believe what Professor Dumbledore told me about you."

"I can't help it, Professor," Harry sighed helplessly. "I just can't grasp how you all manage to give inanimate objects a temporary semblance of life. It's a bit… too mind-boggling for me."

"Still stuck on that issue?" Professor McGonagall nodded. "I understand. We'll discuss it further after the club meeting."

And so, for the remainder of the session… Harry had a rather peaceful time.

After all, Professor McGonagall had made things abundantly clear. Everyone was aware of Percy's skill level, and yet even he had lost.

So, quite simply—no one dared to challenge Harry anymore.

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