Harry Potter: The Legend of Nero Ravenclaw

A few weeks after New Year, Nero found himself plagued by a nagging thought.

How much has he progressed since entering Hogwarts?

The secret dueling tournament orchestrated by Ember had been nothing short of chaos, but it had served as an unexpected gauge of his strength.

Against first-years, he had barely needed to exert himself. But that was a given. His past-life memories provided him an immense advantage. The real question was: how far had he truly come? After all, his goal was to reach the apex of magic.

His usual sharp mind refused to let the question go. It was one thing to be the strongest among his peers, but against upper years? Professors? That was another story entirely. He needed a proper benchmark.

And so, he made his way to the one place that might give him an answer, the Room of Requirement.

Nero stood before the blank stretch of stone wall on the seventh floor, pacing three times in front of it with a clear goal in mind.

"I need a place to test my limits."

The door materialized in front of him with a whisper of magic. Pushing it open, he stepped inside and took in the sight before him.

The Room had reshaped itself into a grand coliseum, its stone floor scuffed and cracked as though it had already seen years of combat.

Floating orbs of light illuminated the battlefield, casting an eerie glow over the empty arena. Rows of shadowy, indistinct spectators filled the stands, purely for atmosphere, he assumed. At the far end, an array of dueling dummies and magical constructs stood motionless, awaiting his command.

He exhaled. This will do.

With a flick of his wand, the test began.

The first wave was simple target practice: wooden dummies enchanted to move unpredictably across the battlefield.

Bang! A red light shot from his wand, Stupefy. The dummy dodged, shifting at the last second. He twisted his wrist, seamlessly transitioning into Expelliarmus without missing a beat. The spell hit, sending the dummy flying back.

Nero moved swiftly, alternating between offensive and defensive spells without pause. Stunning spells, hexes, disarming attempts. Each flick of his wand was precise, controlled, relentless. His barrier magic came into play, shaping protective shields on instinct, redirecting spells to ricochet and strike secondary targets.

The speed test escalated. The dummies started fighting back.

A barrage of Stupefy, Rictusempra, and Petrificus Totalus fired toward him. He countered the first two with barriers, then sidestepped the third. The Room adjusted, increasing the pressure, forcing him to react faster, sharper, smarter.

Five minutes in, none of the dummies remained standing.

Too easy.

The Room answered his challenge.

With a pulse of magic, it summoned ten dueling figures, each resembling a skilled Hogwarts student from different houses. Some wielded wands. Others incorporated physical attacks, blending their magic with sheer agility.

Nero grinned. That's more like it.

The battle erupted in a flash of light.

A Ravenclaw illusion fired a silent Incarcerous, ropes launching toward him like snakes. Nero sidestepped, but a Gryffindor opponent hurled Confringo, forcing him to raise a barrier, just in time for a Hufflepuff to cast Diffindo, slashing the shield apart.

They were coordinating.

Good.

He adjusted his stance, flicking his wand in a circular motion. A spherical barrier expanded outward, knocking back three opponents in a single pulse. Before they could recover, he cast razor-sharp winds to disrupt the spellcasters' focus.

A Slytherin figure surged forward, moving fast, launching a rapid succession of hexes. Nero ducked, weaved, parried, his own spells dancing between attacks with terrifying precision.

Then, two spells came at him simultaneously: Reducto from the left, Bombarda from the right.

Nero acted without thinking. His barrier split into two layers, curving both spells away, sending one crashing into a Gryffindor opponent and the other collapsing part of the arena wall.

One after another, his opponents fell, overwhelmed by pure efficiency.

The final student illusion remained, a representation of a skilled fourth-year. Stronger. Faster. More unpredictable.

Their wands clashed in an invisible battle of counter-curses and spell deflections. Nero matched every strike, but he felt the strain creeping in. This is what I need.

With a deep breath, he executed his trump card, a barrier trick he had been developing.

As the illusion fired a lethal Blasting Curse, Nero conjured a reflective barrier, but instead of simply bouncing the spell back, he twisted it, altering its trajectory midair. The illusion barely had time to react before its own curse struck it down.

Victory.

Nero stood amidst the silence, panting slightly. The Room reset itself, removing the damage as though nothing had happened.

His assessment?

Against first-years, he was untouchable.

Against older students? He had the skill but needed more power, endurance, and creativity.

His barriers were strong, but adaptable opponents could break through.

His spell repertoire was advanced, but he relied too much on countering rather than initiating.

He was also severely lacking in combat experience.

He had grown immensely since the start of the year.

But it wasn't enough.

He needed to further practice silent casting. He needed to refine wandless magic. He needed to develop barrier-enhanced mobility, something to keep up with faster duelists.

And above all, he needed to prepare for threats beyond schoolyard duels.

Nero exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

This was a good start.

But it was only the beginning.

(Next chapter: time skip to the end of the 1st year)

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2nd chapter of the day! (2/3)

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