Marvel's Hogwarts Professor

Hydra Underground Base – Houston, USA: Arsenal

The silver-white floor of the arsenal hall was littered with the lifeless bodies of Hydra soldiers, each one a testament to the wizards' magic and the sheer power they wielded. The initial skirmish had ended decisively, with the guards defeated, their weapons clattering uselessly on the ground.

But before the silence could settle, the sound of reinforcements echoed through the corridor as more Hydra agents poured in, clad in dark combat uniforms and gripping their rifles with renewed intensity. The roar of gunfire erupted, filling the vast hall as bullets tore through the air toward the line of wizards.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ian, standing firmly at the forefront, watched as bullets hurtled toward him, his calm expression betraying no fear. His wand held steady, and before the bullets reached their mark, they met a shimmering, pale-golden shield of magical energy that absorbed each impact. The shield flickered and dimmed under the onslaught, but Ian maintained his stance, channeling more magic as needed.

Behind him, the other wizards observed the shield, noting its subtle fluctuations. Sensing its weakening, they moved their wands in unison, adding their strength to bolster the barrier.

With a satisfied nod, Ian turned to the young wizards behind him, his voice clear and instructive. "Remember, here in the Muggle world, a hail of bullets is their most common form of attack. That means defensive spells like this are essential—a skill you must master if you're to survive and protect others."

Across the hall, the Hydra agents looked increasingly frustrated. Their relentless barrage had barely scratched the surface, and some began to feel the futility of their assault. To them, it was as if the wizards were toying with them, studying their every move.

"Requesting immediate backup!" a panicked agent yelled into his radio. "We need heavier artillery—rocket launchers, if possible!"

Ian noted this, but didn't respond, instead continuing his instructions. This mission, after all, was about more than defeating Hydra. Its purpose was to provide the young wizards with hands-on battle experience, giving them a glimpse of what lay beyond the safe confines of their classrooms and training grounds.

Recalling his own early battles under Lockhart's mentorship, Ian knew his responsibility extended beyond mere leadership. His role was to pass on both his skills and the valuable lessons learned from countless encounters, ensuring his peers would be ready for the inevitable, greater threats ahead.

"These Muggles have their own form of 'wands,'" Ian continued, gesturing to the agents and their firearms. "And some of their weapons hold enough power to rival the spells we cast. The most devastating of these is the nuclear bomb, and I cannot stress enough the importance of avoiding it. Even the strongest wizards must respect its destructive force."

The students listened intently, their faces reflecting a blend of awe and resolve as they clutched their wands a bit tighter, mentally preparing for whatever came next.

At that moment, Ian's sharp eyes caught sight of a few Hydra agents crouching strategically across the hall. They held a trio of rocket launchers, primed and aimed directly at his team.

"This is it!" he announced to the group, loud enough for all to hear. "Our opponents have brought out their rocket launchers—a weapon capable of overwhelming even the best defensive spells. But there's a way to counter it."

With the words barely leaving his lips, the launchers fired in unison, sending three rockets careening toward them, trailing thick plumes of white smoke.

In an instant, Ian's wand shot forward. "Transform!" he commanded.

With a rapid series of clicks and mechanical groans, steel walls erupted from the floor between the wizards and the rockets. The walls rose quickly, thickening as they went, forming a sturdy barricade.

The first two walls managed to withstand the rockets, but it was the final wall, thicker than the rest, that absorbed the full impact.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The shockwaves rattled the entire hall, and the students instinctively covered their ears, ducking as flames and smoke engulfed the steel barricades. The explosions echoed off the metal walls, but the wizards were shielded from the worst of the blast.

As the smoke began to clear, the students looked around in astonishment at the defensive barricade Ian had conjured.

"This is why we rely on transformation spells when defending against explosives," Ian said, his voice steady despite the residual energy in the air. "When faced with projectiles like rockets, create solid barriers to detonate them at a distance. Never rely on a single defensive spell alone."

A faint smile tugged at Ian's lips as he glanced at the students' expressions of awe and newfound respect.

"Proper defenses are essential. Always keep magic items for protection on hand," he advised, motioning for them to prepare their wands again.

The Hydra agents, meanwhile, were reeling, dismayed to find that their heaviest weaponry had done little more than scorch the floor. Worse, the wizards appeared unfazed, their shields quickly restored, ready for more.

Seizing the moment, Ian issued his next command. "Drop the defensive barrier. Attack at will—give them everything you've got."

As the golden shield shimmered and faded, the students didn't hesitate. Spells surged forward, illuminating the hall in bright, explosive bursts of color.

Ian positioned himself against the wall, observing with a quiet intensity, ready to intervene if things took a sudden turn.

Expelliarmus!

Stupefy!

Diffindo!

Blue, green, and silvery light filled the room, each spell expertly aimed as it streaked toward the enemy. The Hydra agents retaliated with renewed gunfire, bullets mingling with the hum of magic as they ricocheted off hastily cast Protego spells.

One student, Dawson, spotted an agent hurling a grenade. Reacting swiftly, he raised his wand, remembering Ian's instructions.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The grenade changed trajectory, hovering briefly before Dawson sent it spiraling back toward its origin.

Boom!

Hydra agents dove for cover, panic evident on their faces as the grenade exploded, scattering smoke and debris.

As the seconds passed, gunfire and shouts of pain grew sporadic, until silence settled over the hall. Smoke drifted in lazy clouds, casting an eerie glow as it mingled with the magical residue left by their spells.

Taking in the scene, Ian nodded, a proud smile softening his features. The mission was nearly complete. All that remained was securing the central command room.

But just as he prepared to gather the group, a strange, sinister noise cut through the silence, sending a shiver down his spine.

Sssszzzz…

Ian glanced at the floor in shock. Dark mist began to seep from the bodies of the fallen Hydra soldiers, thick and oily as it pooled into streams of putrid blood. Slowly, the blood began to snake along the floor, forming ominous patterns that pulsed with a sinister energy.

"Regroup—now!" Ian commanded, his voice filled with urgency.

Raising his wand high, Ian cast an eradication spell. "Deletrius!"

A beam of soft, milky light shot from his wand, striking the blood and disrupting its movement. But even as the blood wavered, it continued to flow, undeterred, across the floor.

"Contact Professor Snape!" Ian ordered, his voice sharp with tension. "Quickly—cast Deletrius on the blood!"

The students responded at once, some frantically casting Deletrius while others activated their Golden Dragon Marks to try to reach Snape. Yet despite their efforts, the professor was nowhere to be seen.

A sense of dread settled over Ian as he activated his own Dragon Mark, sending a desperate call to Snape.

The reply was swift but ominous: "Encountering spatial obstruction—Apparition blocked. Be on guard and resist. We're on our way."

Relieved but wary, Ian refocused on the blood patterns, which had morphed into a dense mist, gathering into a roughly human shape.

"Prepare yourselves!" he ordered, raising his voice. "Everyone, Thunder Bolt Spell!"

Ian remembered Lockhart's words: the best defense is a fierce offense. Channeling his mentor's teachings, he drew his wand back, bracing himself.

The students, responding as one, raised their wands, summoning bolts of blue lightning that crackled through the air before merging into a single, powerful strike that hurtled toward the mist.

The black fog thickened, shifting as it absorbed the energy, forming a dark shield. Despite the intensity of their spell, the shield held, surrounded by faint black lines that pulsed with an eerie, dark energy.

From within the black mist, a figure began to emerge—a man, his skin marked with dark runes, his eyes black as the void, radiating an aura of pure, menacing power.

Ian's heart pounded, but he forced himself to stay calm. His mind raced as he realized who he was facing: a Dormammu disciple, one of the dark followers of the dread lord himself.

"Thunder Cage—now!" he shouted, his voice fierce as he rallied the students to their next move.

In perfect harmony, the students cast a spell that surrounded the dark disciple with thick walls of crackling, blue electricity. The air vibrated with magic as the thunder cage closed around their foe.

The figure, unfazed, smirked. He raised his fists, wrapped in a thick, dark mist, and smashed them against the thunder cage, sending waves of distortion through the spell.

Every punch drained Ian's magic, his reserves dwindling as he struggled to keep the cage intact.

But just as his energy was waning, a familiar voice echoed through the hall, filling him with relief.

"Ian, I'm here!" Professor Snape's voice called out, strong and reassuring.

Help had arrived.

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