Truly powerful creatures don't need to adapt to their environment; the areas they tread upon are corrupted into a form that suits their comfort.
If any Hogwarts staff or students could visit the castle's underground classrooms at this moment, they would be astonished to find that these once-familiar rooms had transformed into something utterly unrecognizable—a demonic lair.
The stone floors were corroded, pockmarked with craters, and dotted with puddles of yellowish-green pus. Massive white spider webs stretched from the ceiling to the outer corridors, with tiny spider-like nerubians skittering across them from time to time.
Clusters of spider eggs were piled on the ground, pulsing faintly as if new monsters might burst forth at any moment.
For fel-infused demonic creatures, whose very essence was carved with slaughter and destruction, waging war and launching invasions in a short time was almost second nature.
This nerubian clan operated with practiced precision, as if following a well-rehearsed playbook for invading another world. Adult nerubians occasionally emerged through a portal blazing with fel flames, some in half-human, half-spider forms, others humanoid with bony wings.
The mere presence of these demons spread fel corruption across the world. The air grew foul, the land withered, and because of this, the elemental spirits that had come to life in the Hogwarts region were the first to retaliate. They could not tolerate their territory being defiled in such a way.
For the awakened elementals, this was also a war, and they were eager to fight alongside humans.
When Harry caught sight of the castle's silhouette from afar, he immediately recognized the situation—it was a scene he had witnessed far too many times.
"Fel magic?! Demons are here?!"
Even though he had mentally prepared himself for the possibility of demons, the reality of Dumbledore's mysterious disappearance and demons attacking Hogwarts weighed heavily on Harry's heart. It meant the world's current chaos might truly be orchestrated by demons behind the scenes, and the intensity of the battles would escalate. Even he might fall in combat.
But there was no time to dwell on such sorrow. Harry drew his warhammer and raised it high, shouting, "For Hogwarts! Charge with me!!!"
"For Hogwarts!!"
The response was deafening. Behind Harry stood Fudge and a contingent of Aurors and Hit Wizards from the Ministry of Magic. He had originally planned to use the Floo Network connection between the Ministry and the Headmaster's office to reach Hogwarts directly, but no matter how the Floo Network Authority staff tried, the usually seamless connection refused to work.
Thus, Harry and Fudge had to Apparate to Hogsmeade first, then—well—run toward Hogwarts on foot.
Demons were pouring out from the castle's lower levels, having already overrun the Great Hall and the main entrance. The defenders, led by Professor McGonagall, had retreated to the Astronomy Tower. Some nerubians had even broken out of the castle, charging toward the Great Totem and the Forbidden Forest.
For a demonic race like the nerubians, laying their eggs in foreign soil meant the war was already half-won.
If not for the endless stream of elemental spirits answering the call, rushing from the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake to engage the nerubians on the open ground outside the castle, the situation would likely have deteriorated beyond salvation before the Ministry's forces arrived.
Earth elementals thundered across the ground, the very embodiment of the land itself. The churning earth buried nerubians beneath stone and soil, or their massive fists pummeled the aranasi warriors into pulp.
"Merlin's pants! What kind of monsters are these?!"
It wasn't just Fudge who let out such an exclamation. For many Hit Wizards and Aurors, living in a world dominated by humans, they could scarcely imagine a day when they'd have to fight creatures like these—not Dark wizards or smugglers, but beings straight out of myth and legend, like demons.
"Stay calm! These demons aren't invincible!" Harry shouted, charging at the front line. With a swing of his warhammer, he smashed the head of an aranasi nerubian into pieces. "Use the most lethal spells you can think of! Ordinary wizarding magic won't do enough damage! Minister Fudge!!"
"I know!" Fudge gritted his teeth and declared, "In the name of the Minister for Magic, I declare a state of emergency wartime measures—effective immediately, all Aurors and Hit Wizards are released from restrictions on the Unforgivable Curses! Defend Hogwarts!!"
Truth be told, Fudge's voice was trembling, almost breaking into a sob. He deeply regretted coming along and wished he'd resigned and fled days ago. It was far too late now.
Unlike the visibly shaken Fudge, Rufus Scrimgeour, the grizzled Head of the Auror Office, was far braver than his Minister. He fought on the front lines alongside Harry, directing the Aurors with precision.
None of the Aurors shrank from the fight. Once Fudge lifted the restrictions, many didn't hesitate to unleash spells that were unmistakably Dark magic.
During the war against Voldemort twelve years ago, to counter the ruthless and unscrupulous Death Eaters, Aurors had been permitted to bend the rules. Even the Unforgivable Curses were excusable, provided they could prove afterward that their targets were confirmed criminals or known Death Eaters.
Now, the ban was lifted again, but this time, their enemies weren't fellow wizards—they were legendary demons.
With no further hesitation, the Aurors unleashed their full power, a force meant for moments like this. Harry flung his suitcase to the ground and kicked it open, shouting, "Come out, Ragehorn!!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, a wave of icy air surged from the suitcase's opening. To the stunned gazes of the Aurors, a massive ice-blue creature burst forth from the seemingly narrow suitcase mouth!!
Thanks to a certain Magizoologist who frequently let magical creatures escape, Ministry employees were no strangers to such spectacles. But even so—
"Is that—a dragon?!!"
An Auror couldn't help but cry out.
"What kind of dragon is that?!"
"I've never seen a dragon like that!!"
"My God, it's gorgeous!!"
And gorgeous it was. Emerging from the suitcase's pocket dimension, Ragehorn reveled in the true air of the natural world. Sunlight gleamed off her ice-blue body, refracting into dazzling colors. She roared, then dove from the sky!
Her jaws opened wide, unleashing not the fiery breath of a typical dragon, but a pale, galaxy-like cascade of frost—bringing cold and subzero temperatures!
Frost Breath!!
Such a massive creature—oh, not a summoned beast, but a living entity—dominated the battlefield. Ragehorn paid no mind to the elementals still fighting, as they, being elemental themselves, couldn't truly die. Her frost breath blanketed both the aranasi nerubians and the elementals.
In an instant, the nerubians were frozen into shimmering ice sculptures, shattered into fragments by the elementals' attacks.
With a single breath, Ragehorn had cleared every demon from the castle's entrance. Soaring through the sky, she roared in satisfaction at the devastation she'd wrought.
"Is that a dragon, Professor Potter?" Scrimgeour asked, smashing a frozen demon with a Stunning Spell as he approached Harry. "Why did a dragon come out of your suitcase?"
As Head of the Auror Office, tasked with apprehending smugglers and poachers, Scrimgeour's expression was understandably complex.
"Of course not," Harry replied without missing a beat. "Ragehorn is an elemental creature. You saw her body—it's made of ice crystals. She just looks a bit like a dragon. There's no dragon like this in the wizarding world, right? So she's not a dragon."
"…You're not the first to say something like that, Professor Potter," Scrimgeour said flatly. "Another troublemaker says the same thing… but fine."
"Don't scatter! Coordinate your attacks!" Scrimgeour didn't spare a glance at Fudge, who was cowering behind the group. Instead, he turned to Harry. "Professor, you seem to know these monsters well?"
In such a critical moment, Scrimgeour wasn't about to waste time on trivial matters—especially when they had a positive impact.
"I do, but now's not the time for details. We need to support Professor McGonagall," Harry said gravely. "Your Aurors are impressive fighters."
Harry had noticed several times how the Aurors took advantage of the demons' clashes with elementals to land sneak attacks with Dark magic, efficiently eliminating their foes. Compared to ordinary wizards, these Aurors were formidable.
"Moody taught us well," Scrimgeour said, a faint smile crossing his lion-like face. He didn't elaborate, instead asking, "Since you know these demons, Professor Potter, what should we do next?"
If it were an ordinary wizard, Scrimgeour wouldn't have been so deferential, let alone take orders during such a tense wartime situation. But Professor Potter was exceptional. His accomplishments and the sight of him charging ahead, smashing a demon's skull with his warhammer, had thoroughly impressed the Aurors—and Scrimgeour. He knew he couldn't have done the same at Harry's age, neither in magical prowess nor courage.
Leave professional matters to professionals. Since Professor Potter understood these demons, Scrimgeour would follow his lead.
"The elementals told me Professor McGonagall's group is holding out in the Astronomy Tower. You remember how to get there, right?" Harry asked.
"Of course. I'll never forget Hogwarts," Scrimgeour replied.
"Good. Take the Aurors to reinforce McGonagall. Leave the fighting outside to the elementals—they're better suited for open terrain. We must reclaim Hogwarts," Harry said firmly. "Don't worry about the castle's damage. As long as the people are safe, we can rebuild."
"Understood. What about you, Professor Potter?" Scrimgeour asked.
"I need to get to the Headmaster's office," Harry said, his expression grave. "I don't know why the Floo connection to the office is severed. Dumbledore kept something important there, and I need to check on it. The demons' presence at Hogwarts is no accident—it's a planned attack. Someone inside the castle must have guided them here; otherwise, they couldn't have crossed into this world."
"I see," Scrimgeour said, giving Harry a long look. "Be careful, Professor Potter."
No time for hesitation, Scrimgeour decisively led the Aurors toward the Astronomy Tower.
The open ground outside the castle had been cleared by Ragehorn and the other elementals, though demons continued to pour out from within.
Unstoppable, the frost-incarnate dragon (or rather, ascended elemental) had fully awakened her bloodthirsty instincts. She craved more opportunities to unleash her power.
With Harry's permission, Ragehorn soared above Hogwarts' perimeter, her frost breath sweeping over demons emerging from the castle, as well as those exposed in outer corridors and courtyards.
With the situation tentatively under control—at least the demons hadn't reached Hogsmeade or corrupted the Forbidden Forest—Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He'd feared Hogwarts was already lost, fully overtaken by demons and transformed into a fel-fortified stronghold for their invasion.
After coordinating with the elementals, Harry rushed into the castle, taking a different path from the Aurors and heading toward the eighth-floor Headmaster's office.
The areas Harry passed through were completely overrun by demons. Everywhere he looked, he saw armor—iron or stone—destroyed by fel magic. Demon corpses littered the ground, though, naturally, there were far more living demons than dead ones.
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