At eight in the evening, Harry and Hermione returned to the Great Hall.
The long dining tables had vanished. Along one wall, a gilded stage had been set up, lit by hundreds of floating candles above. The ceiling once again resembled a velvet-white sky. Nearly all the students in the school had come—at least six hundred of them—crammed together, wands in hand, all looking excited.
Hermione said, "Professor Flitwick was once an International Dueling Champion. I wonder if he'll be the one teaching us."
She suddenly groaned. "Ugh, it's him…"
Gilderoy Lockhart had stepped onto the stage, dressed in a bright magenta robe, dazzling like a peacock.
And standing beside him—none other than Snape, still in his usual black robes.
Lockhart waved for everyone to quiet down and then shouted, "Gather round, everyone, gather round!"
Seeing so many students present, his eyes flashed with delight. He knew this move had been the right one—his fame was about to explode.
"Well, due to recent events, I requested that Professor Dumbledore allow me to start this little Dueling Club, to train you up—just in case you ever need to defend yourselves. Learning how to duel might come in handy one day," he said with a cough.
"For more detailed self-defense techniques, see my books," he added proudly.
"This is your Potions professor, Professor Snape. I invited him to be my assistant. At the beginning of each lesson, we'll demonstrate the spell we'll be practicing, and show you the proper way to duel."
He chuckled. "Now don't worry, I won't hurt Professor Snape."
Both Harry and Snape scoffed silently.
Lockhart and Snape stood on the stage. Lockhart looked more like a performer than a duelist. He bowed theatrically and said, "Never forget proper manners and etiquette!"
Snape didn't move, face full of impatience. Lockhart was secretly pleased. Exactly. Snape was the perfect pick. No grace, no manners—it's no wonder none of the students like him. And being a Potions master, he probably has no idea how to duel either. I'll win easily.
"Alright, I'll count to three, and we'll cast together."
Snape looked bored. It had been ten years since his last duel—and now his opponent was this clown.
"One, two, three."
Even distracted, Snape reacted instantly.
"Expelliarmus!" A flash of red light shot out. Lockhart hadn't even raised his wand before his entire body was blasted off his feet, like he'd been hit by a train.
He wasn't badly hurt, quickly climbing back on stage and smoothing his hair. "That was just to demonstrate the power of the Disarming Charm. I knew exactly what spell Snape would use. Not to brag, but I could've countered that spell in over a hundred ways…"
Snape's eyes turned ice-cold. Lockhart shivered.
"Alright, demonstration over! Let's bring up two students for a demonstration match. Then you'll all be paired off to practice."
"Anyone want to volunteer?" Lockhart looked around. Most students lowered their heads—what if they embarrassed themselves?
Then Lockhart smiled slyly. "How about the famous Harry Potter? Mr. Potter, of course you can decline if you're not feeling well." He gave Harry a wink.
Laughter erupted. Many students glanced mockingly at Harry.
"Professor, Harry Potter is so powerful—one opponent isn't enough. He should duel two people at once!" a malicious voice rang out.
Others nodded in agreement. "Yeah!"
Snape's gaze turned frigid. He scanned the crowd for the speaker.
Harry's expression remained unchanged. He stepped onto the stage and looked toward someone hiding in the back. "Heh. Trash." His contempt was plain.
The tall, burly boy flushed, not expecting to be called out. "What did you say? You lookin' down on us?"
With that "us," he placed Harry in opposition to the entire crowd.
Harry looked apologetic. "I'm sorry…"
The boy felt a rush of smugness. So much for the famous Harry Potter—already backing down.
But Harry's next words thundered like a bolt from the blue. He looked at the crowd, sincerely apologetic: "I'm not targeting anyone in particular. I'm saying—all of you are trash!"
An infamous line from his past life, it hit like a nuke. The hall fell silent.
Snape's mouth twitched open… then shut again.
Harry stood tall. "Two opponents? Not enough. I'll take all of you on!"
The students were about to explode.
One hothead cursed, "Screw you, Harry Potter! I could crush you with one hand!"
Harry smirked. "No more yapping. I said I'll crush you all—and I will."
"I, Harry Potter, always keep my word."
Lockhart, eager to stir chaos, exclaimed, "Wonderful! Then at my signal, the duel begins!"
Snape glared at him like he wanted to cast the Killing Curse.
"Wait," Harry suddenly said.
"What, scared now?" a few students jeered.
Harry smiled calmly. "Of course not. Hermione, Astoria—come up here and stand behind Professor Snape."
Zhang Qiu didn't like this sort of duel, so she hadn't come.
Hermione was about to check his head for fever.
Astoria excitedly waved her hands. "Go, brother! Knock them all down!"
Six hundred students—that's an army. Toss a grenade and you'd paint the ceiling red.
Snape glanced at the two girls behind him, unreadable.
Sure, Harry could just teleport away. But he had no intention of running. In his eyes, wizard duels were childish—like a turn-based game. Even Dumbledore and Voldemort didn't escape that rule: whoever cast first usually won.
And these students? They had never experienced real combat. Fighting them was like fighting Muggles.
Lockhart raised his wand. "Ready… go!"
Hundreds of wands—uh, chopsticks—swung toward Harry.
With a single snap of his fingers, everyone fell silent mid-spell. Their mouths moved, but no sound came.
Chaos.
"Nonverbal spell… and wandless casting? He's already mastered that?" Snape was stunned.
For lower years who hadn't learned nonverbal spells, being silenced was like being disarmed. Even older students, though they'd been taught, couldn't use them well—and panic only made things worse.
Harry snapped his fingers again.
They weren't giving up. There were hundreds of them! Surely Harry couldn't defeat them all?
They had no idea what was coming.
Smoke billowed at Harry's feet. A large serpent slithered forth—thick as a wrist, its body a shimmering violet.
It curled up his leg and rose until its head was level with his.
Harry stroked its head. It closed its eyes, as if pleased.
Then it opened them—soft purple eyes glowing with a strange light. As it turned its gaze upon the crowd, students collapsed like dominoes.
Soon, everyone was down—except Snape, Hermione, Astoria, and even Lockhart was on the floor.
One person downed an entire school.
Snape frowned. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"
Later, lying in bed, Harry asked himself the same thing.
When he'd learned that Voldemort had ordered the basilisk to kill Justin, he could have intervened—but he hadn't. Instead, he had gone along with it. Why?
Because he wanted to see what would happen when everyone hated and feared him.
He'd even deliberately used a Slytherin trademark—a snake-related dark spell. But why?
After thinking for a long time, Harry finally realized:
He was bored.
He was an adult soul. First-year had been fun—a nostalgic return to school life. But now, everything about second year annoyed him. The childish spells. The repetitive classes. Every day felt like clocking in.
He couldn't be a grown man sitting in elementary school, pretending to take addition and subtraction seriously. He wasn't a certain famous detective.
His biggest passion had been the Restricted Section of the library. But even that was starting to lose its shine.
He wanted to be his real self—not play student anymore.
So he did this.
He wanted to see what Dumbledore would do next.
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THE REBIRTH OF HARRY POTTER
⚡🦉 THE REBIRTH OF HARRY POTTER 🦉⚡
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📢 MAGIC REBORN! 📢
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The wizarding world is changing.
Old destinies twist, familiar names return under new shadows, and magic itself may follow a different path this time.
🪄 A second chance.🌙 A different fate.⚡ A wizarding world reborn.
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