The arrows ford from shattered glass had not yet reached their target when they dissolved into blossoms under the pressure of overwhelming magic.
Pink petals drifted down around Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall, standing on the first floor, had not yet grasped what was happening.
Seeing the falling figure descending rapidly toward the ground, she instinctively cast a spell to slow his fall.
"Ah—thank you very much, Professor McGonagall."
Dawn landed lightly on the ground and smiled.
The familiar face made the witch in green robes freeze.
"You are Dawn Richter?"
She stared at him in disbelief. The newspapers had clearly reported his death. Yet here he stood before her.
Dawn opened his mouth to speak.
But in the next mont his ankle twisted sharply, and he threw himself sideways.
A rope that burst from the ground missed him completely.
Dumbledore appeared beside them instantly, arriving on the first floor with the help of Fawkes.
"Wait—Albus, what is happening? That is Mr. Richter, isn't it? But he died!"
McGonagall had finally regained her senses.
Without turning his head, Dumbledore replied quietly while watching Dawn.
"I'm sorry, Minerva. I will explain later. For now, could you please return to the Great Hall and protect the students?"
His calm tone steadied her.
McGonagall stepped back and positioned herself in front of the hall entrance.
Dawn wasted no more words.
Facing Dumbledore's solemn gaze, he attacked first.
Fiendfyre erupted again.
With a wave of his hand, an ocean of flas surged upward, forming birds and spears that rained down from the sky.
After his earlier experience balancing magic, Dawn's control had improved dramatically. Even shaping Fiendfyre into various forms now ca easily to him.
"You've grown stronger, Dawn," Dumbledore remarked, watching the blazing inferno.
Red spells shot from his side, intercepting each fla precisely.
The spells collided with thunderous explosions.
Then the snow on the ground suddenly twisted into ropes and whipped toward Dawn. But under the blue Fiendfyre, they quickly turned to ash.
"Headmaster, those outdated tricks aren't necessary," Dawn said softly.
He narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore, thinking about his next move.
Although this duel served partly to test his current strength, Dawn fully intended to kill Dumbledore if possible.
Yet judging from the fight so far, he was still weaker in raw power.
Even the trick of secondary magic manipulation had only managed to slice Dumbledore's robe.
Then suddenly—
While he was thinking—
A flash of silver light appeared at the edge of his vision. The wall of fire around him split open unexpectedly.
From the gap, a strand of steel wire shot through and wrapped tightly around his body.
Dumbledore had forcibly seized control of Dawn's Fiendfyre.
Dawn's eyelid twitched. He had been distracted for only a mont, and the opportunity had been taken.
He began forming a blasting curse in his chest.
But before the magic erged, the steel wire suddenly turned back into snowflakes.
From the swirling snow, a spell shot forward and struck Dawn directly in the chest.
Dumbledore had converted the magic sustaining his transfiguration into a Stunning Spell.
Dawn cursed inwardly.
He Apparated away just before losing consciousness and hurriedly drank a potion.
Cold liquid slid down his throat.
Unfortunately, it was not the powerful restorative brewed by Slughorn. Against Dumbledore's spell, its effect was limited.
Dawn still felt dizzy.
However, after completing his magical creature transformation, the outermost layer of his body granted him the resistance of a phoenix.
He retained enough strength to keep moving.
Dumbledore wasted no ti.
Gripping the delicate bracelet in his pocket, he sent another Stunning Spell and conjured steel cords racing toward Dawn.
But they struck only a flicker of fire.
Dawn Apparated again to avoid them.
Dumbledore frowned.
Apparition gave an enormous advantage when evading attacks.
Glancing at Fawkes on his shoulder, he prepared himself for a prolonged battle.
Dawn reappeared and imdiately dove aside, forcing himself to shake off the dizziness from repeated Apparitions.
"You're truly impressive, Headmaster. I thought my precision with magic had nearly caught up to yours."
He took a deep breath.
With a levitation charm, he lifted a clump of snow from the ground and slowly shaped it into a dagger.
Looking at Dumbledore, he smiled without emotion.
"It seems I must show my true abilities."
In the next instant—
Blood sprayed through the air.
The dagger flashed across Dawn's wrist.
His flesh split open.
Hot blood poured onto the scorched ground like crimson blossoms blooming on snow.
"What is he doing?" soone asked curiously nearby.
McGonagall shook her head instinctively.
"I have no idea."
But she suddenly froze.
The doors of the Great Hall had opened slightly, and several small heads were stacked on top of each other, peeking outside.
"rlin's beard! What are you doing here? Go back inside imdiately!"
McGonagall nearly fainted with frustration.
Yet the battle outside was both terrifying and fascinating, and the students ignored her orders.
Ron, squashed at the bottom, whispered to Harry.
"Do you think that's really him? Dawn Richter is supposed to be dead. The Daily Prophet even printed pictures of his body!"
"I don't know," Harry replied.
But rembering the spells they had just witnessed, he doubted it.
How could a wizard their age hold his own against the greatest wizard alive?
anwhile, Hermione was craning her neck at the top of the pile, staring at the familiar yet impossible figure.
"rlin's beard," she muttered repeatedly.
McGonagall raised her wand, intending to shut the door. But then she caught sight of sothing that made her eyes widen in disbelief.
"That's impossible!"
She turned back sharply.
From the pool of blood on the ground burst a massive thunderbird with snow-white feathers and multiple wings.
With a cry, it summoned storm clouds overhead.
McGonagall blinked.
For a mont she wondered if she was hallucinating. Then another creature crawled out of the blood.
A monstrous Acromantula the size of a carriage.
"Ahhh!" Ron scread and covered his eyes.
Dawn paid no attention to the commotion.
Watching the creatures he had created, a delighted smile spread across his face.
Since understanding the function of the black lines within magical patterns, he had gained the ability to transform ordinary objects or creatures into magical beasts.
But because of World Correction, he could not use this power freely during battle.
However, after discovering that even a single drop of blood carried the altered pattern from the Luckspring transformation, he had devised a clever solution.
If he used his own body as the material, the transformation would not trigger World Correction.
"A master of magical creatures? I can do that too."
He smiled slightly and prepared to overwhelm Dumbledore with numbers.
Dumbledore watched as magical beasts climbed from the blood pool, shifting from flat patterns into living forms.
Even he, a master of transfiguration, had never imagined witnessing such a phenonon.
When the thunderbird called lightning down upon itself, he finally confird they were not re illusions.
Raising the Elder Wand, he cast a Stunning Spell.
The thunderbird was struck mid-flight and crashed to the ground.
Though shocked by Dawn's achievent, Dumbledore could still handle several magical beasts at once.
He continued attacking Dawn without losing control of the battlefield.
___________
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