The morning of the European Dueling Championship final dawned bright and clear. The Palais de Duel was a hive of activity, with spectators queuing for hours to secure their seats. The air thrummed with excitement and speculation, the crowd's anticipation palpable.
Harry woke early, his mind already racing with strategies and counter-strategies. He went through his usual pre-duel routine: a light breakfast, some gentle stretching, and a brief meditation to center his magic. As he dressed in his dueling robes, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He was in a good state and ready to take on the best Europe had to offer.
Sirius and Flitwick accompanied him to the Palais, offering last-minute advice and encouragement. "Remember, Harry," Flitwick squeaked excitedly, his eyes shining with anticipation, "Volkov favors power over subtlety. Use that against him! Your agility and quick thinking could be the key!"
Sirius simply gripped Harry's shoulder, his eyes shining with pride. "You've got this, pup. Show them what a Potter can do. Your grandparents would be so proud."
As they entered the arena, the roar of the crowd was deafening. The stands were packed, with witches and wizards from across Europe eager to witness what promised to be a historic duel.
Harry surprisingly spotted several familiar faces in the crowd. His keen eyesight picked out Amelia, Susan, and Aries, waving enthusiastically. Near them were Emma and her husband David, Emma clutching a banner that read "Go, Harry!"
There had been no talk of them coming to the tournament, but here they were, a pleasant surprise that warmed Harry's heart. He waved back at them happily, his determination to win solidifying.
Viktor Volkov stood at the other end of the platform. The Russian champion cut an imposing figure, his battle-scarred face set in a mask of concentration. As their eyes met, Harry felt a jolt of anticipation. This was it - the final. He might have to go all out from the get go in this duel.
Madame Rousseau took the stage, her voice magically amplified. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the 127th European Dueling Championship! On my left, our reigning champion, Viktor Volkov!" The crowd roared its approval as Volkov raised his wand in acknowledgment. "And on my right, the surprise of the tournament, Hadrian Potter!"
The cheer that greeted Harry's name was, if anything, even louder. He had become the crowd favorite, the underdog they were all rooting for.
"Duelists, take your positions," Madame Rousseau commanded. Harry and Volkov approached the center of the platform, bowing formally to each other.
Volkov's eyes gleamed with respect and challenge. "Let's give them a duel to remember, young Potter," he said, his accent thick but his words clear.
Harry nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, Mr. Volkov. May the best wizard win."
"Begin!" Madame Rousseau's voice rang out.
The duel started with explosive intensity. Volkov lived up to his reputation, launching a barrage of spells that lit up the arena with their power.
"And they're off!" the commentator shouted. "Volkov opens with a devastating series of Blasting Curses! Potter's on the defensive already!"
Harry found himself immediately on the defensive, conjuring shields and dodging with every ounce of his agility. "Protego Maxima!" he cried, a shimmering barrier erupting from his wand just in time to deflect a particularly nasty hex.
For the first few minutes, it seemed Volkov had the upper hand. His spells came relentlessly, each one powerful enough to end the duel if it connected.
"Volkov's living up to his reputation, folks!" the commentator exclaimed. "He's not giving Potter a moment to breathe!"
But as had been the pattern in the tournament, Harry finished studying his opponent's style and slowly began to fight back, finding his rhythm. He started to see the patterns in Volkov's attacks, the brief pauses between barrages.
Seizing his chance, Harry launched a counterattack. "Fulgur Catena!" he shouted, a chain of lightning erupting from his wand. He mixed standard dueling spells with his signature lightning attacks, the electricity arcing across the platform in brilliant blue flashes.
"Merlin's beard!" the commentator cried. "Potter's fighting back with some extraordinary magic! I've never seen lightning wielded like this!"
Volkov, although well aware of Harry's style of fighting, was caught off guard by the unusual magic. Even though he was ready, facing the lightning waves in reality was difficult, and he was forced to give ground.
"Impressivo, Potter!" Volkov called out, a note of admiration in his voice as he conjured a shield to deflect the lightning. "But let's see how you handle this! Ignis Vortex!"
A swirling vortex of fire erupted from Volkov's wand, threatening to engulf Harry.
The duel became a breathtaking display of magical prowess. Volkov's raw power clashed with Harry's innovative techniques, creating spectacular magical effects that had the crowd gasping in awe. Shields shimmered and shattered, transfigured beasts clashed in mid-air, and the very air seemed to crackle with magical energy.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing history!" the commentator shouted, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Never in my years of commentating have I seen such a display of magical skill and power!"
As the duel approached the thirty-minute mark, both duelists were showing signs of fatigue. Volkov's attacks, while still powerful, were coming less frequently. Harry's movements, though still quick, had lost some of their earlier sharpness.
Harry this time was not holding back anything. He was giving it all, but Volkov was able to counter every one of his attacks and was not leaving him an opportunity to end the duel.
Then, after a few more exchanges of attacks, in a moment that would be replayed and analyzed for years to come, both duelists struck simultaneously. Volkov unleashed a massive fireball, while Harry countered with a lightning bolt of unprecedented power.
"Ignis Maxima!" Volkov roared. "Fulmen Ultimatum!" Harry cried.
The two spells met in the center of the platform with a thunderous explosion.
"Unbelievable!" the commentator screamed. "The very air is alight with magic!"
For a moment, the entire arena was blinded by the flash. When vision returned, both duelists were still standing, but barely. They stared at each other across the smoking platform, wands raised, each waiting for the other to make the final move.
In that moment of stillness, Harry made a move. The flash earlier gave him an inspiration. He jumped into the air and as Volkov watched with high focus, cast the brightest spell he had in his arsenal. "Lumos Solaris!" he shouted.
Volkov was caught off guard and completely blinded by the light. "Clever, Potter!" he grunted, casting random shield charms to protect himself.
Harry, using this opportunity, went behind the blind Volkov who was casting spells randomly to defend against Harry.
"Expelliarmus," Harry whispered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.
Volkov's wand flew from his hand, arcing high into the air before landing outside the platform. For a moment, silence reigned in the arena. Then, as the reality of what had just happened sank in, the crowd erupted in a deafening roar.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Madame Rousseau's voice cut through the noise, "I present to you the new European Dueling Champion, Hadrian Potter!"
As the crowd chanted his name, Harry stood in the center of the platform, barely able to believe what had just happened. The battle had been harder than he had anticipated, but he had done it. He had become the youngest European Dueling Champion in history.
Volkov approached him, a newfound respect in his eyes. "Congratulations, young Potter," he said, extending his hand. "You fought with strength and skill. You have earned this victory."
As Harry shook Volkov's hand, he felt a surge of emotions - pride, exhaustion, and above all, a sense of accomplishment. He had proven himself on the international stage, showcasing not just his power, but his ingenuity and determination. Now he could really say he had joined the ranks of powerful people in the wizarding world. This was truly a huge accomplishment.
As Sirius and Flitwick rushed onto the platform to congratulate him, Harry caught sight of his family in the stands and waved at them. They were joyous, with little Aries Black jumping up and down with joy. He was truly happy watching this sight. His hard work was worth it.
Harry knew that his performance here would have far-reaching consequences, both for his own future and for the wizarding world at large. There was a high chance he would lose more of his prophetic advantage in this world, but that was no longer an issue for Harry. He could not be limited by worry about the future. He was strong and trained to be stronger to ensure no amount of change in the future would trouble him.
As Harry raised the championship trophy high above his head, he put all his worries away and allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment. He was Harry Potter, the European Dueling Champion, and he was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.
Voldemort, you better be ready to face a powerful Harry Potter who does not need any manipulations, external strength, or fate to ensure he wins the final battle.