Voldemort drew his wand. "The last time we dueled, I took the first move. As a courtesy, this time, you may begin." His crimson eyes glinted with amusement as he addressed Augustus with the air of a gentleman.
Augustus smirked faintly, raising his silver wand toward the air. A flock of fiery red crows materialized, their bodies ablaze with intense flames. Heat surged through the confined room, filling it with scorching waves. The crimson crows dominated the air, flapping their wings and scattering sparks. With a sharp flick of Augustus's wand, the fiery flock shrieked and charged toward Voldemort.
Unperturbed, Voldemort pointed his wand skyward. "Barriers upon barriers." Invisible walls of air materialized in the room, intercepting the fire crows mid-flight. The birds collided with the barriers, igniting bursts of hot wind. Augustus flicked his wand again, and the flock froze in mid-air. The crows opened their flaming beaks in unison, unleashing torrents of searing fire that surged toward Voldemort from every direction.
Voldemort watched the incoming flames with a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. Pointing his wand to the ground, he summoned the massive green serpent from before. The emerald serpent hissed in delight at being called forth once again. It raised its head toward the fiery onslaught, spewing streams of dark, icy energy from its maw. The flames clashed with the serpent's dark torrents, creating bursts of energy that fell to the floor, corroding the wood into pitted holes.
Augustus waved his wand, dispelling the fiery crows. In their place, a translucent white hawk emerged, glowing with a crystalline sheen. The hawk let out a piercing cry, its amber eyes locking onto the green serpent below. Spotting its prey, the hawk dove with predatory precision.
The serpent's golden eyes flashed with disdain as it hissed threateningly. A split second later, golden beams of light shot from its gaze, targeting the descending hawk. With practiced grace, the hawk twisted and turned in the air, evading the serpentine beams. The beams struck the ceiling, transforming the wooden panels into cold, marble-like stone.
As the hawk closed in, it extended its sharp talons, raking them across the serpent's scales. Frost spread from the wounds, leaving trails of ice along the serpent's body. Hissing in pain and fury, the serpent lashed out with its massive tail. The hawk, caught off guard, was struck and sent spiraling through the air, a stark white scar forming on its wing.
Undeterred, the hawk emitted a sharp cry and began flapping its wings rapidly. The air around it swirled into a vortex, growing colder with each beat. Frosty winds coalesced into a stormy cyclone, spinning above the serpent and bearing down with chilling force.
The serpent raised its head again, unhurried, and unleashed a jet of black flame toward the cyclone. The dark fire fed on the winds, growing larger and more ferocious. In mere moments, the small flame engulfed half the room in shadowy infernos. The cyclone dissipated, and the hawk struggled to escape the encroaching flames. Trapped and unable to flee, it let out a mournful cry before being consumed, vanishing into the inferno.
The black flames, as if alive, turned their attention to Augustus. They surged toward him, filling the room with oppressive heat and darkness. Augustus, standing still, nodded slightly, his silver eyes reflecting a trace of acknowledgment.
"Fire, wind, earth, and water... Exploiting elemental weaknesses to perfection," he muttered to himself. "It seems your experience in combat is extensive."
Before Augustus could respond to the advancing flames, a sudden cry echoed through the room—a phoenix's call. The chamber was flooded with radiant light. The black flames, engulfed in the overwhelming brightness, dissipated like shadows under the sun.
Harry's vision blurred, the dazzling light obscuring everything but the silhouette of an elderly figure with a long beard standing resolute in the brilliance. The figure loomed like a god descending to the mortal world.
As the light faded, Harry felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. He plummeted into darkness, with a golden glimmer above him. Was it a Snitch? He reached out, but his arms were too heavy. Blinking hard, he realized it wasn't a Snitch but a pair of glasses. How odd.
After blinking again, Harry found himself staring into the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore, standing beside a calm Augustus.
"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore greeted warmly.
Harry stared blankly for a moment before suddenly remembering. "Sir! The Philosopher's Stone! Quirrell, he got it! You have to—"
"Relax, my dear boy," Dumbledore said soothingly. "What you're worried about is no longer an issue. The Stone has been moved to a secure location."
Harry swallowed, glancing around. He realized he was in the hospital wing, lying in a bed with crisp white sheets. Beside him, a small mountain of treats and sweets had piled up.
"Your friends and admirers sent those," Dumbledore chuckled. "Although I heard Fred and George Weasley tried to send a toilet seat as a joke. Madam Pomfrey deemed it unsanitary and confiscated it."
"How long have I been here?" Harry asked.
"Three days. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will be relieved to hear you're awake. They've been terribly worried."
"But the Stone, sir"
"You are relentless, Harry," Dumbledore remarked fondly. "Very well, let us talk about the Stone. Professor Quirrell failed to take it from you. Augustus here did an excellent job protecting it before I arrived. Voldemort fled when I intervened. But I must say, you handled yourself admirably."
Feeling reassured, Harry looked at Dumbledore and Augustus. A strange sense of peace washed over him, and moments later, he drifted back into unconsciousness.
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