Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world

Chapter 116 Harry Potter and the Queen

On the vast chessboard, Harry's hoarse roar echoed. In order for him to advance, the White Queen sacrificed herself, exchanging her for the enemy's Black Queen.

Hermione was exposed to the enemy's encirclement.

Ron... Ron...

The earth trembled, and tears filled his emerald eyes, reflecting the suddenly darkening sky, the howling wind, and the flying sand and stones.

The lightning, like a silver snake, danced on the horizon.

The reflection shows Quirrell's increasingly terrified expression!
strength……

A violent power surged through Harry's body, and he felt his vision rise, so high that Quirrell looked like an... ant!
Vaughn looked up at the "world" created by alchemy.

The magical light that appeared in his eyes was dazzling and mysterious, like a cool morning mist floating before my eyes, reflecting the bright, pale blue sky through the gaps in the forest, with a hint of gold.

The brightness of magical light is never intense; rather, it is like a stream of water, coming gently and flowing away, yet penetrating everywhere.

Just like this moment.

Below, Harry was undergoing an ascension, his entire body changing. Gray stone patterns, like some kind of spreading disease, climbed up from his feet and covered his whole body.

Boom, boom...

The chessboard, like molten cement, rushed towards Harry, making a sound like stones rubbing and colliding. In the blink of an eye, he was encased in a stone statue about 8 feet tall.

He was tall and elegant, dressed in elaborate yet angular clothing, wearing a crown and holding a 6-foot-long stone sword.

queen!

Her transformation and birth seemed to resonate with the entire "world," causing the earth to tremble, dark clouds to roll in, and lightning to flash and thunder to roar.

These anomalies were not "special effects" set up by Dumbledore.

In Vaughn's eyes, he could clearly see that during Harry's transformation, the symbols throughout the world depicted in the painting were flashing violently.

The countless symbols in the field of vision resembled the lights of an amusement park, spinning endlessly and flickering erratically. The tremors of the earth, the dark clouds, and the lightning were all manifestations of their overloaded operation.

Even with Vaughn's rudimentary alchemy skills, he could sense the immense amount of magic and the profound power required for this "transformation."

Essentially, it is transforming a 12-year-old boy, who is basically powerless, into a magical creation with great destructive power!

"what--"

Harry screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice filled with unmistakable hatred and rage. The towering Queen statue, now transformed, bent slightly under his control and then sprang out with a bang!

The white squares of the chessboard cracked and shattered beneath his feet, and in the instant a white shockwave spread out, the queen's statue blurred for a moment—

Then it becomes clear.

It had already covered several feet and leaped behind the Black King. Only then did a loud bang erupt behind him, leaving a trail of cracks and white shockwaves.

At the same time, the Black King's body shattered, breaking in two at the waist.

Large chunks and fine stone chips, mixed with air currents and dust, scattered outwards, signifying the end of this unfinished game.

But everyone knows that things are far from over!
The instant the game ended, Quirrell realized that the mysterious force that had bound him from moving freely on the chessboard had vanished.

He saw the Queen, whom Harry had transformed into, turn around about twenty feet away, and he saw the greatsword raised again.

The transformation is not over yet!

The chessboard can no longer restrict movement!

So, Harry, consumed by anger and hatred, who will the Queen he controls next "eat up"?

Even a fool could figure that out!

The electric shock punishment in the world of the painting is very painful. In order not to disturb the master, he not only dares not use the master's remaining strength to resist, but also has to expend magic power to "protect" the master from being disturbed.

But no matter how painful the electric shock, it can never be more important than life.

Therefore, Quirrell drew his wand almost instantly, waved it, and chanted the spell—

"There are many obstacles!"

Boom!
As the incantation was uttered, a thick, viscous force field formed in front of him, causing violent ripples, followed by shrieks and roars as the air was torn apart.

The queen's afterimage vanished from the spot, her towering figure already crashing into the force field of the barrier spell.

"Damn it!" Cold sweat broke out on Quirrell's forehead. The force of the violent impact made him dizzy.

He dared not pause for a moment and waved his wand again.

"Split into pieces!"

"Thunderbolt explosion!"

The magical light exploded continuously on the queen's body, and the terrifying power felt like high-speed cannonballs hitting her. The queen staggered back two steps.

But that’s all!
Seeing that his magic couldn't even create a small crater on the Queen, Quirrell's expression tightened, and he swung his wand even harder, unleashing two consecutive "Thunder Explosions" that engulfed the Queen in flames.

Immediately afterward, he turned around quickly, and a silent red light of the "Disarming Charm" rushed towards Hermione—or more accurately, the flying broom that Hermione had been holding!
No matter how cowardly he may have appeared in the past, it was just an act. The real Quirrell is a mature wizard, an excellent one, who dares to choose Ravenclaw as his training ground in the Balkans.

No matter how humble a dog may appear in front of its owner, it may still be a German Shepherd, a Caucasian Shepherd, a wolfhound, etc., fierce, cunning, and decisive when facing the outside world!
Just like Quirrell right now!
When he realized that his magic was no match for Harry, he almost immediately changed his target, or rather, he had already made a plan in his mind from the moment he met Harry and Hermione.

That wasn't because she foresaw the current situation, but because Hermione had a flying broom in her hand!
Regardless of their school of thought, in the modern spell system, the most important thing for wizards is always mobility. Given the current restrictions on free spell casting, flying brooms are undoubtedly the best choice for maintaining mobility.

However, to Quirrell's surprise, the nerdy Hermione Granger, whom he had heard of before, was not the bookworm type.

The red light of the "Disarming Charm" had just shot out from the tip of his staff when Hermione had already chanted the incantation:

"Armor protection!"

Although in Quirrell's view, the girl's Ironclad Spell was very naive, the thin film of light as fragile as a soap bubble.

But she ultimately succeeded in making a defensive play.

She was always on guard against him!
The red light arrived swiftly, and with a pop, Hermione's armor spell shattered. Quirrell followed closely behind, casting another disarming spell that struck her.

The powerful magic sent her flying, and her wand and the flying broom she was holding also spun and bounced into the air under the influence of the magic.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye.

On the other side, Harry, who had just suffered a setback, roared as he controlled the Queen to smash the rolling cloud of explosions in front of him, creating a huge crater in the ground beneath his feet.

woo-

The air emitted a sound like a train whistle, the cry of a massive object tearing through the air at high speed!

Quirrell didn't dare to cause any trouble. Ignoring Hermione and her wand, he quickly flicked his wand, pulled the flying broom in front of him, and jumped onto it without wasting a second.

The next instant, the ground where he had been standing exploded!
The spherical shockwave resembled a firecracker exploding underwater, creating a cavity. The white gas wave visibly expanded, carrying debris and the image of the "Queen" reappearing, her giant sword slashing the ground!
With a curse, Quirrell ignored the pain in his legs and buttocks from the splinters, gripped his broom tightly, and fled into the depths of the forest!

Quirrell never imagined that one day he would be hunted down by children under 12 years old.

Harry never imagined that one day he would be chasing after an adult wizard while carrying a sword.

In fact, he had already lost his mind by this time. Pain and regret filled every corner of his brain. The cool feeling brought by the brain blockade became insignificant in the face of his burning anger.

"The Chessboard Town endgame is over. Settlement will now begin..."

The narrator's voice rang in his ears, but he didn't listen. Driven by anger, he instinctively used the powerful strength he had suddenly gained to chase after the figure fleeing towards the forest.

His strength was so great that if he picked up a stone and threw it, it would produce a deafening roar.

The stones left trails and whistles, like cannonballs.

Unfortunately, its aim was far off. It roared as it flew about 10 feet to the right of Quirrell, then flew aimlessly over the forest for a while before crashing!
In the distance, the groans and loud crashes of falling trees could be heard.

Harry could see Quirrell, who was in mid-air, turn his head back as if to mock him, but at that moment, as Harry stared angrily, a bolt of lightning struck down from the sky.

Click!

The moment the thunderous explosion blasted into their ears, lightning engulfed Quirrell, and his small figure, billowing smoke, plummeted downwards.

"That's a rule-breaking electric shock punishment!"

Harry's dazed mind suddenly cleared up, but instead of feeling excited, he abruptly turned back to look at Chessboard Town.

Then another bolt of lightning struck from the sky, heading towards Qipan Town.

It's Hermione!
Sure enough, his mind cleared, and he heard the narrator's voice: "...Quirino Quirinas, Hermione Granger, punishment complete!"

"Hermione..."

Harry hesitated, glancing at the direction Quirrell had fallen, then at Checkerboard Town where a wisp of smoke was rising, and gradually stopped his pursuit.

After a moment, he clenched his fist.

Ron... Ron is gone. He simply couldn't bear to watch another comrade's fate remain unknown...

"hateful!"

……

"hateful!"

Vaughn stared at Dumbledore, and although he didn't say anything, his eyes clearly conveyed a similar meaning.

Old Deng's hand, stroking his white beard, froze: "Uh... would you believe me if I said I didn't expect Granger to break the rules?"

"Heh... In that situation, what else could she do but fight back and wait to die? You should be glad Quirrell only used a disarming spell; if it had been dark magic..."

“Don’t laugh like that. I don’t know why, but I always feel like you’re insulting me.” Dumbledore sighed, but still explained, “There can’t be any dark magic. I’ve made very detailed arrangements for this, completely based on Harry, Weasley, and Granger’s personalities and strengths.”

"The only solution to the endgame that I asked Minerva to plan is to push Harry to become a god. Ron's 'sacrifice' was also expected, including Harry's emotional breakdown, which was also part of the plan."

"Faced with Harry, who gained immense power after his Ascension but also lost his mind, Quirinas was simply incapable of casting Dark Magic. My dear, you've studied the corruption of Dark Magic, so you should be able to tell that Quirinas's Dark Magic skills are very poor. In a situation where the opportunity is fleeting, even if he could cast Dark Magic, its power would probably only be enough to tickle him."

"As for the punishment, you know that the first punishment is not serious, just a little bit of pain, as a warning."

Vaughn remained noncommittal: "I hope this is the last time, Albus. Now that Harry has 'ascended' and has the ability to fight Quirrell, that rule against the use of magic can be lifted, right?"

He had some understanding of the contract, so he didn't make a demand that "the punishment should only be directed at Quirrell".

The basic framework of the rules originates from contracts, and the magic of those contracts can disregard the will of others and force everyone to abide by the rules because it treats everyone equally.

Any wizard who enters the gate agrees to the contract by default, unless they are its creator or possess its key.

Dumbledore nodded repeatedly: "Of course, my dear. In my original plan, the next level would remove the rule restrictions. To be honest, there's no way to keep them in place..."

He looked at the wisps of black smoke rising from the distant forest: "Sigh, if this continues, Tom might not be able to sit still!"

Quirrell was never a threat; if it weren't for the Socket Man sticking to the back of his head, he wouldn't even be worthy of being the savior's opponent.

Even Dumbledore's contracts and rules can only restrict Quirrell and the trio; they would probably be useless against Socket Man.

Even though the Socket Hero is just a remnant soul, his magic and knowledge are still at the level of the former Dark Lord.

Having received Dumbledore's promise, Vaughn fell silent, looking down at Harry—he had given up chasing Quirrell and was preparing to return to Chessboard Town to rescue Hermione.

"What a good boy, isn't Vaughn?"

Dumbledore started wiping away tears again.

This time, however, Vaughn did not ignore him, but nodded.

However, he was more interested in Harry's current state than Harry's character: "What kind of magic is keeping Harry transformed? It's somewhat like Transfiguration, but not quite."

“An ancient form of magic, or rather, an ancient form of transmutation, my dear.”

Dumbledore's answer touched on Vaughn's blind spot. He didn't know much about ancient magic. As an obsolete magic system, ancient magic did have its advantages, but its disadvantages outweighed its advantages.

For example, stringent conditions for its application.

To give a rather brutal example, one of the important reasons why wizards were persecuted by the witch hunts driven by Muggles during the thousand years from the Middle Ages to the full development of the modern spell system was that the mainstream ancient magic system at that time was too slow to activate and difficult to quickly form combat power.

In the documents Vaughn saw, many wizards were captured by Muggles before the magical rituals were even prepared. Not only did they fail to cast the spells, but the traces of the rituals became evidence confirming their wizarding status...

Of course, if he has the time, Vaughn will also learn and master it, and even study it in depth.

After all, it's a version from the previous generation of the modern spell system, closer to the original form of magic, and therefore still has considerable research value. Especially since this ancient magic is a form of polymorph!

Seemingly sensing Vaughn's interest, Dumbledore smiled and said, "This magic is actually not uncommon in modern times. Some countries still use it, like Africa, where Egypt is located. If you are interested, perhaps we can take the opportunity to do an academic visit during the summer vacation!"

As he spoke, he winked and said, "As the continent with the most severe modern divisions, many werewolves choose to hide in East and South Africa. As far as I know, Vargadu even retains the tradition of running werewolf training classes!"

Vargadu's reputation in the global magical world is not very prominent, much like its home continent of Africa, where people associate it with poverty, backwardness, and chaos.

And that is indeed the case...

To most wizards, the name Vagado is like a lost realm from a fairy tale—to put it nicely, it's ancient and mysterious; to put it bluntly, it's backward and barbaric.

At least that was Vaughn's first impression when he heard Dumbledore mention it.

Upon hearing that Old Deng was going to take him on an academic visit, he thought for a moment and asked, "Where is Waggadu?"

"Moon Mountain in Uganda".

“Uganda…” Vaughn began to recall his past and present lives, and his impressions of this East African country.

Unfortunately, his knowledge of Uganda is limited to that of Amin, the cannibalistic ruler who is still alive.

Upon careful recollection, all that seems to come to mind is war and turmoil.

Seemingly understanding his thoughts, he looked intently at Dumbledore below, stroked his beard and smiled: "The situation in the African wizarding world is much better than in Muggle society. Muggles may be forced into a state of division for a long time for various reasons, but Muggle governments cannot interfere with wizards."

“Wizards still wield considerable influence in Africa, where the Secret Law is relatively relaxed, and many Muggle tribes maintain close ties with wizards.”

"It's undeniable that they are quite closed off, only beginning to accept wands and the modern spell system a century ago, but that doesn't mean they're backward. I guarantee you'll be interested in their hand gestures and dance magic, which are inherited from ancient Egypt and then modernized. They're close to the spell system while retaining some characteristics of ancient magic, which is very interesting."

As he listened, Vaughn's interest was gradually piqued.

The literature he had previously encountered did not contain much description of the African magical world and Vagado; he only knew that they rarely used wands and spells, but instead used gestures and dances as mediums for casting spells.

Looking back now, it does resemble ancient magical rituals.

Vaughn nodded: "Then let's do an academic visit during the summer vacation. How's the werewolf situation there?"

“It’s rampant, my dear.” Dumbledore’s smile faded, and he sighed, “As I said before, the chaotic situation of the Muggle regimes in Africa means that dark wizards are completely unrestrained there. Without a stable social order, the spread of wolf disease is naturally unstoppable.”

"If it weren't for the unique shapeshifting abilities of the Vargadu wizards, the magical world over there would probably have been taken over by werewolves and vampires long ago—there's no need for attacks; Muggles who can't survive don't care about life or suffering at all, they might even actively seek to be infected!"

"In fact, even if we don't mention it, Vagad will probably invite you to visit by the end of this year at the latest. Babajid Akinbad submitted an application to the International Wizarding Federation to observe the Werewolf Affairs Committee a few days ago. He will become one of the members of the Werewolf Affairs Committee in the next few years."

Vaughn murmured the strange yet somewhat familiar name to himself and asked, "Who is he?"

"Babajid Akinbad?"

Upon receiving Vaughn's confirmation, Dumbledore replied with a smile, "Headmaster Vagado, the representative of African wizards, is a leader of the emerging forces in the International Confederation of Wizards in recent years. If nothing unexpected happens, he will likely succeed me as the new president when I leave office or die."

Oh, yet another power-hungry animal!
Vaughn immediately lost interest; rather than trying to understand a future president, he'd rather focus his energy on observing Harry's changes.

After storing this brief conversation in his memory archive, Vaughn stopped talking and turned his attention back down. He "saw" that the crisscrossing symbols in the entire space, after operating at overload for a period of time, were beginning to gradually decay.

"Is the upgrade about to end?" Vaughn asked, guessing.

Dumbledore nodded: "That's normal. After all, it's an external force. Harry's own magic has been resisting it, but it's enough to fight Quirinus."

Hopefully!

……

Hermione didn't know what a real electric shock felt like. In all her life, she had only seen one case of electric shock, which was when the twins secretly conducted an experiment and sent Ron to the school hospital.

Ron was bedridden for two whole days that time, being forced to drink countless potions by Madam Pomfrey.

The electric shocks in the world of the painting are definitely not that kind of thing. They might be some kind of magic, and the main target of the damage is not the body, but... magic power?
After convulsing a few times, Hermione got up from the ground, her hands trembling as she felt the condition inside her body.

Something's wrong. The magic that usually flows smoothly seems to be interfered with by something, and it's starting to become sluggish and difficult.

But that was it. The first electric shock punishment seemed to be just a warning, and Hermione could feel that her condition was improving.

This discovery further convinced her that the world in the painting was likely the testing ground carefully prepared by Dumbledore and Vaughn.

Trials Harry and Quirrell!
What exactly are they trying to do?

The girl sat there blankly, feeling lost.

Just then, the trees in the distance swayed and parted, and Hermione turned to see a giant gray queen statue emerge from the woods.

She wasn't nervous because she recognized him; it was Harry who had become the Queen.

Not long ago, she witnessed the other party unleashing terrifying destructive power.

Sure enough, upon seeing her, the "Queen" strode over: "Hermione, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Harry..."

Hearing that familiar question, Hermione felt a warmth in her heart. She knew that Harry must have returned specifically because he was worried about her.

In the year since they met, Harry has certainly had many flaws, and he and Ron often give her headaches.

However, he still has many good qualities, such as his seriousness and sincerity in friendship.

He would abandon the hunt for Quirrell because he was worried about her, and because of Ron... Ron... uh...

Thinking of Ron, Hermione's expression stiffened, and she couldn't help but look back at the chessboard that had swallowed Ron.

Seemingly noticing her movement, the "Queen," who was striding towards them, suddenly stopped, like a silent stone, devoid of any sound.

He was very sad...

As this thought crossed her mind, Hermione saw the Queen, who was no longer moving, covered in large swaths of stone dust.

The upgrade is about to be lifted!

Stone chips, like sandstorms whipped up by a gale, peeled off the queen's statue and drifted into the void behind it, causing the statue's size to shrink rapidly.

Before long, it had completely disappeared, leaving only a thin little boy kneeling on the edge of the chessboard, his eyes blurry with tears, sobbing and crying.

"Hermione...Ron, Ron is dead..."

…………

"Ah!"

When Ron woke up, before he could even figure out where he was, he sneezed loudly.

"Damn it, who's cursing me?"

Mumbled something groggily, then Ron sat up, rubbed his eyes, looked ahead, and then raised his head higher and higher, gradually opening his mouth wide.

who am I?
where am I?
Wasn't I helping Harry play chess? Where's Chessboard Town? Where are Harry and Hermione?

What is this thing in front of me?
Countless thoughts assaulted Ron's mind, almost paralyzing his body and brain. Only his light blue eyes remained functional, reflecting a terrifying figure that gradually revealed its true form as he slowly raised his head.

Fire dragon!

A fully grown fire dragon!
It sat crouching on its thick hind legs, with forepaws and spiky membranous wings, standing before Ron like a mountain wall covered with wrinkles and ravines.

Ron had to strain to look up to see the head above the membrane wing, covered in rough scales, menacing spikes, a long nose, and sharp teeth.

It also has a dark ridge that runs along the head and down to the back.

It looks aggressive, as if every part of its body is etched with violence and cruelty!
This is a Norwegian Spinosaurus!

Ron, who had specifically researched how to help Hagrid feed Norber, recalled the breed of Norber and paused for a moment before finally realizing what was happening. He let out a scream and tried to run away.

Then he heard a deafening roar.

The sound waves vibrated the air, creating pressure that squeezed Ron's eardrums, causing him to lose his hearing briefly. His ears rang, and he lost his balance. Before he could run two steps, he collapsed to the ground.

Immediately afterward, Ron felt something grab him, and when he looked down, he almost fainted—it was a claw covered in rough scales, each one looking thicker than him, gripping him like an adult grabbing a mouse!

Ron was terrified, tears streaming down his face, and struggled desperately.

But the beast that seized him was cruel and merciless, toying with him like a mouse, dragging him back in front of it, placing him down, and then bending one of its claws.

Boom!
Flick it on his forehead!

The seemingly gentle movement felt like a punch to Ron; his mind went blank, and he collapsed to the ground with a buzzing in his ears.

It took him a while to recover. He had just sat up, but before he could do anything...

The enormous claw, still attached to its membranous wings, grabbed him again, set him still, bent its claw, and flicked his head...

Boom!
Ron: "@_@..."

After that, the process basically repeated itself. Ron, who felt like his brain was being shaken to its core after being hit on the head several times, finally regained consciousness once more, and wisely lay down on the ground, raised his hands, and shouted:
"Stop fighting! I surrender!"

pat.

A huge, sharp claw landed in front of him, the dust it kicked up made him cough, but it didn't grab him again.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief, feeling weak all over, filled with the fear of surviving a disaster, and a little bit of relief—thankfully, he could still communicate!
The enormous claw that was pinned in front of him slowly retracted, and then a deep, resonant breathing sound gradually approached his head.

Ron quietly raised his head.

Above him, a pair of vertical pupils stared unblinkingly at him.

Whether it was a trick of the eye or not, Ron seemed to see human-like emotions in those eyes, like... mockery?
Knowing that dragons' intelligence was almost comparable to that of humans, Ron immediately racked his brains, trying to recall if he had ever seen one before.

Having witnessed the fire dragon and been hit on the head several times, Ron realized that he was probably still inside the mechanism guarding the Philosopher's Stone.

He hadn't forgotten that back in Fairy Tale Town, he and Quirrell had been punished by the fire dragon for failing a mission.

"Could it be that fire dragon?"

Thinking it over, Ron forced a smile and racked his brains for flattering words to get closer to the giant beast in front of him.

Just then, he heard the narration begin.

"Your betrayal of your companions has attracted the attention of the great and ruthless dragon Norbeta. She both admires your despicable behavior and despises your shamelessness. Now, Ron Weasley, your fate is in the hands of Lady Norbeta. You need to please her to get back into the game!"

"Re-entering the game? Does that mean I was already eliminated in Chessboard Town? As long as I appease this fire dragon, I can go back?"

While Ron was trying to analyze the narration, he glanced up again furtively.

Above him, those terrifying vertical pupils still stared at him mockingly, seemingly with a hint of expectation.

Ron didn't think too deeply about it, still lost in his own thoughts. Of course he wanted to go back; Harry and Hermione needed his help, they needed him to fight Quirrell with them!
So it seems he has to please the dragon!

"The narrator says 'she,' is that a female dinosaur? Damn it, female Norwegian Ridgebacks are far more ferocious than males. If Norber had stayed behind... wait..."

Ron's freckles suddenly turned white and transparent.

He stiffly raised his head, looking at the dragon's bulging eyes, its long nose, and its wrinkled membranes above...

Scenes I had almost forgotten suddenly resurfaced before my eyes—

“...It’s a mother dragon, Hagrid…”

"How about giving it a new name, Norbeta?"

Ron's lips trembled, and the ingratiating smile on his face became more like a grimace under the sudden shock of some truth.

He forced out a groan, choked with sobs: "Noberta?"

"Roar—caw caw caw!"

Norbert let out a grating cry that was hard to tell if it was a roar or a laugh. She raised her long neck, which was so thin it was practically skin and bones, yet had lines that were as hard as if it were sculpted, and spewed flames into the air.

He looked extremely happy.

But those vertical pupils became increasingly narrow, like a venomous snake that had detected its prey and was filled with the desire to attack!

She extended a membranous wing, her claws gripped Ron again, positioned him, and repeated the previous steps, extending her claws—

Boom!
(End of this chapter)