Golem Tournament – First Match
"Welcome, everyone, to our very first Mini-Golem Battle Tournament! I hope you all enjoy this wonderful chain of events we've prepared to entertain, excite… and witness a bit of destruction—obviously, in a healthy way!" announced a man with a magically enhanced microphone, sitting in one corner of the enormous floating stands.
All around him, thousands of people filled the magically suspended seats above a vast crystal-clear lake. The platforms rocked gently in the wind, their reflections shimmering across the water like colorful lights marking the start of the tournament. At the center of the lake stood the square battlefield, outlined by a ring of glowing runes that lit up one by one with crackling sounds of magic.
On the far side of the lake, along the shore, rose a magnificent white castle built in a sleek, modern style. It had originally been constructed as a vacation resort for when no competitions were held and now served as both hotel and recreational complex. On its terraces, witches and wizards who weren't interested in the tournament relaxed under the sun, bathed in magically warmed pools, or quietly fished. A few small fishing boats had drifted closer to watch the spectacle while their owners still held onto their rods with leisure.
The venue was breathtaking—a blend of Muggle engineering and magical elegance. Some conservative wizards frowned upon the fusion, but no one could deny the comfort, organization, and panoramic beauty of the complex. Every detail, from the enchanted railings to the floating display screens, was designed for a perfect viewing experience.
Today marked the first official competition since the battle golems had hit the market two years ago. The excitement over owning them had only grown—especially among younger witches and wizards. Though there were already plenty of magical games and sports, the wizarding world had long needed something that combined strategy, entertainment, and skill in a fresh way. From that need were born the new amusement centers, magical theme parks, and resorts funded by the Potter–Granger–Greengrass–Black–Malfoy Family Alliance, with the Longbottoms recently joining their ranks.
With the combined fortunes of these six houses, the neutral faction of the wizarding world had reached unprecedented economic and social influence. Their power tilted the balance of politics itself—though fortunately for everyone, they had chosen to remain impartial in the conflicts between the other two sides. If they ever decided to intervene, chaos would surely follow.
Thanks to that neutrality, many families who had once been forced to align with the dark or the light factions could now live in peace, devoting themselves to trade, research, or entertainment. Even some of the old dark families, tired of the curses and stigmas of their bloodlines, had turned away from that legacy to join the balance of neutrality.
In theory, the white faction should have celebrated this as a victory—but in truth, it was not. They had lost two of their greatest economic pillars: the Blacks and the Longbottoms.
And all of it had happened in barely two years.
As these new "gold mines" of entertainment filled vaults with galleons, the magical world itself was transforming. There had been constant attacks and sabotage attempts, but the heads of each family had defended their projects fiercely, using protective enchantments and tight security. At last, their work had paid off: the new centers were ready, just in time to close the school year with the first great golem tournament.
Harry and his friends sat among the crowd, buzzing with excitement. They had boxes of sweets, fizzy drinks, and the restless anticipation of true fans. This tournament was special for them—after all, many of the creations battling below were based on their own designs.
"I thought at least one of you would join the tournament," said Hermione, glancing at Draco, Daphne, and Harry. "You three are the best golem controllers… and the ones who developed the upgrade systems. You'd have had an advantage."
Though Hermione had helped design several of the golems, she wasn't much of a fighter. She tended to overthink every move, which usually made her lose focus mid-battle.
"Nah, we only fight for fun," said Harry casually. "If we won, it'd feel like cheating."
"It'd be like stealing our own prize money," added Daphne with a smirk, nodding in agreement.
"And sometimes it's more fun to watch than to fight," said Draco, crossing his legs elegantly.
Hermione's eyes drifted down to the small ornate boxes resting beside them—each holding their personal golems. She knew perfectly well they were lying.
Before she could say anything, Luna spoke up without taking her eyes off her bucket of popcorn.
"Aunt Wanda didn't let them compete," she said serenely, "because thanks to Sir Cadogan breaking three vases at Beauxbatons, they had to pay twenty thousand galleons in repairs. She grounded them the moment they tried to sign up."
Astoria, sitting beside her, nodded while chewing a caramel.
"I see… that makes sense," said Hermione, sighing. She herself had been punished recently—her mother had taken away all her books for a month.
"And now," shouted the announcer, his magically amplified voice echoing over the lake, "let's give a warm welcome to our first two competitors!"
Applause and cheers filled the air as two young wizards crossed the bridge to the central ring. Each carried a wooden chest carved with glowing runes, which they set carefully on the ground.
The first opened his box and revealed a thirty-centimeter-tall golem, its metallic frame gleaming, wielding a spear nearly twice its size. As he uttered the connection spell, a spark raced across the runes on its chest, and the small construct came to life. It leapt forward, spinning its spear in fluid arcs before striking a disciplined combat pose.
The crowd erupted in excitement.
The golem began to twirl its weapon with precision, performing a dazzling display of thrusts that left blue trails of light in the air. Above the arena, floating magic screens magnified the image, showing every detail with such clarity it looked like a battle between giants.
Only those in the closest seats could see the tiny figures directly, but thanks to the projections, everyone felt as though they were standing right beside the action.
The second competitor opened his chest next, unveiling a very different creation—slimmer, with flexible joints and refined limbs. It carried a bow and a quiver of miniature arrows strapped to its back.
"Ohhh…" murmured Harry, leaning forward with genuine interest.
They themselves had developed archer-type golems for sale, but they were notoriously difficult to use. After all, it wasn't the same as firing a bow yourself; controlling one through a magical link demanded precision, awareness, and perfect coordination.
They themselves had designed archer models, but they were notoriously difficult to use. Controlling a golem armed with a bow required a completely different kind of focus—it wasn't like casting a spell or firing a real bow. It demanded shared vision, mental coordination, and mastery over the flight of the arrows—something the golems didn't yet possess. For now, it all had to be done from the controller's perspective.
That was why archer golems were rather unpopular. Although, of course, there was always the possibility of creating personalized modifications—changing the combat style and weapon type according to the creator's preferences.
For example, there were heavy golems, designed to wield massive weapons such as maces, axes, or spears. Their weight and strength made them slow, but in the hands of a skilled controller, that disadvantage could be turned into a defensive asset.
On the other hand, light golems were the complete opposite—fast, flexible, specializing in quick movements and short blades or daggers, perfect for assassin-style combat.
Archers, meanwhile, usually preferred the medium model, a balance between stability and speed. It was easier to control and allowed for better aim.
However, this competitor had chosen to use a light golem with a bow—a rare and difficult combination to handle. It increased speed, yes, but also made aiming, balancing, and shooting while moving far more complicated.
His opponent, in contrast, controlled a heavy-type spear golem. Its style focused on defense and endurance. It was slower, but its durability could easily decide the match if it managed to outlast the initial attacks.
"This is going to be an interesting battle," announced the commentator energetically as the screens displayed both models. "You all know the rules—it's a destruction match! The first golem that can no longer move… loses! The winner advances to the next round. The loser, of course, gets to take home what's left of their golem as a keepsake. And the victor will receive a free reconstruction if their creation is damaged for the next round!"
The crowd roared with cheers and applause.
Even though it was a friendly tournament, the atmosphere carried the tension and excitement of a true duel to the death—just without the death part.
"Alright then, everyone with me!" shouted the commentator, raising his hand. Immediately, the noise died down; the entire crowd joined in the countdown.
"Three!" they shouted in unison.
"Two!"
"One!"
"Let the battle begin!"
Both golems moved at the same time, their metallic footsteps echoing across the arena. Behind them, the controllers—wands raised—maintained the magical connection through a faint, translucent thread of energy that vibrated gently between them and their creations. Their faces were serious, focused, reflecting the determination of those who had trained tirelessly for this very moment.
The archer acted first.
With a fluid motion, it drew an arrow from its quiver, hopped backward three times, and pulled the string taut. At that same moment, the spear golem charged forward, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
The arrow flew with a sharp whistle, aimed straight for the enemy's head. But the lancer spun his spear skillfully, deflecting the projectile without breaking stride.
The archer wasted no time—another arrow, then another, and another still. It fired in rapid succession, one after another, each with surgical precision. The arrows traced glowing lines of light through the air, reflected like streaks across the lake's surface.
Yet the lancer continued blocking them all with perfect rhythm, his spear spinning like a defensive whirlwind.
By the time the audience realized how close they had drawn, the heavy golem was only a few steps away. It stopped abruptly, aimed its spear at the archer's chest, and thrust forward in a brutal strike.
The archer dove backward, falling flat on its back.
A strange maneuver… but intentional.
While midair, with the string already drawn, the golem released a point-blank shot.
The arrow pierced the lancer's shoulder—right through the joint where the armor was weakest.
The crowd gasped in unison.
The hit wasn't fatal, but it was effective: the lancer's arm dropped sluggishly, the joint mechanism clearly damaged.
Even so, the heavy golem did not stop. With its uninjured hand, it raised the spear high above its head, ready to strike down.
But the archer pushed itself up with both hands and kicked—both feet slamming into the lancer's chest, forcing the metallic body to stagger backward. It then flipped up, landing neatly and hopping several steps away to gain distance.
Both golems froze, facing each other, unmoving for a brief moment—as if measuring the distance between them. In truth, it was their controllers locking eyes from behind, both panting from the strain of their concentration.
The spear golem ripped the arrow from its shoulder and flung it aside with a jerky motion. Its arm now moved slower, the metal creaking under the strain.
"Wooow! And this is only the first round!" shouted the commentator, clearly thrilled. "I'm really glad I took this job!"
The audience burst into laughter and cheers. Many had come simply looking for some fun—a distraction from their everyday magical lives—but what they were witnessing exceeded all expectations.
A battle between tiny figures of metal… that felt like a clash between real warriors.
"Hey, isn't that Professor Flitwick?" said Daphne, pointing toward one of the stands.
Everyone turned to look.
There he was—the tiny professor, standing atop his seat, cheering wildly and waving his arms as if he were the one controlling the match.
"It's definitely him," murmured Hermione, both amused and slightly worried, seeing her Head of House so fired up he looked seconds away from fainting from excitement.
Meanwhile, down in the ring, the golems clashed again.
The lancer attacked with a wide horizontal sweep, but the archer spun on one foot, dodging gracefully and countering with a shot aimed straight for the head.
The projectile grazed the enemy's helmet, leaving a glowing mark before embedding itself in the ground.
"Ohhh, that was close!" cried the commentator.
But that had been the archer's last arrow.
"It looks like the ammunition has run out," the commentator announced in a dramatic tone. "Now… what will our competitor do?"
The crowd held its breath.
The lancer's controller smiled confidently. The initial scare had passed, and now his opponent was practically defenseless.
He commanded his golem forward in a full-on assault.
The thrusts came one after another—fast, powerful, relentless. The archer retreated, dodging by mere inches, rolling, leaping, spinning. Its movements were flawless, almost human. But finally, one strike hit its mark, the spear piercing through the archer's leg.
The golem dropped to one knee, rolled across the ground, and crawled a few inches.
The audience gasped, tension rising like a wave through the stands.
The lancer raised his weapon high, ready to deliver the finishing blow. His controller was already smiling, certain of victory.
But at that moment, the archer moved its hand.
There, on the ground—just within reach—lay a fallen arrow from earlier. It grabbed it, not hesitating for an instant, fitted it onto the bow, and drew the string tight.
The lancer's controller barely had time to widen his eyes.
Thung!
The arrow struck the golem square in the neck, making the heavy construct stagger backward.
The hit didn't destroy it, but the damage was clear—a deep crack ran down its metallic throat.
It tried to lift the spear once more, but the archer was already in motion, leaping on its single good leg.
Using the momentum, it gripped the bow with both hands like a blade and brought it down in a powerful upward strike, smashing directly against the arrow lodged in the lancer's neck.
The impact was brutal.
The projectile tore clean through the metal joint.
The spear golem collapsed to the floor with a dull, echoing crash—completely still.
"He's down!" shouted the commentator, raising both arms high.
"Woooooo!!" roared the crowd, leaping to their feet in an explosion of cheers, laughter, and applause.
The first battle had ended… and it had been spectacular.
Even Professor Flitwick was red with excitement, waving his arms so wildly it looked like all the blood in his body had rushed to his head.
Without a doubt, if anyone had doubted the success of this tournament before… they didn't anymore.