Just three days after the holidays began, Dana returned to school—much to the surprise of his two friends, Harry and Ron. The two had just left the Great Hall after breakfast when they spotted Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Dana near the castle. Strangely, Dana was floating in midair.
"Could he be a ghost?" Ron whispered, staring.
But Dana's complexion looked normal.
"Hey, Harry!" Dana greeted, prompting Harry's stunned reply: "Hey, Dana!"
Gently guided by Dumbledore's magic, Dana glided slowly, as if unfamiliar with what it felt like to move in the air in human form.
Harry and Ron exchanged baffled glances. Ron leaned in and whispered to Harry, "Dana must have done something—why else would Dumbledore be pulling him like that?"
Harry shook his head. "Let's go see!"
They followed at a brisk pace, emerging onto the lawn beside the Quidditch pitch where Dumbledore finally released Dana from his magical hold.
"Very well, Dana. You may unleash your magic," Dumbledore said, his voice calm.
Dana hesitated. The memory of Jiang Qingquan's intense command—"Fire at me!"—flashed through his mind. Dumbledore's presence radiated a similar aura of resolve, as though he were a martyr. Dana realized with sudden awe that he had the chance to duel the most powerful wizard in the world.
Gathering his courage, Dana pointed his ebony wand—twelve and eight inches long—and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" A brilliant beam of light shot out like a cannonball.
Dumbledore tapped his Elder Wand. Dana's spell ricocheted into the sky. "Do you know the Shield Charm, child?"
"Yes," Dana replied quickly. "Protego!" A translucent blue shield sprang up before him.
At once, a scarlet spell from Dumbledore slammed into the shield and shattered it in a single strike.
Dumbledore stood unruffled, barely shifting his stance. Dana blinked and realized how far he had to go: he was a mere beginner facing an unstoppable master.
Dana floated, unable to use his legs freely, so he cast spell after spell at full power, flagging no control over nuance. Sand and stones erupted around him—his magic would have razed a house had he used it there.
From their vantage point, Harry and Ron were awestruck.
"That's Dana, right?" Ron gasped, rubbing his eyes. "And he's dueling Dumbledore? How is that humanly possible?"
Harry shook his head, equally flummoxed. He felt a surge of curiosity at the word "Azkaban"—did that prison have something to do with Dana's newfound power?
Dana and Dumbledore continued their duel. Dana was gaining rhythm: his attacks more coordinated, his shields more reliable. Even casual wand twirls sent bolt after bolt of magic flying—an impressive feat without demanding full spells.
Dumbledore gradually ramped up his defense. Dana's shields came quicker, his attacks flowed more naturally—so much so that some of the Ministry's Aurors might not match him at that stage.
Dumbledore lowered his wand, acknowledging Dana's remarkable talent. He looked at McGonagall and nodded. This boy was too gifted to lose. Dumbledore quietly blamed the Avery family—if not for Azkaban, this boy could have stood with him in protecting Harry.
"Pause," Dumbledore finally commanded, calmly deflecting a stunning spell.
Taking a step back, he asked, "Dana, how do you feel?"
"I still find it hard to control," Dana replied, "but much better already."
Dumbledore nodded and turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, continue training him while I attend to some other matters."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow and said, "Of course, Albus."
Dumbledore winked at Dana and vanished with a wisp of Apparition—again, as Headmaster, he is the only one permitted to apparate within Hogwarts grounds.
McGonagall raised her wand. "Now it's my turn."
Unlike Dumbledore, whose overwhelming skills made him seem detached, McGonagall matched Dana's pace more directly. He was able to hold his own—deflecting two of her spells before they broke through, and at times stacking shields defensively for her benefit.
Dana absorbed it all like a sponge, learning quickly. Soon, both McGonagall and he began to cast Transfiguration spells. The atmosphere crackled with animagi—lions, tigers, Pixiu, Taotie—clashing in a chaotic, mythological dance of protection and attack.
Harry and Ron stared in shock. Ron sniffled and muttered, "Could a first-year really be this strong?"
Harry shook his head, speechless. Ron added, "Don't worry, you're still the backbone of our Quidditch team! Emrys can't fly without a broom!" Harry said nothing; he wasn't sure Ron's reassurance helped.
They dueled for more than an hour, until McGonagall called it for lunch. Neither seemed drained. Dana floated steadily, full of energy and confidence.
"So," McGonagall inquired, "how do you feel?"
"I feel I can control my magic better," Dana replied. "Maybe after one more afternoon, I'll have it down."
McGonagall smiled, pleased. Dana's talent was dazzling—his transfiguration skill surpassed 99% of British wizards.
Dana looked at his progress and estimated:1 McGonagall = 1.2 Snape = 12 Lucius MalfoyAnd he himself is about 60% of McGonagall's level—roughly 7 Lu.
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