The night was pitch-black, and even the flames on Ponyta's mane seemed to have dimmed.
Every strand of Houndoom's fur gleamed with a hellish glow, its brown eyes burning like molten embers.
Neither Harry nor the two Pokémon standing before Houndoom could react—they were still frozen in shock.
But Houndoom gave no one the chance. Having absorbed Ponyta's fire, it was now strengthened, and without hesitation it unleashed a Fire Fang.
Flames surged, forming enormous, searing jaws in front of its snout. The fiery fangs snapped shut in an instant—
—biting down hard on both Ponyta and Litleo.
The heat was so intense it could melt steel. Both Pokémon screamed in pain, thrashing helplessly in agony.
"Nimbus!" Ron shouted, eyes wide with panic. He immediately held up his Poké Ball. "Come back, Ninbus!"
Hermione, guilt-ridden, also recalled her Litleo. "It's my fault," she said, voice trembling. "I should've thought of it sooner—if those little ones have Flash Fire, then this big one might have it too!"
"But then… what happened to Pichu?"
"It used Roar—forced Pichu out and switched Litleo in," Hermione groaned, frustrated. "But who could've guessed that thing just happened to know Roar?"
Harry and the others had no idea what the move even did. They'd been attentive in class—but only just enough to pass.
Houndoom had lost its targets, but it certainly wasn't going to let them off the hook. After all, these kids had beaten up half its underlings—how could it keep its pride as a boss if it let them run?
It glared coldly at the group. Though barely 1.4 meters tall, it walked with the presence of something twice that size.
"I'll hold it off—run!" Oliver Wood stepped forward instinctively, shielding the three behind him. But even he knew deep down: he didn't stand a chance.
"No! I won't leave you!" Harry protested, eyes blazing with determination behind his round glasses.
Houndoom, of course, didn't care about friendship or brotherhood. Gathering all its strength, it opened its jaws wide—
—and unleashed Flamethrower.
The torrent of flame roared toward them like a giant fiery serpent, threatening to swallow them whole.
Wood tried to counter with a spell, but his magic couldn't compare to the power of that infernal blaze.
"Well, I guess this is it," Ron whimpered hopelessly.
"The good news," Hermione said tearfully, "is that we might not die ugly."
"And the bad news?" Ron croaked.
"The bad news is we might get burned to ash."
"Brilliant," Ron muttered, "I feel so much better now."
Harry, too, felt a bitter pang of irony. After finally escaping Privet Drive and arriving at this wondrous place… it was all about to end.
They shut their eyes in fear as the scorching heat drew closer—so hot it felt like their skin might blister.
"AAAAH—I'm gonna die—huh? Wait, what?"
After several seconds, Ron blinked. The searing pain never came.
He'd expected to be roasted alive—but instead, there was nothing. No agony. Not even the heat anymore.
The others opened their eyes too—
—and saw a familiar figure standing before them, wand raised, blocking the inferno entirely.
The blazing fire could not advance even an inch past him.
"Professor!" Hermione gasped, tears still glistening in her eyes. When she saw Charles standing there, relief flooded her face.
"You finally came, Professor! If you'd been any later, we might've—oh, I don't mean to complain! It's our fault for running off so far," Harry stammered, guilt written all over him.
He imagined Professor Gold must've rushed here non-stop—it was his fault for causing so much trouble.
"I was here a while ago," Charles said with a grin, glancing back. "Been watching from that rock over there."
The words hit them like a Confundo charm.
You were here this whole time? Watching us get mauled?!
Do you have any idea how terrified we were?!
You absolute troll!
The four glared at him, their faces a mix of relief and exasperation.
"Don't be mad. If I'd stepped in right away, how would I have seen your excellent teamwork?" Charles teased. "Because of that, Gryffindor earns twenty points."
Using house points to pacify them was a classic move. After all, he couldn't exactly admit he'd stayed to enjoy the show.
"Each of us gets twenty?" Ron asked hopefully.
"Of course not," Charles replied smoothly. "Greed is not a virtue, Ron. Unless you'd prefer I deduct twenty instead?"
"No, sir!" Ron shook his head so fast his hair nearly caught fire.
Only then did Charles turn back toward Houndoom.
A level 38 Houndoom—nothing troublesome for him. He could defeat it easily. But for most wizards, this was a formidable foe indeed.
And since it was a Dark-type, it'd make the perfect guardian to protect the Philosopher's Stone—especially against someone like Voldemort, who was weaker than most Ghost-types at this point.
The moment Charles laid eyes on it, he'd already decided—this Houndoom would be part of the final trial guarding the Stone.
Of course, that also meant Harry and his friends would have to face it again one day.
Charles's gaze shifted briefly to Harry. The "Boy Who Lived" still hadn't captured a single Pokémon.
Clearly, he'd need a bit of special training later.
"Come out, Pikachu!" Charles tossed his Poké Ball high.
A burst of light—and a yellow mouse landed gracefully on the ground. Sparks danced across its crimson cheeks.
"Pika!"
"Pikachu?" Ron gaped. "That tiny thing can beat that monster?"
He remembered from class that Pikachu wasn't even fully evolved! That black hellhound looked terrifying—surely it was in its final form!
Wouldn't Raichu stand a better chance?
But their doubts evaporated the moment battle began.
Charles's Pikachu was far stronger than any of them could have imagined.
A normal Pikachu's base stats totaled 320—but this one was his Partner Pikachu, with a total of 430! A full 110 points higher—almost on par with a Raichu.
And if it ever got a Z-Crystal, it would become even stronger.
Houndoom could sense it too—the tremendous power radiating from the small body before it. This was no ordinary opponent.
But as one of the Rocky Desert Region's rulers, retreat was not an option.
With a snarl, Houndoom released a fierce blast of flame—its Flamethrower compressed so tightly it looked like a laser beam!
Harry and the others held their breath in terror, but Charles and Pikachu remained perfectly calm.
"Pikachu—Thunderbolt!"
"Pikaaa—CHUUU!"
Pikachu leapt into the air, clapping its cheeks as brilliant electricity surged around it.
In the next instant—lightning split the flames apart!
Thunder shattered fire.