Avada had already been fighting for nearly a full minute. While holding off the fake Professor Baker's relentless assault with an unyielding Protego, he kept his gaze locked onto the impostor's eyes, watching his every movement. At the same time, he calculated silently:
Baron should be almost ready by now… As long as I stall until his Dark Magic is fully prepared, this will all be over. He should be right…
Even in the midst of fierce combat, he spared a sliver of attention to glance at a patch of cover behind the fake Baker.
There. That's the spot.
With so much time passed, Baron's Dark Magic is definitely ready. He's observing me right now… All I need to do is hold Baker's focus completely, then signal Baron. Once he unleashes that powerful curse from behind, we'll win instantly…
Good. Professor Baker and I are stuck in a stalemate. He seems to have completely forgotten Baron's existence. Time to give the signal!
Three… two… one…
Avada's left hand—previously stable as he cast supportive gestures—suddenly froze for a split second. A tiny opening appeared. The strength of Protego dropped sharply. If the attacker increased the pressure right now, he might shatter it entirely and break the stalemate.
"Hmph."
But the fake Baker ignored this golden opportunity. Instead, he let out a cold, disdainful laugh. The next instant, he swung his wand backward and fired a vicious spell straight toward the cover where Baron was hiding!
"Impossible!!"
Avada's face drained of color. "How could you possibly see through my setup?!"
"Oh, there's quite a lot I can see through…"
The fake Baker was about to mock him further—until he noticed the magical ripple from the impact on the cover felt… wrong. It did not resemble hitting a person, nor being blocked.
BOOM!
A massive cloud of luminous smoke erupted from the spot Baron was supposed to be hiding, expanding outward in an instant and blanketing the entire battlefield.
"Argh!"
The devious smoke was made of countless glittering particles. Before the impostor could react, several particles slipped into his eyes. Blinding pain stabbed through them, tears streaming uncontrollably as though he might go blind on the spot!
[Mr. Shafiq was already invisible. And with Mr. Kent keeping me occupied, I wouldn't have the spare attention to defend against hidden threats. So I would definitely use "Legilimency" to read Kent's mind and learn your arrangements. Don't worry—at that point my mind would already be too strained to maintain Magical Perception, so Legilimency is guaranteed…]
[At that moment, Mr. Kent would need to use Occlumency while deliberately meeting my gaze, feeding me false information. My mind would be weakened by then—I'd be unable to see through even the crudest Occlumency. And I'd be too mentally disoriented—being outmaneuvered by two first-years—to even consider the possibility of a first-year knowing Occlumency. Of course… Occlumency is very hard to learn. Mr. Kent, you may need to spend extra effort to—]
[What? You already know it? Splendid!]
Naturally, Avada knew Occlumency—he had spent half a year studying the mental structure of none other than Professor Snape, a master of the art. How could he not know it?
[Though this would put me at a great disadvantage, it would also make me realize all of my patterns had been fully deciphered. My actions would grow unpredictable. My covert magic would remain uninterrupted. This next stage would be the most volatile—and I haven't yet thought of a completely safe countermeasure… Mr. Kent, you wanted to say something?]
All of my techniques… all my habits… completely laid bare… Who?! Who could know me this well?!
The fake Baker healed his eyes frantically, fear gnawing at his heart. Never in his long adventuring career had he encountered something like this—a foe who not only understood every part of him but crafted tactics so precise that two first-years had driven him into utter humiliation.
Who knows me this well?! Who?!
I don't know how you understand me, but… you underestimate my skill!!
Found you!!
Within the blinding smoke, relying on intuition and sound, he dodged several spells. Then he spun sharply, flicked his wand, and fired a brilliant blue bolt at an otherwise empty patch of air—
"No!"
The fake Baker's lips curled slightly. He was quite satisfied to hear his enemy's cry.
A heartbeat later, the blue light struck. A crisp shattering noise echoed—like broken glass. The entire Room of Requirement warped madly, twisting like a wrung towel before snapping back to normal only seconds later.
But the previously hidden door of the Room of Requirement had reappeared.
Yes—this was what the fake Baker had been doing from the very beginning. Even while fighting Avada under the combined strain of curses and poison, he had never stopped: he was systematically unraveling the spatial magic within the room.
The moment he realized the door had been concealed, he understood there must be another wizard out of sight manipulating spatial magic to trap him. So throughout the duel, while pretending to fight with desperation and fury, he was actually searching for flaws in the room's spatial enchantments.
In the end, his superior experience won out—just as it had in countless battles before.
He forced his exhausted mind to work, cast several acceleration spells on himself, and then pushed through the pain and fatigue, sprinting toward the exposed door. His speed was so great that afterimages formed behind him.
The spatial magic was already trying to hide the door again—he had to get out first.
As long as he returned to Hogwarts Castle—Dumbledore's domain—no conspiracy would matter. And on the eighth floor lived Professor Flitwick, a powerful wizard who could ensure his safety.
Finally, his fingers touched the smooth wooden door. Using all the momentum of his sprint, he shoved it open and tumbled out—
Back into the eighth-floor corridor.
Seeing the familiar stone tiles, the walls, and the Tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, the fake Baker almost burst into triumphant laughter.
But reason barely held him back. Instead, he shouted at once:
"Professor Flitwick! Help me! I was attacked!!"
BANG!
A door flew open, slamming into the wall. Professor Flitwick—still in messy pajamas, clearly fresh from bed—hurried toward him with tiny, rapid steps. At the sight of the disheveled Baker, he gasped.
"Merlin's beard! Professor Baker, what happened to you?!"
"There's someone in that room—trying to ambush me! I only just escaped! They could come out any second—be careful! Their level is extremely high—and they're controlling two first-years—"
He pointed shakily at the still-visible door, voice trembling as though he might faint.
"Good heavens… how could this… Oh, Albus, you're here too? Wonderful! Professor Baker is— Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"
In the next instant, under the impostor's paralyzed stare, Flitwick abruptly turned his wand—firing two lightning-fast spells straight into him at point-blank range!
"You?!"
But he didn't even have time to question the "Professor Flitwick" before him. Because the door of the Room of Requirement opened again, revealing Baron Shafiq standing behind him. His wand glowed with a haunting, icy blue radiance…
Dark Magic—Soul-Freezing Curse!
That was the impostor's final conscious thought before everything went dark.
(End of Chapter)