Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 294, Section 293: The Death of the Demon and the Ball Invitation

“I have prepared a special execution ground for a devil like you. Get ready, little Crouch.”

In the end, only this sentence reached Crouch's ears before he completely fainted.

The damage caused by Crouch Jr. himself was not even as great as the Fiendfire he unleashed. Dumbledore's use of Fiendfire to fight Fiendfire resulted in most of the Colosseum being burned to the ground, leaving not even a speck of ash. The two types of Fiendfire almost devoured everything.

However, it must be said that although Dumbledore's wondrous blue Fiendfire appeared somewhat weak in the face of the fel Fiendfire, it still stubbornly and gradually consumed, devoured, and burned away the vigorous fel energy, preventing this highly polluting energy from causing more harm to this land.

Finally, the Aurors and the professors worked together with Dumbledore, the master of Fiendfire, to extinguish the last bit of Fiendfire. It was clear that suppressing Fiendfire, which had devoured so much of the matter of reality and fel energy, was so unruly that even Dumbledore found it difficult to control. When the flames were completely extinguished, the white-haired old man couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Harry could see that there was still sweat on his forehead.

“That’s it,” Harry couldn’t help but joke, “your previous claim that you didn’t know anything about dark magic has been completely debunked.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore sighed slightly, then suddenly laughed. “Luckily, I did it to protect more people, otherwise such a spell would have been enough to send me to Azkaban.”

"The greatest dark wizard of the end of the world!" Harry laughed even louder. "A very powerful Fiendfyre."

“I was not its original inventor,” Dumbledore said, blinking. “You understand.”

“Grindelwald?” Harry nodded knowingly. “Then he certainly is—”

“Thank God! You didn’t let him escape!” Wiping the sweat from his brow, Scrimgeour strode over. “Ha! Crouch! I remember his face. He looks a lot like Barty… when he was young.”

“I’m sorry, Rufus, I can’t let you take him away,” Harry said, knowing Scrimgeour’s purpose.

“Why?!” Scrimgeour immediately became serious. “I guarantee that Crouch Jr. will receive a fair trial, and he will spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. This time, no one can save him.”

“It’s not because of that,” Harry shook his head and said, “You probably didn’t see it clearly just now. Crouch’s current human form is just an illusion. He has become a demon—the kind of demon you’ve seen before.”

“Evil, a demon?!” Scrimgeour’s eyes widened in shock.

The Fiery Blaze had burned too fiercely and the scene too chaotic in the previous battle, so he hadn't seen Crouch clearly at that time.

Without a word, Harry simply kicked the unconscious Crouch with his electrified foot, and the demon, who had automatically reverted to his human form after falling unconscious, revealed his true demonic nature once more.

With skin interwoven with green and brown, covered from head to toe with nodules, and faintly shimmering with fel energy, this hideous demonic face instantly calmed Scrimgeour down—it seemed Azkaban truly couldn't contain a demon.

“I remember you said demons are immortal,” Scrimgeour said, frowning.

“They’re not immortal, but they’ll resurrect in their lair if they’re not killed properly,” Harry explained. “But don’t worry, I have a way to kill one demon completely. Just leave him to me.”

“Alright, it’s decided then,” Scrimgeour said decisively. “I believe you, Harry. You won’t let a demon escape. What do you think of the Triwizard Tournament—”

"Oh my god! What happened?!"

Lady Magsim's voice suddenly rang out from afar, accompanied by Karkarov. It seemed the commotion at the Colosseum was so great that it had attracted their attention.

Ms. Maxim and Karkarov stared in disbelief at the Colosseum—or rather, the ruins of what was once the Colosseum. Such a large building, where they had been scoring the contestants just yesterday, was now almost entirely gone, with not even ruins left, burned into an empty space.

“Something has happened,” Harry explained briefly. “You may know the word, but now you’re about to witness it firsthand—the devil.”

Harry kicked the demon at his feet and continued:

"Perhaps you still recognize him, Karkaroff—aren't you going to say hello to Crouch?"

"Voldemort is hiding in the shadows."

Karkarov, who was hurrying towards them from a distance, suddenly stopped. In the sunlight, his face was deathly pale, and his lips trembled, as if he might turn and run away at any moment—as if he wanted to run away right now.

....................................

Fel energy belongs to the chaotic power of the six fundamental forces of the universe, while its direct counterpart is arcane energy, which belongs to the power of order.

In other words, for demons, a special species whose very nature is chaos, order is the opposite attribute that can completely annihilate them. From this perspective, the power of light, or holy light, is somewhat meddling, since chaos and order are directly opposites.

What about elements?
In the context of the entire universe, elements... are somewhat insignificant, only one level above the real world, belonging to the third or even fourth level of things born from the interaction and collision of the six fundamental forces.

For example, the essence of most elements is chaos, such as the wind and fire elements. However, there are also elements with clear order and hierarchy within their own groups, such as the earth and water elements.

The symbols of the six fundamental powers are all embodied in the elements, which means that Harry can indeed find the power of order in the elements and use that power of order to kill a demon.

—After all, the demon he was going to kill wasn't named Sargeras, it was just a minor demon.

Right beneath Hogwarts, or more precisely, in what used to be Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, Harry set up a ritual space in the secret chamber behind the Slytherin statue.

The demon's body granted Crouch Jr. powerful regenerative abilities, and he had regained consciousness, but he was unable to do anything due to the elemental constraints, and could only curse Harry with words.

Harry wouldn't naturally have a clear understanding of the six fundamental powers, but as a shaman, he did have a deep grasp of the power of the elemental order, not to mention... the power of the soul.

Harry's meticulously designed ritual was essentially to use the purifying power of water and the power of the soul to wear down Crouch Jr.'s demonic soul. When the energy was sufficient, even a demon would be unable to return to the Twisting Nether to be resurrected.

This would be an incredibly painful process, like sanding away a person's flesh, nerves, and even bones bit by bit with sandpaper. Even more terrifying was the panic of clearly perceiving one's very essence disappearing little by little. Crouch's screams never stopped from the beginning. Harry, a seasoned veteran of many battles, naturally wouldn't doubt his own suffering based on the enemy's cries. The only fault was Crouch's incredible resilience; therefore, the methods reserved for Voldemort had to be used on him.

But if anyone else were to enter this secret chamber, they might wonder which side was the true evil dark wizard, since Crouch had eventually stopped cursing and hurling insults and was instead desperately begging for mercy.

Harry, of course, would never agree to such a plea for mercy. People like Crouch, who were once Voldemort's fanatic followers, had countless innocent Muggles whose hands were stained with his blood. When those Muggles begged for mercy, the Death Eaters did not spare them—when they once took pleasure in the cries of Muggles, they should have known that they would eventually receive their due punishment.

Surprisingly, it was quite enjoyable.

Having fought demons for over a decade, Harry now only feels nostalgic when he hears their wails... He longs to return to Azeroth...

Shaking his head, Harry dismissed the thought after it only briefly crossed his mind. Everything was different now. He had his own responsibilities in this world, and he needed to protect it from the devil, just as always.

Little Crouch was left in this world as nothing more than a trace of white, translucent ash. It was strange that even the final remnants of a demon's soul could be so beautiful.

Harry put the ashes into a jar, intending to bring it to Voldemort in the future, to show him the fate of his subordinate, or rather, his adopted son.

Anyway, Crouch Jr. didn't see Voldemort as his real father, and Voldemort didn't refute that, did he?

Compared to this minor matter, what's giving Harry a bigger headache right now is the Colosseum, which has been mostly destroyed. The arena was so badly damaged that it took many Ministry of Magic employees months of working overtime to rebuild it, only to have it become like this after just one match.

Scrimgeour was stunned when he realized he still had to have the Colosseum repaired. Repairing a building was simple for a wizard, but the difficulty lay in the numerous spells attached to it, such as the reinforcement spells and the Unseen Stretching spell. Making these spells work while maintaining their effectiveness was no easy task.

Fortunately, there is still more than a month before the second match begins, giving the Ministry of Magic staff time to make amends.

Before that, December had arrived, and with several heavy snowfalls, Christmas had unknowingly come to Hogwarts.

Unlike in the past, due to the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts will traditionally hold a Christmas Ball, open only to students in their fourth year and above, with the exception of the Champions. Of course, lower-year students will need an invitation from upper-year students to participate.

"So, whether you're a champion or a headmaster, you need to find yourself a dance partner, Harry."

In the headmaster's office at the Great Totem, Professor McGonagall spoke to Harry, suppressing a laugh.

"A dance partner..." Harry said, somewhat troubled, "Do I want one too?"

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said with certainty, “and given your status, you will also have to lead the dance for all the warriors, wearing formal robes—absolutely no animal furs or wolf or boar heads as decorations!”

For some reason, Professor McGonagall's expression suddenly turned serious.

"The ball will be held in the Great Hall at 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve and will end at midnight. I will take care of the specific arrangements with the other professors. All you need to do is practice your dance steps, at least don't break the ladies' feet. Hmm, you won't embarrass Hogwarts, will you?"

Harry: "..."

He... he can indeed dance.

Tauren War Dance!!

Every qualified Tauren must learn to wiggle their butts with everyone when the campfire is lit!

But this kind of war dance is clearly not suitable for a Christmas ball, is it?!

"I...I will try my best," Harry said dryly, unable to bring himself to refuse under Professor McGonagall's stern gaze.

"Very good, don't forget your dance partner," Professor McGonagall said with satisfaction before leaving.

As the Vice-Headmaster of Hogwarts, she has the duty and responsibility to identify and address any shortcomings in the Headmaster's work.

Harry was indeed in a strange predicament, because he discovered that ever since news of the Christmas ball spread, a large number of people had been waiting for him outside the Great Totem from morning till night, just waiting for him to come out—and they were all girls!

As soon as he appeared, the girls, both from lower and upper grades, would either look at him with expectant eyes or simply come up to him and ask if they could be his dance partner.

Very proactive and very enthusiastic.

As for inside the castle, it was even more exaggerated. Harry had encountered many situations where, simply by shifting his gaze, the girls in the area would cover their faces and giggle as they ran away, or blush and forcefully meet his gaze.

Harry: "..."

He was finding it difficult to move forward; he had never encountered such a situation before, or rather, he had never spent so much time with so many teenagers.

"So, would you like to be my dance partner, Hermione?" Without any beating around the bush, Harry asked Hermione directly after they finished dinner.

"Varied?!"

Hermione, who had been trying her best to suppress her voice and control it so much that it almost broke, was completely surprised that Harry would suddenly say such a thing at this moment. Hermione, who had been trying her best to maintain a nonchalant attitude all day, blushed and could no longer pretend that nothing had happened.

"This is so sudden!! Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?!" Hermione turned completely red, clenching her fists and screaming, "And we're all warriors, aren't we?! I need to find one too—find one—"

"There's no rule that says champions can't be dance partners, is there?" Harry shrugged. "Or are you just unwilling? Do you have someone you want to invite?"

(End of this chapter)