I Swung a Sword at Hogwarts

One of the five training dummies suddenly charged out, wielding a wooden sword and slashing straight at John.

John raised his own sword to block, then twisted his body to deflect the force and slashed at the dummy's waist—cutting it clean in half.

"Faster now... and it hits harder too."

Turning to look at the bisected dummy, John's eyes drifted to the passive ability he had earned at the end of the previous school year.

[Knight: Greatly increases power when wielding a sword with both hands. Power is enhanced even further when mounted.]

"Two mentions of 'greatly increases' in one skill," John muttered. "No wonder it nearly killed me to get this."

Back in the last term, he hadn't even been able to scratch the dummies—he had nearly collapsed under a single strike.

Even though the swords were wooden, the ones in the dummies' hands were incredibly heavy and sturdy. A casual swing could leave a crater in the ground.

"Today, I'm beating hard mode."

John's eyes gleamed with confidence as the second dummy stepped forward.

This one was fast—really fast—as it sprinted toward him.

John stayed calm and focused, then—

"Reducto!"

A beam of white light struck the dummy, blasting it to pieces.

Holding his wand in his left hand, John nodded at the result.

"With more experience in magic, my spell power has increased too."

But his unorthodox way of testing spell strength seemed to have provoked the remaining dummies.

The next second, three dummies charged at once.

One with immense strength.

One with extreme speed.

And one with agility and magical prowess, occasionally launching spells from afar.

John's expression shifted. He had to block melee attacks, dodge sudden assaults, and watch for spellfire.

Under such pressure, he quickly began to falter.

A red beam from the wizard dummy hit him squarely and sent him flying out of the training area.

The three dummies stopped moving. John groaned, feeling nauseated.

"Ugh—"

He vomited.

A slimy slug slithered out of his mouth.

"Damn it!"

The visual impact was overwhelming. John retched again.

More slugs followed. He quickly reached for his wand to dispel the curse.

Because of the training, he had taken off his protective charm, so the Shield Charm hadn't auto-activated.

He hadn't expected one of the dummies to use a minor hex—not dangerous, but extremely humiliating.

At least, it disgusted him enough to want to dismantle all three of them.

"One mage. One assassin. One warrior."

After removing the curse and cleaning up the slugs, John's face turned serious. These three were an impeccable combo.

One absorbed damage from the front, one distracted from the side, and the last launched the main offense.

The combination made him feel like a wild mini-boss being ganged up on by a team of players.

He tried again and again, and after the third time he had to regrow his front teeth, he had to admit defeat.

"These three-on-one fights are tough. Maybe I just need to level up."

His pupils unfocused as he summoned his status panel.

[Magic: Level 3 (1085/1500)]

[Spells: Levitation (Lv.4), Transfiguration (Lv.2, can morph into dragon form), Disillusionment (Lv.4), Incendio (Lv.4), Reducto (Lv.3), Fiendfyre (Lv.3), Occlumency (Lv.4)...]

[Skills: Small Weapons Mastery (Lv.7), Greatsword Mastery (Lv.4), Firearms Mastery (Lv.1), Runes Mastery (Lv.2), Alchemy Mastery (Lv.2)]

[Passives: Fortified Body, Rapid Assault, Precision, Scholar 2.0, Pilot, Long Distance Runner, Sword Dance, Night Demon, Troll Slayer, Knight, Fire Eater, Intimidation, Hardened, Draconic Speech]

His Greatsword Mastery was stuck at level 4. It was sufficient—but against this trio, it was clearly lacking.

He debated whether to spend his last remaining skill point. Once used, he'd have to wait until his next mission to gain more.

"Whatever. Hogwarts is relatively safe for now."

Fueled by stubbornness and lingering disgust, John had to take those three dummies down to vent his frustration.

He tapped to level up Greatsword Mastery—and instantly, his familiarity with the weapon surged.

He replayed his previous battles in his mind and realized how clumsy and overly defensive he had been.

It was like he had practiced a thousand times—his control over the sword felt natural and effortless.

"A weapon is merely an extension of the hand."

His eyes focused on the three dummies again.

As he re-entered the training zone, they raised their heads in unison to look at him.

"Come," he whispered. "I am the fire dragon."

With that, the Sword of Twick reignited in flames.

John launched himself forward like a wild stallion.

The warrior dummy met him head-on, slashing down from above.

John didn't back down. He held his sword with both hands and advanced, narrowly dodging the wooden blade and countering with a fierce wind-splitting slash.

Just then, a red beam shot toward him. He stomped hard with his right foot—the spell grazed his sword and missed.

A rush of wind behind him—an ambush from the assassin dummy.

John twisted his blade into a reverse grip and parried the strike from behind.

The warrior dummy followed up with another strike. John flung the assassin back with brute force and brought his sword down hard, severing the warrior dummy's sword arm.

The mage dummy attacked again. John seized the moment to pull out his wand, cast a Shield Charm to block the spell, then pivoted on his left foot and flung his greatsword around in a wide arc.

The hilt spun in his palm, and just before flying out of his hand, he caught the end—extending the blade just enough to pierce the assassin dummy through the chest.

With one disabled and one impaled, only the mage dummy remained, continuously firing spells.

John used Shield Charms to block and even deflected one back to hit the disarmed warrior dummy, knocking it down beside the assassin.

With each parry and counter, John steadily closed the distance.

Though the mage dummy could move, it was far too slow compared to the assassin.

John batted aside another spell and returned fire with a white light orb, blasting the mage backward.

Seizing the opportunity, he plunged the Sword of Twick into the mage dummy's body—its flames igniting it instantly.

He had cleared hard mode.

A weight lifted from John's chest as he sat down, feeling completely refreshed.

"Needed level 5 just to beat hard mode... then what level do I need for Master Mode?"

His curiosity about Master difficulty grew. If Hard was already like this, did Master expect him to fight Voldemort?

Then again, that seemed unlikely.

As John sat on the floor, a wooden sword resting in the corner began to transform.

Its rough, oversized form shrank, pieces falling off like shedding skin—reassembling into a humanoid figure.

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office—

Dumbledore returned after finishing some matters.

Inside, the Sword of Gryffindor trembled slightly.

Noticing this, Dumbledore approached it, a look of surprise on his face.

"Albus,"

The Sorting Hat suddenly spoke. Dumbledore turned his head, a knowing look dawning.

"He's back?"

"No," said the Hat. "His chamber has been opened."

When it came to the secrets of Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat knew the most.

Dumbledore stepped closer, concern in his eyes. "Who opened it?"

"I don't know. You know how the Founders were."

That answer plunged Dumbledore deep into thought.

He knew each of the four founders had left behind legacies—like Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. The others had done the same.

And the "he" the Sorting Hat referred to... was Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor's chamber... could it be you, Harry?"

Harry Potter was the first person who came to Dumbledore's mind. After all, such chambers only opened for those deemed worthy heirs.

And Harry, the prophesied savior, was his strongest candidate.

The Sword of Gryffindor stilled, and Dumbledore lapsed into silence once more.

"Have you sensed danger too, drawing closer?"

Back in the training room, John had rested enough and was preparing to leave.

As he turned to retrieve his sword from the fallen dummy, the flames had died and the red glow had faded.

He took a step forward—then suddenly froze.

Standing before him was a young man wearing a wizard's hat, staring at him intently.

In that moment, John felt like he had been locked in the gaze of a lion.