Harry Potter: I, Tom Riddle, am not the Dark Lord Chapter 196 196: The Flying Curses

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione caught Daphne standing motionless, fully imrsed as if she were part of the audience. A helpless sigh welled in Hermione's chest.

For rlin's sake, girl—rember you're not a spectator, you're a target!

"Huh? Oh!"

Startled from her daydream, Daphne finally snapped back to reality, firing off a Barrier Charm to slow gatron's advance and buy Hermione so breathing space.

At least they had numbers on their side. Hermione kept gatron's attention fixed on her while Daphne, now focused, cast her spells with far more precision, only needing to react when gatron flung the occasional counter-curse her way.

They'd already noticed a pattern—gatron's use of magic seed bound by so kind of cooldown. He never cast continuously.

But that defense… it was maddening. No matter what they threw at him, they couldn't break through.

Hermione even attempted a Transfiguration Spell, aiming to morph gatron's armor into sothing weaker, but the plates shimred with an enchantnt that repelled alteration. Her clever plan crumbled before it even began.

The crowd swelled. More and more students gathered to watch, eyes wide with fascination. Even Hagrid, who had been in the garden wrestling with a bucket of flesh-eating slugs, hurried over at the noise. He dropped the entire bucket in his haste—its contents spilling back into the vegetable patch to wreak havoc again.

But one glance at the duel, and Hagrid was rooted in place, towering at the edge of the crowd with a childlike grin on his face. The slugs were forgotten.

"Tom, you're not trying to exhaust us to death, are you?" Daphne huffed, sounding more bored than frightened.

"Then let's… turn things up a notch."

Tom's smile was calm, almost playful. A beam of light shot from his wand and struck gatron square in the chest.

The colossus froze for a heartbeat. Then, with a low hum, the golden glow in his eyes shifted—into a cold, electric blue.

A chill rippled through Hermione and Daphne alike.

Both of gatron's arms lifted. Magic coiled at his fingertips—this ti in both hands at once.

CRACK! CRACK!

The sound was like glass shattering.

Their Shield Charms fractured instantly. Before, it had taken gatron three or four spells to break Daphne's defenses. Now? Just one volley. The surge in power was undeniable.

Tom's voice drifted lazily to the girls, "The earlier mode was only the safety setting. It consud the least energy, activating spells only by feeding off your stray magical leakage. But now…" His grin widened. "…this is standard mode. Careful."

"That's brilliant—it's just like the real gatron!" Justin Finch-Fletchley shouted. Several other Muggle-borns nodded eagerly, their faces alight.

After all, these were the years of sci-fi cinema's golden rise. Seeing a towering figure cast magic like a machine of the future? It was easy to forget they were still at Hogwarts.

"Riddle, does he have any other forms besides these two?" one eager Ravenclaw asked, curiosity burning in his voice.

Tom chuckled. "Of course. There's Strong Enemy Mode and Blood War Mode. Each tier is a leap above the last."

When he'd told Hermione this construct was his "masterpiece," it had been no exaggeration. Unlike his usual habit of conserving resources, Tom had poured everything into gatron—

> A system to draw ambient magic from Hogwarts itself, just like the castle and Nicolas Flal's estate.

> A magical core modeled after the Philosopher's Stone.

> Armor forged from mithril and cursed black steel, etched with runes for offense and defense alike.

> Over ninety percent of its body crafted with self-repairing enchanted alloys.

Flal himself had stared in stunned silence when Tom first presented the materials list, half-convinced that Dumbledore had sent this boy to ruin him financially.

Had Tom attempted to mass-produce them, even a few hundred units would have bankrupted his master.

The only part that had truly impressed Flal was the transformation system. The rest? It was simply flawless execution—a reflection of Tom Riddle's frighteningly solid foundations.

On the field, however, Daphne and Hermione were on their last legs.

Standard-mode gatron was fast. He no longer waited for borrowed magic but instead fueled his own spells with his core. The once-basic blasts of Knockback Jinxes and Stunners had escalated into brutal Exploding Curses, Fla Bursts, and Armor-Breaking Spells.

Hermione barely managed to raise a fresh shield before it shattered under a shattering hex. Flas licked dangerously close to her hair, forcing her to retreat in a panic. She dropped her wand entirely—and sure enough, gatron ceased attacking her, redirecting his wrath toward Daphne.

Daphne's Transfiguration was superior, and her magical reserves deeper. She conjured thick earthen walls with Molding Charms, forcing gatron's spells to erupt in craters across the ground. But brute force triumphed over ingenuity—gatron charged and smashed through her constructs with his fists, each blow pulverizing stone into dust.

The girl froze, dumbstruck for a second. Then she wailed aloud, throwing her wand aside.

"I quit! Tom, this is cheating! What kind of wizard fights with fists? You're bullying !"

Her outburst sent Astoria into a fit of giggles, and soon the whole crowd followed.

"Don't bla ." Tom raised his hands innocently. "Bla my teacher."

He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Wouldn't you agree, Andros?"

A faint, cold hum answered him.

Still pouting, Daphne stord up to Tom, landing playful punches against his arm.

"Riddle, can I try?" Justin's voice rang out, brimming with eagerness. "I want a go against gatron too!"

With Daphne stepping aside, gatron stood idle, waiting. Justin's excitent was contagious; many others around him were just as eager.

"I want to try too! Transfiguration should work best, right?"

"No, no, Corrosion Hex would eat through that armor for sure!"

Dozens of students clamored, their voices tumbling over one another, desperate to prove themselves.

Tom considered, then nodded slowly. "All right. Groups of five. That way, I can properly test his performance. Finch-Fletchley, pick your team. The rest of you, form a line."

"Yes, sir!" Justin's fist pumped in triumph. Instantly, he was sward by volunteers. He selected two fellow Hufflepuffs and two Ravenclaws, marching proudly to face the looming automaton.

High in the tower, Albus Dumbledore stood by the window, watching the chaos below. The corners of his mouth curled upward in quiet amusent as laughter and excitent filled the Hogwarts grounds.