Dumbledore gave Erwin a long, searching look. Though he couldn’t fathom Erwin’s motives, he had little choice.
"Very well," Dumbledore said calmly. "I am quite curious to see how powerful you have beco."
Erwin sneered. "You are about to find out."
He dropped Harry Potter to the ground. The boy coughed violently. Draco glanced at Erwin, saw his attention was elsewhere, and quickly rushed to Harry’s side, hauling him up.
"Harry, are you alright?" Draco hissed.
Harry shook his head. His gaze on Erwin held no hatred, only bitter self-reproach. His mother had told him Snape was trustworthy, but the revelation regarding his parents’ deaths had blinded him. He had acted the fool, and there was no undoing it.
Erwin and Dumbledore Disapparated simultaneously, vanishing from the spot. They reappeared monts later, hovering in the sky near the Whomping Willow. It was a secluded area, and Snape and the others arrived monts later, watching the two figures suspended above.
Dumbledore wore his usual robes, while Erwin was clad in dark attire. The stark contrast made them look like opposing forces of nature. Magic began to radiate from Erwin’s body, the intensity of his power manifesting as a violet aura.
Dumbledore’s eyes flashed with surprise, though he quickly masked it. Sensing the potency of the magic, Dumbledore did not underestimate him. With a flick of his wrist, the Elder Wand appeared in his hand. Magic gathered around him, a faint crimson mist swirling in response.
Comparing raw magical power alone, Erwin was no match for the Headmaster. The onlookers held their breath.
Lupin drew close to Sirius. "He was holding back earlier," he breathed. "If he hadn’t, we’d be dead."
Sirius nodded grimly. "His target was never us. He ca for Dumbledore."
In the sky, the violet aura around Erwin swirled, but it was quickly enveloped and compressed by Dumbledore’s dense crimson energy. Erwin frowned, though he wasn’t surprised. In this initial clash of magical pressure, he had been completely overwheld.
Erwin ntally activated his abilities: Infinite Reserves! Multiple Casting!
The next second, Erwin attacked. A beam of purple light shot toward Dumbledore. The Headmaster deflected it with a casual flick of his wand, his expression unchanging. For Dumbledore, this was expected.
Erwin waved his free hand, forming complex gestures. Several fireballs rocketed toward the Headmaster.
"Eastern magic?" Dumbledore murmured, his pupils contracting slightly.
He pointed his wand forward, conjuring an ethereal suit of armor. The fireballs struck it with deafening clangs.
Erwin didn’t pause. With a flick of his wand, purple flas blood in the air like lotus flowers, landing on the ground and smoldering. Wisps of fla drifted out, coalescing into a massive purple dragon. Erwin pointed his wand at Dumbledore, and the beast roared, charging forward.
Dumbledore remained unfazed. He flicked the Elder Wand, and crimson flas erupted, forming a phoenix. The phoenix swooped, eting the dragon in mid-air. The two constructs entangled, sparks raining down and scorching the earth below.
While the magical creatures battled, Erwin and Dumbledore launched themselves from their positions.
Where Erwin had stood, Fawkes appeared, talons gleaming. Where Dumbledore stood, Ebony transford into a dark phoenix, glaring nacingly at its rival. Without a command, the two familiars clashed, sharp cries ringing out as feathers drifted from the fray.
Dumbledore looked at the dark phoenix, his surprise deepening.
"Erwin," he said, "how many more surprises do you hold?"
Erwin scoffed. "This is just the beginning, Dumbledore. You are old. Your ti ended long ago."
With that, Erwin swung his wand again. Beams of purple light shot out, splitting in mid-air.
Dumbledore vanished, Apparating away. But he hadn’t expected the purple light to curve through the air, tracking him.
Dumbledore frowned. He swung his wand, and boulders tore from the ground, intercepting the spells. The spells vanished, the boulders shattered—but before the fragnts could hit the ground, Erwin transfigured them into birds, swooping down.
Dumbledore countered instantly, turning the birds into feathers just before they struck him. It was a breathtaking duel of Transfiguration.
The onlookers were stunned. This level of combat was a spectacle they had never imagined.
Snape watched Erwin, pride warring with anxiety in his eyes. Unbeknownst to most, Erwin had grown to this terrifying level. Yet, even so, he was still not Dumbledore’s equal. Snape’s hand tightened on his wand beneath his robes. If Erwin faltered, he would intervene without hesitation.
The two clashed rapidly in the air. Dumbledore grew increasingly alard. By his calculations, Erwin should have been depleted of magic by now. How could he maintain such a furious rate of attack?
In reality, Erwin’s enhanced reserves had just expired—he was now burning through his natural magical energy.
Erwin’s wand flashed, unleashing a barrage of tracking spells that forced Dumbledore into a defensive posture, unable to dodge effectively.
Suddenly, the attacks stopped.
Dumbledore looked at Erwin, assuming he was finally out of magic. However, the next mont, Erwin sheathed his wand. His hands moved, forming intricate hand seals.
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