Harry would find a way to truly kill a demon in the real world, even without energies opposing fel magic or high-energy zones, sealing the demon completely. After all, since demons he was familiar with had already appeared in this world, returning to Azeroth might no longer be just a fantasy.
He wasn't afraid of someone like Voldemort showing up again. If that dark wizard somehow found a way back from the Twisting Nether, Harry, now prepared, would ensure his permanent demise.
Compared to the threat of a single demon imp, the demons and fel corruption within the castle were far more pressing concerns.
Harry knew that to defeat a demon army, he first had to shut down the portal supplying their endless reinforcements, then execute a decapitation strike against their commander, and finally clear out the remaining demons while purging the land of its corruption. In terms of demon containment, Azeroth had long established a proven strategy.
After regaining some strength, Harry briefly bandaged the wound on his chest and purified it again with the power of water, restoring enough combat ability for now. The curse on Voldemort's dagger was a unique form of dark magic exclusive to wizards. He planned to seek out Snape and Dumbledore for a proper fix after the battle; for now, suppressing the curse to prevent it from flaring up would suffice.
Not intending to venture into the castle's lower levels alone while injured, Harry left the headmaster's office and headed toward the Astronomy Tower to rendezvous with Professor McGonagall and the others.
He couldn't afford to lose this battle. No matter what, he wouldn't let the demons establish an invasion foothold in this world.
The war raging at Hogwarts felt like something out of a mythical legend to many professors and students. Real demons, straight out of stories, were actually here. The sounds of combat—shouts, clashes, and explosions—echoed everywhere, with elemental spirits joining the fray as reinforcements.
Like raindrops, elementals poured into Hogwarts, battling grotesque monsters with fire, frost, water, and falling stones.
Even though the students had been evacuated to Hogsmeade, they could still see the chaos at the castle from afar—especially the massive ice dragon soaring around the castle's perimeter, prompting screams of awe. Truth be told, many students still hadn't grasped the gravity of the situation. To them, it was just too cool.
Imagine, the elemental spirits they were so familiar with from daily life at Hogwarts were now displaying such incredible combat prowess. Even now, more elementals were emerging from the Forbidden Forest, the sky, and the Black Lake, charging toward the castle.
Many students—mostly Gryffindors, naturally—were clamoring to return to the castle to fight alongside their professors and protect their school.
Professor Sprout had to harshly discipline a few particularly rowdy ones to keep the excited students in check.
As Harry hurried through the corridors between the towers, he even saw centaurs from the Forbidden Forest charging out, some wielding bows and spears, others carrying massive totems. These were warriors from the Trito tribe, rushing to aid Hogwarts after learning of the attack.
Things were going better than Harry had expected. When he reached the Astronomy Tower, he was surprised to find that Professor McGonagall and the Ministry's forces had already pushed back the demon frontline.
After a quick assessment of the wizards' combat, Harry understood why they were faring so well.
Yes, the magic of this world had weakened over years of decline, lacking raw destructive power. Even Aurors, trained for combat, had spells with limited lethality. The Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra, could drain a target's life force instantly, even a demon's.
But the problem was that Avada Kedavra demanded immense magical energy, making it costly to cast. Moreover, the Aurors' Killing Curses were single-target spells, which struggled against swarms of spider demons, their power insufficient.
In Harry's mind, Avada Kedavra would be ideal if it could split and attack multiple targets, draining the life force of all enemies around a single hit—or even designate an area to sap life force en masse. Wait… that sounded disturbingly like fel magic.
And it was green, too.
Even though the Killing Curse felt almost too gentle against demons, and the professors shunned Unforgivable Curses and dark magic, their spells were wonderfully versatile and unpredictable. It was precisely these spells that allowed the wizards to hold off the demon assault and begin a counterattack from the Astronomy Tower.
Harry watched as a half-human, half-spider demon warrior roared and charged, only to be transformed into a teacup mid-stride, shattering upon hitting the ground. It was truly dead. Even though the demon's bloodline allowed it to resist the Transfiguration and revert to its original form, a shattered corpse was useless regardless.
Utterly absurd.
Harry often found this world's magic baffling. It wasn't powerful enough to destroy a mountain with a single spell, yet it could manipulate time or suppress a demon's magic resistance to transform them. The bizarre effects were endless.
Even a seemingly mundane spell like the Severing Charm could effortlessly slice a spider demon into pieces—not by physically cutting with external force, but through a conceptual power. Once hit by the spell, the target was simply divided.
A normal spellcasting process would be: Cast spell → Magical energy performs the cut → Cutting complete.
But the wizard's Severing Charm was: Cast spell → Cutting complete.
It skipped a step entirely. The only drawback was that the spell's projectile had to hit the target directly, but once it did, the effect was guaranteed.
No reasoning required.
As for Transfiguration, which could transform targets from a distance, that was even more ridiculous. The long corridor Harry stood in was littered with shattered tables, chairs, wooden blocks, and porcelain fragments—all of which, in theory, were demon corpses. It was… oddly poetic.
It almost felt like the demons' corpses, which would normally pollute the environment, had become eco-friendly.
Using Human Transfiguration on sentient beings—er, other wizards—was a one-way ticket to Azkaban's deepest cell. No one would dare do such a thing in normal times. But demons? They weren't human.
Honestly, Harry wondered if Professor McGonagall was using these demons as practice dummies for malicious Transfiguration. A rare opportunity, perhaps?
Even more absurdly, Harry saw a ball of fel fire hurled by a spider demon warlock toward the wizards, only for it to change direction mid-air, morph into a green fel phoenix, and turn back to incinerate the warlock who cast it.
Fel magic didn't care about "masters" or "casters." If you weren't strong enough, you died. This scene repeated itself multiple times, making it seem as though the wizards, not the warlocks, were controlling the fel magic.
Truth be told, Harry hadn't expected wizards to be able to transmute magic cast by others, effectively seizing control of it.
Just by observing Professor McGonagall and the Aurors' combat, Harry felt he'd gained a new understanding of wizarding magic.
"Harry?! You're here!"
As Harry swung his warhammer, charging from the other end of the corridor and smashing three or four demons, the wizards noticed him. Professor Flitwick shouted in his high-pitched voice.
"We need to shut down their portal at the source! Otherwise, we'll never clear out these demons!" Harry yelled, urgency in his voice.
"The dungeons! They're in the dungeon classrooms!" Flitwick called back. "I know where they are, but I can't get there alone. I need help!"
"We'll go together, Professor Flitwick!" Scrimgeour decided instantly. "Aurors, to the dungeon classrooms! Attack!"
No guide was needed. The British Ministry's Aurors were all Hogwarts graduates; they knew exactly where to go.
After quickly clearing the nearby demons, Harry joined the group and charged toward the dungeon classrooms. It wouldn't take long—stairs were the fastest route.
"Take us to the first floor!"
As the group reached the castle's moving staircases, Professor McGonagall called out. The next moment, as if understanding her command, the staircases stopped their mischievous shifting and obediently carried everyone straight from the top floor to the first.
"Merlin's beard! I always thought the idea of Hogwarts having a consciousness was a myth," an Auror said, leaning against the banister to catch his breath.
"Hogwarts still has many secrets, doesn't it?" McGonagall said with a small smile. "We're here."
The first floor of the castle had become a chaotic battlefield of elementals, demons, and animated armor statues clashing. McGonagall's face paled at the sight. The intense fighting had wrecked the castle's decorations and walls. The cost of rebuilding, in Galleons, would be astronomical.
"Don't worry, Professor," Harry reassured her. "If need be, we can launch a fundraiser in the wizarding community. I'm sure the alumni would be happy to contribute to their alma mater."
"Let's hope so," McGonagall sighed softly.
"As long as we drive the demons out, everything will be fine," Harry said, then turned to Scrimgeour. "Where's Fudge? Wasn't he with you? Don't tell me he's—"
"Fudge fled!" an Auror interrupted angrily before Scrimgeour could respond. "That damned coward! How dare he run from a battle to defend Hogwarts? He's unfit to be Minister!"
"Enough, Jenkins," Scrimgeour said, clearly furious but trying to maintain the Ministry's dignity in front of outsiders. "Rest assured, even without Fudge, our fighting strength is more than enough."
He no longer referred to Fudge as Minister.
"True. You lot are far better than him," Harry nodded.
These Aurors, seasoned from years of battling dark wizards and magical creatures, were indeed a formidable force among wizards.
Thanks to the staircases, the group quickly reached the castle's lower levels.
Crunch!
An Auror squashed a small spider scuttling across the floor, looking as though he might vomit at any moment.
"Sorry, he's got a thing about spiders," Scrimgeour said, defending his subordinate.
"I get it. For most people, this scene is a bit too much," Harry said, nodding. "But you'd better get used to it fast. You don't want to die in battle over something this small. If it's too much, you can head back upstairs to clear demons there."
The castle's underground corridors had become a nest for inhuman creatures. Bone-white spider webs draped everywhere, with unknown pus and pools of fel-tainted water scattered across the floor. Yellow-green spider eggs, some as large as a person, others smaller than a thumb, pulsed and twitched in dense clusters.
The only thing they had in common was their sheer number. Harry wasn't the only one thinking about the consequences if even one of these spiderlings escaped and the demons gained a foothold in this world.
Not a single one could be allowed to escape—that was the unspoken agreement among them all.
"Incendio!"
Crimson flames roared to life. No one was foolish enough to wade into the enemy's territory or touch the toxic-looking webs.
Blazing fire purified everything, from the webs to the eggs. The popping of bursting egg sacs and the shrill screeches of newborn spider demons dying filled the air—a sound straight out of hell. The sheer volume was enough to make many feel uneasy.
Their new home was being destroyed, driving the adult spider demons pouring out from the corridor's depths and nearby classrooms into a frenzy. Though many could wield fel fire, that didn't make them immune to flames.
Especially Fiendfyre.
Some Aurors, unable to withstand the intense mental strain, had resorted to this forbidden dark magic.
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