Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione caught Daphne standing motionless, fully immersed as if she were part of the audience. A helpless sigh welled in Hermione's chest.
For Merlin's sake, girl—remember 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 Megatron's advance and buy Hermione some breathing space.
At least they had numbers on their side. Hermione kept Megatron's attention fixed on her while Daphne, now focused, cast her spells with far more precision, only needing to react when Megatron flung the occasional counter-curse her way.
They'd already noticed a pattern—Megatron's use of magic seemed bound by some 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 Megatron's armor into something weaker, but the plates shimmered with an enchantment 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 Megatron 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 Megatron's arms lifted. Magic coiled at his fingertips—this time in both hands at once.
CRACK! CRACK!
The sound was like glass shattering.
Their Shield Charms fractured instantly. Before, it had taken Megatron 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 consumed 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 Megatron!" 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 Megatron—
> A system to draw ambient magic from Hogwarts itself, just like the castle and Nicolas Flamel'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.
Flamel 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 Flamel 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 Megatron 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, Flame Bursts, and Armor-Breaking Spells.
Hermione barely managed to raise a fresh shield before it shattered under a shattering hex. Flames licked dangerously close to her hair, forcing her to retreat in a panic. She dropped her wand entirely—and sure enough, Megatron 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 Megatron's spells to erupt in craters across the ground. But brute force triumphed over ingenuity—Megatron 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 me!"
Her outburst sent Astoria into a fit of giggles, and soon the whole crowd followed.
"Don't blame me." Tom raised his hands innocently. "Blame my teacher."
He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Wouldn't you agree, Andros?"
A faint, cold hum answered him.
Still pouting, Daphne stormed 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 Megatron too!"
With Daphne stepping aside, Megatron stood idle, waiting. Justin's excitement 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 swarmed 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 amusement as laughter and excitement filled the Hogwarts grounds.