Chapter 209: "Summer Beginnings and Tournament Preparations"

The first few days of summer at Black Castle passed in a blur of relaxation and preparation. Harry, finally free from the pressures of OWLs and school, allowed himself a brief respite. He spent mornings flying in his Thunderbird form, reveling in the freedom of the open skies. Afternoons were dedicated to casual dueling practice with Sirius and refining his control over his newfound lightning abilities.

As July approached, excitement began to build. The European Dueling Championship loomed on the horizon, promising fierce competition and a true test of Harry's skills. Harry also badly needed the dueling experience to handle the battles he was expecting this year with the mayhem during the Quidditch World Cup and the potential battle with Voldemort if he revives successfully during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.

To prepare for the tournament, Master Flitwick invited Harry to his residence for some extra practice. Flitwick had a dueling arena constructed in his home, providing Harry with a real dueling experience. Flitwick's home was modest, similar to the one Harry's grandmother had gifted him in her will, which he now occasionally visited. However, Flitwick's residence was a bit more special, housing a huge library and the aforementioned dueling arena. There were also some goblin weapons in the arena, hinting at Flitwick's diverse martial background.

At Flitwick's home, the diminutive professor went all out in their duels. Knowing Harry could handle Death Eaters, Flitwick taught him to the fullest, pushing Harry to his limits. Harry, witnessing Flitwick's true strength for the first time, accepted that even though he was now strong, he was still not a match for a serious duelist in a legal duel. He still had much to learn. However, Harry knew that if he used his other advantages like his knight strength and speed, he could potentially win.

After identifying Harry's weaknesses, Flitwick put him through rigorous paces.

"Remember, Harry," Flitwick advised during one particularly grueling session, his high-pitched voice serious, "this isn't like the junior leagues or even the All-England Tournament. Here you will be taking on some of the best duelists in the world. This tournament is more prestigious, and you'll see duelists from all walks of life with unique styles fighting for the coveted championship. You'll be facing fully qualified adult wizards, some with decades of experience. Don't let your guard down for a moment."

Harry nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "I understand, Professor. I'm ready for this."

This intensive training continued for a couple of weeks. The tournament was scheduled for the third week of August, and by that time, Harry had started to keep up with Flitwick. He won occasionally, but he wasn't proud of these victories, knowing that the professor was now past his prime.

The day of departure arrived swiftly. Harry, Sirius, and Flitwick gathered at Flitwick's place, trunks packed and anticipation high. This was not a one-day event. Like the Under-17 European Championship he had participated in a couple of years back, this tournament was also going to span three days. Again, no extended family this time, as everyone was busy with the loose Death Eaters and the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Even Sirius had found it difficult to get leave to accompany Harry.

"Got everything, pup?" Sirius asked, ruffling Harry's hair affectionately, which really annoyed Harry, eliciting a glare in response.

"If you don't stop doing that, I'll give you a first-hand experience of what I've learned for this tournament," Harry warned, only half-joking.

Sirius laughed and withdrew his hand. Flitwick watched this banter with an amused smile on his face.

With a crack of apparition, they vanished, reappearing moments later in the Ministry of Magic, from where they took the official portkey out of the country. This time, the portkey transported Harry and his group to the bustling magical district of Paris. The city buzzed with energy, witches and wizards from across the continent converging for the prestigious tournament.

They made their way to the grand Hotel Magique, where the tournament organizers had set up registration. This tournament was far more organized and grander than previous ones, with the organizers even providing accommodation for the contestants and their guests.

As they approached the desk, Harry couldn't help but notice the double-takes and whispers that followed him. His reputation, it seemed, had preceded him. This was expected since Harry was no longer a newbie to the scene. He had participated in the England tournament last year, which got canceled midway. However, this wasn't the main reason for his reputation. The fact that he had defeated three strong Death Eaters had significantly boosted his fame. Now everyone knew he was no ordinary kid.

"Name?" the bored-looking witch at the registration desk asked.

"Hadrian Potter," he replied, trying to ignore the sudden hush that fell over the nearby crowd.

The witch's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "Ah, yes. Mr. Potter. Here's your information packet. The opening ceremony is tomorrow evening at the Palais de Duel."

As they made their way to their rooms, Flitwick began reviewing the tournament format. "It's a combination of group stages and knockout rounds," he explained, his excitement evident in his squeaky voice. "You'll start in a group of four. The top two from each group proceed to the knockout stages."

Sirius chimed in, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, "And the rules are pretty lax. No Unforgivables or lethal spells, of course, but beyond that, almost anything goes, even dark magic. It's as close to real combat as you can get in a tournament setting."

Harry nodded, his mind already racing with strategies. "Sounds exciting. I can't wait."

The next evening, they made their way to the Palais de Duel, a magnificent structure that seemed to blend classical French architecture with magical enhancements. Inside, the grand hall was abuzz with competitors and spectators alike. It was a temporary but grand structure built specifically for this prestigious tournament.

The tournament organizer, a tall, elegant witch named Madame Rousseau, took the stage. Her voice, magically amplified, echoed through the hall. "Welcome, duelists and honored guests, to the 127th European Dueling Championship!" She paused, allowing the excitement to build. "Over the next week, we will witness displays of magical prowess that will go down in history. May the best witch or wizard prevail!"

As the crowd cheered, Harry felt a thrill of excitement course through him. This was it – his chance to revive the Potter name on the international stage. As he looked around at his fellow competitors, he knew the road ahead would be challenging. Many of his competitors had strong auras, and Harry knew he was going to have many exciting and thrilling duels.

As the opening ceremony concluded and the competitors began to mingle, Harry found himself the center of attention. Duelists from across Europe approached him, some seeking to size up their competition, others hoping to catch a glimpse of the young wizard who had faced down Death Eaters. Harry handled the attention with grace, making mental notes about potential opponents and their demeanors.

Later that night, as Harry lay in his bed at the Hotel Magique, his mind raced with possibilities. Tomorrow, the real challenge would begin. As he drifted off to sleep, his last thoughts were of the duels to come and the chance to better his skills on the grand stage.