Legend of Hogwarts (Harry Potter x League of Legends)

”Are you going to be a coward for the rest of your life, or will you choose to be a hero, even if only for a few minutes?”

Surrounded on all sides, Allen suddenly recalled that now-infamous quote, once a proud motto, now a meme across the internet. Still, he had no plans to go out in a blaze of glory. Screaming ”Demacia!” and charging to his death wasn’t heroism, it was sheer stupidity.

To Allen, a hero wasn’t someone who charged blindly into danger with no regard for the odds. True heroism meant being willing to sacrifice for what you believed in, even when you were powerless or the situation seemed impossible. It meant charging forward, knowing you might fail, knowing you might die, but doing it anyway.

Clearly, the Auror beside him hadn’t lost his mind either. After being surrounded, both of them chose not to act rashly. Instead, they responded with calm, signaling they meant no harm. Still, neither of them lowered their wands. A tightly packed group of people and a sealed-off space didn’t exactly scream ”friendly.”

Oddly enough, perhaps out of confidence or simply to put Allen and the Auror at ease, their captors didn’t confiscate their wands. That gave the pair at least a little peace of mind.

Under what seemed like either an invitation or a silent escort, Allen and the Auror were brought to a nearby encampment, and it was only then that they learned why they’d been ”captured.”

The reason? As ridiculous as it sounded, they’d started fighting less than a kilometer from this camp. The camp was built just beneath a small hill, and Allen had essentially picked a fight on their metaphorical rooftop!

If someone was tearing up your roof, what would you do?

Naturally, you’d beat the hell out of them. So Allen and the Auror were ”invited” over for causing a ruckus, though, of course, there was more to it than that.

The camp itself was rather modest, but clearly well cared for. Wildflowers adorned the tents, the ground was clean and swept, it was clear the people here took pride in their surroundings.

The array of tents looked like a multicultural fair. Tents decorated with symbols from all kinds of civilizations and eras stood side by side. Allen even spotted one resembling a classic American gold rush tent and another styled like a Mongolian yurt, neighbors, somehow harmoniously coexisting. Surprisingly, the neat layout made the whole setup feel less absurd.

As they returned to the camp, a few timid faces peeked out from the tents, children, most likely. They opened their mouths as if to say something but were quickly pulled back inside by adults.

Eventually, Allen and the Auror were led to the largest and oldest tent in the very center of the camp. It stood out from the rest, decorated with the fangs of unknown beasts and a patchwork of exotic pelts. At the top of the tentpole fluttered a small, oddly shaped banner, but when they got closer, Allen realized it wasn’t a flag at all. It was a massive, dried bat wing. The sight sent a chill through him, he’d burned a pair of wings just like that in sunlight not long ago.

This was, hands down, the worst magical tent Allen had ever seen. No furniture. No kitchen. No fireplace. No bed. Not even a toilet. It wasn’t even as nice as a Muggle tent. Inside, it was basically just a dim cave.

Thankfully, it was at least roomy. Lit by torches, the group was led to the very back, where stone furniture and a fire bowl rested on a sturdy stone pillar. The only decent item was a massive carpet sprawled across the floor.

The young woman who led them gestured for them to sit. An old woman brought them each a drink, but neither Allen nor the Auror touched theirs.

Of course not. No one with even a shred of sense would down an unknown drink in a suspicious setting. Allen, who hadn’t grown up in a pure-blood family, could still name over a dozen potions that left no trace when mixed into drinks. The Auror, trained as he was, certainly wouldn’t be fooled.

Noticing their refusal, the woman said nothing. Instead, she took a small sip from her own cup and then spoke calmly and clearly:

”I’m sorry, but we’ll need to detain you for a little while.”

Before Allen could respond, the Auror’s voice rang out sternly:

”Detain us? Does that mean you’re planning to imprison us illegally? If so, I’d like an explanation.”

Are you insane!? Allen wanted to scream in the Auror’s ear. They were the ones at a disadvantage here, how could he talk so boldly?

But to Allen’s shock, the young woman didn’t get angry. Instead, she softened her tone, though her voice still carried a firm, unshakable resolve.

”I truly am sorry. But... tonight is a full moon.”

The Auror’s expression shifted into sudden realization. Allen looked at both of them, stunned.

What just happened?

Why had this seemingly tough woman started acting like she was trying to please the Auror?

Wait a second... Allen felt like he had missed something. Something important.

Witches. Aurors. The full moon. A dramatic shift in attitude. A camp full of clashing cultural styles...

It wasn’t enough. What was he missing?

His hand brushed against his wand as he silently puzzled over it.

Wand?

Suddenly, it clicked.

He remembered something: the vampires had been forced to dig up their treasure because, after a mass migration of werewolves, the Ministry of Magic had renewed efforts to hunt vampires, in order to stay in good standing with the locals.

That was it.

This wasn’t a typical wizard camp.

This was a werewolf tribe.

The one they respected wasn’t the Auror himself, but the powerful organization standing behind him: the Ministry of Magic.

Just like how Ban Chao’s band of 36 could roam the Western Regions because they were backed by the might of the Han Empire, this Auror had authority because behind him stood an institution that could wipe this camp off the map.

Aside from the mysterious reason for their temporary detention, everything now made sense.

If Allen guessed correctly, when they were released, he’d be all trussed up and ”gift-wrapped” as a token of goodwill for the Auror.

Hopefully, they’d just lock him up alone for the night... Seems like this trip has just reached its conclusion.

Then a voice broke the silence:

”No, Auror-san. If what you say is true, if he didn’t dabble in dark magic or harm anyone, then we refuse to imprison him merely because of his status!”

”Even if our methods were questionable, he came here just like you, as a guest. We’ve sworn, in light of our own suffering, to never again harm innocent humans. We won’t break that vow, not for something like this!”

In the end, the negotiation concluded with them being politely escorted out of the central tent. They were granted freedom of movement within the camp, but forbidden from leaving.

What surprised Allen most, though, was that the Auror didn’t seem angry.

”Those werewolves... always so rigid,” the man muttered. ”If they knew how to adapt, they’d have gotten an official settlement from the Ministry long ago.”

”Lucky kid. Looks like tomorrow’s going to be a chase again. I’ll catch you with my own hands this time, without falling into one of your traps!”

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