Legend of Hogwarts (Harry Potter x League of Legends)

Could Allen get the key?

That was a question worth exploring. The answer, of course, was yes, but the real question was how Allen would manage to snatch it.

Every solved problem gave birth to another. If Allen could get the key, why did he still have Harry sit down and enjoy afternoon tea?

This isn’t about Allen thinking fighting a bunch of keys is too ”low-level.”

No, this was a test, a trial to build Harry’s confidence! Absolutely not for any other reason.

Harry performed flawlessly, living up to everyone’s expectations, and retrieved the silver, door-handle-shaped key.

Applause and cheers erupted from the remaining four. With one hand on his broom and the other clutching the key, Harry watched as the others neatly folded the picnic cloth, finished the remaining desserts and tea, and tidied the floor.

”Nice work, mate! I knew you were the best!” Ron exclaimed, holding a half-eaten tart, rushing over to hug Harry and offer his heartfelt congratulations.

Yet Harry felt strangely uneasy, why did it feel like he had lost, even though he had the key?

Damn it, I flew half the day and didn’t even get a sip of hot tea... T-T

But there was no time to complain. This key wasn’t a compliant Golden Snitch, it squirmed violently in Harry’s hand, trying to escape with surprising strength.

With a quick snap, Harry inserted the key into the lock. The door responded with a click, the lock was open.

One by one, the group entered the next room.

Originally pitch-black, the room immediately lit up the moment Allen and company stepped inside. At the same time, the door behind them clicked shut.

If this were a game show, the background music would rise, lights would spotlight Harry, and he would begin his solo performance.

Wait... why Harry? Where was Allen?

Ah, right... Allen got cut, his story didn’t hit the judges’ emotional cue, didn’t fit the show’s vibe.

If it were a mystery show, Allen could have donned a red bow, borrowed glasses from Harry, swapped into a blue suit, and shouted with the BGM:

”The truth is always one!”¹

But in the magical world, the story unfolded differently, and tragically for the audience.

Yes. The mechanism here was... Professor McGonagall’s giant Transfiguration chessboard.

...sweat drops in Allen’s mind

Compared to previous challenges, this one was way too low-level.

Chess, why not play Gwent instead?!

Granted, it was a clever trap. Not every wizard was a chess master. A non-player could easily get stuck here, bewildered.

But the problem now was, Professor McGonagall, your automated chess wasn’t AlphaGo!

You see, wizard chess was one of the few popular entertainments in the wizarding world, like chess in China. You never knew when a master would suddenly show up...

For instance, in the team, young Ron was quite skilled. Sadly, he wouldn’t get a chance to shine.

Allen had no intention of playing chess. Ron’s skills... well, let’s just say they wouldn’t dominate this situation.

What if Ron had played? How would they cash out?

Allen used a different method, probably the kind Voldemort would use.

Even if we can’t beat AlphaGo at chess, there are other ways. Allen didn’t believe busy Voldemort, desperate to appear as an excellent student before the professors, would have time to study chess. Even with Quirrell added, forget it.

How to win?

Simple: one hammer. Nothing a hammer can’t solve; if it can’t, then two hammers...

Of course, this was the worst-case method. Allen was civilized, he wouldn’t actually smash anything. But the logic was worth noting.

Minutes later, the rest watched Allen wreak havoc across the board with a mix of awe and disbelief...

Harry was dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Hermione looked like she had learned something.

Ron’s expression was heartbreak and despair; his worldview was crumbling.

Annie? She pulled out a bag of desserts and shared with Hermione while taking notes.

What did Allen do?

He tied every piece on the board with a firm layer of vines. The white pieces couldn’t move even one step. Allen alone, facing McGonagall, was about even, adding small restrictions was child’s play.

The strategy was simple:

Allen made a move, the computer didn’t.

Allen moved again, still nothing.

Allen moved again... and the computer seemed to surrender!

No wonder Ron looked like his worldview had collapsed, he had never seen such trickery.

Anyone with even limited chess experience knew that with this strategy, losing was nearly impossible.

Finally, Allen slid the last piece off the board, and the door at the back of the room immediately opened, as if afraid Allen would refuse to leave.

No surprise, cheating or not, leaving the last piece on the board was rare behavior.

Allen touched his nose, leading the group of increasingly complex-minded young wizards out of the room. Chess never felt this good!

He didn’t care how McGonagall would feel about her carefully set board being destroyed, after all, Allen was Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. Why worry?

Along the long corridor, the group walked leisurely, raiding a dungeon had never felt so much like a vacation.

Suddenly, a foul stench hit them. Allen’s expression changed immediately, he recalled something ominous.

No way... Professor Sigma set up a trap for us?

Impossible to tell. Considering Sigma’s mastery of mischief, even Allen wasn’t sure he could avoid it.

His serious expression alerted the others, it was the first time they’d seen Allen like this.

”Is it dangerous ahead?” Annie asked, breaking the silence. ℯℯ𝘭.

”A little,” Allen murmured, activating shields all over his body. Who knew what Sigma could do?

The three watched dumbfounded, this was the first time Allen had shown his full power.

”Be careful. I’ll scout ahead; once it’s safe, I’ll signal you!” he instructed.

After careful preparation, Allen pushed open the door.

Inside wasn’t a trap from Sigma, but a massive ogre. The stench came from it. Allen jumped in surprise.

The ogre, clearly angered, raised its massive weapon.

Unfortunately for it, the wizard opposite remained unfazed. He shrugged, hands open, unimpressed by the scare.

As the ogre charged, a calm, self-mocking voice rang out:

”Speak up, my mood’s not good. How do you want to die?”

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