Although Harry's thoughts were running wild, his movements did not slow in the slightest.
When the Sword Beam Charm failed, he immediately leaped sideways and flicked his wand. Three silver stars appeared beside him. The next moment, all three released dozens of needles of light at once, pelting Voldemort like a downpour.
Voldemort frowned. This time, instead of blocking with his body, he raised a hand, and a round silver shield with an incomparably smooth surface appeared before him.
The dozens of needles of light struck it without raising so much as a ripple.
What the hell? What kind of magic was this now?
Harry cursed inwardly. Voldemort simply had far too many flashy spells.
Harry had no idea that Voldemort was inwardly grumbling as well. How did this little Potter know so much flashy magic at such a young age?
Well, Voldemort was not the only one who felt that way. The Death Eaters, the members of the Order of the Phoenix, and the Ministry of Magic staff were all astonished by the sheer number and variety of spells Harry knew.
Professor McGonagall and Umbridge felt this most keenly.
Professor McGonagall thought, I haven't heard anything about Flitwick giving Harry extra lessons. How does he know so many strange spells, so many of them Ancient Magic, at that? Could Sirius have taught him?
This is going a bit too far. Harry is still so young!
Umbridge thought, I've already placed such strict restrictions on their learning magic, so how do they still know so many spells? The school's professors wouldn't have done it. Could Sirius Black have taught him? That man really is a nuisance, isn't he?
These two people who loathed each other unexpectedly shared the same thought at that moment: both suspected Sirius.
It made sense. Sirius