Harry’s blood rushed with adrenaline and excitement as the automatons repaired and tried to fight him again. Every swing of his massive sword- though heavy, felt as easy as breathing air. The way he reacted, parried, defended himself and attacked came to him like it was second nature. It was almost the same as the first time he’d hopped onto a broom and chased after Malfoy in his first year. He was a natural swordsman, and just like flying did it made him feel alive.