days at Hogwarts

Chapter 548 Granger has never been a nerd who only knows how to memorize books

Ben Nevis, outside a secluded woodland.

The open space next to the woods was not a good place to camp, especially since there was plenty of water nearby, which was a good place for mosquitoes to breed. It was summer now, and all kinds of annoying mosquitoes were buzzing towards the glowing campfire and oil lamps, until McNeill's head hurt because of the noise, and he threw a bag of potion residue wrapped in linen into the fire with impatience on his face.

Thick white smoke gradually spread, and the surrounding mosquitoes suddenly fell down, and the camp finally became quiet.

A smile appeared on McNeill's ugly face. "Look, Barty, this stuff is really useful. It's better than the potion that Lucius put in the tent. I heard that this is the formula that Severus learned when he went to the African continent. There are many potions there that work through smoke..."

Barty Crouch Jr., who was busy in the open space next to him, looked intently at the neatly arranged wooden boards in front of him, thinking about how to piece them together to make a large portkey.

In order to prevent it from being touched or taken away by people other than the user, conventional makers usually make portkeys into inconspicuous old objects or garbage, such as broken fish barrels, old boots, discarded leather jackets... But now he wants to make a portkey to transport giants, it must be big enough and strong enough. Considering that those giants have no brains, it must also be made prominent and conspicuous so that idiots can see it at a glance.

Hearing him mumbling about Snape's potion, Crouch licked his cracked lips and asked in a deep voice: "Has Snape been to Africa? When did he go? The intelligence he reported to the Dark Lord did not mention this journey..."

"Who knows?" McNeill chuckled. He knew that the Dark Lord's most loyal servant looked down on Snape because that person was equally favored. "There shouldn't be anything worth reporting. Potions masters like them like to look for materials and formulas in strange places."

Crouch glanced at his slightly offended look expressionlessly, raised his eyebrows, and lowered his eyes: "Whether it is worth reporting should be decided by the Dark Lord. I will report this matter when I return."

"you're right……"

McNeill chuckled in response. He didn't want to get involved in these messy fights. Compared with these people favored by the Dark Lord, he was just an insignificant servant.

Crouch felt inexplicably irritated, and just when he was about to say something else, he suddenly heard a giant's hoarse roar in the distance, and a group of sleeping birds flew out of the woods behind him.

"Something happened to that Gugogogoma!"

The two Death Eaters looked at each other, waved their wands, and transformed them into two rolling black mists that rose into the air and flew towards the depression.

……

The sky in the late summer night generously casts silver light, and the moonlight is so bright that even the colors of the surrounding rocks and plants can be clearly seen.

Two figures dragging black mist were seen crossing the sky. The two people who were sitting side by side stood up from the ground and shook off the dirt on their bodies.

Ever since the troll incident on Halloween in their first year, the two had been insisting on dueling training. At first, it was simple attack and defense spells, and then it gradually upgraded to the control of the battle rhythm and the coordination between spells. Later, Hogwarts also opened related dueling courses. The results of the two far exceeded those of wizards of the same age. Before and after the Goblet of Fire Tournament, in the dueling classroom of the Book of Fantasy, they learned the concept of the transformation battle system...

After all, those were safe environments watched over by professors, and tonight was their duel practice.

Loren mobilized the gradually surging magic power in his body, and waved the magic wand upwards with his hand tilted: "【Thunderbolt Pierce】"

Two scarlet beams of magic light shot out with a whistling sound that pierced the night sky, and rushed straight towards the figure in the black fog. The two beams of black fog stopped abruptly in mid-air, staggered, and fell towards the direction where the two people were standing in a somewhat embarrassed manner.

The two sides looked at each other from a distance of thirty feet, wands in their hands, brewing spells that were about to be cast.

Loren raised his voice and laughed, "Long time no see, Moody... No, should it be Professor Crouch? Professor Crouch, we all thought you taught the Defense Against the Dark Arts class very well last semester, why did you suddenly resign? Did you find a new job with better pay?"

"Loren Morgan, Hermione Granger?"

Barty Crouch Jr. recognized the two outstanding students and subconsciously glanced around, suspecting that there were other people lying in ambush nearby. However, as he was standing high on the ridge, the leeward slope below was in full view and there was no place to hide anyone.

He heaved a sigh of relief. He was a little panicked when he encountered the hasty attack, but when he found that the attackers were just two underage wizards, a smile appeared on his lips, with undisguised cruelty: "Two lowly mudbloods, Dumbledore actually sent you to die, Defense Against the Dark Arts class? You don't have to attend the class anymore, I will turn your bodies into two bones and bury them in the soil of Ben Nevis..."

"What a presumptuous fellow! We greet you warmly, but you actually want to treat your students like this. You don't have the manners of the Crouch family at all. What's the matter, Professor Crouch? Didn't your father teach you etiquette?"

Loren's long-winded shouting echoed in the empty mountains, and the expression on the face opposite him became even uglier.

"Ah, I forgot that your biological father was murdered by you, leaving only a pile of rotten meat, and you found a new father. That new father probably won't teach you any manners and politeness..."

Now even Hermione beside him couldn't help but glance at him.

Is this the emotional provocation and psychological suppression in the duel course?

Learned, learned...

Barty Crouch Jr.'s face became more and more gloomy. He licked his lips and squeezed out a cold voice from his throat: "I changed my mind. Before I kill you, I will torture you with the Cruciatus Curse until the sun rises, so that you can understand what grace is!"

Walton McNeill, who was standing nearby, rolled his eyes, quietly raised his wand and pointed it at the little witch not far away, and a charming red light floated.

As a key member of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Animals, his daily job is to chop off the heads of beasts with an axe. His colleagues in the Ministry of Magic are accustomed to calling him a skilled executioner, a cruel butcher, or other names that represent his ruthlessness. McNeill does not refuse, but enjoys these names because he loves this job.

Many years ago, that annoying Scamander had not yet retired and lived in seclusion. Under his influence, the probability of the death penalty by the Dangerous Animal Disposal Committee was less than a quarter. Fortunately, through his efforts in recent years, he has gradually changed this phenomenon, and now most of the cases handed over to the committee will be sentenced to death.

As he inflicted more and more torture on animals and cut off more and more heads, McNeill found that his mastery of the Unforgivable Curses was becoming more and more proficient...

McNeill opened his eyes wide with excitement. When he thought of the young life not far away that was about to groan and wail under his spell, his breathing became a little rapid:

"[Heart-piercing]"

A red beam emitting strong malice rushed towards the witch on the right and hit an invisible magic shield, making a metallic trembling sound.

The bright red light stimulated by the Cruciatus Curse was reflected in Hermione's beautiful eyes, as bright and dazzling as the galaxy hanging high in the sky. The magic power contained in the beam of light was constantly consumed by the Shield Charm, blooming with brilliant light until the magic power was exhausted and disappeared silently.

Loren turned his head to look at the little witch, a little dissatisfied: "Why didn't it bounce back?"

"The Unforgivable Curse is different from other spells, so we have to be safe..." Hermione calmed her breathing, her eyes bright and she looked at McNeill with confidence, and the uneasiness and tension in her heart disappeared.

Crouch originally blamed McNeill for taking action on his own and robbing him of the fun of hunting, but when he suddenly saw that the little witch was able to resist the sneak attack of the Cruciatus Curse in a hurry, he felt a little suspicious.

Looking at McNeill, whose eyes were also wide with surprise, Crouch frowned and reminded him, "Be careful, she is the top of the grade, and her dueling ability is no worse than that of an ordinary adult wizard."

"Got it." McNeill suppressed his excited desire to kill.

The four people looked at each other, divided their opponents tacitly, paced to both sides, and slowly separated.

"[Heart-piercing]"

The Cruciatus Curse sounded the whistle for the four-man battle. For a moment, brilliant magic light intertwined on this leeward slope. Powerful spells bombarded the rocky soil, splashing dust. The dull roar and the rhythmic pounding sounds from the nearby cave echoed with each other, mixing into a noisy symphony.

Hermione had fought many battles, but never in direct confrontation with wizards.

Four years ago, in the abandoned bathroom of Hogwarts, the little witch once cast a fire spell to drive away the troll.

Under the withered vines of the Devil's Snare in the underground passage of the castle, the first-year witch once wielded the sword of Gryffindor and cut off Voldemort's idea of ​​seizing the Philosopher's Stone.

Hermione Granger is not just a nerdy know-it-all who only knows how to read. Last year, when she practiced dueling with the warriors from Hogwarts and Ilvermorny before and after the Goblet of Fire, she always had the upper hand.

At first, the sinister McNeill did not take the top witch in the grade opposite him seriously. She was just a Mudblood witch who had just finished the fourth grade and had not yet entered the fifth grade. Not to mention that she was a senior Death Eater and Executioner, even a novice employee who had just joined the company this year could kill the little witch quickly. However, when the spells from the opposite side were poured on him densely and the offensive was endless, almost making him exhausted, McNeill's heart sank gradually.

However, a wizard's duel is never just about skills. He doesn't believe that an underage witch can defeat him with decades of experience and magic!

"It's all just a death struggle, just like those animals facing execution, it will only make your death more painful!" McNeill sneered, dodging the opponent's spells and releasing his tricky-angled Unforgivable Curses again and again.

However, the opponent's agile and strong Iron Armor Spell was able to successfully block it every time.

Hermione stood sideways thirty feet away, constantly extending her wand with her right hand like a sword, sometimes to launch insignificant attack spells, sometimes to block spells coming from various angles.

The counterattack of the Shield Charm requires precise control of magic power and direction. Not everyone has a pair of magical eyes like Loren. Hermione can only rely on her own brain. As the feeling of the Cruciatus Curse bombarding the Shield Charm becomes more and more familiar, her control over direction and magic power becomes clearer.

"Slanting upwards..."

"Slanting downwards..."

"Right in front of us..."

"Just a little bit - I found it!"

Hermione's eyes shone brightly, her lips moved as she chanted the Shield Charm aloud, she raised the wand in her right hand, and the magic power flowed along the vine wood wand to form a slightly tilted transparent shield at the tip of the wand, which collided head-on with the whistling Cruciatus Curse.

There was a crisp ding sound, and the invisible transparent shield flashed.

The powerful Cruciatus Curse paused for a moment, then flew back at the same speed and hit the executioner's chest.

McNeill's pupils contracted violently. This was the first time he faced the Cruciatus Curse that he had released. A strong malice came over him, as if a pair of invisible hands reached into his chest through his mouth and nose, pinching his heart, and his breathing couldn't help but stagnate.

Abundant experience guided the body to make an almost instinctive reaction. McNeill bent down and rolled on the ground, barely avoiding the Cruciatus Curse he had released in an almost embarrassing posture.

Watching the red light fall on an unnamed herb, the originally green leaves instantly turned yellow and dehydrated. McNeill, who had crawled up from the ground, broke out in a cold sweat, his heart rumbling against his ribs and almost jumping out of his chest.

This is a fourth-year underage wizard! ?

Enduring the dull pain in his temples and the dizziness in his mind, McNeill looked back at the little witch with tense cheeks and couldn't help cursing in his heart.

Hermione held her wand in her hands, feeling secretly annoyed that she had forgotten to cast a spell while he was dodging. She didn't know if Loren had seen it or not, and she might be scolded by him again later.

There was no sudden pursuit. McNeill slowly calmed his heartbeat through breathing and suppressed the strong discomfort coming from his body and mind. He urgently wanted to say something to intimidate the other party and cheer himself up.

Just as McNeill was about to speak, Hermione swiftly waved her wand: "Fire all the bullets!"

Grains of gravel floated up from the ground and shot out at a distance of several feet from the ground, making a sharp sound of breaking through the wind.

McNeill had no doubt that these stones could pierce his flesh and even break his bones. He took a big step to the left, dodging the stones while waving his wand to fight back. Just as he was reciting the Cruciatus Curse almost instinctively, the words turned around at his lips and were replaced with a safer Stunning Spell.

Hermione looked at the spell which was a few seconds slower than expected, and a smile appeared on her lips.

He hesitated, and hesitation meant a decrease in concentration, a slowdown in casting, and a decrease in vigilance...

Summoning the transparent magic shield once again, he bounced the stun spell back, blasting several rocks at McNeil's feet thirty feet away.

McNeill dodged his own spell with a stern expression. The hesitation and indecision made the strong malice in his heart no longer firm. However, he did not notice the abnormality on the ground around him. The gravel that he had just avoided had gathered nearby and was shaking slightly.