There were about twenty students sitting in the temporary open space, scattered on the grass in groups of three or four. Including the professor, there were barely thirty people.

They stared at the two figures in the center, firing spells back and forth.

"Cedric, come on!" Roger Davis shouted.

"Victor, come on!"

Cedric dodged a spell, "Armor!" He held up a magic barrier and took a breath. The spell from the opposite side flew over like a sword, hitting the barrier with a bang.

The boy named "Graves" had exquisite short black hair and grinned, looking like he was sure of victory.

"Watch your step, Victor!"

Victor Graves was startled. Two thin streams of water were winding down, crossing the grass and soil, and flowing in the direction of his feet.

He raised his wand and wanted to do something. At this time, Cedric rushed out suddenly, and a red light flew out from the tip of his wand. Graves hurriedly turned around to protect himself, but the spell did not hit him at all.

The water on the ground suddenly exploded, and a large area of ​​hot water mist rose from the grass, sweeping Cedric and Graves into it, and the two of them were looming.

"Thunder Explosion!"

It seemed like a long time had passed before the sound of Cedric's spell reached the ears of the people around him.

In the mist, Cedric whispered a supersensory spell for himself, enhancing his five senses and trying his best to capture the hazy shadows.

The people around held their breath, and even Draco and the other two who had just walked over stopped seven or eight feet away, staring at the mist intently.

Fast!

It was too fast!

Everything happened within seven or eight seconds, and many people didn't react.

Flitwick praised sharply: "Great, Cedric set a trap."

Felix nodded: "He looks prepared."

"Yes, he asked me a few spells... I already know what he will do next." Flitwick said expectantly.

The mist became thicker. It was not just water mist, but a large cloud of white smoke that quickly filled the air, blocking off a space of thirty or forty feet in radius, like a goblet turned upside down, covering everything inside tightly.

The arc of the spell was like lightning, suddenly lighting up a cloud layer, and the students watching retreated one after another.

"It seems that Cedric intends to use the thick fog as a battlefield. This should be prepared for some large animals. Whether it is fighting or evacuating, it is very convenient... I didn't expect it to work well on wizards."

Felix thought for a while, "He actually needs to strengthen two parts: cut off the opponent's sight as much as possible and turn them blind. And increase his own detection methods as much as possible. It would be better if he could ignore the smoke."

"He is good at transferring spells." Moody said.

As he spoke, the clouds and mist surged violently, and layers of black extended from one point. It was like ugly mold growing on white spores. The mold spread rapidly, accompanied by a pungent smell of gasoline.

"Did Cedric do it?"

"No, it's dark magic."

Flitwick waved his wand in front of his eyes, and the mist automatically separated to avoid them.

Half a minute later, two figures rushed out, coughing violently, tears in the corners of their eyes, and their eyes were red from the smoke.

"An Ke Xiao."

Felix pointed at Cedric, and his expression immediately relaxed.

The student on the other side also quieted down, and the two stepped forward to shake hands, their eyes were red.

Professor Wilkinson of Ilvermorny said loudly: "Well done, children, you all performed well... Wait, where did these students come from?"

Felix and Flitwick had already discovered Harry and the others, but they didn't say anything. Moody on the side said in a deep voice: "I told you, Professor Wilkinson, they are not old enough..."

In the crowd, Byers looked at Neville in surprise. Many of the people here were his friends in Gryffindor. He asked about the grade. Except for the twins, the rest were basically fourth-year students.

Wilkinson looked at Harry and the others with suspicion. Harry tried his best to straighten his body to make himself look taller. "What about this little girl?" He pointed at Astoria and asked, "Did she pass your selection as well?"

"Although it's unexpected, but... yes." Felix shrugged and said, "She is only in the second year this year. Because she is too young, she did not participate in the training. The rest of the people received the same treatment at Hogwarts as the reserve warriors in the sixth and seventh years."

"Okay, as long as they don't scream loudly." Wilkinson agreed reluctantly and no longer had any objections. A group of people breathed a sigh of relief.

"The most fortunate thing is that Professor McGonagall is not here. She left in the middle." Fred winked and said.

George gave a thumbs up.

In the next few minutes, a group of professors commented on the battle just now, especially the part about dark magic. When it was Felix's turn, he reminded the students of Hogwarts: "Don't forget that some of you can do illumination, which can break the magic fog..."

Collins stared at him. She didn't choose the ancient magic class, so she was naturally not a member of the magic club. In this respect, she was not as good as Astoria, because in order to appease the little girl, Dumbledore very tolerantly agreed to her request to join the Magic Club.

Next, the students took turns to play, and each duel ended very quickly.

It was not the kind of speed that Harry had experienced in the dueling class. He thought for a long time before coming up with a reliable word.

Rhythm.

The offensive rhythm of both sides was very smooth, a kind of smoothness that he had never experienced in the dueling class before, and he had only had similar experiences with Sirius or in Classroom 7.

As for the summer special training for the second grade and several encounters with Professor Hepp, he was beaten throughout the whole process and had no pleasant experience at all.

After an hour, every senior student took turns.

Felix looked at Harry and the others looking at him eagerly, smiled slightly, and said to Wilkinson: "Professor Wilkinson, why don't you let these junior students play?"

"No problem."

Wilkinson nodded in agreement. He didn't feel embarrassed. Although the professors of Hogwarts praised these students generously, he thought it was an exaggeration. They are several years younger than the true Warriors candidates, and the age gap is not so easy to bridge.

Moreover, he had specifically asked, and most of the people here did not pass the OWLs exam.

Ilvermorny also had similar exams, and he naturally knew what kind of transformation the students who had gone through this year would undergo.

"You go up and have some fun! Don't use dark magic." Professor Wilkinson said to the students of Ilvermorny, and then he lazily sat down on the grass, took out a bottle of wine from his cloak, and took a sip for himself.

Uriah and Bethenny looked at each other helplessly, and Uriah said, "Byers, you go."

Byers nodded in agreement.

He stood in the middle, grinning, and Harry and the others were eager to move.

"Neville, let's try it." Byers took the initiative to invite.

Neville was stunned, walked to the center of the venue, and whispered, "I'm not that good."

"It's okay." Byers smiled and said, anyway, it was just a friendly match, just to change the mood.

However, the fact surprised him. Neville had mastered various basic spells proficiently, especially in the Stunning Spell and the Shield Spell. He was very spiritual, and there was no sound when he cast these two spells.

Silent spell!

Neville's steps were a bit rigid, just a few steps back and forth. Byers found the pattern after adapting for a while, but this rigid step seemed to have been tested and tempered for a long time. He felt like he was facing a reef.

Neville didn't take the initiative to attack. Usually, Byers would rush to recite the spell. Neville would cast the Iron Armor Charm and then take a few steps away, always keeping face to face with Byers. In the intervals between Byers's spells, Neville would take the time to shoot a few Stunning Spells, sometimes Obstacle Spells and Disarming Spells.

His face was tense, and it looked very similar to his dueling style.

Flitwick murmured, "This step is not taught in the dueling class at school. Although it looks simple, it requires a lot of practice. Every tiny movement has a unique purpose."

Moody shook his cane and said in a deep voice, "I seem to have seen this style somewhere. I have an impression."

"It should be taught by Frank Longbottom." Felix said.

"So that's how it is..." Flitwick said admiringly, "His father is an excellent Auror. He should have tailored this pace for Neville. It matches his own personality very well."

"Yeah, a very resilient pace." Felix commented.

On the field, Byers was a little anxious. Although they were friends, he was a candidate for the Warrior. He increased the output of magic power, and the spells lit up bright arcs of light.

But Neville was like a stubborn stone, resisting his attacks. He was still muttering something in his mouth, "Steady as a stone, light as a feather, still as a pool of water, moving like spring thunder..." He suddenly jumped out boldly, shook out a red light, and then hid himself again.

The magic barrier in front of him broke six or seven times, but he pulled it up again every time.

Uriah fell into deep thought, and Wilkinson's wine seemed to have lost its appeal. Bethenny anxiously watched her brother fall into a difficult battle, and asked in confusion: "What's going on? Why can't Byers break the boy's defense?"

"Byers didn't use a strong lethal spell, which is one reason. And..." Wilkinson hesitated and said: "The boy's steps are good, very good. And the Iron Armor Spell is really good. All his tactics are based on this spell. I have seen at least thirteen or fourteen techniques, each of which is very targeted." He took a sip of wine, laughed twice, and then watched intently.

"This is also a test for Byers. He should learn to use his brain."

After a stalemate of more than ten minutes, Byers finally found the key to breaking the deadlock. Clusters of bright flames flew out from the tip of his staff, condensed into a vague big bird, and rushed towards Neville.

In the surprised eyes of everyone, Neville urgently cast a second layer of Iron Armor Spell for himself to block the flames firmly.

"Wow!" Ron looked at Neville in surprise, and his impression of Neville seemed to be reshaped.

The flaming bird broke through the first barrier, and then crashed into the second armor spell, almost breaking itself apart. But Byers waved his wand again and again, and the flaming bird regrouped, this time bypassing the front and flying from the side.

Neville admitted defeat neatly.

"You can still hold on for a while." Byers came over and shook hands with him solemnly.

Neville shook his head, "You have found the flaw," he said, touching his head naively, "In fact, my father has made a tactic for me, but I can't use it now."

"Well, it seems that you have a good father." Byers said helplessly.

Then, the students of Ilvermorny became serious. They suddenly realized that these students who were two or three years younger than them on average were not so easy to deal with. They took turns to play and actively selected their opponents. At the same time, they followed Professor Wilkinson's orders and Byers's practices and did not use black magic and powerful spells. But with their superior magic power and spellcasting skills, they quickly defeated Susan Bones, Emilce, and Zabini one after another, which made the students of Ilvermorny feel relieved. It seemed that these people were not all masters like Neville.

Draco's performance was also quite good. He fought back and forth with a witch from Ilvermorny. The powerful spell he used in the third-year duel competition almost made him successful. But the serious Ilvermorny students were indeed carefully selected reserve warriors. Any of them was at the level of a novice Auror.

If the positions were switched and these Hogwarts students took the initiative to attack, the students of Ilvermorny would consume their magic power.

...

As his companions were picked one by one, Harry became a little anxious. Why didn't they choose him?

Just because he was shorter? He looked weak?

He stared at Astoria. The little girl was so angry that no one looked at her at all. Obviously, she had been trying hard to stand at the front.

Harry suddenly felt a little sad.

Even Hermione was on the stage. Her opponent was the wizard named "Graves". Graves smiled and said, "I've heard your name quite a few times these days, Miss Know-it-all?"

Hermione frowned. His tone was not kind.

"Can we start?"

"Of course." Graves grinned.

"Swoosh!"

A silent disarming spell flew out quickly. Graves jumped aside and looked at her in surprise. "Is this the spell you are best at?"

Hermione said with a straight face, "You will know." She waved her wand repeatedly, and spells flew out one after another. In a short period of time, she suppressed the opponent, forcing Graves to prop up a circular magic barrier to completely wrap himself up.

Flitwick asked in surprise, "When did Granger master the silent spell? Moreover, she can apply it to multiple spells. This is not the case of someone who has just mastered it."

Moody's magic eye turned wildly, staring at her movements, silent, and secretly calculating in his heart.

Felix explained, "She has always been good at controlling magic. When I asked her to write a paper on dueling system, she put the silent spell first."

"Why?"

"Her spells..." Felix thought for a while, carefully selected words and said, "It's quite conventional. Some details that reflect the control power can often give people surprises, but the power of the spell is not satisfactory."

Flitwick immediately understood what he meant, "This is actually nothing. Granger's spellcasting is very stable, which is her biggest advantage. When she grows up, she can fully play her advantages and choose compound spells... Oh, my God!"

In the open space, Graves broke the previous tacit understanding.

The black flames expanded and scattered into more than a dozen balls, hanging in the air. As his wand slashed down like a sharp blade, the flames suddenly fell from the sky.

Hermione held up a magic barrier and immediately felt the blazing heat. Her hair smelled a bit burnt. She hurried away and saw a big hole in the magic barrier burned by the black flames in panic.

"What is this?"

"Devil's fire, I said no black magic is allowed," Wilkinson said in a deep voice, "Graves is a little out of control. He cares too much about this honor... We are ready to separate them at any time."

Several professors approached at the same time. Flitwick said sharply, "We should stop this fight. It has gone beyond the scope of learning."

Felix said calmly, "I feel the same as you, Filius, but I believe Miss Granger."

More than a dozen black flames hit the ground, burning the green grass to ashes, looking like the footprints of the devil falling from the sky. Hermione's eyes widened, and she dodged in a panic, while waving a series of armor spells to resist.

Harry and Ron were anxious and wanted to rush over, but with the professors around, they barely restrained their thoughts and watched the black flames that hit the ground turn into twisted long snakes, coiling their bodies, and then rushing towards her.

"What are the professors waiting for?" Harry asked puzzledly. He pulled out his wand, and the tip of the wand flashed with light. What magic should I use at this time? Disarming spell, Stunning spell, Armor Charm, or Patronus?

It seems that none of them will work... He simply pointed his wand at that "Graves" and wondered whether to cast a curse on him.

Hermione was not too panicked, she still had the last trump card. She glanced at Felix, and Felix nodded at her. So she stopped and let the black flames surround her, with golden light flashing on her fingertips.

Wilkinson had already raised his wand, and Bethenny handed her wand to Uriah, "Quick!" Then they heard a strange spell from the girl's mouth.

Golden flames poured down from Hermione's palm. Compared to the small flame displayed in the Ancient Rune Office more than a month ago, it has now grown into a behemoth. The golden flames surged around like a flood, colliding with the black flames rushing towards her, and the black flames collapsed at the touch, being churned into pieces.

Graves's expression froze on his face.

The golden flames continued to shrink, and finally a huge firebird flew out, like a phoenix, much more exquisite than the magic that Byers had previously sketched. It let out a high-pitched long cry, and in just a moment, the golden firebird appeared in front of the stunned Graves, a foot away from him, his hair curled and turned into ash, and his pupils reflected a long golden beak.

"This is what I want to see." In the silence, Felix nodded and said with satisfaction.

...

Graves was pulled away, his expression was a little absent-minded, and there was lingering fear in his eyes when he left.

Professor Wilkinson came over in silence and apologized to several professors at Hogwarts: "Graves... took this tournament too seriously. He carries the hopes of many people and wants to restore the glory of his family..."

"Graves?" Flitwick repeated, "This last name sounds familiar."

"The descendant of the twelve Aurors, just like me, which makes me empathize with him and relax my supervision of him." Wilkinson said: "More than seventy years ago, there was a scandal in the American wizarding world. Percival Graves, the security director of the Magical Congress, was impersonated," he explained sullenly, "causing a huge mess and almost exposing the entire American wizarding world."

"Impersonated?" Several professors looked over.

"This matter is very secretive," Wilkinson whispered, "Not many people outside know about it."

"Who impersonated him?" Felix asked with interest.

"Grindelwald." Wilkinson only said a last name, but everyone present knew who he was referring to.

"It's actually related to Grindelwald!" Flitwick said in surprise, "Then the kid just now..."

"Victor Percival Graves." Wilkinson said, "Percival Graves is his grandfather, which is why he has a problem with his mentality. I can guarantee that if he causes trouble again, I will send him back."

Several professors didn't say anything else. It was an accident in itself. A student broke the rules, and no one else could be blamed. Besides, the students of Hogwarts didn't suffer any loss. On the contrary, that Graves, I'm afraid, has a lot of psychological trauma.

Not only him, but other students in Ilvermorny were shocked and stared at Hermione. In their hearts, this witch with messy hair has become one of the students who must not be provoked.

Even Professor Wilkinson deliberately asked before leaving: "That little girl...you don't plan to let her become a warrior, right?"

"No, she's not old enough." Felix said.

Wilkinson learned about Dumbledore's age limit from Flitwick, and he praised this approach. "I think it is necessary... Yes, it is necessary. Warriors are under great psychological pressure, so it is best not to let students who are too young participate..."