It rained heavily and lasted for half a month.

By the end of November, the rain finally stopped, but what came was not sunny days, but heavy snow.

From the damp and cold autumn to the damp and cold winter.

Although the weather was bad, Harry and Neville did not stop their training.

People are weak.

This is true for adults, and Neville is no exception. Even though there is always a fire called "revenge" burning in his heart, the environment of Hogwarts is too safe.

Safety means laxity.

When it rained, Neville thought about giving up. The muddy road, the cloudy vision, and the heavy rain were all factors that were not conducive to exercise.

When it started to snow, he thought about giving up. The heavy rain and snow made the environment even worse.

Harry didn't give him a chance to slack off.

He was dragged hard and continued to exercise.

The contract has been signed, and Neville has no chance to go back on his word.

These days, he often goes to the school clinic.

Neville has always been a frequent visitor to the school infirmary, but compared to previous years, he always came in due to some accidents - such as falling down the stairs, being accidentally "exploded" by Seamus, or accidentally eating George and Fred's prank props.

These are real surprises!

No one would play a prank on Neville.

Sometimes George and Fred couldn't imagine how their prank props ended up in Neville's mouth.

Now, he always goes to the school clinic because of some problems caused by exercise. Of course, the difficult and complicated diseases that are difficult for ordinary people are just a matter of a spell or a bottle of potion for wizards. Neville asks Madam Pomfrey to check him every week, and then asks Harry to make a new exercise plan for himself.

Madam Pomfrey complained more than once that she finally felt like she was actually getting the salary Hogwarts offered her.

However, this high-intensity exercise is also very effective.

Neville didn't lose weight, but gained a lot.

But he doesn't look like a "little fat boy", but rather strong. However, his honest face makes it hard for people to feel that he is threatening.

A simple and honest big bear with no aggressive intentions.

Saturday night.

Harry finished reading the three people's papers and put them aside.

"Good theory." Half an hour later, Harry put it down and looked at Neville, "Hermione, do you and Ron want to join me in the practical training of Neville?"

Actual combat?

This word made all three of them stunned.

Hermione was a little confused: "Don't we always have actual combat?"

"No, no, no, that's not actual combat." Harry shook his head meaningfully and looked at them deeply. "That's just practical training, to put theory into practice. It's very different from real combat."

"Neville must fight in actual combat."

Harry paused and said, "You can wait until you finish watching it, and then think about whether you want to have actual combat training with me."

Hermione and Ron nodded, both of them sensing a different atmosphere.

Neville looked at Harry blankly and he picked up the wooden sword.

"Don't use this little toy." Harry waved his wand, and an iron sword flew out of the hat - it was the birthday gift Neville gave him before, "Use this."

"A real sword?" Neville took it carefully. "Isn't this too dangerous..."

"This is real combat." Harry shook his head and emphasized, "Real combat."

"Neville, no, Mr. Longbottom."

"From now on, the person standing in front of you is not Harry, but your enemy."

"You have to hold on to the belief that you will kill me."

With the belief of killing Potter.

Neville muttered quietly. He felt that this was an idea that only Professor Snape would have.

Harry drew out the sword of Gryffindor, holding his wand in one hand and the sword in the other. He stood at one end of the abandoned classroom and looked at Neville at the other end. "Mr. Longbottom, the first actual battle. Draw your sword. I'll wait for you to be ready."

Neville carefully drew out the sword and held it in his hand, just like Harry, with a wand in one hand and a sword in the other. After a while, he took a deep breath and shouted, "Harry, no, Mr. Potter, I'm ready."

The moment the words fell.

Neville stared at Harry with wide eyes, incredulous.

Changed!

In his own eyes, Harry was still the same Harry, still looking the same, but everything had changed.

My nerves were pounding and my intuition told me that it was dangerous!

Like a peephole that was spinning wildly and making a constant squeaking and buzzing sound, I was howling inside.

"Danger danger danger danger danger!!!"

You will die!

If you don't resist you will really die!

Think about the sword skills you have learned, at this time you should take a defensive stance with the sword.

No, no, no, that's not right. It's chanting a mantra.

Armor protects you!

That's not right. This spell can only defend against some magic, but cannot defend against the impact of physical attacks. Harry is very strong.

Should he faint?

The swordsman was nimble on his feet as he was too dazed to hit Harry.

There are so many obstacles!

Yes, there should be many obstacles!

Neville's expression finally showed some signs of change. He tried hard to move his body, but his limbs could not move at all and were very stiff. He looked into Harry's eyes and was petrified by those snake-like eyes.

Move!

Move your hands quickly and chant the spell...

He was anxious and eager.

Boom! He was kicked hard in the chest and fell down uncontrollably.

A cold light flashed before my eyes.

That was the light of Gryffindor's sword, stabbing towards his head.

Finished!

Dead!

Neville's mind went blank. He heard a whooshing sound in his ear, and the sword grazed his ear and was nailed into the floor tiles.

The tinnitus was buzzing.

After a while, he heard someone questioning him: "What are you thinking about?"

The voice was familiar, it was Harry's voice.

Neville's pupils began to refocus, and he saw clearly that the person who was speaking was Harry, who was still stepping on him.

"I told you, I am your enemy now." Harry drew his sword. "Don't think that only Professor Snape has the belief that he must kill me. You have to have it too. This is a real battle."

He restrained his momentum.

The air in the abandoned classroom began to flow again, and the two onlookers could finally start to breathe.

"Neville?" Ron's voice trembled. "Are you still alive?"

Neville responded weakly: "Of course, I'm still alive."

"I thought you were really going to kill Neville." Hermione took a deep breath. It was the first time she had watched Harry fight at such a close distance.

It’s different from what we usually teach them.

It was also different when training with Professor Flitwick.

For the first time, she felt that the nickname given by George and Fred was so appropriate - "Lion King". Harry was like a real lion, and they were weak, pitiful, and powerless like rabbits, puppies, and groundhogs.

"That's exactly what I was thinking." Harry waved his wand, lifted Neville up, and let him stand against the wall.

A piece of white jelly flew out of the Sorting Hat and landed in his hands.

"I'm hurt?" Neville looked at Harry, hesitant.

"Ear, just a scratch." Harry pointed his wand at the wall next to him and turned it into a mirror, allowing him to see his face clearly.

What an ugly face this is!

His face was red, his eyes were weak, and he was feeling thankful.

What are you celebrating?

Are you glad that you were not killed by Harry, even though you couldn't even resist?

How can you have the nerve to feel lucky?

Longbottom, oh Longbottom!

Neville examined himself for a while before noticing the small wound on his ear. It had been so long since he had applied medicine that the bleeding had stopped and turned into a scab.

"Harry, I'm not so fragile that I need to use difficile on this wound!" Neville clenched his fists, his face flushed red.

"I just want to find an excuse to conjure up a mirror so you can take a good look at yourself." Harry said bluntly, "Do you like yourself in the mirror?"

Neville said nothing.

"Mr. Neville Longbottom in the mirror can't take revenge." Harry tilted his head, stared at the mirror embedded in the wall, and said softly, "Look at that weak face. There is only the anger for revenge, but no firm belief."

"Perhaps, his size and magic level have changed a lot, but he is still the weak little Neville, so pitiful, and he cries every night hugging his pillow..."

"Harry!" Neville raised his fist and smashed the mirror with a clang, interrupting him. The back of his fist was mixed with the broken glass and blood was dripping.

"Are you ready now, Mr. Longbottom?" Harry asked him.

"Of course!" Neville gritted his teeth.

"Well, let's begin!" Harry landed on the ground, and with nimble steps, he ran towards Neville, waving the sword in his hand.

Neville made a blocking stance.

"Swish!" Several sounds of breaking through the air were heard.

Unexpectedly, the broken mirror fragments stretched out and turned into vines that bound his limbs.

Before he could react.

Huff—the long sword brushed his ear again and stabbed into the wall fiercely.

"I should praise you. At least you have faith this time and your body can move." Harry and Neville looked at each other. "But what about your brain?"

"Faith and brain, can you only choose one?"

Neville gritted his teeth: "Come again!"

The third time!

Neville remembered that he was a wizard, but when he got close, he was so focused on parrying with magic that he forgot that he was holding the sword in his other hand, and still couldn't withstand three moves.

"Longbottom, if I were Crouch, you'd have died three times, three times!" Harry waved his wand and shot out fireworks.

The colorful golden and red number three turned into a crown and fell on his head.

"See how high the number above your head can go tonight."

The fourth time!

Harry pierced Neville's thigh with his sword, causing him to let out a wail and fall to the ground in pain, his face pale.

"You're becoming weak again." Harry said calmly, drawing his sword and giving Neville the potion. "This is a real battle, a fight of life and death."

After he finished drinking, Harry smeared difficile on his wounds and cast a healing spell.

"Perhaps, this injury can deepen your understanding."

"Neville, treat me as an enemy."

"Can you continue?"

Neville gritted his teeth, threw the glass bottle out, and smashed it hard: "Of course, Mr. Potter!"

Ron and Hermione stood by, stunned.

They never thought that actual combat would be so cruel.

Neville "died" under Harry's sword again and again, and wounds began to appear on his body to varying degrees. This night was extremely long.