Neville gripped his sword tightly, sweat dripping down his robes, and stared at Harry with a firm and heavy gaze.

This was his seventeenth "death".

"That's it." Harry sheathed his sword.

Neville shook his head, gritted his teeth, and forced himself to spit out the words from the gap in his throat: "I can still do it, I can still do it!"

"You've made the same mistake three times." Harry raised his finger. "Do you have enough brains?"

Neville looked a little confused.

Harry went on quietly, "I have been killing you the same way since three times ago."

"Spell rush."

"Sword harassment."

"For the last Killing Curse, of course, I used an Obstruction Curse instead, only changing the color and magical properties."

At this point, he paused for a moment and looked at Neville: "Do you remember how you dealt with these three times?"

Neville turned slightly pale.

He remembered.

His response methods for these three times were similar. He fought with Harry in spells and swordsmanship, and then was knocked over and fell to the ground. He could not dodge and could only take the most deadly curse.

"There is no quality, Neville." Harry shook his head. "You are in your current state and no matter how many times you come here, it won't help you grow. Rest well and use your brain well."

Neville took a deep breath, nodded, sheathed the sword, and was about to hand it to Harry.

"I don't like your birthday present." Harry raised his hand and pushed it back.

Neville was startled.

Harry's tone was calm, just like the snowy night outside the window: "A sword that has not been stained with blood is not a qualified sword."

Neville grasped the scabbard tightly, put it behind his back, and nodded heavily.

Harry looked at the two spectators: "Are you coming?"

Ron shrank his neck, looked at Neville's robe stained with a thick layer of blood, and was about to refuse.

Hermione had already agreed: "Of course."

She didn't back down.

Harry looked at her and didn't refuse.

There would be no cowards in Gryffindor. Even if Ron wanted to retreat, he was not afraid, but just felt that there was no need to do so.

Harry drew his sword again.

"Harry, you said it was a real fight." Hermione stared at the sword in Harry's hand with a dissatisfied tone.

Harry put the wooden sword back and drew the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked her.

Hermione took a deep breath and raised her wand.

"I'll begin then," Harry informed him, waving his wand.

Surrounded by clouds and mist!

A milky white fog came, swallowing up the only source of light in the room. The vision provided by an oil lamp was limited, and with the fog, the vision became even worse.

There is light, but I can't see anything clearly.

Hermione took a deep breath and held her wand to her chest.

I have seen this scene myself and it is still fresh in my memory.

Harry had used it in his duel with Snape in second year.

How did Professor Snape deal with it at that time?

In short, don’t hand over the “Zhu Li Ting” rashly.

"Expecto Patronus."

She whispered a spell, and a silver-white lioness emerged from the wand and landed quietly on the ground. The magical creature was much more sensitive to magic than the wizard. It narrowed its eyes, growled in one direction, and its hair stood on end.

A huge threat.

The flames are blazing!

She waved her wand, and flames rolled and surged, engulfing the mist, and also engulfing the "threat" in that direction.

"You're wrong." Harry suddenly appeared from the other side, and with him came several transformed creatures, reaching out towards Hermione.

"No." Hermione spread out her other hand.

Two whooshes——

Weasley's fireworks jumped out and exploded in front of him, like a hedgehog. The hot sparks hit Harry and ignited the branches and vines.

Neville was surprised.

Is it still possible... like this?

Compared with Hermione's, his own tactics seemed too rigid.

"Don't compare yourself to her." Ron leaned over and said, "Hermione is most attentive to Professor Potter's dueling class. She has written so many papers that she can build a cat bed for Crookshanks. She has written papers on almost every spell."

"Then I'll borrow it for reference." Neville was stunned and clenched his fists.

Not only are their abilities inferior, but their level of effort is also inferior.

I thought I was working very hard.

Ron rummaged through his bag: "I have it. I copied it."

The battle in the classroom continues.

Hermione's idea was good, but the effect was average. Sparks flew onto the robe, burning it, but the sparks remained attached to the leather armor. The weak magic power could not burn through the basilisk's leather armor.

As for the deformed creations.

Maybe a year ago, Harry would have had a headache, but not now.

To complete the transformation brought about by the Animagus, just wave the wand lightly, and the wooden vines will shake and turn into iron.

In the blink of an eye, Hermione was tied up.

Neville murmured, "It's over."

This was what happened when he duelled with Harry. If he wasn't careful, whether he was hit by a Transfiguration spell or a spell that restricted his movement and spellcasting ability, it would mean death.

Ron and Neville had similar views.

But Hermione, who was tied up, didn't think so.

"Thunder explosion!"

She uttered the spell resolutely.

Boom—there was a loud explosion and the spell was not aimed at Harry, but at itself.

She controlled her magic power exquisitely, just enough to blast the iron shackles apart without causing herself too many signs of injury.

"Fainted!"

At this moment.

A red light shot out from the smoke.

Harry had a blank expression on his face. The spell hit the Quin Seal, and golden light rippled. He waved his wand lightly, and a bottle of potion that was about to fall at his feet stopped in mid-air and flew in front of his chest.

With his other hand, he swung the sword and stopped abruptly in front of Hermione's neck.

"It's over now."

Neville watched this scene in shock.

Harry quickly put down his sword, pulled Hermione out of the smoke, and treated her injuries - they were not serious, only the part of her arm that was blown apart had some slight burns. He applied some difficile and took a bottle of healing potion.

"Hermione." Harry drawled out, somewhat helplessly.

"The gap in strength is too big. I have no choice." Hermione gasped, "I can only resist like this."

"This will make you look very Gryffindor." Harry showed no mercy and applied the dimethicone carefully to every spot.

Hermione retorted: "I'm a Gryffindor."

Harry patted her head gently: "Have a good rest, I have to think about how to give you a practical lesson."

Hermione conjured a chair for herself and sat down.

Harry called to the last person: "Ron."

He didn't ask Ron if he was willing.

At this point, Ron had no other choice. He couldn't have the other two agree to fight but he was the only one who refused...

Hermione sat down.

Neville looked around, took a few deep breaths, and looked at Hermione: "Hermione, why did you do that in the end?"

"Why?" Hermione was stunned. "There is no reason."

"If you have to find a reason, didn't Harry say that he should be treated as an enemy?"

"Since we are facing an enemy, we will naturally use all means at our disposal. Being caught will be the time when the enemy is most relaxed. At this time, I will pay the price of getting a little hurt. If I seize this opportunity, I may be able to eliminate the enemy."

She sighed, a little disappointed: "But Harry is obviously not someone who will let his guard down."

Neville stared at Hermione.

He thought he could at least surpass Hermione in belief, but now it seems that he can't even surpass her in this regard.

"Aren't you afraid?" he asked subconsciously.

Hermione looked at him in confusion: "What are you afraid of?"

Neville hesitated. He didn't know what he was afraid of. He just subconsciously had this state and this feeling.

"You are not afraid of getting hurt." Hermione analyzed for him, "Harry is a little ruthless, but your current situation does require a severe spur."

"Are you afraid that Harry will get hurt? Or that you might actually kill Harry by accident?"

"Don't worry, we can't do that yet."

"You dueled with Harry for so long and you didn't even break Quinn."

Neville's expression didn't change.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully: "You are not afraid of this, so what are you afraid of?"

"Are you worried about the enemies you might encounter in the future?"

"Barty Crouch Jr?"

Neville shuddered subconsciously, he could not remember what happened that night - his grandmother and uncle had cast an amnesia spell on him, taking away his memory, but the stupid and foolish appearance of his parents had always been deeply imprinted in his mind.

He reached into his pocket and clenched the candy wrapper.

"You're afraid of him." Hermione confirmed her thoughts, "So you're not firm enough."

Neville shook his head and exhaled, "I'm not afraid of him!"

Ron was beaten badly.

Although he attended classes for the same length of time as Hermione, he was not as thorough in theoretical matters as Hermione, and after exhausting all his efforts, he could only barely prolong his life by a few more seconds.

"Harry." Neville stood up and drew his sword. "I'm ready."

Harry grabbed Ron, holding him by the waist like Hagrid grabbed Fang, and looked back: "Are you really ready?"

Neville nodded.

Harry threw Ron aside.

Neville threw out several herb seeds through the blind spot of his vision, and they grew out of thin air. They were devil vines, and he controlled them to sweep towards Harry.

It came suddenly, without any greeting.

Harry nodded with relief: "That's how it should be. We are enemies."

Before a life-and-death fight, one must salute respectfully, say hello, and give polite reminders.

The struggle between life and death is a fight that requires the abandonment of all dignity.

Use a magic wand, a sword, your fists, your teeth, and everything you can to kill the enemy and let the flames of revenge burn it to ashes.

Neville was no longer afraid.

And then…he was beaten even worse.

In the end, Harry had to carry him out of the abandoned classroom.

"Is it over?" Filch had been waiting outside the classroom and greeted Harry cheerfully, "Professor Black was attracted here, and I had a hard time persuading him to leave."

Mrs. Norris was not at home. Filch was very worried about the pet incident some time ago, so he handed Mrs. Norris over to Crookshanks and let her stay in the girls' dormitory with the ginger kitten, staying with Hermione and Harry, so that he could feel at ease.

"Thank you." Harry and the others greeted him, hurried upstairs and went straight to the school infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey also had trouble getting any rest late into the night.