The white frost rushed towards the castle with great momentum.

Professor Flitwick, who had just walked out, met them and raised his wand.

His first reaction was the same as Dumbledore's.

Since there is frost and snow, use fire to fight it.

The flames are blazing!

A huge flame spurted out from his wand, and a giant flaming python hit the white frost.

In the blink of an eye…

The flame was swallowed by the white frost, and its size even grew a little bigger.

Yennefer followed closely behind.

She held the crystal raven head in her hand, a spellcasting tool. Just as most wizards needed a wand to cast spells, most warlocks also needed to carry a spellcasting tool with them.

A milky white translucent barrier extended from her hand.

The hoarfrost crashed and hit the barrier.

Yennefer's body swayed, and she was struggling.

"The fire spell has no effect on it." Flitwick frowned, feeling that his lifelong cognition had been ruthlessly shattered. "It was even absorbed by it."

Yennefer gritted her teeth: "White frost is not real frost and snow."

"It can absorb energy!"

Geralt opened his own packet of Traceless Extension Charm and took out a weapon.

It is a well-maintained sniper rifle - Barrett M82.

As a demon hunter, you must not only be good at close range, but also have certain long-range capabilities.

Usually, demon hunters rely on crossbows and alchemical bombs to make up for their shortcomings in this area.

Harry had never used a crossbow.

Because he now has the ability to cast spells, his long-range means of defeating the enemy are relatively no worse than his close combat skills.

Geralt is different from Harry.

He is neither a sorcerer nor does he know magic.

At first, he planned to get a crossbow like he did before.

When he made this request to Sirius, Sirius looked at him for a long time with a strange look, then dragged him to his room, turned on the game console, and explained to him what guns were.

Geralt is a studious man.

From Sirius' introduction, he learned what a pistol was, what a rifle was, and how a semi-automatic one worked.

Sirius was willing to spend money.

The day after Geralt expressed his liking, he immediately purchased a batch of hot weapons. They included all the ones Geralt knew about, even two RPGs.

Geralt knelt skillfully, picked up the gun, raised the muzzle, and loaded the bullet.

The Demon Hunter gave him excellent dynamic vision and a wider field of view.

The coach who trained him and Sirius said that Geralt was a natural expert in firearms, and that he was clean and decisive in his actions. The coach even told Geralt that he should become a mercenary, as he would never be able to make a name for himself like "White Wolf".

Aim with your crosshairs.

Pull the trigger.

With a huge sonic boom, the bullet flew out, and a raging tongue of fire spewed out from the muzzle.

Penetrating through the misty and dim white fog.

Towards Voldemort.

With incredible precision, it smashed Voldemort's head and blew it up all over the sky.

Its body still floats in the air, unmoved.

"Is he dead?" Professor McGonagall raised her head and looked at the fallen head with some surprise and disbelief.

Not flesh and blood, not bones.

It's scattered snow.

As if answering Mag's words.

huff——

The scattered snow rolled back, gathered together again, and condensed into a head, hanging on the body intact.

Voldemort waved his hand.

The white frost in front of the castle hit violently again, shattering the barrier condensed by Yennefer and crashing into the castle wall, creating a gap.

Dumbledore raised his hand and grasped Fawkes' foot.

A roll of flame.

He appeared under the castle, waved his wand, cast the vanishing spell, and the white frost disappeared.

But just this gap is enough.

The frost spread in, shattering the magic that was closing over Crouch's classroom.

The man in the room woke up almost immediately.

He looked out along the gap, but his eyesight was not very good and everything was white and blurry, so he couldn't see anything.

"Father." But he whispered, tears rolling down his eyes.

Neville came running over, panting.

The walls and door frames were blown away, and the man was exposed to his sight without any cover.

"Crouch!" Even though he was so thin that he looked like a human, even though he was covered in dirt, even though he only took a glance at him, Neville still recognized him immediately and confirmed his identity immediately.

Crouch turned his head and looked over: "Longbottom."

Neville walked closer to him.

"My father came to save me." Crouch was not panicked at all. He supported himself on the ground and got up. "Goodbye, Longbottom."

Outside the castle.

Voldemort waved his wand: "Crouch fly."

In the castle.

Crouch's body was out of control and he was flying out of the castle.

Neville was quick-witted and pounced on him, grabbed his legs, and was carried away with him.

On the Black Lake.

Crouch and Neville landed.

"Father, my most respected father." Crouch looked pious and said excitedly, "You are back again."

"I am stronger this time." Voldemort nodded, his eyes gentle, looking at Crouch, then raised his chin and looked at Neville, "There is also a small gift."

"Then give Potter a big gift before you leave."

He raised his hand and pointed at Neville.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light was wrapped in the white light, as hot as fireworks, shooting towards Neville.

He stood up and rolled, waving his wand.

In the distance the ice surface stretched and bulged.

The seeds in his hand grew instantly, entangled the ice, and pulled him forward.

A precise combination of Transfiguration spells, Charms, and Herbology.

He barely escaped this fatal curse.

The green light exploded, crushing the flocks of flying birds summoned by Mag and the biting cabbages summoned by Sprott into powder.

Voldemort's face darkened.

A sixth grade little wizard!

He was able to escape his own killing curse, even though it was just a killing curse and not coordinated with other spells.

Dumbledore arrived with Yennefer and Flitwick.

Bang—another sound exploded.

Geralt provides ranged support.

The bullet flew over and hit the armor spell that Voldemort had released at some point, causing only a faint ripple in the air.

Neville stood up and called out to Fox, "Fox, help me."

Fox was startled and turned his head away.

Dumbledore nodded.

It flapped its wings and flew over.

At the same time, Neville waved his wand and another seed fell, taking root in the ice and rolling up Crouch.

Voldemort plucked off a finger and threw it over.

Crouch caught it.

Just then, Neville grabbed Crouch's hand and Fawkes landed on his shoulder.

"Quidditch pitch!" Neville growled.

A roll of flame.

Fawkes disappeared with Neville and Crouch.

On the other side of the castle, two people landed on the empty Quidditch field.

"Crouch, it's just you and me now." Neville took a deep breath, gripped his wand tightly, and took out a long sword from his pocket.

Crouch held Voldemort's index finger in his hand.

He could feel the magical power contained in this finger, which was exactly the same as the magic wand. He grinned: "Yes, we are the only ones left."