After repairing the spell that had damaged the castle caused by Voldemort, Professors McGonagall and Sprout immediately rushed to the Quidditch field.

They were worried about Neville.

Flitwick wanted to follow, but he was too short and had short legs. Even if he tried his best to keep up with a cat and a person, the two professors had already left him five or six steps behind when he ran down the castle steps. So he simply returned to the castle and went with Dumbledore to check on the other students.

They arrived just as Neville was screaming "Crucio".

The strong wind that had not yet dissipated, carrying with it the frost, brought the spell into their ears.

This startled them and they quickened their pace.

Until you walk into the dilapidated Quidditch pitch.

Neville didn't actually cast the spell. He released what was suppressed in his heart in the most primitive and bloody way.

fist.

Waving his claws like a wild beast.

This made them feel at a loss as to what to do.

Compared to what Neville and the Longbottom family had experienced, Neville's way of revenge and venting could even be described as gentle.

"Neville is a good boy." McGonagall looked away and looked at the mess.

It is hard to imagine what scale of battle had broken out here in just over ten minutes, which would have led to this state.

Sprout nodded in agreement, his voice low: "I'm glad that the knowledge I taught him in the greenhouse can really help."

They watched quietly.

Wenrou watched Neville's almost insane outburst.

until--

With a crack, after being hit by Neville countless times, Crouch's body broke and his lower body fell to the ground.

He died.

There was an expression of indescribable resentment, pain and regret on his face.

Neville was totally unaware of this.

He continued to exert force and repeat himself, relying solely on his physical instincts, swinging his fists and continuing to strike at the air.

His willpower supported him in the duel with Crouch.

Supporting him through the strong wind.

He was supported by his body, which was bleeding profusely and had wounds opening and closing, but the blood had almost stopped flowing.

But this is the limit.

It was difficult for him to make any effective judgments about the outside world.

The two professors soon discovered this.

"Neville, Crouch is dead, he is dead." McGonagall waved her wand, and several pieces of gravel turned into soft sponge ribbons, gently and carefully wrapping around Neville's hand.

His body was still swaying, his shoulders were still tilting, and he was still swinging his fists.

Sprout walked over and frowned slightly: "A lot of nightshade."

"Luckily, he took the antidote in advance, but compared to the amount he inhaled, the antidote didn't have much effect."

She paused, examining it more closely.

"My body is in a bit of a bad state too. All of them are magical wounds. Fortunately, they are not fatal."

With a wave of the wand, a piece of white water flew out of his pocket. It fluttered and worked busily, carefully applying every wound on Neville's body.

He took out another snuff bottle.

After opening it, he placed it under Neville's nose and turned it around twice.

This is a rather rare powder in potions, and is used as medicine by smell.

Rare but effective.

Neville's body stopped swaying and became quiet.

"Pomona, take Neville to find Poppy." Mag conjured up a soft stretcher.

Sprout took a look at the half body hanging on the branch, and the other half lying on the ground, which was flesh except for the legs. He nodded, waved his wand, and used the levitation spell to carefully lift Neville and took him towards the castle.

Mag first cleaned the court, looking for things that Neville had left behind.

His wand, the steel sword, and the seeds that had yet to sprout and be used.

Finally, there was Crouch's body.

She looked disgusted.

Dirty things...

This thing was the most useless and the one that should not be there on the entire Quidditch field. If possible, she would like to burn it to ashes. Such a thing should not exist, but she waved her wand lightly, and a wooden box appeared and she picked up the body.

But in the end, Mag kept it.

This is Neville's spoils of war, and it's his business to decide what to do with it.

A tall and thin adult man was stuffed into the box, and the final size was not even as big as Mag's Animagus form.

Do all this.

Mag raised his head and looked at the mess on the ground with complicated expression.

The Quidditch pitch was finished and needed to be renovated. The castle also needed it. Although the broken spells had been repaired, the walls still needed to be repaired, which were all made of magical materials.

That's terrible.

The finances, which were once relatively healthy, are now stretched to the limit.

In Hogwarts.

The atmosphere was relatively peaceful—even though the castle had exploded.

But the explosion occurred in the abandoned classroom area on the fourth floor. The classroom where classes were held was some distance away and no students were injured.

Moreover, after going through the trials and tribulations of the previous few years, this group of class leaders are very mature.

After the professor left, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw prefects immediately organized the students to evacuate in an orderly manner and return to the common room.

The Hufflepuff and Gryffindor prefects were in the greenhouse outside the castle.

The speed should be slower.

However, the little badgers have always been very well-behaved. Even when they are scared, they always gather together and stay quietly in the classroom.

The little lions were very brave. Not only were they not afraid, they were even very curious about what was happening outside the castle.

In the school clinic.

Sprout sent Neville over and confirmed with Madam Pomfrey that he was fine. Then he hurried to the common room. She had to check on the students in her own house.

Except for Slytherin.

They received no love from the dean.

The little snakes had no objection. They were noble and mature Slytherins. They would not be like the little wizards from other colleges who were aggrieved and needed to be coaxed by their dean to feel better.

Mag took a look at Neville, checked on the little lions, and headed straight to the principal's office.

In addition to being the Headmistress of Gryffindor, she is the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.

Say the command and open the door.

The room was completely empty.

McGonagall was stunned and turned to look at the portrait on the wall: "Where is Principal Dumbledore?"

Godric answered him, "He's out."

Mag frowned.

Why is he still going out at this critical moment? Is he tracking down the mysterious man?

"There was a goblin rebellion, at least a hundred of them," Godric explained. "There was a riot at Gringotts, and Dumbledore went to help the Ministry of Magic."

Mag opened her mouth in surprise, her eyes full of disbelief.

The goblins are rebelling again?

This time the number is still so huge.

She sighed and walked towards her office. She could understand Dumbledore very well. If he didn't step in, it would be difficult for the Ministry of Magic to resolve this matter.

I'd better prepare a quote for how much money Hogwarts will need next.

I really hope those directors will pay the money without hesitation.

otherwise……

I can only let Harry go.

Just when Hogwarts and the wizarding world were turned upside down.

In another world.

Imlerith listened to the report of the two scouts.

They described it in great detail, the same information as reported by the Weaver Lady, three people, two women and one man, a witcher and a warlock.

But he accidentally set off the witcher's trap and had to leave as soon as possible.

No further information was obtained.

His eyes flickered.

This is similar to what Lord Eredin told me.

The demon hunter was a cautious and difficult opponent, but not very powerful.

Imlerith stood up and looked around him. Including the two scouts, there were two navigators, fourteen knights, and himself, a total of seventeen people.

Although he was able to deal with the three old witches and even killed two of them, he had to admit that they did have some abilities.

but……

Seventeen against three.

I don't know how I could lose.

Imlerith stood up, holding a map of Mudback Swamp in his hand and studying it carefully.

"Prepare for a night attack." He thought about it and gave the order.

Although he didn't really want to, and didn't think that he needed to be so cautious with just three people, he had to be concerned about Lord Eredin's orders.

Night falls.

In the mud-back swamp.

Harry and the others had dinner.

"This elbow is great." Ciri touched her belly contentedly, "And these meatballs."

Hermione waved her wand and brewed some tea.

"I'm glad you like it," she said softly. "Harry rarely comments on food, and I rarely get to use food spells at school. I'm always worried about whether I'll do it wrong."

Ciri paused for a moment, picked up the pudding, and ate the last few bites: "Hermione, you don't have to worry about this."

"Is there any more pudding? I want more..."

Harry suddenly said: "Ciri, I don't recommend you eat too much."

Hermione turned her head, looking puzzled.

There was still a lot of food in his pocket, and Ciri could travel through the world at any time. Even if there was nothing, he could just go back and buy more. Harry had never been a stingy person, so how could he suddenly say something like that.

Ciri held the plate, feeling a little reluctant.

"The Wild Hunt scouts came last night," Harry explained simply, "and we gave them the wrong message."

"Nothing happened during the day today."

"Maybe they will launch a surprise attack tonight."

"Eating too much is not conducive to performance."

Ciri struggled internally, sighed, and put the plate down: "Okay, but there will be another chance later."

The food was tempting, but in the end she just drank two more cups of black tea and didn't even take a bite of the dessert.

After eating, I washed up and went to bed.

In the room, even the fireplace was extinguished, and it was pitch black.

Wait until the moon climbs to the center of the night sky.

Two portals opened.

Two pairs of Wild Hunt Knights came out, followed by a swift and violent snowstorm. Ice formed on the swamp and the temperature dropped sharply.

Imlerith was the last to emerge from the portal, on horseback.

In the room.

Harry, who was sleeping soundly, suddenly woke up. He was keenly aware of the change in temperature - the purpose of extinguishing the fireplace was to enable him to better perceive the temperature change.

He woke Hermione and Ciri up.

Then he grabbed the two men's wrists and Disapparated.

More than a minute later.

Clang——

A huge ice ball smashed into the wall of the house.