Clang!
A crisp, metallic ringing sound echoed throughout the Great Hall. Under the intensely attentive eyes of everyone present, Neville leaped nimbly into the air with a fierce, determined expression completely unlike his former self and drew a gleaming sword from the scabbard at his waist.
It was a sword without excessive ornamentation or jewel, but its blade shimmered with a cold light. The sharp edge trapped and reflected the afternoon sunlight coming through the tall windows, radiating a sacred, moon-bright glow that made people squint!
In that breathless moment, time seemed to stretch slowing.
Almost every young wizard in the hall wore an identical expression of utter disbelief the instant Neville drew his sword. The students stared at him with wide eyes and dropped jaws, most of them even thought that Neville had completely lost his mind!
Before this school year began, if students had been asked to choose the most weak and helpless, the most incompetent and pitiful student from Gryffindor House, Neville Longbottom would undoubtedly have won by a landslide—perhaps even would nominate himself for the 'honor' out of habit.
However, since the beginning of this term or more precisely, during the period when Hermione Granger was hospitalized recovering after being attacked, Neville had changed intensely after returning from that trip outside the school with Professor Dumbledore.
The Neville who returned to Hogwarts had stunned absolutely everyone who knew him.
People could no longer see any trace of his former timid, apologetic self. The former laughingstock of Gryffindor, the boy who'd always been mocked and pitied had somehow been completely transformed. He'd become confident, optimistic, even bold. It was like watching a different person inhabit Neville's body.
Of course, those close to him, his friends, his housemates knew the reason for such a personality change, though they didn't speak of it openly.
If it had been the old Neville, the nervous, fumbling boy from first year, Harry would never have felt confident about Professor Watson sending him into combat against a Ministry official, even though Neville had shown remarkable performance in certain training exercises during Physical Education class.
But after his personality transformation—after taking on some of the characteristics of Fred and George, Neville had achieved outstanding, even exceptional levels in all areas of PE training. His improvement had been spectacular. Therefore, when Professor Watson called upon Neville's name, Harry hadn't questioned the choice at all.
However, when Neville drew a silver sword, the kind typically equipped on the castle's ancient suits of armor in full view of everyone, hundreds of witnesses, Harry's composure and confidence crumbled completely.
'Has Neville gone completely mad?!'
Harry stared at Neville, who had leaped into midair with a calm expression, and his mind raced frantically trying to understand.
This was a golden opportunity to defend Hogwarts' honor, to uphold Gryffindor's glory, and to strike a blow at the Ministry of Magic's prestige! How could Neville suddenly start acting foolish again, reverting to his old incompetence? A sword?! Against a wand?!
Draco Malfoy also stared in astonishment at Neville Longbottom from his position at the Slytherin table.
However, compared to Harry's panic, he didn't think Longbottom was being foolish at all. Draco knew something others didn't.
He still remembered vividly those first few days after Hermione Granger had been chosen as Triwizard champion, when under his tacit approval and subtle encouragement, Pansy had pulled some pranks on the Mudblood champion.
This had provoked an unexpectedly intense reaction from Longbottom during their PE class together.
At that time, the fellow had drawn one of the swords from the suits of armor standing in the PE classroom and pointed it at him with threat.
It had seemed like a ridiculous act at the time—bringing a sword to a wand fight. But Draco clearly remembered feeling something extraordinarily sharp and genuinely dangerous in the smooth movement when Neville had drawn the sword and leveled it at him!
Draco's gray eyes shifted sideways toward Professor Watson in the upper part of the hall, seeing only a calm, completely unsurprised face.
Professor Watson should have also known about Neville drawing his sword during that PE class confrontation, So... had Longbottom actually switched combat paths under Professor Watson's suggestion? Was he training him in swordsmanship?
The Hogwarts faculty standing near the stage were equally astonished by this development, and began murmuring to each other.
Perhaps only Dumbledore had a deeper understanding of what was happening, what this meant.
In Dumbledore's blue eyes, there was not only surprise at Neville drawing a physical sword in a magical duel, but also something unusually sharp and knowing like recognition.
Godric Gryffindor's legendary sword hung in his office above the headmaster's desk—a magical weapon he knew closely and familiarly. Yet at this precise moment, he sensed the exact same aura, the same resonance of ancient magic from the sword in Neville's hand as from Gryffindor's own blade!
'Movement.'
Having reached the apex of his leap, hanging in the air for one frozen moment, Neville began to bring down the sword he held high above his head. The blade was wrapped in dazzling white light that grew brighter by the second.
Umbridge, caught completely off guard by the overwhelming and aggressively coordinated assault from the three young Hogwarts wizards, turned back in alarm toward the unexpected sound.
The silver sword blazing with pure white light in Neville's raised hands caused a moment of confusion in Umbridge's bulging eyes—she had thought she was about to be ambushed with magic and had panicked accordingly. But upon actually seeing and realizing what was happening, understanding that a student was attacking her with a sword of all things, her expression twisted into a savage, delighted smile.
This brat had pulled out a sword? A medieval weapon?
He was actually planning to strike her with a sword in a magical duel?!
This was too amusing, too absurd!
Umbridge almost laughed aloud with genuine amusement, and this lighthearted, dismissive mood even made her perform beyond her usual level, sharpening her focus.
Though it was already too late to post a proper counterattack or dodge, she bared her teeth in a feral grin. The tip of her hastily raised defensive wand bloomed with deep blue light!
Time returned to its normal flow, the moment of suspension was ending.
Neville suddenly let out a fierce shout that echoed through the hall. Having trained privately for so long with this weapon, having practiced daily for months, he had adapted completely to the goblin-silver blade's natural rate of magical absorption. Now he released his careful control over his own magic, allowing it to pour endlessly, unrestricted into the silver sword through the pommel!
Empowered by his magical reserves, the silver sword in Neville's hand became completely engulfed in clear, dazzling light. It was as if he held a bright moon itself in his hands, blazing with power!
BOOM!
The brilliance of the collision between Neville's silver light and Umbridge's blue defensive magic was indescribable, almost blinding.
Umbridge's savage, confident expression froze completely at the instant she met the strike. Her eyes, wrapped in swollen bags of flesh, revealed sudden terror and disbelief.
In that thousandth of a second, she could physically feel an absolutely irresistible, overwhelmingly mighty force crushing her defensive magic like paper. The raw power was shocking.
Moreover, after effortlessly shattering her protective spell, that tremendous force remained abundant, undiminished. She could feel it surging directly into her wand through the broken shield. Her wand transmitted pain and anguish to her hand, burning hot.
Crack!
Watching helplessly, unable to prevent it, as her wand shattered inch by inch under the devastating impact of that silvery-white brightness, Umbridge had no time to cry out in anguish before the powerful blast wave from the explosion sent her flying.
She tumbled uncontrollably through the air toward a massive stone pillar at the side of the hall.
Dumbledore suddenly raised a single finger casually, and Umbridge's body, plunging aggressively toward the pillar at dangerous speed, abruptly suspended in midair.
Fear and indescribable humiliation gnawed at her heart like venomous serpents. Umbridge glared with hatred at Watson and Dumbledore at the front of the hall as her face twisted. Then she deliberately rolled her eyes back and forced herself into unconsciousness to avoid further embarrassment.
The gathered young wizards watched in dumbfounded silence as Umbridge slowly fell to the ground under Dumbledore's control, and lied motionless on the cold stone floor like a discarded pink cushion.
The seemingly eternal silence was suddenly shattered explosively. Every young wizard erupted simultaneously in cheers and roars of triumph. Even the faculty were applauding enthusiastically and celebrating for the three brave young wizards.
"That was absolutely a spectacular duel! Magnificent!"
Professor Flitwick jumped excitedly onto the stage, raising his small hands high and cheering in his shrill voice.
"Oh, magnificent! Such perfect coordination—even in my youth I would have found it difficult to handle such teamwork. Oh, well done, Luna! And you too, Hermione! Neville!"
"He shouldn't have interfered! Dumbledore shouldn't have caught her!"
Harry shouted over the noise, his voice coming hoarse.
"Should've let her hit that pillar, let her spend a few months at St. Mungo's recovering... Oh, but that sword strike was absolutely beautiful! Incredible! I see you in a completely new light, Neville!"
Yelling enthusiastically, Harry even showed Fred and George the watch on his wrist triumphantly.
"Less than ten seconds! See that? Look at the time! I knew it all along!"
But Fred and George paid absolutely no attention to Harry's gloating or his winnings. Along with apparently every other young wizard in the hall, they rushed eagerly onto the stage to embrace Neville, Hermione, and Luna in celebration!
"Absolutely magnificent! Wonderful!"
Professor McGonagall said happily, her stern face was now transformed. She wiped the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief, overcome with emotion.
"Mr. Longbottom, that final sword strike... very powerful, very impressive. I'd say it had the style of Godric Gryffindor himself. I want to—oh, would it be improper to award house points right now for this?"
At least two hundred excited young wizards surged onto the stage in a chaotic mass. They surrounded Neville, Hermione, and Luna, cheering loudly and heaping extravagant praise upon them.
Such a grand scene of celebration was truly rare at Hogwarts.
"Did you see that, Professor Watson!"
Surrounded by the enthusiastic crowd, Neville raised Gryffindor's sword high above his head. He stood on his toes, looking over the sea of bobbing heads toward the smiling man still standing calmly at the faculty table and shouted with joy,
"I can control it, Professor! The magic flow—I can control it now!"
But the young wizards surrounding Neville, caught up in their celebration, couldn't hear what he was shouting at all over their own noise. They happily lifted Neville up bodily and tossed him repeatedly into the air, chanting his name.
"So then—"
Dumbledore turned away from the celebration to look at Bryan with curiosity and asked quietly, just between them,
"The sword in Mr. Longbottom's hands came from you, Bryan? Where did you acquire such a weapon?"
"Oh, spoils from exploring ancient ruins in my earlier years, back when I traveled. Having it in my possession was a complete waste—I have no talent for swordplay. And I accidentally discovered that Mr. Longbottom seemed to have natural talent in this particular area, so I encouraged him to try walking the path of Godric Gryffindor..."
Bryan smiled without changing expression, speaking evasively and vague.
Dumbledore sighed secretly, reading between the lines, and asked no more probing questions. He looked toward Madam Pomfrey instead.
"Poppy, could I trouble you to examine Umbridge? Although this was clearly an accident, a training exercise gone slightly awry, Hogwarts cannot simply ignore her injuries."
Though very reluctant to treat the woman, Madam Pomfrey still followed the instruction professionally.
Watching as Umbridge was lifted unceremoniously onto a stretcher by Filch, Lucius Malfoy's gray gaze held no mercy or sympathy whatsoever. Only cold satisfaction.
Under the calm observation of Bryan and Dumbledore, both of whom tracked his movement, Lucius approached the two of them.
"The Board of Governors will not let what happened today go unpunished. Mark my words carefully—Hogwarts will pay a heavy price for today's arrogance and this assault on a Ministry official."
"I expect so—"
Bryan smiled coldly, his purple eyes were glinting.
"I've been looking forward to it for quite some time, Lucius."
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