"Are you ready, Neville?"
As night fell over Hogwarts castle, casting shadows across the grounds, a private duel was taking place in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, where warm breezes drifted through the open windows and rustled the curtains.
All the four-poster beds with their deep red hangings, wooden desks, sturdy chairs, and benches in the circular dormitory had been pushed against the stone walls, clearing out a large open space in the center of the room. The furniture created an impromptu arena, with the pushed-together pieces forming a rough circle.
Seamus, Dean, and Ron all stood unsteadily on their respective desks pressed against the wall, watching Neville and Harry in the middle of the room with great interest and anticipation. They'd become regular spectators to these evening sessions, and the excitement never seemed to diminish.
Harry and Neville stood roughly twenty feet apart in the cleared space, one holding a wand loosely at his side, the other gripping a gleaming silver sword in both hands. They faced each other with solemn, focused expressions.
Strictly speaking, this couldn't really be called a formal duel—it was more accurate to call it controlled practice or training.
Physical Education class students were not allowed to duel with wands privately against each other for sport or competition. This was an iron-clad rule set firmly by Professor Watson from the very beginning.
However, Neville, who had won such a beautiful, public victory for Hogwarts against Umbridge—becoming something of a school hero overnight had managed to secure a small privilege from Professor Watson through persistent, respectful pleading.
He had begged Professor Watson earnestly to allow someone to practice with him regularly so he could quickly master his 'special wand'.
After careful consideration, Bryan had agreed to Neville's request.
However, he had also set strict rules for Neville to ensure safety: during practice sessions, both parties could only choose either an offensive or defensive stance at any given moment, never attacking each other simultaneously. This way, it was much easier to manage risks and prevent serious injuries.
One person attacked while the other defended, then they switched roles.
As for the practice partner, Bryan had also fixed the choice for Neville—it would be Harry and only Harry.
The reason for this specific decision was simple. Harry and Neville were both Physical Education class students who had trained together for over a year, they lived in the same dormitory tower and shared the same room, their relationship was very good, and they would mind their boundaries carefully, wouldn't get red-faced and thick-necked over small accidents or competitive moments that got out of hand.
Another purpose of fixing Neville's practice partner was to prevent Neville from using practice as a convenient pretext to 'cause trouble' all over the castle, challenging various students and potentially creating dangerous situations.
And so, Neville and Harry's regular sparring sessions had become almost a 'must-see performance' for Gryffindor students after nightfall, a source of evening entertainment.
Before the designated rest time each evening when students were supposed to be in bed, the young Gryffindor wizards would always make an enthusiastic ruckus in the common room, asking Neville and Harry persistently to put on a demonstration show for them.
The energetic pair were themselves completely addicted to this kind of competitive practice.
Therefore, in the week since Neville had first demonstrated his 'new combat method' in the Great Hall against Umbridge, even when they returned to their dormitory at night, they would engage in a light workout session before sleep.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Neville took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, the air was leaving his lungs in a controlled stream. He lowered his body slightly into a proper combat stance, bending his knees. His sharp gaze locked steadily onto Harry's eyes first, then his shoulders, his wrists, and other key parts of his body that would transmit movement.
"Come on, Harry, I'm ready! Give me your best!"
Neville held his silver sword firmly with both hands. His eyes blazed with competitive intensity and restrained eagerness.
Hearing this confirmation, Harry's lips curved up into a slight, knowing smile. His eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief, practically glowing in the dim light.
This wasn't a formal duel with all its ceremonies and protocols, so there weren't many preliminary feints or extended tests of spirit and intimidation.
Whoosh!
The instant Neville's words landed, Harry's half-raised arm suddenly thrust forward with explosive speed. With a gentle flick of his wrist, a bright red light as thick as a child's wrist shot out in a flash, streaking through the air. The resulting magical gust of wind sent the curtains of the four-poster beds fluttering loudly, snapping like flags!
Feeling the raw power blistering from this Disarming Charm, sensing its intensity, Dean and Seamus both gasped in appreciation and surprise. Even Ron, who had been training alongside them turned slightly pale watching the spell. He honestly wasn't even sure if his own Shield Charm could successfully block this powerful spell from Harry.
However, Neville was different, more confident.
Although Harry's attack was fierce and swift, faster than most students could manage, Neville still caught Harry's preparatory movement with his eye. He knew what was coming—Harry's signature specialty, the Disarming Charm that he'd perfected.
Swish!
Neville's waist powered the movement smoothly, his core muscles engaging. His blade traced a perfect arc of bright silver light through the dim air, moving with precision and striking Harry's incoming Disarming Charm at exactly the right angle and moment.
Bang—
After a slight explosive sound that made ears pop, the red light of the Disarming Charm shattered in the air into countless beautiful red sparks that poured down like magical fireworks.
Clean and beautiful! Perfectly executed!
Everyone watching in the dormitory, including Harry who had cast the spell with full power, felt this same admiration in their hearts. Neville's form had been flawless.
However, Harry didn't give up or pause. That Neville could block this particular spell was entirely expected. The moment the Disarming Charm was destroyed into sparks, Harry flicked his wrist again with a motion.
The clear breeze raised by his surging magic ruffled his messy black hair, making his face look even more spirited and radiant under the moonlight!
Whoosh, whoosh!
This time, two separate red lights left Harry's wand tip in rapid sequence, and moreover, the spell lights were wrapped menacingly with fierce electrical arcs that crackled and sparked.
Neville's heart grew solemn at the sight, his expression becoming more serious and focused.
During these days of intensive practice, he had been hit directly by Harry's unique, modified Disarming Charm several times before, learning its effects the hard way.
The sensation was very unpleasant, to put it mildly. Once struck by the enhanced spell, not only would he be disarmed and lose his sword, but his whole body would fall into an electric shock-like numbness, with his muscles seizing and spasming. It required a good while to recover normal function.
It could be said that once hit, he would completely lose his ability to resist or continue fighting.
Two bright spell lights left Harry's wand tip in quick series, but were still clearly under Harry's control. One rushed directly at Neville's face with a slightly wavering, unpredictable trajectory designed to confuse, while the other traced a wide semicircle through the air, circling around smoothly to attack Neville's exposed side from an unexpected angle.
Facing Harry's sharp, coordinated offensive, this time Neville didn't choose to wait passively in place. He quickly stepped forward with aggressive confidence, destroying the oncoming red light aimed at his face with a powerful chopping sword motion that bisected the spell.
Then, without any pause or hesitation, he smoothly turned around in a spin, raising his sword up in a rising arc to eliminate the second flanking attack.
Neville's response was very impressive. Ron, Dean, and Seamus all thought with certainty that Harry's round of attacks was destined to fail, that Neville had countered perfectly. However—
From the corner of his sharp eye, Neville, whose sword was sweeping up at high speed through the air, was still carefully watching Harry's face and body language for tells. That trace of a mischievous smile playing at Harry's mouth made Neville's heart tremble with sudden realization.
'There's more coming!'
"Protego!"
Neville, who had been preparing confidently to break the spell with his sword strike, forcibly exerted strength in his wrist, changing his motion mid-swing. The upward sweeping blade was pulled back sharply, and Neville raised the sword defensively before him with a shout!
And just as the invisible magical barrier expanded outward from the sword, rippling through the air, the red light attacking from the side suddenly split cleanly into two separate beams, striking toward Neville from left and right simultaneously in a pincer movement!
Neville's heart tensed. If he hadn't detected this clever trap in time, Harry's inspired stroke of genius would have definitely taken him down hard. But now—
Snap, snap!
The two red lights almost simultaneously struck Neville's powerful Shield Charm and were eliminated on contact, turning into scattered starlight that drifted down like magical snow.
"Hey!"
Neville flourished his sword with an exaggerated flaunt, spinning it once, looking at Harry with a triumphant smile.
"Got nothing left now, do you?"
"Oh, I've got plenty more tricks up my sleeve, Neville!"
Harry relaxed his combat stance, lowering his wand. He tapped the back of his neck with his wand casually and said with a matching grin amid the enthusiastic applause of the three spectators, who were clapping and hooting.
And so, a pre-bedtime exercise session of just the right intensity ended successfully. The four roommates once again carefully examined and admired Neville's strange, beautiful weapon before going to sleep with satisfaction, climbing into their four-poster beds.
The initial heat of early sleep gradually dissipated as the bright moon in the sky moved slowly to the other side of the castle, tracking across the heavens.
In the late night, the cool breeze drifting from the distant Forbidden Forest and entering the dormitory through the open window already carried a slight chill.
In his deep sleep, Harry unconsciously pulled back the blanket he had kicked aside in his restless dreams, hugged it tightly in his arms for warmth, turned over with a soft groan, and continued sleeping soundly.
"Harry Potter."
Suddenly, in his sleep, Harry vaguely heard someone calling his name. He also felt someone seemed to be tugging insistently at the bedding clutched in his arms. He grumbled impatiently twice and buried his head deeper in the blanket, trying to escape back into sleep.
"Harry Potter, Harry Potter—"
But the voice didn't disappear or fade away. Instead, it kept lingering persistently in his ear, almost whisper-like, and moreover, the tugging at his blanket became stronger and more urgent.
"Mmm—"
Harry's drowsy consciousness gradually returned to reluctant wakefulness, pulled from pleasant dreams. He groaned irritably twice, still mostly asleep, but still rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Is it time for class already, Ron?"
Harry mumbled unclearly, his words were slurred with sleep.
"Dobby is very sorry to disturb Harry Potter's rest, sir, but Dobby has something very important to give to Harry Potter. Dobby would not wake Harry Potter if it was not important."
Harry, with his arm still covering his eyes, quietly and repeatedly 'parsed' this unexpected sentence in his still-foggy brain, trying to make sense of the words.
"Dobby?!"
After about several dozen more seconds of confused processing, Harry suddenly sat up in bed with a start. By the pale moonlight streaming into the room through the window, he indeed discovered there were... two small dark figures standing by his bed!
Frantically feeling for his glasses on the bedside table, Harry squinted urgently and looked over.
"Oh, Dobby... and Winky?!"
Harry cried out in surprise. But the dark room around him and the impatient groans from the other occupied beds made Harry realize it wasn't yet dawn, that his roommates were still sleeping. He immediately lowered his voice to a whisper and asked with a face full of astonishment,
"Dobby, Winky, why are you looking for me in the middle of the night? What's happened?"
Seeing that Harry Potter hadn't gotten angry at being woken up in the middle of the night, Dobby's uneasy heart finally settled considerably. His large ears stopped trembling with nervousness.
The two house-elves exchanged glances by Harry's bed. Then, they simultaneously stepped aside, revealing a pile of boxes and packages before Harry's confused eyes.
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