Chapter 191

“I can’t say that? Huh—just assume you and your bunch...”

Malfoy paused, still not uttering the names that followed. Lately he found Snape’s intentions harder to fathom, but that didn’t stop him from mocking this Gryffindor coward.

“Test that spell for me, Longbottom! Locomotor Mortis!”

Malfoy swung his wand. Neville’s eyes widened instantly; his legs snapped shut, and he crashed to the floor with a thud.

A cold smirk curled on Malfoy’s lips as he raised an eyebrow at the two behind him; Goyle and Crabbe burst into laughter.

The corridor was dim. In the adjacent room, the black cat that had been pressing its head against the door crack yanked it back swiftly.

It tilted its head, whiskers trembling, locking its gaze on the direction of the corridor.

As the black cat looked up, it met the gaze of a tabby cat whose whiskers also trembled—its eyes burned with suppressed, human-like fury as it stepped out calmly in front of Wizard Sean.

The conflict in the corridor wasn’t over. Neville, trembling, picked up his wand.

“Finite! (Spell Stop!)”

Neville cast the spell instinctively, then shut his eyes. When he opened them, the Leg-Locker Curse had been lifted.

I... I can do it... just as Wizard Sean said...

He stared at his wand, a brief smile tugging at his lips, then pushed himself upright against the wall.

He looked up to see Malfoy charging toward him, furious, flanked by Goyle and Crabbe.

“Grab his arms!”

Neville heard Malfoy roar.

Terrified by the two closing in, Neville froze—then Justin’s words flashed through his mind: the words Justin had spoken when he saw Neville, Ron, and Malfoy fighting in the courtyard.

“Good job, Neville. My father says—when dealing with people who have no morals or character, fists work wonders.”

As Goyle seized Neville’s left arm, Neville, knowing what was coming, punched Crabbe square in the face.

“Ahh—!”

Crabbe, utterly unprepared for resistance, screamed and collapsed to the ground.

Neville stared at his own fist, unable to believe he’d done it.

“I-I’m sorry...”

He apologized automatically, trembling.

“Hold him down, teach him a lesson!”

He heard Malfoy bellow.

At the end of the corridor, the noise of young wizards erupted, and two dark shadows vanished in an instant.

When the black cat reached the corridor’s end, it saw Malfoy and the others advancing on Neville, cornering him, raising their wands with malicious intent, muttering curses.

The black cat’s ink-black fur bristled involuntarily; its white-tipped ears flattened backward and disappeared.

The tabby cat stared, stunned for more than a moment—this child... had bristled for the first time?

Ahead of the black cat’s gaze, Neville had nowhere left to retreat.

“Alright, I only wanted you to test one spell—but now you’ll help me with more!”

Malfoy drew his wand.

“Rictusempra! (Laughing Jinx!)”

“Finite! (Spell Stop!)”

Neville’s hand moved faster than his mind—he cast the Finite he’d learned privately from Wizard Sean, and to his surprise, it worked perfectly.

But instantly he knew he was doomed—if he resisted, Malfoy would only rage further—oh god, he was finished!

As expected, a voice choked with fury rang out:

“Are you challenging me to a duel, Longbottom?! Then let’s duel!”

Malfoy, clearly enraged, unleashed a barrage of minor curses—but Neville reacted swiftly, countering most with Finite.

He hadn’t even begun to smile when Goyle and Crabbe lunged forward, disarming him in an instant.

The corridor, stripped of flickering spells, plunged into darkness.

Neville stared numbly as his new wand fell to the floor. He felt his swallow take a hundred times longer than usual; his body stiffened, his heart pounded wildly, and his courage vanished with the wand.

The corridor fell silent for several seconds before Malfoy let out a sneering laugh.

“Locomotor Mortis!”

Neville’s legs snapped shut, pinned against the wall.

“You’ve only learned one spell from that Wizard Sean Green. Look at yourself—a big, clumsy coward.”

He burst into loud laughter.

“I’m not a coward...”

Surrounded by the three, Neville watched helplessly as they toyed with his wand—his new wand.

He felt tears must be streaming down—he couldn’t even see his beloved wand clearly anymore.

“I’m not a coward...”

He murmured to himself, but his body offered him no strength.

“You’re a complete coward!”

He heard someone shout.

“I’m not a coward...”

His voice grew fainter. He remembered the hopeful, encouraging eyes in the Room of Requirement...

Wizard Sean, who’d spoken more in one day than he had all week...

His heart wasn’t stone—how could it feel nothing?

“Neville, there is only one kind of hero: one who fears, and overcomes fear.”

“Neville Longbottom, you are no less than anyone else.”

He heard someone speaking. When he looked up, he saw a black cat hurtling toward him like lightning.

Was that... Wizard Sean?

In his weakest moment, that name was the first to come to mind.

“...Wizard Sean said I’m no less than anyone else...”

A wand—smooth, sharp, sleek—snapped out from his waist.

Neville gripped it, and in the astonished gazes of Malfoy and the others, roared:

“Flipendo! (Repel Three Feet!)”

“Ahh—!!”

Goyle screamed, flew high into the air, then crashed onto his back.

Crabbe, startled and reaching for Neville, saw a fist suddenly loom before his eyes.

“Ahh—!!”

He too collapsed.

Neville couldn’t believe what he’d done—he stared at his fist—could it really be this strong?

He looked again at the wand that had just sprung forth—his tears must have started flowing again.

Malfoy stood frozen on the stone floor; Goyle and Crabbe lay sprawled everywhere.

Neville’s sudden outburst made Wizard Sean freeze mid-paw. He silently reverted to human form in a corner, and saw Professor McGonagall, also reverted, giving a slight nod.

In the corridor, Neville picked up his new wand and tucked his father’s wand back into his waistband.

Then he trembled as he walked away.

Wizard Sean watched from the corner, knowing—the dead wand had been given life by a father.