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Chapter 317 - Neville's practice

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"Is this really necessary, Professor Ethan?" Neville asked, his face full of despair.

"This is for your own good," Ethan replied firmly.

"I'll inform your Head of House and the prefects to ensure you follow through."

Realizing they had no choice, Neville and Cedric exchanged glances before bidding Ethan a reluctant goodbye and leaving the training room.

The journey back to Gryffindor Tower felt endless. The long, winding staircase loomed before Neville like an insurmountable obstacle.

His legs already ached, and the idea of climbing it upside down, as Ethan had instructed, filled him with dread.

Taking a deep breath, Neville positioned himself, planting his hands on the first step. His arms trembled as he hoisted himself upward.

One step. Two steps. Before he could reach the third, his balance wavered, and he tumbled backward.

With a thud, he landed on the floor. Luckily, he hadn't climbed high enough to hurt himself. Groaning, he lay there for a moment before slowly pushing himself up.

At that moment, Harry, Hermione, and Ron emerged from the Great Hall, chatting as they made their way toward the common room.

They spotted Neville sprawled at the base of the staircase, his expression a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.

"Blimey, Neville! What happened?" Ron rushed forward, pulling him up.

"Ugh… ouch." Neville rubbed his head, wincing.

"Professor Ethan's assignment. He wants me to climb the stairs—upside down!"

As he spoke, he recounted the brutal training session he and Cedric had endured.

"Professor Ethan must have a good reason," Hermione said, frowning.

She didn't appreciate anyone speaking poorly of him.

Truth be told, Hermione was still a little bitter about missing out on Ethan's tutoring last summer.

When she learned that Neville and Cedric were receiving special lessons, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. And now, hearing Neville complain about it only irritated her further.

"Come on, mate," Ron sighed.

"We'll help you."

Harry and Ron each grabbed one of Neville's legs, flipping him upside down and carefully guiding him up the steps.

Step by step, they made progress. But as they neared the top, Ron's grip slipped slightly, and Harry, caught off guard, loosened his hold as well.

Neville's arms were already weak from exhaustion. His grip faltered.

And then—

"Ahhh!" Neville yelped as he tumbled downward.

Hermione gasped, hand darting toward her wand. But everything happened too fast.

Neville was falling.

And she wasn't sure if she could stop him in time.

Tragedy was about to strike, but just as Neville plummeted down the stairs, a voice called out from below—

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Neville's fall slowed, and he suddenly floated mid-air, suspended by an invisible force.

"What on earth is going on here?" Professor McGonagall's sharp voice rang out as she ascended the stairs, her eyes narrowing at the scene before her.

Her wand still raised, carefully guided Neville back onto the staircase landing, setting him down safely.

Before McGonagall could jump to any conclusions, the group hurriedly explained what had happened.

"I recall Professor Ethan mentioning this training to me," McGonagall said, her stern expression softening slightly.

At least they weren't merely fooling around.

"But this seems far too dangerous!" she continued, pursing her lips.

"I will be speaking to Professor Ethan about this."

She turned to Neville, her tone firm. "You are to stop this immediately. Understood?"

Neville nodded quickly, relieved.

With a sigh, McGonagall turned to leave, but before she could descend the stairs, Hermione called after her.

"Wait, Professor McGonagall!"

McGonagall paused, arching an eyebrow. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione hesitated for only a second before speaking.

"I was wondering… could other students voluntarily sign up for Professor Ethan's training?"

McGonagall looked puzzled. "Why would you want to?"

"Because things aren't safe anymore," Hermione said earnestly.

"Professor Ethan can teach us how to defend ourselves. The situation outside is different now. He has returned."

McGonagall's mouth opened as if to argue, but then her gaze flickered to Harry.

Everyone knew Voldemort's greatest interest lay in him.

After a moment of silent contemplation, McGonagall let out a slow breath.

"Very well," she said at last.

"I will speak with Professor Ethan about it."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Professor!"

Harry and Ron, however, exchanged bewildered looks, still processing what had just happened.

As McGonagall strode away, the group followed Neville into the common room.

"I think we should go," Harry muttered to Hermione.

"Oh, right! It's almost time," she replied quickly, though she sounded slightly uneasy.

Ron frowned.

"Go where?" He looked between them, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Professor Slughorn is hosting a gathering tonight," Hermione admitted hesitantly.

"He invited some students."

Ron's expression darkened. "Some students? Why didn't I get an invite?"

Then it dawned on him. His face flushed as he realized—of course.

He had never been one of Slughorn's favorites.

Slughorn had a keen eye for talent, charm, or ambition.

He always surrounded himself with students he believed would go on to be successful, ensuring he had powerful connections in the future.

"Ah," Ron muttered.

"The Slug Club. That's what this is, isn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione said, shifting uncomfortably.

"And for the record, I think it's a terrible name."

Ron scoffed. "The Slug Club," he repeated, mimicking Malfoy's drawl.

"Brilliant. Well, I hope you have a fantastic time. Maybe you and McLaggen can cozy up so Slughorn can crown you king and queen of slugs."

Hermione's face turned pink. "Oh, honestly, Ron!"

Harry sighed, knowing this was about to turn into another one of their infamous arguments.

And it was going to be a long night.

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