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Though they knew there were two of them, and that all the Gryffindor Quidditch team members were nearby, still, when Armostad's chilling gaze fixed upon them, Prian and Philoa both instinctively shivered. It was as if a fully grown Hungarian Horntail had opened its ferocious maw towards them, ready to devour them whole!
"Prian~" Philoa gripped her boyfriend's wrist tightly, her voice trembling. "Are you sure he's just some weird Slytherin bookworm, Prian? Why... why do I feel his eyes are so terrifying, a bit like that maddened Hippogriff Professor Kettleburn showed us last week?"
"Don't talk nonsense, Philoa, we're Gryffindors—wizards of the House of Courage!" Prian inwardly agreed with Philoa. In that instant when his eyes met Blaine's, if Philoa hadn't been cowering in his arms, he might have already turned and fled. But his masculine pride forced him to stand firm. "Hey, you bad boy, Blaine, don't look at us like that. You brought this on yourself. Who told you to run into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night and curse someone with dark magic—you, you, what are you doing?!"
Whoosh! Magic surged violently. Flames scattered in the dirt, on tree trunks, and on rocks converged at the tip of Armostad's dancing wand, forming a golden fireball as tangible as reality, like a sun of infinite light and heat suddenly rising above the sea's surface under the cover of night. The terrifying high temperature rapidly evaporated the moisture in the cold, damp air before spreading outwards. A pine tree close to Armostad instantly burst into flames from the intense heat. Dozens of feet away, the two young wizards instantly broke into a sweat, as if standing on the brink of a volcanic eruption!
"No, no, Armostad, we just didn't mean it..." Fear brought two clear streaks of tears down Philoa's pretty face. She had no idea what she was saying, merely pleading instinctively. Prian also raised his wand, but he knew very well that his Shield Charm, which might not even cast successfully, stood no chance against the fierce golden sun at the tip of Armostad's wand.
"Get on your brooms, run!" Just as the ashen-faced Armostad swung his wand down, Prian finally found a sliver of courage. He exerted all his strength to throw Philoa and her Comet 1700 backward, letting out a gut-wrenching roar, "Go find Professor McGonagall, don't look back!"
Prian might never know that it was precisely that flicker of human light, blossoming in his moment of life and death, that saved him. Armostad, who had witnessed the scene, saw the malice in his eyes waver for a moment. The next second, his steady wrist suddenly lowered slightly, and the fireball, which would have landed at his feet, ultimately slammed into the ground ten feet away from him with a thunderous crash!
Boom! Like the brilliant burst of a supernova at the end of its life, the fireball, containing terrifying magical power, instantly melted the cracked earth into lava upon impact. The suddenly displaced hot air let out a deafening roar, like a pressure cooker full of steam suddenly opened. Prian's Shield Charm shattered in less than a second. He was directly blown away by the powerful air current before he could even scream, hitting a tree as thick as a wrist with a crack before rolling a dozen times on the ground and finally stopping. His back was already a bloody mess!
Philoa suffered significantly less damage; Prian had shielded her from a considerable portion of the impact. But even so, she was blown dozens of feet away by the surging air current. Standing behind a milky-white magical barrier, completely unharmed, Armostad grimly watched the dazed Philoa crying and scrambling onto her flying broomstick, not even bothering to extinguish the flames on her robes, and charging towards the castle without looking back. He finally did not make another move.
The surroundings were a mess. Deprived of magical support, the special magical fire stubbornly consumed the chaotic world.
Crack, crack~Â Armostad walked across the scorched earth, step by step, to Prian's side. He lowered his head and looked down at the shocking wounds on his back, his expression unmoved. Prian didn't die, of course. Armostad had no desire to study in Azkaban, at least not yet.
"I was just about to let you taste the pain of a severed limb," Armostad said expressionlessly. "To make you think straight. However, your final act of bravery earned you some dignity." Armostad took out a bottle of Dittany from the cloth pouch in his robes, along with several other colorful potions of unclear effect. He mixed them proportionally and poured them onto Prian's back. With a flick of his wand, the raw, bleeding wounds began to creeping with new flesh, which quickly grew.
Prian's ashen face improved, but several of his ribs were still unnaturally bent. Armostad did not fix his broken bones. Madam Pomfrey could easily handle such minor injuries.
"I should also learn my lesson. I actually thought I would be safe in this school—"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! A few sharp, whistling sounds suddenly came from deep within the Forbidden Forest. As they drew closer, they rapidly split, surrounding them from all directions. Five dark figures gradually emerged from the swirling mist. Armostad showed no surprise. Ever since he saw Prian and Philoa in their Gryffindor Quidditch robes, he had assumed they wouldn't be acting alone. However, when a short, sturdy figure became clear from the blur, Armostad's lips still twitched uncontrollably.
Charlie Weasley—Bill Weasley's younger brother, the second oldest in the Weasley family, and a genius Seeker for the Gryffindor team. He actually had an Acromantula, as big as a car and struck by at least three petrification curses, dangling from his broomstick! Armostad never knew there were Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest. They really know how to have fun, these little Gryffindor lions!
As a sharp-eyed Seeker, Charlie immediately spotted Prian at Blaine's feet. Charlie, with a composure beyond his years, didn't rush to question. He sat high on his broom, carefully surveying the daunting mess around them. When he saw the roughly three-foot-deep, still smoking melted hole in front of Armostad, he gasped. "Where's Philoa, Blaine?" Charlie's voice was as weathered as his appearance.
"Perhaps she's mingled with the earth by now," Armostad said calmly. "You can look for yourselves. Perhaps you'll even dig up a few fingernails or something."
"You killed Philoa?!" One of the Gryffindor players let out an incredulous roar. "And Prian, where are his clothes? What did you do to him?!" Accusations surged like a tide. They all raised their wands, pointing them at Armostad. Someone yelled that Armostad should be sent to Azkaban.
Charlie Weasley indeed possessed a leadership quality uncommon for others. Among this group, he was the youngest, and also the calmest. He believed that Armostad couldn't possibly have killed Philoa, unless he truly wanted to go to wizard prison. However, Prian's severe injuries were undeniable. The top priority at the moment was to ensure Prian's safety. Charlie pulled out his wand and severed the ropes holding the Acromantula. He controlled his broom to hover in the air and said in a low voice, "Give Prian back to us, Blaine. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll have to suffer a little."