Chapter 253 The Battle at the Back Door of the Castle

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To be honest, Mr. Filch is in a very complicated mood right now.

He was the first person to witness Mad-Eye Moody fighting the Black Death, and so far, the only one.

For a Squib, a wizard's battle is always his most envied, but also the most hated thing, especially him, Argus Filch, a Squib whose parents are wizards.

He once resented his parents and himself, but as he got older, those resentments faded unknowingly with time.

But the fact that he was a Squib will always be the deepest scar in his heart.

Because like all children born in wizarding families, he was full of fantasies about all kinds of magic. Unlike other little wizards, his fantasy has been with him for decades.

Recalling the first twenty years of his life, it seems to be the epitome of his life today.

Before the age of magic riots came, he was born in a wizard family looking forward to the mystery of magic; after the age of magic riots passed, he slowly despaired in anxiety and depression.

That seemed to be the dividing line of his first twenty years, dividing his joy and pain so clearly, as if it was the day he met Dumbledore in the Hog's Head Bar, dividing his life into two.

He didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking, he only knew that it was Dumbledore's appearance that made him understand his desire for the magical world in his heart.

After Apollyon Pringle retired, he took over the key to the Hogwarts administrator's office and lived in Hogwarts Castle with a completely different identity from his childhood imagination.

This stay is a full thirty years.

He just wanted to be closer, closer to this fantastic castle... He wanted to use his whole life to touch the dream he longed for most in childhood.

However, as the days passed and the years passed, watching the young wizards enroll and graduate in batches, he was still a Squib, which hadn't changed since the beginning.

Gradually, he spent more and more time wandering in the castle, and he became more and more keen on catching students who violated the school rules, and even longed to restore the old school system and punish those students by hanging them on chains from the ceiling.

Because in his opinion, those little bastards who don't understand the rules and don't study hard should be punished! Severe punishment!

Yes! He is jealous! He felt jealous from the bottom of his heart!

He is jealous of those little bastards who are obviously talented, but they only know how to play and cause trouble all day... If you don't want it, why don't you give me your talent? Why?

Obviously, you can use magic with a little effort; and I have learned for so many years, but I still have no hope?

I just want to take a wand and wave a feather to float a few inches. Is it that hard?

I just want to touch the cauldron with the tip of the staff to make the formula take effect. Is it that difficult?

I just want to see a little black smoke in the crystal ball, is it that difficult?

I just want to open a magic book... Is it that difficult?

But the reality told him that he could only read books like Modern History of Magic and Guide to Interpreting Dreams that had nothing to do with magic, and nothing more.

To this day, Filch is still working hard. Whenever he has free time, he reads unenchanted books, secretly takes out his wand and waves it when he returns to the office, and even enrolls in a correspondence class to study secretly. Even if it doesn’t work, he won’t give up. .

Leaning against the door panel of the back door, Filch still hunched his back as usual, watching the battle between Mad-Eye and the Black Death on the lake, dazed in a daze.

They were getting closer and closer...but was he afraid?

No, not at all!

If possible, he would rather die at the hands of those evil and feared Death Eaters, at least a thousand times better than dying silently with Squibs.

This is only because he loves magic from the bottom of his heart, which will never change in his life.

Hogwarts is the most sacred land in his mind.

Who?

Filch, who was in a trance of memories, suddenly heard a burst of hurried and messy footsteps coming from the passage behind the door.

He picked up the lantern at his feet and walked in. His cat, Mrs. Norris, also followed his footsteps and walked beside him.

Who's there?

A dry and hoarse voice echoed in the corridor, and the series of footsteps stopped abruptly.

The owners of those footsteps were naturally Harry and Ron.

Like the wind, they passed Hermione who was leaning against the wall, and immediately stopped in their tracks after hearing Filch's voice, turning around subconsciously and trying to escape.

stand

Filch had seen the faces of Harry and Ron, and recognized the troublesome little bastards instantly.

The word live rolled around his mouth, but he swallowed it back.

Filch glanced back out the door, and then he ran down the passage, herding Harry and Ron like ducks towards the Great Hall.

...Okay! I'm going to put you in the souvenir cup showroom and wipe the trophies for a month!

Filch's voice echoed in the hallway, still hoarse and hysterical, as if every student who violated the school rules was his enemy.

Hermione, who was standing by the corridor, glanced in the direction Filch left, and then walked gently towards the door.

boom!

There was a sudden explosion outside, and Hermione was startled, and then she saw an incredible picture.

That was Moody. He had retreated from the lake to the pier of the underground dock, and the black dead man was hitting the ground heavily, splashing a large amount of broken stone and broken bricks.

Hermione quickly retracted her head, and then managed to organize her thoughts in shock.

The situation outside was clear at a glance, and then there was an enemy sneak attack at the door, and Moody was blocking the opponent.

But what is it that is fighting Moody?

After she settled down, she poked her head out again, observing the battle outside with fear.

Moody seemed to be struggling. He kept casting spells, trying to repel the opponent to keep the distance, but the opponent's physical strength seemed to be extraordinarily strong, and his resistance to magic was even more incomprehensible.

With the impact of beams of light and flames, Moody's sophistication prevented his spell from failing even once, but at most he could only push the opponent back a few steps, and sometimes he could only make the opponent shake slightly.

Although the distance between them was still more than twenty feet, if it continued like this, the first one who couldn't hold it would definitely be Mad-Eye Moody.

Moody frowned irritably, his magic eye and the other normal eye stared at the Black Death Apostle, and although the wand in his hand was shaking, the tip of the wand was always aimed at the enemy.

He didn't know that Dumbledore had actually erected a defensive barrier, covering almost the entire castle. In fact, it would be much easier if he retreated into the hallway by the back door.

Therefore, he has been persevering, even though the operation of his magic power is a bit sluggish now, even if his physical strength can't keep up.

But he only knew that he could no longer retreat, he had to block the opponent here.

Oops!

Moody's good eye stared suddenly, and his heart skipped a beat, because he suddenly felt a lump in his foot, and immediately lost his balance.

careful!

boom!

Hermione's scream followed by a muffled thud, and she saw Moody fall back, saw Moody's wand tilt, and saw the beam of magic graze the head of the man covered in black air shot out.

Then she saw that Moody was punched in the shoulder by the weird guy, flew straight towards her, and fell hard against the wall.

go back!

Moody, who was leaning against the wall outside the door, reluctantly turned his head, and immediately saw Hermione who subconsciously took a step. He immediately roared loudly, but then coughed up a big mouthful of blood.

Moody's left shoulder was completely twisted, but he felt no pain.

Moody, who has suffered many serious injuries, knows that in this case, the severe pain will not come for a while.

Without hesitation, he immediately raised the wand firmly held in his right hand, and released another spell, trying to buy the girl one last bit of time.

Hermione froze at the door in panic. She kept thinking, but her heart became more and more confused. Yes, she would always make this mistake when facing a crisis.

What to do? Is there any way? What should I do?

She didn't think about running away, as if the word didn't exist in her dictionary.

...Is there anything else I can use? What would Maca do if he encountered this situation? She kept whispering, and Moody's roar seemed to be blocked by her.

Suddenly, her eyes suddenly lit up.

Maca... Maca! That's right!

Hermione immediately put her hand into her bosom, and took out the remaining two bottles of potion that Maca gave her as a birthday present.

Immediately afterwards, she quickly raised one of the bottles of potion, and threw it at the monster with all her might.

crack bang

A bright bluish flame burst out suddenly, like a sun that exploded, and a dazzling and fiery light erupted in front of the black dead disciple.

Those difficult-to-see flames directly attached to the magic-filled black energy of the Black Death Apostle, burning blazingly, turning the Black Death Apostle into a bright blue fireman.

Moody's eyes widened, he gritted his teeth and swung his wand again, knocking it back a few steps, but the monster continued to charge towards this side without realizing it.

Is it useless?

Both Moody and Hermione held their breath, staring unblinkingly at the monster rushing in, but after running a few steps, they wobbled and slowed down at the same time.