Quite a few people wanted to follow Neville and go check what was happening.
But in the end, Neville only chose a few senior D.A. members, including Ron and the boy whose tooth he had knocked out earlier.
The group stepped through the shifting moonlight and headed toward the corridor ahead.
But the moment they got close, rhythmic slapping sounds and faint cries reached their ears.
The expressions on their faces darkened. The sounds made them think of something bad, and their steps became hurried and uneven.
Finally, as those horrible noises grew clearer and clearer, they reached the half-open wooden door.
Neville carefully moved his body and leaned against the wall to peek through the crack.
Inside the small stairwell, a huge figure was lying on the ground, moving up and down constantly.
With each movement, crisp slapping sounds and weak cries rose rhythmically from beneath him.
Neville desperately searched for the true source of the sound. Only then did he suddenly discover that between those repeated movements, several strands of blonde hair were trembling on the floor, and lower down, a slender arm was weakly scratching at the gaps between the tiles.
It was a pale, slender, beautiful arm.
But the fingers at the end of that arm had already been reduced to a bloody mess.
Seeing that arm, Neville felt as if his heart had stopped beating. His mind went blank. Only those scarlet claw marks from earlier continued flashing before his eyes.
His pupils suddenly shrank, and his mouth opened slightly. Hot air, as though carrying sparks, escaped from his mouth.
And along with it came a deafening roar.
"You bastard!"
BOOM!
A blazing scarlet beam burst from the tip of Neville's wand, turning the wooden door into splinters and shooting straight at the dark figure on the ground.
The next moment, the huge dark figure that had still been moving fiercely suddenly froze. With strange agility, he drew his wand and casually swung it backward, scattering the incoming Disarming Charm.
The shockwave from the explosion blew back the hood that had fallen because of his "exercise," revealing the ugly fat face hidden beneath.
Those murky eyes stared directly at Neville and the others. Surprise first appeared on his face, but soon a savage grin spread across his lips.
"Ah, another bunch of little brats throwing themselves into the net. You've come..."
Before the hooded man could finish speaking, several spells of different colors shot toward him.
This time, the attackers were Ron and the others, who had finally recovered from the horrifying sight before them.
"...Just in time!"
As the last word left the hooded man's mouth, a translucent gray glow flashed from his wand and instantly formed a shield of light, reflecting all the incoming spells back.
Ron and the others turned pale.
The training they had received in the D.A. made them instinctively want to dive and roll away, but the reflected spells were actually even faster than when they had been fired. There was no way to dodge them.
At the critical moment, Neville suddenly stepped in front of them. A Shield Charm appeared as well, blocking the incoming spells.
"Be careful! He used spell reflection earlier. He's not some small fry. Triangle formation!"
Neville's roar finally snapped Ron and the others out of their panic.
They quickly formed a triangle around Neville and raised their wands once more.
The next moment, a large number of sound and light spells used as feints, mixed with several solid Bone-Breaking Curses, flew toward the hooded man.
Yet the huge, obese hooded man displayed agility beyond everyone's understanding.
He moved constantly through the barrage of spells, occasionally swinging his wand to block one almost unavoidable spell after another. His movements were smooth and relaxed, and he even smiled as he spoke.
"What does any of this matter? You're all going to die anyway. So before you die, why not let me enjoy myself? Hehe!"
The hooded man raised his wand with a savage grin.
This time, what burst from the tip of his wand was no longer the gray light used for defense.
It was the green glow that symbolized death.
"The Killing Curse! Spread out!"
Neville roared with all his strength, desperately trying to block the spell.
But it was already too late.
The green light shattered the spell barrage like lightning, leaving an afterimage on Neville's retina before stamping itself into the chest of someone beside him and sending him flying.
Thud!
The body hit the ground, kicking up dust.
Neville rushed over like a madman, pouring out all the potions he carried and stuffing them into the person's mouth.
But it was completely useless.
Because the light of life in the other's eyes had already faded.
The hooded man did not take the opportunity to attack. Instead, he waved his arms and laughed.
"Hey, hey, don't tell me he died just like that? I deliberately held back and only used thirty percent of my magic. I wanted to keep him around and torture him to death later. Why's he so fragile?"
Neville froze.
He slowly stood up and tilted his head toward the hooded man, blood-colored light flickering in his eyes.
Behind him, countless figures were shouting as they rushed over.
It was Hermione and the others, who had heard the commotion and come to support them.
The smile disappeared from the hooded man's face.
He could feel the killing intent deep in Neville's bones.
But to him, it really meant nothing.
His entire life had been spent killing.
It had nothing to do with his profession. He wasn't an Auror or a Hit Wizard. He simply enjoyed the cries of pain and the wonderful feeling of hot blood flowing out.
The chaos currently sweeping the French magical world was a carnival to him.
And the only reason he was here was because he had gone a little too far during his "celebration" and had been caught and brought here.
But that didn't matter.
As long as he could continue his "happiness," where he was didn't matter at all.
So Neville's killing intent really meant nothing.
He had seen eyes filled with even greater hatred and stronger killing intent.
But those things were part of his joy.
From a certain point of view, Neville's gaze only made him more excited.
The thing that actually made him suddenly become "serious" was the Gryffindors approaching behind Neville.
He could tell these students weren't very strong.
But wasn't their number a bit too much?
Enough ants could kill an elephant. Even the legendary wizard Grindelwald had once been defeated by the combined assault of MACUSA, let alone someone like him.
So after only taking a brief look at their numbers, he had already decided to retreat first.
Of course, that was only temporary.
Next, he would follow these students all the way. Then, when they relaxed their guard...
'Hehe!'
Just imagining that scene made the hooded man tremble with excitement.
He slowly retreated toward the wall behind him.
Thanks to his inherited family magic, as long as he reached it, he could turn into a shadow and slip into the wall to escape.
This magic had helped him escape danger countless times.
Although it had been broken not long ago by that black figure who always wore a compassionate smile.
Still, dealing with these kids shouldn't be a problem.
While the hooded man was thinking this, he suddenly felt something tugging at his calf, firmly holding him in place and preventing him from retreating any farther.
Surprised, he looked down.
A bloody hand was tightly gripping his ankle.
And the owner of that bloody hand, the girl he had abused until she was almost no longer human, was glaring at him with eyes so swollen they were almost invisible.
The hooded man couldn't help licking his lips and silently thought to himself, "Can't bear to part with me? It's okay. I'll be back soon."
What he liked most in his life were young girls. Their delicate skin and smooth hair always reminded him of the past.
Especially the girl before him.
She was top quality.
Her only flaw was probably that she was a bit too old. It would have been even better if she had been younger.
Thinking this, he grinned savagely and shook his leg, trying to throw off the bloody hand so he could retreat quickly.
To his surprise, the shake failed to loosen the girl's grip.
Refusing to believe it, he used more force.
Yet this time, even though the girl's body was lifted into the air by the tremendous strength, that bloody hand still tightly gripped his ankle, preventing him from taking another step back.
The hooded man couldn't understand it.
Her consciousness was already close to disappearing. Where had she gotten such strength?
Filled with hatred, he quickly raised his wand, intending to simply cut off her hand.
But at that moment, a howling gale suddenly swept in.
By the time the hooded man raised his head, his entire field of vision had already been covered in red light.
He instinctively tried to defend.
And he did manage to react.
But the gathered red light this time far exceeded the limit he could withstand. It directly shattered his defense and violently knocked the wand from his hand.
Then Neville and the others, who had already regrouped in the distance, cast their spells once more.
Another dense barrage shot out, and the hooded man's huge body crashed to the ground.
"Quick, quick, quick! Send one team to restrain him! Another team, treat the wounded!"
Hermione shouted loudly.
The others behind her had no time to enjoy the joy of defeating a powerful enemy. They hurriedly followed her orders and split up, rushing toward the girl and the hooded man. Only a small number of people remained beside the body of the boy struck by the Killing Curse.
Neville was among them.
Looking at the boy's pale face, Neville felt stabbing pain continuously coming from his heart.
The dead boy's name was Wade.
He was a seventh-year student who should have graduated this year.
Neville remembered him as a rather gloomy person. He always kept to himself, rarely spoke, rarely smiled, and wasn't very popular.
Over all these years, the only time Neville had seen him smile was during the secret D.A. meetings back then.
For a Gryffindor, that was extremely rare.
And today, he had died here.
He would never have the chance to graduate.
Neville took a deep breath and walked into the stairwell.
As soon as he entered, he saw the girl lying on the ground.
Her face had been completely ruined. If some obvious features had not still been exposed, Neville might not even have been able to tell she was a girl.
The rest of her body was even more unbearable to look at. Neville turned his head away after only one glance.
But the sight of a group of girls who had learned healing magic from Madam Pomfrey crying while pushing some long objects back into her body became deeply etched into his mind.
Honestly, the word "tragic" alone could no longer describe the girl's condition.
But Neville couldn't find a word stronger than that.
So he remained silent, while the hand holding his wand tightened more and more.
Neville knew the girl too.
Her identifying feature was the butterfly-shaped hair clip in her hair.
The clip looked awkward and ugly. Probably only the girl named Lani in all of Hogwarts would wear something like that.
Lani was very beautiful.
She was the kind of girl who was naturally pretty and also knew how to dress herself.
And her personality was rather... wild and bold.
That had earned her plenty of criticism.
Neville had heard other girls secretly gossip about Lani more than once, calling her flirtatious and shameless.
And once those words reached Lani's ears, those who spread the rumors would usually receive a beating from her fists.
Unfortunately, fists couldn't stop gossip.
By the time she reached seventh year, she had become known as a girl who would sleep with anyone.
Without question, Lani had been wronged. Neville firmly believed that.
Because during the time when he had been trapped in deep insecurity, Lani had been one of the few people willing to treat him as an equal.
And now the question was, why had Lani appeared here in the middle of the night?
As if noticing Neville's confusion, one of the girls helping Lani choked back tears and said,
"Lani... poor Lani. Weren't you on a date with Joseph? Why are you the only one lying here? That coward... did that coward abandon you and run away?"
"He didn't run."
Neville's voice suddenly sounded, startling the girl.
"He was a hero."
Neville spoke again and pointed upward.
Only then did the girl realize that Lani's swollen eyes, almost impossible to see, had remained open all this time.
Following Lani's gaze upward, they saw a rope hanging from the high ceiling, with the body of a boy swaying gently in the night wind.
The boy's condition was even worse than Lani's.
He had almost been carved into a bloody stump, and his neck hung crooked because of the thick rope.
Only his eyes remained wide open, staring at Lani.
Two streams of bloody tears were flowing from those silent eyes.
Naturally, the hooded man had no reason to ignore the fresh and lovely Lani and instead torture and kill the boy named Joseph first.
Yet Joseph had ended up like this.
The truth was obvious.
Joseph had fought to the very end, acting as the shield protecting Lani.
"Hoo..."
Neville took a deep breath.
Ignoring the girls, who were crying even harder after discovering Joseph's body, he turned and walked toward the hooded man.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
As the distance between them grew shorter and shorter, Neville had already raised his wand.
At its tip, a hazy green glow slowly appeared...