You're Stronger Than Ten Malfoys Put Together

The entire Great Hall erupted into chaos.

"Damon? You—"

Malfoy's voice came out horribly distorted, like a chicken being strangled.

A heavy fist slammed viciously into his face!

At the same time, Damon's furious voice rang through the hall.

"I could overlook you calling me Mudblood all the time—I never held it against you. But why did you have to bully my friend?"

His expression looked furious beyond measure, yet after knocking Malfoy down with one punch, he made no further move. Instead, he stood and looked at Neville behind him.

Neville understood at once. His clenched fist moved faster than his mind could react, already swinging straight at Malfoy!

Malfoy had only just pushed himself up from the floor and opened his mouth to speak when that punch knocked him down again.

So he wasn't all that impressive after all?

Neville was greatly encouraged. Some dormant force in his blood seemed to have been completely awakened by that punch. He straddled Malfoy and began raining down blow after blow!

Damon stood nearby, wand aimed at the crowd, coldly watching every little snake who tried to come closer.

Among the crowd, several Slytherin students hid behind others and secretly cast jinxes at Damon amid the chaos. He accurately bounced them back with the Shield Charm. Some broke out in boils all over their bodies, some suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, and some began dancing on the spot. Together with Malfoy's shrieks, it was almost like they were holding a ball.

"What are you doing, Neville Longbottom?" Malfoy was still yelling.

Neville ignored everything and kept punching.

He had no technique whatsoever, but the more he hit, the smoother it became, and the more exhilarated he felt! When his left hand grew tired, he used his right. He alternated between them, and even after both arms had lost their strength, he stubbornly clenched his weakening fists and swung his aching arms, brushing them across Malfoy's face again and again.

It had happened quickly, and it was stopped just as quickly.

The professors seemed not to have expected students to be so bold as to publicly beat someone right under their noses. On top of that, Damon's words made them frown deeply—someone among the students had actually been using such an insulting term all along?

But after a few stunned seconds, Professor McGonagall immediately stepped in and stopped everything.

Malfoy was already crying loudly.

"Waaah! I'm telling my father! You're dead! Longbottom, Damon, just you wait! I'll get you both expelled!"

He shoved Neville away, sat on the floor, and howled at the top of his lungs.

Seeing him like that, the other professors were somewhat relieved—he still had the strength to cry, so his injuries did not seem serious.

Even so, their expressions remained stern. Professor McGonagall's brows were tightly furrowed, unable to understand how a child who had always been mature and steady could do something like this.

What made her even angrier and more helpless was that the chief culprit behind all this showed no awareness that he had done anything wrong. Instead, he pulled Neville up from the floor and calmly helped him straighten his loosened tie, as though Neville's attire and manners mattered more than the "monstrous disaster" they had caused.

This scene was deeply etched into the minds of many young wizards. Even ten or twenty years later, whenever they spoke of it, they would still relish the memory.

They screamed in alarm, the professors wore dark expressions, yet The Duelling Prince merely calmly tied that chubby boy's tie, as though none of it was worth his notice, while their opponent was still crying his lungs out.

If they could have traded places with Neville at that moment, they would have been willing even if every last House Cup point had been deducted.

"Not bad, Neville. You know what? You're stronger than ten Malfoys put together. Don't ever be afraid of him again. He should be afraid of you."

Neville's cheeks were flushed red. He did not care about the scraped skin on his fists at all. His eyes shone brightly, and he was excited beyond measure.

After that, the memories of the young wizards became somewhat fragmented.

The whole Great Hall was in an uproar. The prefects desperately tried to maintain order. The little snakes afflicted by jinxes writhed wildly with miserable expressions. The professors looked stern, though they could not hide their astonishment. Snape looked as though he wanted to devour Damon alive, but the faint curve at the corner of his mouth made the young wizards unable to laugh any longer.

Everything was so noisy.

Cheers, screams, sobs, cries, and angry rebukes overlapped. The prefects' roars rang through the Great Hall. The young wizards who had only just entered stared with shining eyes and excitedly shouted, "What happened?" The waves of sound seemed to become a great river sweeping through the hall, all kinds of voices kneaded into one.

Yet everyone present could clearly hear only one sound.

They watched Damon White pat Neville on the shoulder and heard the knock of Damon's shoes against the floor.

Damon White walked forward like that, toward the professors.

No one could hear anything else. They could only stare blankly at that figure.

The farce was over.

Neville, Malfoy, and the students hit by jinxes were all sent to the hospital wing. Their injuries were very minor. Aside from the little snakes who had brought it upon themselves, Neville and Malfoy only needed some ointment applied to their wounds and could even attend class half an hour later.

The professors breathed a sigh of relief, but Damon, as the instigator, was directly deducted one hundred points, while Neville lost fifty.

In the hospital wing, Neville had calmed down a little, but he was still thrilled and trembling over what he had done earlier.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were even more stunned by Damon's outrageous actions.

Harry and Ron excitedly clenched their fists, imagining that they were the ones beating Malfoy in front of all the wizards.

Hermione nearly cried over the one hundred and fifty lost points, yet she still could not forget the overwhelming scene that had filled her mind.

All the Gryffindor students gathered together and talked nonstop. More and more students arrived at the Great Hall, crying, "What just happened?"

Such voices continued to ring out all over the Great Hall. From time to time, students beat their chests in regret that they had actually missed such a spectacle.

The trio went to the hospital wing to visit Neville and praised his bravery. The four of them were all happy, but then Ron blankly asked a question.

"Damon—will Damon be expelled?"

The other three realized that was possible, and their faces instantly turned pale. Every trace of their smiles vanished.

"Expelled? Could it really become that serious?" Harry asked belatedly.

"It could. Didn't you see how awful the professors looked? Malfoy keeps bragging that his father is one of the School Governors. He seems to have quite a bit of power."

Ron's expression grew even uglier.

Hermione no longer had time to worry about the House Cup points. She became more anxious than ever. "Can we think of a way? Is there anything we can do?"

Neville even felt like crying again.

Damon had stood up for him, and now—besides, if Gran found out about this, would she scold him to death?

Even so, he gathered his last bit of courage and said resolutely:

"I—I'll tell the professors that I wanted to do it—actually, Damon only threw one punch. I did all the rest!"

"Neville, it's no use—we all know Damon was the one who started this."

At the thought that Damon might be expelled, Hermione suddenly covered her face with both hands, nearly bursting into tears.

But she would not allow herself to cry. She had to think of a way to save Damon!