HP: Wizardry’s a Hassle, Wand in the Right Hand, Gun in the Left

In an instant, the two closed in on each other. Neville launched the first attack, openly thrusting his foot forward while one hand protected his head and the other remained poised to strike.

Neville's fighting style could be summed up in one word: Fierce!

He started with a head-guarded kick aimed straight at Draco's vital points, moving at incredible speed - this was no feint.

Used to Neville's style by now, Draco barely managed to dodge the kick by stepping aside. He dared not directly block this brute's attacks, having learned that lesson many times before.

Neville's strength is really something else. We're the same age, but I can't match him at all, Draco thought glumly.

His only advantages over Neville were technique and speed. He could only try to find opportunities to wear down Neville's stamina or look for chances to deal damage while dodging.

Mind racing, Draco shifted his footwork, spinning as his fingers straightened into a blade-like formation, rapidly striking at Neville's throat.

The two knew each other's styles well by now. Just as Draco knew of Neville's fierceness, Neville was well aware of Draco's craftiness.

A feint, Neville thought.

His guard arm swept down, easily deflecting Draco's throat strike. As expected, there wasn't much force behind it. In his peripheral vision, he caught a dark shadow aiming for his knee!

Neville quickly raised his front leg to block Draco's kick while his loaded punch shot straight for Draco's face, seemingly accompanied by an impressive whoosh of air.

Of course, this is an exaggerated description - fights between twelve-year-olds aren't quite so dramatic, at least not to observers. But for the two combatants, it felt very different.

Their nerves were stretched to the limit, their senses slightly enhanced by the hormones coursing through their bodies.

Draco's soul nearly left his body as he watched the seemingly unavoidable fist growing larger before his eyes.

With no space to dodge outward and create distance, he had an idea and ducked into Neville's embrace.

Then, immediately spinning, both hands latched onto Neville's extended punching arm. Using the momentum, he pulled forward and down, keeping his body close to Neville's, bending slightly with a small step - and with a powerful thrust of his hips, Neville went flying!

A momentum-based shoulder throw.

It all happened in a flash - Harry and Ron only saw Draco dodge Neville's straight punch, lean in, and suddenly Neville was flying forward.

They were dumbfounded.

"This..." Ron was stunned, pointing at Draco while staring blankly at Harry.

"..." Harry had no response, just staring dumbly at the two fighters.

There's a favorite saying among Hogwarts students:

Huh?

"Wait, are these really wizards?" Harry finally found his voice, voicing what everyone was thinking.

When did Malfoy get so skilled?! Huh? Did he evolve in secret behind our backs?

The two finally snapped out of their daze - oh crap, Neville went flying!

"Neville! Are you okay?!" they called out urgently.

As for the airborne Neville, he wasn't panicked at all. He slightly adjusted his position mid-air, landed with a breakfall to disperse the force, rolled once and immediately stood up.

Draco wasn't surprised, grimacing internally - he would have been shocked if that was enough to take down this tough guy.

Following his style of taking any advantage without mercy, Draco charged in before Neville could fully regain his stance.

Below the platform, Professor Flitwick's eyes were sparkling with excitement.

What is this?! What a wonderful way of fighting!

Though outwardly the kindly Charms professor, he was actually a true battle maniac inside. His long-dormant fighting spirit was reignited by the exchange above.

He suddenly grabbed Dumbledore's arm, as Dumbledore clearly knew the name of this fighting style.

"Albus, what is this?!" he asked eagerly, unable to hide his excitement.

Though they'd only shown the tip of the iceberg, Flitwick could tell this was a fascinating combat method. Even though the two seemed somewhat inexperienced with the techniques, there was still an inherent beauty to it.

The beauty of violence!

This was a beauty he'd never seen before as a wizard!

Dumbledore explained with a smile: "This is fighting. If I remember correctly, it's a Muggle combat method, also a competitive sport, using the body as a weapon to defeat opponents through various techniques." He then pointed to Glenn, "This was taught to Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy by Glenn. He is their teacher."

Professor Flitwick's burning gaze immediately turned to Glenn, who felt the stare and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

"I have a feeling that if I could incorporate this fighting style into magical dueling, my dueling skills would improve by several levels," Flitwick muttered, turning his attention back to the two grappling on the platform.

Beside him, Snape gave a cold laugh. He had long since witnessed this combat style. Even he had to dedicate significant effort to preventing Glenn from getting in close during their practical training sessions, or he might lose. The energy spent on this was even more than dealing with Glenn's spells.

Embarrassingly, now Snape could only win by constantly maintaining distance from Glenn through maneuvering. Though he could block and deflect Glenn's spells, his own spells were increasingly unable to hit Glenn. He had to rely on his adult-level magical power to continuously restrict Glenn's movement space with spells, forcing him to take hits directly - only then did he have a chance of winning.

Thinking about this, Snape's expression darkened further. He, a reasonably capable professor, had to resort to such methods to win, and with great difficulty at that. Glenn was simply too agile, too hard to hit with spells. If others found out about this, what would become of his dignity as a professor?!

No, I must secretly learn some of these "fighting" techniques, or I might lose face when training Glenn in magical dueling.

Losing to his own student - where would he put his face as a professor!

No one knew what Snape was thinking behind his stern expression, except for you readers.

But clearly they wouldn't directly ask Glenn for instruction - they needed to find a way to learn secretly.

Their gazes suddenly met, and after checking each other's eyes, they recognized fellow aspirants wanting to learn Glenn's fighting style.

The two potential battle maniacs, who rarely interacted normally, began whispering together.

Meanwhile, Hermione, leaning against Glenn with one hand propping up her head, was muttering something quietly.

"Parry and counter punch, elbow strike and knee, throw and ground strike, side strike to throat, hook... oh? A feint? Has Draco improved recently?" Hermione poked Glenn, asking softly.

She had been predicting their movements. The techniques Neville and Draco were using were just basic fighting moves she had learned years ago. She could easily identify and predict their techniques based on their wind-up movements and the situation. She hadn't expected Draco's feint to fool her.

Glenn explained beside her: "It's easy to change punch trajectories before they're fully thrown, just by slightly adjusting the rotation angle. It's normal to be fooled - let's see how Neville responds."

"Oh, I see." Hermione nodded seriously. Looks like I'm still not working hard enough - I'll have Glenn give me extra practice this weekend!

Draco's fighting talent was indeed impressive. That uppercut he changed into a hook at the last moment - now to see how Neville would defend.

Well, true to his Gryffindor nature, Neville simply chose not to defend when he couldn't. He took the right hook directly, but turned his neck to the right, dispersing most of the force.

"Not good!" Draco knew he was at a disadvantage and tried to quickly step back, but it was too late.

Neville immediately grabbed him in a clinch and slammed him hard to the ground, transitioning to ground fighting.

It's over, Little Dragon's expression turned ugly. He knew he couldn't beat Neville in ground fighting. To avoid unnecessary injury - he didn't want to go to class with a swollen face tomorrow, and moreover...

Damn, how did I forget we still have training in the Forbidden Forest tonight!!

Neville!

He quickly tapped Neville to signal his surrender, and the latter promptly released him.

"Neville wins." Glenn's cold voice came from the stands, declaring the match over.

Though they didn't really understand what happened, the greatly impressed Harry and Ron immediately cheered!

"Well done, Neville! You took down Malfoy!" Ron pumped his fist while Harry beamed with joy. Though slightly resentful about Neville's secret evolution, they were still good friends after all.

But at that moment, Neville felt no joy at all. Reminded by Draco's trembling voice, the forgetful Neville finally remembered what had been nagging at the back of his mind.

Oh no, we're done for!

His expression also turned ugly as the fight ended and he realized how depleted his energy was - this would definitely affect tonight's training.

That demon Glenn wouldn't take their exhaustion into consideration!

He only cares about Hermione!

The two quickly said goodbye to Glenn, Hermione and the professors in the stands, rushing back to their dormitories to rest. Draco even ignored Harry and Ron's mockery in his hasty retreat.

"Strange, Malfoy didn't argue with us - that's not like him. Could it be he's too em~bar~rassed about losing?" Ron and Harry supported Neville while sarcastically commenting about Draco.

Neville smiled bitterly and shook his head, dealing with his new fanboys while hurrying them back to the dorm.

He needed rest - his survival tonight wasn't guaranteed otherwise!

Hermione stretched comfortably as she stood up, pulling Glenn with her. "Let's head back too, have some warm pumpkin juice to warm up." Glenn nodded, about to say goodbye to the professors when Flitwick and Dumbledore stopped them.

"We have an idea..." Flitwick began.

Glenn raised an eyebrow.

?

He could smell trouble brewing.