Chapter 254

To tell you the truth, Mr. filch is in a complicated mood.

He was the first and only person to see mad eye moody fight the black dead.

For a squib, the battle of a wizard is always his most envious and annoying thing - especially for him, Argus filch, a squib whose parents are wizards.

He once hated his parents and himself, but as he grew older, those resentments faded with time.

But he was a squib, but it was always the deepest scar in his heart.

Because like all children born in wizard 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 uprising, born in a wizard family, he was full of hope for the mystery of magic; After the age of the magic riot passed, he slowly despair in anxiety and depression.

That seemed to be the dividing line of his first twenty years, dividing his joy and pain so clearly, just like the day he met Dumbledore at the pig's head bar, dividing his life in two.

He didn't know what Dumbledore thought. He only knew that Dumbledore's appearance made him understand his desire for the magical world.

After Apollon Pringle retired, he took the key to the Hogwarts administrator's office and lived in Hogwarts castle in a different identity than he had imagined in his childhood.

I have lived here for thirty years.

He just wants to be closer and closer to this fantastic castle... He wants to use his life to touch the dream he most longed for when he was a child.

However, as the days passed and the years passed, he was still a squib when he watched the little wizards enter and graduate one after another - this has not changed since the beginning.

Gradually, he spent more and more time wandering in the castle, became more and more enthusiastic about catching students who violated the school rules, and even longed to restore the old school system and punish those students by hanging them from the iron chain on 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!

Yeah! He's jealous! He felt jealous at the bottom of his heart!

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

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

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

I just want to point the crucible with the tip of the stick to make the formula take effect. Is it so difficult?

I just want to see a little black smoke in the crystal ball. Is it so difficult?

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

But the reality told him that he could only read the history of modern magic and the guide to dream interpretation, which had nothing to do with magic. He had a dry addiction, that's all.

Today, filch is still working hard. As soon as he has free time, he reads books without magic, secretly takes out his wand and waves it when he returns to the office, and even signs up for correspondence classes to study secretly - even if it's useless, he won't give up.

Leaning against the panel of the back door, filch was still bent as usual, staring at the battle between crazy eyed Han and the black dead on the lake.

They are getting closer and closer... But is he afraid?

No, not at all!

If possible, he would rather die in the hands of those evil and frightening death eaters, which is at least thousands of times better than silently dying with "squib" regret.

This is just because he loves magic from the bottom of his heart, which will not change in his life.

Hogwarts is the most sacred land in his mind.

"Who?"

Filch, who was in a trance in his memory, suddenly heard a burst of rapid and messy footsteps coming from the corridor inside the door.

He picked up the lantern at his feet and walked in. His cat, Mrs. loris, followed him.

"Who's there?"

The dry and hoarse voice echoed in the corridor, and the footsteps suddenly stopped.

The masters of the footsteps were, of course, Harry and Ron.

They passed Hermione leaning against the wall like the wind. After hearing Filch's voice, they immediately stopped, as if subconsciously turning around and trying to escape.

"Station -"

Filch had seen the faces of Harry and Ron and recognized them all at once.

A word "Zhu" rolled around his mouth, but he swallowed it back.

Filch glanced back at the door. Then he ran into the passage and drove Harry and Ron towards the auditorium like a duck.

"... OK! I'll put you in the Memorial Cup showroom and wipe the trophy for a month!"

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

Hermione, standing on the edge of the corridor, glanced in the direction filch left, and then walked gently to the door.

"Boom!"

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

That's moody, who has now retreated from the lake to the dock of the underground dock, and the black dead man is falling heavily on the ground, splashing a large area of broken stones and bricks.

Hermione quickly retracted her head, and then thought in shock.

The situation outside is clear at a glance - there is an enemy sneak attack at the back door, and Moody's is blocking each other.

But what is it that is fighting Moody's?

Having settled her mind, she leaned out her head again and observed the war outside with fear.

Moody seems to be struggling. He keeps casting spells and trying to repel each other to keep a distance, but the other party's physical strength seems to be particularly strong, and his resistance to magic is incomprehensible.

With the impact of light beams and flames, Moody's sophistication didn't fail his spell at one time, but he could only beat the other party back a few steps at most, sometimes even shake the other party a little.

Although the distance between them is still more than twenty feet, if it continues like this, the first one who can't hold up is crazy eye moody.

Moody frowned irritably. His magic eye and the other normal eye stared at the black dead man. Although the wand in his hand was shaky, the tip of the wand was always aimed at the enemy.

He did not know that Dumbledore had actually set up a defense barrier, and the scope almost shrouded the whole castle. In fact, as long as he retreated into the corridor at the back door, it would be much easier.

Therefore, he has been holding on, even if the operation of his magic is a little sluggish, even if his physical strength can't keep up.

But he only knows that he can't retreat anymore. He must stop the other party here.

"Bad!"

Moody's intact eye suddenly stared and his heart suddenly burst, because he suddenly felt his foot hurt and then lost his balance.

"Be careful!"

"Bang!"

Hermione's scream and a dull crash sounded one after another. She saw Moody's back, Moody's wand tilted, and the magic beam shot out against the black guy's head.

Then she saw that moody was punched on the shoulder by the strange guy, flew straight towards her, and then fell heavily on the wall.

"Go back!"

Moody, who was leaning against the wall outside the door, reluctantly looked back and immediately saw Hermione taking a step subconsciously. He immediately shouted, but then he coughed up a big mouthful of blood.

Moody's left shoulder was completely twisted, but he didn't feel any pain.

Moody's, who has been seriously injured many times, 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 a spell again, trying to buy the girl the last time.

Hermione was stunned at the door in panic. She kept thinking, but her heart became more and more confused - yes, she always made this mistake in the face of crisis.

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

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

"... is there anything else that can be used? What will Maka do if she meets this situation?" she kept whispering, and Moody's roar seemed to be blocked by her.

Suddenly, her eyes flashed.

"Maka... Maka! That's right!"

Hermione immediately put her hand into her arms and took out the remaining two bottles of potions that Marca had given her for her birthday.

Then she quickly lifted one of the bottles of magic medicine and threw it at the monster with all her strength.

"Wow - Bang -"

A bright blue flame suddenly splashed out, like a burst of the sun, and burst into a dazzling and hot light in front of the black death.

Those flames that people can't look at directly attached to the magical black gas of the black death, and burned, turning the black death into a bright blue fireman.

Moody's eyes widened, clenched his teeth, waved his wand again and blasted it back a few steps, but the monster continued to rush here unconsciously.

"No use?"

Moody and Hermione both held their breath and stared at the monster, but they shook after running a few steps and slowed down at the same time.