HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

The short, stubby index finger, which was aggressive and adorned with pink nail polish, fell directly onto the cold ground and rolled twice before coming to a stop.

Umbridge froze, incredulously withdrawing her hand and examining it closely.

"--what!"

A harsh, pig-like scream suddenly burst from her throat.

However, the noise only lasted for half a second.

Nightingale gracefully waved her wand, and a silent silencing spell struck Umbridge precisely, silencing the pink toad's terrifying scream.

"Always maintain your elegance, madam!" Nightingale said calmly.

Umbridge looked around at the professors in horror, instinctively raising her hand to accuse them, but froze in mid-air—she then clearly realized that the index finger she used to point with was now gone forever.

The six professors watched the scene coldly, none of them stepping forward or trying to stop it. Even Professor Flitwick, who was usually the kindest, simply pursed his lips and silently looked away.

This is a tacit agreement.

Sagres lowered his eyelids, his face still bearing that unchanging, indifferent expression.

He casually tapped the severed finger on the ground with the tip of his wand, and it floated up, hovering in front of Umbridge, who was weeping and snotting.

“How careless of you, Ms. Umbridge…” His voice was flat, as if he were stating something trivial that had nothing to do with him. “You dropped something.”

This scene plunged the entire venue into an eerie silence, even Durmstrang students who were used to fierce duels held their breath.

The Hogwarts students stared wide-eyed, a chill running down their spines—Sagres's ruthless methods far exceeded their expectations.

The officials accompanying the Ministry of Magic were also completely terrified.

They never imagined that, at Hogwarts, which represents the highest level of the British magical community, such a blatant attack on a high-ranking official of the Ministry of Magic would occur in full view of everyone!

Several people felt their legs go weak and instinctively wanted to draw their wands, but under the cold gaze of Sagres, they froze on the spot, not daring to move.

“Sagres!” Karkaroff was the first to react. A fleeting, almost imperceptible gleam of pleasure crossed his gaunt face, but he immediately snapped, “You were too impulsive! How could you be so…disrespectful to an official of the Ministry of Magic!”

Mrs. Maxim let out a short gasp and covered her mouth with her handkerchief, but deep in her eyes, besides shock, there seemed to be a hint of indifference towards Umbridge's self-humiliation.

Beauxbatons' elegance does not mean they would sympathize with a power-abusing clown.

"enough!"

Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice not loud, but it instantly silenced all the whispers and tension.

His deep blue eyes first gave Sagles a stern look, then turned to Umbridge, who was on the verge of fainting.

“Mrs. Pomfrey, please take Dolores to the university hospital immediately and do everything you can to treat her!” Dumbledore’s tone left no room for argument.

The school doctor pursed her lips and strode forward.

With a flick of her wand, a gentle hemostatic spell landed on Umbridge's bleeding hand, temporarily stopping the wound.

She didn't touch the floating severed finger, but used her wand to control it to follow, and then half-helped, half-supported, or rather half-forcibly dragged Umbridge, who was still sobbing silently and limp all over, and quickly left the place.

Several terrified Ministry of Magic officials snapped out of their daze and stumbled after them.

Dumbledore turned to Sagrais, his voice regaining its calmness but carrying a heavy pressure: "Professor Greengrass, your actions have seriously crossed the line. It is an extremely serious matter for a Ministry of Magic official to be physically assaulted while performing his duties. You will need to provide the Ministry with a formal explanation after the tournament."

Sagras nodded slightly, tacitly agreeing, "No problem." But his face showed no remorse, only a cold indifference: "If they really need it, I will give them a 'reasonable' explanation."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Mrs. Maxim and Karkaroff, whose expressions varied, before finally looking at all the teachers and students.

"Gentlemen," he said in a loud voice, "the Ministry of Magic's security concerns have their merits, but the way they are implemented has clearly caused unnecessary friction and tragic consequences."

He cleverly used the term "accident" to characterize the matter, lightly brushing it off.

The professors and the two principals all seemed somewhat surprised, but they concealed it well.

"The Tri-School Joint Duel aims to foster exchange, learning, and a passion and reverence for dueling. No cumbersome procedures or restrictions should be an obstacle. The exhibition matches will proceed as planned. The first match will feature a spectacular and authentic magical duel between Severus Snape and Philius Flitwick! Now, let's clear the arena and prepare for the true magical feast!"

As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking, after a brief silence, a huge cheer erupted from the audience like a tsunami.

The Hogwarts students clapped, stomped their feet, and whistled wildly, releasing all the shock and fear they had just felt.

The students at Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were also caught up in the excitement, applauding and cheering.

Although a trace of blood and tension still lingered in the air, the gloom brought by Umbridge, along with the remains of her ridiculous "absolute safety shield," was completely dispelled by the cheers.

All eyes were once again focused on the arena, where Snape, dressed in black robes, and the diminutive Professor Flitwick had stepped into the dueling ring.

The towering duel stone monument shimmered with a faint light as the two professors made their choices almost simultaneously—random scenario!

The light and shadow on the stone tablet changed rapidly, finally settling on the "low wall ruins".

With a muffled rumble, the tall stone tablet sank into the ground the instant the arena scene selection was completed.

Then, countless vines and rocks rapidly grew, cracked, and piled up.

In an instant, the once pristine arena was transformed into a battlefield ruin weathered by time: broken stone pillars lay askew in the ground, dilapidated low walls, half a person's height, were jagged and broken, and the ground was covered with rubble and debris.

Everything was providing natural cover and traps for the upcoming showdown.

Chapter 132 Snape vs. Flitwick

Snape and Professor Flitwick locked eyes, and after a moment of silence, the two figures moved almost simultaneously.

Professor Flitwick suddenly waved his wand, and a dazzling blue spell tore through the air, flying rapidly toward Snape.

At the same time, his short body, like a spring compressed to its limit, sprang to the left with a "whoosh" and accurately disappeared behind a half-broken low wall.

The instant his figure disappeared, a scarlet stun spell, accompanied by a sharp whooshing sound, struck precisely where he had just stood.

Shards of rock flew everywhere, and Snape's speed was equally terrifying.

Professor Flitwick didn't stop. While still in mid-air, he pointed his wand again, this time not at Snape, but at an old, crumbling brick wall beside him.

"Torn apart!"

With a sharp, piercing shout, the brick wall exploded and shattered!

Smoke billowed into the sky. Professor Flitwick had barely landed when he stopped abruptly, then casually tilted his head, narrowly and precisely dodging a red spell from Snape.

At the same time, he pointed his wand at the flying pebbles from a distance.

"A volley of arrows!"

The flying pebbles seemed to come alive, twisting and stretching in an instant, transforming into hundreds and thousands of sharp stone arrows gleaming with a cold metallic light.

They paused briefly in the air, then, with a piercing shriek that tore through the air, they formed a dense rain of deadly arrows, pouring down upon Snape's location.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

The offensive was faster than anyone could have imagined!

The audience erupted in cheers, especially the young Ravenclaw wizards, who jumped up excitedly and shouted encouragement for their headmaster.

Just as Snape was about to be engulfed by the storm of arrows, his black robes remained perfectly still.

He didn't even raise an eyebrow; he simply drew a clean, powerful semicircle with his wand in front of him.

"Armor protects you!"

A condensed hemispherical iron armor spell instantly opened, enveloping his entire body.

Jingle bells!

A series of rapid impacts resounded as the stone arrows slammed into the Ironclad Curse, exploding into countless sparks and stone dust.

The cursed wall trembled violently, its surface rippling, but it ultimately managed to block all the arrows.

The Slytherin students immediately erupted in thunderous cheers, and the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang couldn't help but applaud and cheer as well.

Countless excited gazes and passionate emotions converged above the arena, as if condensing into tangible energy.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the dueling arena!

Fallen leaves and dust swirled and danced, but they did not obscure the view. Instead, they allowed each student to clearly capture every subtle movement of the two people in the arena.

This was the first time the students had experienced the effects of "cheers magic amplification" and "magic projection." The audience was not just spectators, but became part of the environment. The closer and clearer perspective than Quidditch made the impact of this match reach their very souls.

Professor Flitwick's offensive was relentless, wave after wave. He gave Snape no chance to catch his breath.

Just as the last few stone arrows shattered against the Ironclad Curse, he cast another Stunning Curse. Then, his short figure moved at high speed, using the low wall as cover, as fast as a blurry afterimage.

Snape blocked the cursed light without flinching, but Professor Flitwick swung his wand again, aiming directly at the ground beneath Snape's feet.

"Quicksand trap!"

The stone slab beneath Snape's feet softened instantly, transforming into a greedy vortex of quicksand, its powerful suction attempting to drag him underground.

Snape looked serious and reacted extremely quickly.

He pointed his wand downwards, and a tremendous force erupted instantly, not only counteracting the suction of the quicksand but also launching him backwards like a cannonball, completely escaping the trap's range.

But Professor Flitwick followed up with a counter-move, seemingly anticipating Snape's dodge direction.

In the instant Snape was thrown backward and hadn't even regained his footing, Professor Flitwick's small figure miraculously leaped high from behind a low wall, his wand emitting a blinding white light.

A series of gleaming magical missiles were fired at Snape.

The missiles spun in the air, forming a dense net that descended with unparalleled precision upon Snape's target.

The blinding light flashed incessantly, but Snape did not defend himself. Instead, he pointed his wand at an extremely tricky angle at the spot where Professor Flitwick would land after leaping up—where there happened to be a pile of sharp pebbles.

"Sand and stones flying everywhere!"

A powerful shockwave slammed into the pile of rubble.

boom!

The rubble was like being bombarded by a giant cannon, instantly transforming into a high-speed spray of shrapnel, carrying terrifying kinetic energy, and indiscriminately blasting towards the area where Professor Flitwick was about to land.

This was a purely physical impact, with a very large range, and there was no way to avoid it.

Snape's move, using offense as defense, was ruthless and precise, instantly turning the tide of the game!

Faced with the oncoming storm of debris, Professor Flitwick decisively abandoned his control over the network of light formed by interwoven missiles.

He displayed the astonishing adaptability of a former dueling champion. His wand spun rapidly in front of him, violently distorting the air before instantly forming a smooth, curved shield.

Puff puff puff!

Most of the debris struck the distorted air shield and was strangely deflected in all directions, while the few that slipped through were avoided by his extreme twisting movements.