Kirk and Cedric moved in unison, one on the left, the other on the right, launching their spells simultaneously at Quirrell.
"Confringo!"
"Stupefy!"
Faced with the sudden attack, Quirrell swiftly raised his wand. The water serpent that had been entangled with Wentworth's fire serpent surged into the sky, carrying the flames along with it.
Now free to act, Quirrell flicked his wand to both sides, effortlessly neutralizing Kirk and Cedric's spells.
Quirrell's eyes widened as he turned to Cedric, his voice laced with disbelief.
"That's not a spell I taught you! A third-year at Hogwarts shouldn't be capable of this!"
Cedric, who had been momentarily discouraged by Quirrell's ease in dispelling their combined attack, straightened his back at the accusation and retorted,
"Surprised, Professor Quirrell? This will be the last time I call you 'Professor.' I must say, your teaching skills are as pathetic as you are!"
"Diffindo!"
Another spell shot toward Quirrell, while Kirk moved swiftly, casting a series of disruptive spells to create an opening for Cedric's attack.
Working in perfect synchrony, Kirk and Cedric pressured Quirrell, who, though formidable, found himself unable to gain the upper hand.
Meanwhile, Wentworth led Harry and Hermione towards the spot where Cassandra was bound.
Seeing the magical battle unfold before them, with spells streaking across the air, Harry and Hermione, who had never witnessed such a duel before, were left utterly speechless.
"Is this what a battle between top-tier wizards looks like?" Hermione muttered in awe.
Without turning his head, Wentworth corrected her, "Top-tier wizards? You've got it wrong, Hermione. This is merely a fight between two exceptional students and a mediocre professor."
"Voldemort hasn't regained his strength yet, which is why he needs to possess Quirrell's body. If the Dark Lord were at even half his full power, we would already be dead."
Hearing this, Harry swallowed nervously.
Through rapid maneuvering, Kirk had now positioned himself behind Quirrell. With Cedric in front and Kirk at his back, they had Quirrell effectively surrounded.
For any teacher, seeing their students excel should have been a source of pride. But Quirrell felt no such sentiment. Instead, he was filled with fear—especially as he realized Cedric and Kirk's abilities far surpassed what he had achieved at their age.
As he processed this unsettling realization, the voice of his master, Voldemort, roared from the back of his head.
"Fool! Look at Wentworth! If you let him rescue that girl from Slytherin, tonight will be a complete failure!"
Even Voldemort couldn't help but sneer, "A Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, being pushed back by two of his own students—pathetic!"
Quirrell wanted to explain that these two were no ordinary Hogwarts students who crammed last-minute for exams. But he knew all too well that Voldemort had no interest in excuses.
More importantly, Quirrell had a bigger problem—stopping Wentworth.
With a determined flick of his wand, he swiftly deflected another round of spells from Kirk and Cedric. Then, instead of counterattacking as before, he used his speed advantage to cast a defensive spell upon himself:
"Protego!"
Using the brief window of protection, Quirrell charged toward Wentworth, bracing against the incoming attacks from Kirk and Cedric.
As a former Ravenclaw, Quirrell's quick thinking was commendable, but his plan soon hit a snag.
Seeing Quirrell shield himself, Kirk continued his relentless barrage of spells to slow him down. But Cedric changed tactics. Taking a deep breath, he pointed his wand at Quirrell's path and cast:
"Expelliarmus!"
A simple Disarming Charm—nothing special. But as Professor Lupin had once remarked, Cedric possessed magical reserves far beyond his peers.
With an overwhelming surge of magical power, Cedric's spell struck Quirrell's shield. The force of it caused visible ripples across the protective barrier.
Quirrell was stunned. Time and again, Kirk and Cedric had exceeded his expectations tonight.
Realizing Cedric was preparing to strike again, Quirrell was forced to halt his advance, focusing instead on countering Cedric's next attack.
He knew full well that his shield wouldn't withstand another Disarming Charm of that magnitude. If Cedric managed to knock his wand away, judging by how well Kirk and Cedric had fought, he likely wouldn't leave the Forbidden Forest alive.
Voldemort, however, cared little for Quirrell's fate. He knew that getting Wentworth to submit was now nearly impossible—they had underestimated these rising stars of Hogwarts.
But at the very least, they couldn't leave empty-handed. More than that, Voldemort refused to leave without dealing with Harry Potter.
"You imbecile! It's just a Disarming Charm! Get to Wentworth! Harry is there! Even if we can't stop Wentworth from rescuing Cassandra, we must at least take Harry Potter! Or better yet… kill him!"
Quirrell hesitated, glancing between the incoming spells and Voldemort's ruthless command.
If he ignored Kirk and Cedric's attacks, he might just reach Wentworth and even land a strike on Harry.
But that would mean getting struck down immediately after—he wouldn't survive. And Wentworth hadn't even joined the battle yet!
At that moment, Wentworth, along with Harry and Hermione, reached the spot where Cassandra was bound.
However, between them stood a towering wall of fire—Quirrell's handiwork.
Wentworth raised his wand.
"Finite Incantatem!"
The flames did not waver.
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