However, to her surprise, Professor Snape, who used to always mock Neville, was strangely silent after seeing this mace and said nothing.
It wasn't until after class that he asked Neville a question, "Where did you get that thing?"
Neville bravely looked at Snape, "My friend Karl, he gave it to me as a gift."
Snape:
Although it was strange that these two vastly different people could become friends, considering their performance in Potion Class, it seemed to make some sense.
He subconsciously touched his hair, "Alright, Mr. Longbottom, I hope your Potion skills won't be affected."
After Snape left, Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately rushed over and surrounded Neville.
"That's incredible! He actually spoke to you normally!"
Hermione's eyes widened in shock; she had thought Neville was going to be scolded by Snape again.
Ron's attention was entirely on the mace, his envy evident, his eyes filled with longing.
"When did you become friends with Karl O'Laughlin? I want a gift like that too!"
If he had Karl's mace, he definitely wouldn't be afraid of spiders anymore.
Harry adjusted his glasses, thinking about whether to tell Snape that he was also Karl's friend, perhaps then he wouldn't target him anymore.
Neville quickly hugged the mace to his chest. Other things were fine, but this one absolutely could not be shared.
After leaving the Potion Class classroom, Neville bid farewell to the trio and headed to the greenhouse behind the Castle.
Although his performance in Potions was terrible, his talent for Herbology was excellent.
Coupled with Professor Sprout being a kind and gentle Witch, Neville would go to the greenhouse to help even when he didn't have class.
For him, the happiest thing at Hogwarts was taking care of the plants.
Upon arriving at the greenhouse, Neville found that Professor Sprout had not yet finished class, so he walked to a more distant spot and idly swung the mace around.
However, not long after, he heard the question for the second time: "Where did you get that thing?"
Startled, Neville looked in the direction of the voice and saw an old Wizard sizing him up.
He recognized this person, the school's groundskeeper, Gotz Grindelwald, who was rumored to have also served as a Defense Against the Dark Arts Class Professor.
"Hello, Professor Grindelwald, this was given to me by Karl."
Neville scratched his head, feeling like he had said this many times already.
"Oh? Why did that brat give it to you?"
Grindelwald looked at Neville, who was somewhat timid under his gaze, feeling a bit annoyed.
After Neville explained the situation, Grindelwald couldn't help but sneer.
"Come with me!"
Neville, not daring to refuse, had no choice but to follow Grindelwald through the vegetable patch to the small hut by the Black Lake.
"Do you see that?"
Neville looked in the direction Grindelwald pointed, and his jaw dropped at the sight of numerous maces densely stuck into the ground.
"So—so many!"
Grindelwald gestured with his hands in front of his chest, "No one! Understands maces better than me! I made them all!"
"Do you, kid, know how to use this thing? Were you dancing there just now?
"If you lose a fight in the future, it's not just that brat Karl's face you'll lose, but mine too!"
Raising his hand to summon a mace, Grindelwald squinted at Neville.
"Now! I'll teach you how to fight!"
Neville: (:)
"Ah? Professor Grindelwald, isn't this inappropriate?"
Grindelwald laughed, "Don't worry, I've enchanted all the maces. While they hurt like hell when they hit, they won't cause serious injuries. Otherwise, would that brat let you use it to hit people?"
"Watch closely! Maces are all about brute force, heavy and powerful, overwhelming with strength. A twelve-foot Troll would be on the ground instantly after one swing!"
"Come! Do the movements with me! One-two-three-four, two-two-three-four, three-two-three-four, and again."
In the clearing by the Black Lake, the young Wizard followed the old Wizard, swinging maces.
This scene utterly stunned Karl from afar. What was happening?
He had only intended to annoy the old man, but he hadn't expected the old man to be training Neville for a new profession.
Was a perfectly good Gryffindor Sword Saint going to become a Gryffindor Mace Saint?
Is this—is this right?
Karl crossed his arms over his chest, his brows tightly furrowed.
This matter should have nothing to do with him; it was all that old man Grindelwald's fault.
However—he suddenly started looking forward to the Quidditch match a few days later.
Mace Saint's debut! A must-see!
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