The shield was flimsy alright. It was the first one James remembered in a rush, and it did nothing against the green whip of light that licked the edges of his shield first and then pressed through, slashing him across his front. An angry red mark rushed from the tip of his chin and down to his throat, all the way to his sternum.

He gave a yelp as he was thrown back. He twisted around, stumbling, aiming a simple "Bombarda!" somewhere towards Tom, not knowing whether it would hit or not.

The problem with bombarda is that it has no other use but harm doing. The blast that his wand spelled backwards onto himself as well was enough to knock him off his feet and throw him several meters backward under the long table.