A magical journey that begins at Hogwarts

Playing Quidditch relies on talent, and Harry's talent is greater than yours—that's an undeniable fact.

Moreover, his experience is quite extensive, which is the biggest difference between you and him.

Most importantly, how bad can the Nimbus 2000 be compared to the Nimbus 2001?

Draco frowned upon hearing this. "That means the odds of winning the game aren't as high as we thought."

“You could say that, but there’s a way to increase the win rate to over 80%,” Aaron said after a moment’s hesitation. “It just depends on whether you’re willing to do it.”

“Tell me about it,” Draco said dismissively. “My father will be at Hogwarts on the day of the match, so I absolutely cannot lose.”

“It’s simple.” Aaron held up one finger. “One word: delay.”

Chapter 152 Rare Materials Are Hard to Obtain

"Delay?" Draco paused for a moment before realizing what he meant. "You mean you want me to stall for time?"

“That’s right!” Aaron nodded. “The key to Quidditch is the Golden Snitch. Catching it will earn you 150 points and also mean the end of the game.”

However, this doesn't mean the other team members are just for show. As long as their score exceeds the opponent's by more than 150 points, even if the opponent manages to steal the Golden Snitch, they'll only have lost more gracefully.

Upon hearing this, Draco's expression shifted repeatedly, and he hesitated for a moment.

This tactic is very sound. He is self-aware; his flying talent is indeed slightly inferior to Harry Potter's, and his equipment advantage is not significant either.

However, he was quite confident that he could hold Harry back during the match and prevent him from stealing the Golden Snitch.

The remaining chasers and batters, with the speed of the Nimbus 2001, could easily surpass their opponents by 150 points or even more, but he just felt unwilling to accept it.

Having finally become a Seeker in Slytherin and able to compete against the famous Harry Potter, he could only win through such a less-than-honorable means, and even if he won, he wouldn't feel much sense of accomplishment.

Seeing Draco's expression, Aaron knew what he was thinking and chuckled, "If we can't beat them in a head-on confrontation, then we can only work on tactics."

Draco's lips twitched. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Don't misunderstand, I didn't mean that."

Your flying talent is already quite good for the Quidditch team. With some training and your speed advantage, you might be able to beat Harry Potter.

However, this takes time and carries some risk; the odds are 50/50.

My idea may not make you shine like a star, but it can help you win the game.

Of course, I'll give you the method, but you can decide for yourself which one to choose.

Draco frowned in thought, two little figures appearing in his mind.

If he's given the option to choose A, and fortune favors the bold, then even with a 50% chance of success, it's worth taking the risk.

He could choose option B; as long as he could win, it didn't matter whether he got to show off or not.

"By the way, you just said that Mr. Lucius will also be coming to Hogwarts to watch the game?"

"What if, I mean what if, he saw that a lot of money had been invested in the Slytherin team, but his good son had lost to Harry Potter? I wonder what he would think."

Draco shuddered at the thought of his father's worried face.

The villain who advocated for option B suddenly unleashed a deadly curse on the villain who suggested option A, obliterating him completely.

“I know what to do,” Draco said in a deep voice. “The result is what matters most.”

Aaron's lips curled up slightly; all his efforts had been worthwhile.

"Congratulations, you made the right choice."

Draco wasn't particularly excited; in fact, he seemed somewhat disheartened. "The tactic is fine, but won't Flint and the others have objections?"

“Tell them that it was me who said it,” Aaron said domineeringly. “Marcus may be simple-minded and have a bad temper, but he knows better than anyone how to make the right choice, otherwise he wouldn’t be the captain.”

"I can rest assured that."

Time flies when you don't have to go to class, and before you know it, it's evening.

Aaron was engrossed in drawing a magic circle alone in his dormitory, but this time he didn't use paper or pen; instead, he used his wand to draw it in the air.

It took a full half minute for a green magic circle the size of a manhole cover to be drawn.

A hurricane erupted from the magic circle, blowing his desk to the corner of the wall.

"It feels pretty good," Aaron murmured, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

This was the first time he had ever drawn a magic circle without using any physical objects, relying solely on his own magic power. Although it took a bit longer, he succeeded at least.

He usually practices on paper, carefully controlling the input of magic.

Each practice session uses less than a fraction of magical energy, so neither type of magic circle will have any noticeable effect.

But this time he increased the amount of magical energy he input, using about ten points of magical energy to summon a hurricane that could move a desk.

"If the magical energy input were increased several times more, this bedroom might be torn apart by a hurricane!" Aaron thought to himself. However, he could also sense that with his magic power as a novice mage, this was the most he could do without any materials. Moreover, he would need to spend more time inscribing a magic circle according to this standard.

If you want to increase the power of the magic circle on this basis, you'll probably have to use some special drawing materials.

"I wonder how much the power of a wizard's blood can be amplified." Aaron looked down at his palm, and the thought involuntarily popped into his mind.

But the next moment he cleared the terrible thought from his mind. He wasn't about to harm himself over such a trivial matter; he could always go back and ask his ancestor, Wicht.

Even assuming that blood must be used for experiments, it can't be one's own blood; it has to be other wizards' blood...

That won't do either. Although he has a great desire for power, he knows that certain bottom lines must never be crossed, because behind those bottom lines often lies an abyss.

Thinking of this, Aaron shuddered, then took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

Just then, Abe ran up to him, took out a loaf of bread and a few oranges from his pocket.

"Thanks, I do need to replenish my energy." Aaron patted Abe's head, then suddenly realized something and stared intently at the adorable white pet.

He dared not even think about using a wizard's blood, but perhaps he could try using a pet's blood.

Abe is a sacred dragon, a dragon king among dragons, and its blood is far more valuable than that of a wizard.

Seeing its owner's eager gaze, the adorable pet couldn't help but shiver and took a step back.

Seeing this, Aaron, somewhat amused and exasperated, placed it on the bed, then asked it in a serious tone, "If your master encounters trouble and needs you to make a small sacrifice, would you be willing?"

Abe nodded decisively without hesitation.

"Very good, then could you lend me some of your blood?"

Abe paused for a moment, but its intelligence kicked in, and it immediately understood what Aaron wanted its blood for.

It didn't hesitate, but resolutely shook its head, muttering, "I won't lend it."

"You hypocritical dragon cub, it's just a little blood."

What's there to be reluctant about?

"This little dragon is only one year old and is afraid of pain."

Upon hearing this, Aaron's face darkened.

It's true that Abe is one year old, but he spent a lot of magic points on it, feeding it until it reached the level of a high-level mage. When it transforms, it's over three meters tall. And yet he calls it a baby.

"You really won't lend it to me?"

Abe squatted on the bed, crossed his arms with his front paws, and turned his head to the side. "No."

"What if I really insist!"

Abe was silent for two seconds, then silently extended its right paw. It didn't say anything, but just looked at its owner with teary eyes.

"Hiss!" Aaron gasped, suddenly feeling as if his heart had been struck hard.

Who could stand this?! It's a crime to hurt such a cute creature.

"I was just joking, it's not that serious."

Abe nodded sadly, but quickly withdrew its paw.

"This acting..." Aaron clicked his tongue. "Forget it, I won't try anything with you again."

Abe immediately stopped crying and started laughing, a few tears falling onto the bed.

Aaron's eyes lit up. He had heard that the tears of a phoenix could heal injuries, so perhaps the tears of a holy dragon would also have special effects.

"Um... I don't want the blood, but could I have the tears?"

"No!" Abe crossed his arms again and roared in the dragon language, "I never thought my beloved master would abuse a pet."

"If it doesn't work, then forget it." Aaron was speechless. He couldn't get blood or tears, so all he had left was saliva.

This liquid doesn't require consulting Abe; just put a plate of meat in front of it, and it will have as much as it wants.

The problem is, he's not so desperate as to use saliva as a material to inscribe magic circles.

Aaron lay down on the bed, held Abe in his arms, and tried to soothe its emotions.

It's just raw materials, maybe not that complicated. We don't have the blood of the Holy Dragon, but we can still get the blood of the Fire Dragon.

I'll write to Genes after a while and ask him to send some over.

The man and the dragon drifted off to sleep, but Aaron was woken up just a few hours later.

He looked at Abe, who was on guard, and asked with some concern, "Did you have a nightmare?"

I'm sorry, I might have scared you tonight, but it was really a joke.

You know me; even if you were willing, I wouldn't use your blood and tears for experiments.

Abe shook his head and growled, "I heard some terrible noises."

Aaron frowned, sat up in bed, and carefully looked around his single room, but found nothing unusual.

"Did you hear that correctly?"

“I heard you right,” Abe replied in Dragon Language. “Disgusting, horrible, cold, not human.”

Aaron shuddered slightly, then calmed himself down to listen to his own feelings, but even with his superhuman physical abilities, he could only hear his own breathing and heartbeat.

"You must be having a nightmare, I didn't hear anything."

“The sound only lasted for a short while, so it’s normal that you couldn’t hear it, Master,” Abe murmured.

Aaron didn't seem to mind and lay back down. "I admit you scared me, but I'm tired now and want to sleep."

You too, get some rest, we can talk about it tomorrow.