Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 108 The Champion's Banquet and Power

The cruel Flint, in devising his poison bait tactic, never intended to poison only a small lion.

If Gryffindor cannot decisively cut off his arm to save his life, then George, who was taken off the broom by Derek, will become the real poison bait to lure them to their deaths one by one.

The so-called poisoned bait poisons emotions and catches people's hearts.

Of course, Vaughn would never admit that the part of this tactic that is similar to "besieging Wei to rescue Zhao" actually involved his own planning.

He's just an ordinary Slytherin player, responsible for executing tactics, not for taking the blame!

Seeing Fred chasing after them, Bol followed closely behind.

Amid Lee Jordan's desperate cries, Vaughn swung his broom and charged at Fred.

Lee Jordan screamed, almost covering his eyes: "Sure enough, Vaughn turned and charged at Fred. Poor Fred, he was sandwiched between them... He tried to dodge and go around, but he couldn't escape at all. Vaughn and Boll flew past him in a crisscross pattern."

"It was too fast! I couldn't even see what happened. I just saw Fred tumble off the broom... Merlin, there's no second Harry in the arena. Fred could only fall in despair."

"To make matters worse, Harry couldn't save George. He caught them, but the three of them were just too heavy, and Derek, that madman..."

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall's stern voice, barely containing her anger, rang out.

Lee Jordan grumbled twice indignantly, but didn't continue cursing: "...Derrick held George tightly, and George had to let go so as not to affect Harry."

"Oh—look, everyone! Headmaster Dumbledore himself stood up and recited 'Shock Stop'! Thanks to his powerful magic, Fred and George are unharmed, but I'm not happy at all, because they were eliminated by those despicable Slytherins!"

This time, Professor McGonagall didn't stop them. The Vice-Headmistress was furious. Slytherin had played too dirty, and what angered her even more was that Gryffindor's tactics weren't much cleaner.

These people are defiling the sacred Quidditch in her heart!

While such tactics aimed at reducing the number of players are common practice in official matches outside of school—modern Quidditch is much more conservative—in the past, fouling tactics were far more terrifying, almost resembling murder, such as using magic to turn opposing players into weasels, or attempting to chop off the goalkeeper's head…

Of course, the students weren't too happy about it, especially the Gryffindors. The little lions booed loudly from the stands, and some angrily threw things into the air, seemingly trying to knock the Slytherin team down.

The Slytherin stands weren't to be outdone, throwing all sorts of random things at the little lions.

If Dumbledore hadn't stood up again and shouted at them with a powerful, almost cursed voice, the fine tradition of England fans would probably have been repeated in the stands today.

Once the commotion subsided, Lee Jordan resumed his commentary: "There were a few minor issues with the audience just now. Now, let's get back to the game. Mrs. Hodge has made her ruling."

"Derrick committed a malicious foul and is disqualified from this match. Gryffindor is awarded two goal kicks. Bor committed a charging foul and is awarded one goal kick to Gryffindor."

"These rulings do nothing to ease our pain or make up for Gryffindor's current disadvantage. Although Slytherin committed a foul, according to the rules, Fred and George are no longer eligible to return to the field... Damn it, Mrs. Hodge should send Boll off too!"

Lee Jordan shouted indignantly.

But everyone knows that he can only talk big like that. After all, when Vaughn, Bohr and Fred passed each other before, although he couldn't see them very clearly, he could still judge their tactical movements.

They did not make any malicious actions such as pulling or kicking.

Most notably, the camera that was on the field for the first time provided strong evidence for Mrs. Hooch's ruling. The camera on Fred's broom clearly captured the image of Bor hitting Fred's broom handle with the tail of his broom.

There was no physical contact, so it was just a collision foul.

Looking at the images projected onto the giant screen in one corner of the court, Ron, who had just been competing with the Slytherins to see who could shout the loudest, cursed hoarsely and resentfully, "Despicable Slytherins, and despicable Vaughn..."

"Ronald!" Hermione glared at him, annoyed. "Vaughn was just following Flint's strategy. Look, he didn't commit any fouls on the replay!"

"That's because Bol has already done it. I don't believe he's some innocent lamb. I bet if Bol hadn't succeeded in harming Fred, he would have resorted to dirty tricks!"

Ron snorted, "Foolish little girl, she's blind to think Vaughn is some kind of good person."

What annoyed him was that there were too many silly little girls around him. For example, Hermione's roommate, Lavender Brown, had a big argument with Seamus Finnigan, insisting that Vaughn was so handsome that he must be a gentle boy who respected his older brother and cared for his younger brother, and would never do something as outrageous as that.

vomit!

I feel nauseous!

Amidst the commotion, the whistle blew again.

"Alright, that's the ruling. Mrs. Hooch has blown her whistle. Sigh, hopefully Gryffindor can get their mentality back on track soon..."

Lee Jordan's roused commentary, tinged with concern, prompted Mrs. Hodge to blow her whistle again, signaling the game to continue.

Once back in the air, the Gryffindor team members all looked pale and serious.

They glared angrily at their opponents, including Harry, who was also staring intently at Vaughn.

No one expected that after months of preparation, they would be beaten like this, and Harry was so remorseful that his eyes welled up with tears.

The scene of George being thrown down by Derek not long ago kept flashing before his eyes.

He kept thinking, if only he could have been faster, even faster.

Does that mean I can knock Derek over? Does that mean I can stop George?

But there is no if in reality.

The reality is that the tactics he and Wood had devised over a long period of time were a complete failure, a failure from the very beginning. When he swooped down on Derek, when he instinctively tried to save George, their tactics had already become a joke.

It was all because of him. He was tricked, and it was his subconscious action that led to Fred's elimination. Harry already understood why Vaughn flew around him back then. It was an offensive posture. Vaughn used that method to force someone from the Gryffindor team to come and save him.

Because he's the Seeker, he's more important than anyone else!

Looking at Harry across from him, whose eyes were red-rimmed, Vaughn had some doubts:

Did I make Savior cry?

Flint, you are truly wicked!

Flint, grinning with his buck teeth, had no idea that he had been unfairly blamed again.

He was still grinning smugly, his arrogant demeanor making it no wonder that Vaughn habitually shifted the blame onto him—he was just too hateful, with a naturally mocking face.

Seeing his smug expression, everyone in Gryffindor was holding their breath.

When Lady Hooch blows her whistle for the third time, it signals to Gryffindor to begin taking the three goal kicks (similar to a penalty kick).

Angelina, Aria, and Harry each get one chance.

In reality, besides goalkeeper Wood, there were only three of them left...

The three, their chests brimming with rage, didn't waste a single opportunity, swinging their fists and slamming the Quake into the Slytherin goal.

Gryffindor leads 30-10.

However, Gryffindor's supporters and commentator Lee Jordan were far from optimistic: "Gryffindor is out of options. They were already at a disadvantage against Slytherin, and now they've lost two batters. Their numerical disadvantage will only increase the difficulty of their defense and may even completely stifle their offense."

"Now we can only hope that Harry catches the Golden Snitch as soon as possible!"

Harry understood that his only hope for victory now was to catch the Golden Snitch and get 150 points directly.

He was also holding his breath, wanting to turn the tide.

But it was only after the competition resumed that he truly realized how painful it is to have one less player on your side in team competitions.

That damn Bolt was flying right next to him the whole time, occasionally hitting the ball to distract him, and Angelina and Aria couldn't spare any energy to help him.

Although he was the first to spot the Golden Thief 30 minutes later, he was unable to escape because he was constantly harassed by Bor.

He could only watch helplessly as Vaughn leisurely tore through the goal defense, helping Flint score another goal before turning around to chase the Golden Snitch, catching it without any pressure, and ending the game.

Final score:

Slytherin 260:30 Gryffindor

Shocking, a bloodbath!

For all Gryffindor supporters, those 30 minutes, and Gryffindor's stellar 30 minutes, were agonizing torture.

They witnessed firsthand how Gryffindor, now one player short, was toyed with like a pet by their arch-rivals Slytherin, who tore through their paper-thin defenses in all sorts of fancy ways and scored goals in various spectacular fashions.

Watching Wood struggle to get a chance to attack, and seeing Angelina and Aria, the two girls, barely getting any chance to attack, they could only become goalkeepers number 2 and 3, running around tirelessly.

And Harry was also running around like a headless fly!

This was the most desperate game they had ever seen, but no one could blame the Gryffindor team.

The two girls were so exhausted they were almost collapsing.

Wood and Harry weren't much better off; they were soaked to the bone, it was hard to tell if it was rain or sweat, and when Mrs. Hooch blew the final whistle, the two of them almost slipped off their brooms.

A cacophony of sighs erupted from the Gryffindor stands, while cheers erupted from the Slytherin stands. Someone called out Vaughn's name, and gradually more and more people joined in, including Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

Amidst the enthusiastic cheers and stares of the crowd, Vaughn slowly flew to Harry and extended his hand: "Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry would have given any other Slytherin a cold shoulder, but he couldn't bring himself to hate Vaughn; he just felt exhausted.

It's as if all the energy I've mustered over the past few months has suddenly vanished, leaving me listless and unsure of what expression to make.

He simply squeezed Vaughn's hand gently: "I'm alright..."

He paused, trying to appear more poised and magnanimous, and then, like an adult on TV, say something like, "Congratulations on winning the championship."

But Harry realized that he actually felt wronged and depressed and wanted to cry.

Then, he actually shed tears...

Vaughn watched as Harry, who was sobbing uncontrollably with tears streaming down his face, instinctively turned to look at Marcus Flint, who was waving his gorilla-like arms and grinning at the surrounding stands.

They really made the savior cry!

This is something even Voldemort couldn't do, Flint, you are truly... heinous!

……

Harry, who couldn't stop crying, was eventually dragged away by the twins—they were the only two in the entire Gryffindor team who still had energy because they had left the field early.

After the competition, Angelina and Aria were so exhausted that they couldn't even get off their brooms.

Professor McGonagall, feeling sorry for them, used magic to catch them and then arranged for the girls to help take them to the school hospital.

As for Wood.

This "veteran" whose dream has been shattered for the third time (Wood should have started as a goalkeeper in his third year) was left alone on the Quidditch pitch as the crowd gradually dispersed, getting soaked in the increasingly heavy rain, seemingly trying to drown himself.

No one cares about the various behaviors of the losers. Gryffindor, who are also losers, used to argue the loudest, but now they have fallen silent.

Most people can only see the winners.

All the little snakes spontaneously gathered around Vaughn and the others, and joyfully escorted them back to the Slytherin "sea view house." Then, the wealthy and powerful people in the house began preparing for the banquet.

For example, Malfoy!

This guy, who usually reacts like a mouse to a cat whenever he sees Vaughn, is walking arrogantly beside Vaughn today, boasting to everyone he meets about his relationship with Vaughn.

In fact, what he said did have some basis in fact. Since Vaughn entered Slytherin, apart from the team members and the unfortunate prefect who was knocked unconscious on the first day and didn't even deserve to be named, he was the only one who had the most contact with Vaughn.

Vaughn would even affectionately call him "Draco," a real honor among the many Slytherins who didn't even deserve to have names!

Malfoy donated all his pocket money today, about 50 Galleons, to ask the upperclassmen to prepare sweets and drinks for the dinner party at Hogsmeade.

He added obsequiously, with a hint of malice, "Vaughn, should I go and call Potter and Granger over too?"

Looking at this handsome, outwardly refined fellow, Vaughn almost wanted to dissect him to see if there was anything rotten inside.

That's too cruel. Harry was already crying from the beating, and you're still rubbing salt into his wounds?

What a beast!

The soft-hearted Vaughn naturally rejected this outrageous suggestion, only instructing, "No need to call anyone, just send a portion of the food to Harry; he probably won't be in the mood for dinner tonight."

Upon hearing this, Malfoy beamed with joy.

It doesn't matter whether Harry comes or not, as long as he can go up to the other party and mock him, he will be satisfied!

Malfoy left in high spirits, planning how to humiliate Potter later.

The other happy little snakes continued to huddle around Vaughn.

Whether it was genuine or feigned to please, at least they appeared to be having fun.

Vaughn was also very happy.

If he wins the match, barring any unforeseen circumstances, his main quest will be completed in a month. After a year of "hard work," he can finally improve his talent again.

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe.

Gryffindor failed, and although everyone knows that no one was at fault, from another perspective, one could say that everyone was at fault.

Although no one blamed him, their words of regret and pity pierced Harry's heart like knives.

"The fault doesn't lie with Harry. We can all see that his reflexes aren't as good as Vaughn's, his broom is inferior, and his physical abilities are even worse. Harry is too thin and small, while Vaughn is tall and strong..."

"Yes, Angelina and Aria can't fight against Flint and Psy either. There's nothing they can do about it. They've been trying their best to make amends, but the results aren't ideal."

"A tactical failure isn't a big deal. Over hundreds of years, how many tactics have all the Quidditch teams in the world developed? It's just a pity, we had a really good chance this year..."

Whispers like these could be heard constantly in the Gryffindor common room.

Before today, everyone always praised Harry's small stature, saying he was the perfect traditional Seeker.

They praised Angelina and Aria's agile movements on the court, saying they were as nimble as falcons.

These words from the past suddenly vanished on this night of defeat. Everyone whispering among themselves seemed to have transformed into Quidditch experts, picking out the mistakes that had previously gone unnoticed as evidence of the failure—the players' individual physical abilities were insufficient, their tactics were predictable and countered… It seemed perfectly reasonable that such a team couldn't win!

Harry wanted to cover his ears, not wanting to hear those words anymore.

But he dared not.

He dared not show his vulnerability and resistance. His previous crying on the court was already outrageous and shameful enough. He could not leave people with the impression that he was cowardly and escapist.

Because he is Harry Potter, the boy who survived, a hero and warrior in everyone's eyes!

But Harry actually avoided it; he sat on the sofa facing the fireplace so he wouldn't have to look at the people talking behind him.

The brain lock technique he had painstakingly learned over several months finally came in handy—it helped him quickly clear his mind and shift his focus.

"If Vaughn knew that I was using the Occlumency technique that he painstakingly taught me to do this, he would be very angry."

Harry thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile, then the name Vaughn that popped into his mind made him feel a pang of sadness.

Their opponents orchestrated their defeat, shattering Gryffindor's hopes of winning the House Cup again after many years—this is the main reason for the widespread discussion and a significant factor in Harry's earlier emotional breakdown on the pitch.

Even now, Harry still feels empty inside. He had worked hard for months and even saw hope, but it all vanished in the end. It's a feeling that's hard to describe.

Harry sat there in front of the cold fireplace. When someone came to talk to him, he would reply with a few words. When no one came, he would just sit there in a daze. During this time, he seemed to hear someone say that Malfoy was loitering outside Gryffindor and wanted to invite him to some kind of dinner party.

Harry ignored him. The little lion, utterly disappointed and desperate to vent his frustration, was about to teach the foolish Malfoy what anger truly meant!

He sat there in front of the fireplace from day to night.

As darkness fell, he overheard some classmates saying, "Slytherin is having a party! Those wretched creatures!"

Harry, lost in thought, suddenly remembered the small party the school held to welcome him when he first joined the Quidditch team last year.

That was the most glorious moment of his life in the past ten years. He enjoyed that feeling, not because of vanity, but because for the first time in his life, he realized that he was not a piece of trash that was despised, and that he could be needed.

Harry's obsession with victory likely stemmed from this. In essence, Harry didn't consider himself a competitive person; otherwise, he wouldn't have spent his days slacking off with Ron and ending up at the bottom of the class.

His desire to defeat Slytherin and win the House Cup probably began on that day.

It's a pity, all hope has been shattered.

I wish I could turn back time and start all over again.

Harry thought to himself, unwillingly, "Is there any way to salvage this situation?"

He continued to stare blankly until Ron and Hermione returned from the restaurant, bringing him some fried cod, chips, and pies.

Hermione brought over the food she had brought back and urged, "Harry, have some. You didn't eat lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat a little bit. Do you want to be like Wood? Angelina said he sat on the field all day and fainted from hunger in the evening. He had low blood sugar, and Mrs. Pomfrey gave him a whole bottle of magic potion."

Madam Pomfrey's potions were still quite intimidating. Harry took the fried cod and mechanically stuffed it into his mouth.

Seeing his friend's lifeless appearance, Ron tried to cheer him up by talking about Malfoy's misfortune: "Malfoy is finished this time. Harry, that stupid pretty boy, actually dared to come to Gryffindor to provoke them. I don't know which upperclassman put a Confusion Charm on him, but he went to Quirrell's office and made a huge scene."

"I heard he smashed Quirrell's medicine jar, Quirrell was furious, and Professor McGonagall was furious too. As punishment, they made Malfoy do community service for Quirrell. How gratifying!"

At this point, Ron sneered, "If Quirrell, that man in black, could cast a curse on Malfoy, that would be even better!"

Harry, who had been lost in thought, suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

He quickly swallowed the tasteless cod in his mouth, looked around, pulled Ron and Hermione to sit beside him, and whispered, "I was suddenly thinking, if we stopped Quirrell from stealing the Philosopher's Stone, wouldn't that count as protecting school property?"

Hermione was a little confused, but still nodded: "Of course it counts."

"Well..." Harry nervously swallowed, "Since we protected school property, shouldn't the school give us some kind of reward?"

"..."

Hermione was momentarily speechless, but Ron's eyes lit up at the mention of a reward: "Yeah, I didn't even realize that until you mentioned it! The Philosopher's Stone is so valuable; even setting aside its ability to grant immortality, its ability to turn lead into gold is incredible. If we protect it, the school should at least give us a reward, right?"

"I don't ask for much, just a few hundred ounces of gold will do!"

"Stop dreaming." Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, speechless.

He frowned at Harry again: "Why did you suddenly think of that? Your vault is probably overflowing with Galleons!"

Now it was Harry's turn to be confused: "How did you know?"

He's not one to flaunt his wealth; he'd only casually mentioned to his friends before that he'd inherited some money.

Hermione's expression was calm: "Vaughn said it. He said the Potters are very rich. Potter shampoo was developed by your grandfather. He sold the company for a large sum of money before your father was born, enough for several generations to live a very wealthy life."

Ron watched with envy.

Listening to Hermione's words, Harry suddenly realized that he knew less about the Potter family than others did.

However, that's not the focus right now.

Harry lowered his voice: "The reward I want isn't money, of course, but something money can't buy, like... getting Dumbledore to add a few hundred points to Gryffindor's grades, that shouldn't be too much to ask, right?"

"No, absolutely not!"

"I was just making a suggestion, an idea, Hermione. Don't you think several hundred points is too much? We can discuss how many points would be reasonable..."

"This isn't about dividing the spoils too much or too little!"

At this moment, the trio was locked in a stalemate by the Black Lake.

When Harry realized that Hermione disagreed with his ideas, he quickly pulled her out of the castle to prevent them from arguing and letting everyone inadvertently reveal the truth in public.

Harry was puzzled as to why Hermione disagreed: "If it's not because it's too much, what else could it be?"

Hermione's originally fair face flushed crimson as she tried to explain, "Harry, Quirrell is a bad guy, he did bad things. Conversely, exposing him is doing a good deed. How can doing good... how can it be mixed with self-interest?"

Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances, not quite understanding.

In truth, Hermione couldn't articulate a very clear reasoning; she was just a child, as she herself said.

Quirrell is a bad guy who does bad things, so opposing him is naturally doing a good thing.

A typical black-and-white view of good and evil, a simple and honest view of right and wrong.

In Hermione's simple-minded view, good deeds should be pure and free from any self-interest, but she felt it was inappropriate to apply this standard to Harry and Ron.

Unable to articulate a reason, and lacking the confidence to refute, the atmosphere became somewhat tense for a moment.

In the end, Hermione was defeated by Harry's attempt to play the victim.

Under the bright moonlight, Harry said sincerely, "Hermione, what I want is not any benefit, just house points. You saw it today, everyone is in low spirits. Gryffindor hasn't touched the House Cup in seven years."

"For us, this is only the first year, so we don't really understand yet. But what about the upperclassmen? They've come this far year after year, filled with disappointment, especially the seventh graders, who have experienced seven years of despair... Hermione, I don't want them to leave school with regrets!"

In the end, Harry was moved by his own words, even though that was truly what he thought.

"..."

Hermione paused for a moment, then finally gave up, but she raised another, more important question: "Have you thought about how to expose Quirrell? Before, we didn't care when Quirrell stole the Philosopher's Stone, but what about now? What if he keeps holding back, until summer vacation, until we're in our second or third year? What are you going to do then?"

"Uh..." Harry was dumbfounded, and Ron was also stunned.

They really hadn't considered this issue.

If Quirrell is really that patient, even if he exposes it, it won't matter this year. Who knows if he can get this close to the Academy Cup in the future?

"snort!"

Hermione snorted coldly. She had long seen through Harry and Ron; they thought about things based solely on passion, with almost no brains involved.

After racking their brains for a long time, the two still couldn't come up with a good solution.

Harry stared blankly at the dark lake under the night sky, while Ron muttered, "We're not Quirrell's worms, how would we know what he's up to? Sigh, if only we could tell fortunes!"

Harry had another flash of inspiration: "Wait, fortune telling...?"

Ron, already used to Harry's ignorance of magical "common sense," explained, "There are real prophets in the wizarding world, Harry, like Trelawney, the Divination teacher at Hogwarts, whose ancestors were world-renowned prophets."

But this time it was beyond his expectations.

“I know about fortune-telling, Ron,” Harry said. “I’ve read about it in books.”

Hermione and Ron stared at Harry in surprise. Although they didn't say anything, their meaning was clear—you can actually read books?

Pretending not to see, and to hide his embarrassment, Ha said, "Besides, I know where to find a fortune teller!"

"where?"

Harry rose and looked towards the distant forest, edged with silver by the moonlight, which only made it appear even darker:

"In the Forbidden Forest!"

……

The Slytherin celebrations continued into the night.

Nearly 80% of Slytherin's students come from pure-blood families. In the modern wizarding world, pure-blood families, once synonymous with power, may not necessarily still retain their power and authority, but they are certainly wealthy.

A group of wealthy heirs used money to pave the way for a lavish banquet.

They ordered a large quantity of magical fireworks from Zoko's Joke Shop, then lit them in Slytherin's Great Hall. Several phantom fire dragons, their bellies constantly exploding with flames, flew around the Great Hall, serving as lanterns.

A group of sparkling sparklers danced enthusiastically or comically on the table.

There's also butterbeer and pumpkin juice, which are always a staple at parties, and some upperclassmen even secretly buy alcohol (butterbeer is a beverage).

Everyone had a great time.

Of course, for some students, the purpose of organizing this celebratory dinner was not for fun.

"...The wolfsbane potion can be considered the most important magical achievement of the 20th century. For thousands of years, the problem of werewolves has plagued the magical world. It was not until you developed the wolfsbane potion that we saw hope for a solution to this age-old problem."

"And then there's the 'Werewolf Affairs Committee,' which unites the werewolves. This is a feat that no one has accomplished in a thousand years. I must say, the Order of Merlin, Class 2, is simply not worthy of your actions and achievements."

In the center of the auditorium, several seventh-grade students, holding wine glasses, surrounded Vaughn, spouting the kind of sycophantic flattery typical of adult society, acting like elite aristocrats attending a cocktail party.

In seventh grade, at 18 years old, according to the English concept of coming-of-age ceremony at 16, this age is no longer considered a child. Once they graduate from school, it means they will officially leave the ivory tower and enter a completely different level.

From then on, their world was no longer just about studying; they had to consider survival, work, and starting a family.

So, although they haven't graduated yet, the mindset of these seventh-grade students has already begun to change.

Previously, Slytherin graduates had only two paths: one was to follow the family's arrangements and enter the family business to study and strive. The drawback of this path was that it was difficult to stand out, as the magical world had limited market resources, and not all of them were from the direct lineage.

Apart from individuals like Draco Malfoy, who have been the only son in his family for generations and have no competitive pressure, most students with pure-blood backgrounds actually only have that background; they are still at the bottom of their families.

Another option is to apply to the Ministry of Magic, which sets aside some positions each year to recruit graduates from Slytherin House.

This can be considered an unspoken rule that emerged after the peaceful evolution of 1707: pure-bloods would voluntarily dissolve the Wizarding Council, allowing the Ministry of Magic to rule the wizarding world, with pure-bloods cooperating in the rule and then sharing some of the power—a win-win situation!

This path was also the mainstream choice for Slytherin graduates in the past.

Compared to wallowing in family affairs and wasting one's life, the Ministry of Magic at least offers a chance to rise to prominence.

But now they've realized there's a new option!

(End of this chapter)