HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

Hermione and Draco returned the day before school started.

After hearing about Harry's holiday, she was horrified that he had gotten out of bed and wandered around the school for three nights in a row, and she scolded him several times.

"What if Filch catches me!" she said, her face filled with lingering fear.

Draco, on the other hand, was beaming. "Didn't you guys notice anything?"

West was somewhat depressed.

During the rest of the Christmas holidays, he trained with the Patronus Charm twice more, but made little progress, and Snape's face grew increasingly gloomy.

Draco's words drew Harry and the others' attention, which pleased him greatly. "Didn't you notice Flint isn't here?"

Harry suddenly realized, "Oh right, he didn't go back to school?"

Seeing that Draco was still being coy, Hermione quickly pressed, "What's wrong with him?"

Draco then spoke up smugly, "My dad said he's in St. Mungo's now!"

"I don't know what happened to him, his skin is ulcerated! It's said that someone sprinkled toad poison powder on him—"

"He got what he deserved," Ron gloated. "Someone like him deserved it!"

"If you ask me—he's incredibly stupid—West! Are you even listening to me?!"

Draco, who was dragging out his mocking tune at Flint, noticed West staring blankly and called out in annoyance, "West! Are you even listening?"

West nodded casually.

Draco pouted in displeasure, then said, "If you ask me, the most annoying person right now is the Dean."

"Huh? Why?" The triggering of the keyword brought West back to his senses.

"It's because of this semester's Quidditch tournament! Flint is the captain, and now he's absent," Draco said with a look of disdain. "Although Flint's skills are average, our school's substitutes aren't good enough to replace him."

Westermor stroked his fingertips.

He had completely forgotten about it.

Given Snape's personality, a single loss to Slytherin would likely irritate him for a long time.

Although West didn't think Flint could lead Slytherin's Quidditch team to victory, especially after Harry joined Gryffindor's Quidditch team.

After all, Slytherin's Seeker is far inferior to Harry's.

Quidditch training will resume after the start of the new school year.

West heard Harry talk about how strict Wood was every day, and how he never stopped training, even during the continuous rainy days after a heavy snowfall.

There is no doubt that Harry took every training session seriously.

He was on Wood's side because if Gryffindor won another Quidditch match, they could defeat Slytherin in the House Cup Championship.

Harry was full of confidence for the Quidditch Cup, but was shocked when he heard that the referee was Snape, and almost fell off his broom.

"Oh my god! Snape will definitely find a reason to deduct points from Gryffindor."

Harry slumped on the table, looking dejected. "West, go find Snape and beg him to let me go..."

West gave Harry a disapproving look. "What are you thinking? The professor doesn't deduct points arbitrarily, unless Gryffindor actually broke the rules during the competition."

"Knowing you like Professor Snape, I won't say anything more," Harry patted his cheeks, perking up. "You're right! I won't let him have a chance!"

These past few days, Snape's face has been terribly dark, and he's seized every opportunity to deduct several more points from Gryffindor.

Slytherin Quidditch training is not progressing well, and Flint is estimated to be unable to return to school this semester.

The next morning, after Potions class, Snape asked West to stay behind.

Then, West followed Snape all the way back to the cellar.

Snape stopped and looked at him. "Rolanda said your flying grades were excellent, no less than Harry Potter's?"

West's brow twitched; he already knew what Snape was going to say.

"...Still a bit lacking compared to Harry, Professor."

"Stop your act of modesty," Snape said, a mocking smile playing on his lips, his black robes billowing a chilling acrid scent as he turned.

"Get to the Quidditch pitch before 3 PM. If I find you catching the Golden Snitch slower than a troll wiping its nose—"

"Don't call yourself my student outside," Snape threatened in a low voice.

"...Yes, Professor." West couldn't refuse Snape and had no choice but to nod in agreement.

He also needs to find a way to get a new flying broom, otherwise the school's old wooden brooms won't last a Quidditch match.

"...Take the flying broomstick next to the table with you before you leave," Snape suddenly whispered.

West picked up the broom and discovered it was actually a Nimbus 2000.

He looked up, a mischievous glint in his eyes, but his face betrayed clear doubt. "Professor, did you give this to me?"

"Take it away!" Snape said, somewhat annoyed and embarrassed.

In the afternoon, when West arrived at the Quidditch field on time, the Slytherin Quidditch team was almost all there.

Apart from a few Flint supporters who gave him the cold shoulder, everyone else treated him well.

There aren't many fools in Slytherin. Anyone can see that West is Snape's favorite student, even more so than Malfoy. They don't have the guts to go against the Headmaster.

The training went smoothly, and catching the Golden Snitch was not a difficult task for West.

Like Harry, he inherited James's exceptional Quidditch talent.

When he had nothing to do, West floated in the air, watching the Slytherins discuss and practice tactics. "These guys' tactics are really underhanded," West thought with a hint of disdain. "They've been corrupted by Flint."

But West had no right to interfere, after all, he wasn't the captain; and as a Seeker temporarily brought in by Snape to make up the numbers, he had no intention of interfering.

Harry was overjoyed to hear that West had joined Slytherin, which meant they would one day face off in Quidditch matches—a truly novel experience.

Ron and Draco were extremely envious.

Draco even impulsively asked Snape to let him join the Quidditch team, only to be sprayed with Snape's venom and left feeling utterly frustrated.

Draco was sulking, his whole body puffed up with anger, but Harry spent the afternoon playing Quidditch with him, which cheered him up.

The match is approaching.

Harry has been quite nervous lately. He keeps telling West that he runs into Snape no matter where he goes. Sometimes, he even suspects that Snape is following him and trying to catch him alone.

West didn't understand what Snape was up to, but he always believed in Snape. Seeing that Harry was depressed, he told Harry that their mother and Snape were friends.

"Maybe he's just protecting you, Harry," West said casually. "Professor Snape won't hurt us."

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief; he had never imagined there was this connection.

"No wonder, you were only following me, you were worried about me."

Seeing Harry begin to brainwash himself, West breathed a sigh of relief.

The following afternoon, Draco wished West good luck outside the locker room, "West, you have to win the match!" Draco frowned, "Otherwise, the House Cup might very well belong to Gryffindor!"

He tilted his head back arrogantly. "I don't want Harry to look good in front of me!"

West, who was wiping his new broom, smiled when he heard this.

"Don't worry," West said, his smile fading. "We will definitely uphold the Dean's honor."