HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

As night fell, the camp came alive with activity as everyone got ready to welcome the grand Quidditch World Cup.

Walking along the street, you can see all sorts of stalls selling handicrafts related to the competition.

"Do you like it?" West picked up a panoramic telescope and turned to ask Snape.

The wizard vendor was enthusiastically promoting his wares: "Full-view replay! Slow-motion breakdown! Only ten Galleons!"

Snape stood to the side, arms crossed, and let out a cold laugh through his snort. "What do you think?"

"Okay, two I'll take." West paid the money readily.

Snape was speechless and frozen.

After strolling around for a while, the two unexpectedly came across a stall selling potion ingredients.

"Top-quality South African salamander blood," Snape said, picking up a small bottle and carefully examining the liquid's color. "How much?"

"Not easy to get, 500 Galleons, no bargaining," the stall owner said lazily.

After buying what he wanted, Snape felt much better.

At that moment, the deep sound of gongs and drums came from the distance in the woods, and thousands of lights lit up on the trees, illuminating the road leading to the stadium.

Thousands of people were walking around here, laughing and chatting, their fervent enthusiasm infecting everyone.

Except for Snape. He moved with difficulty through the crowd, avoiding contact with others and unable to blend into their laughter, even regretting coming here.

Snape felt someone grab his wrist, and with a dark expression, he tried to struggle free when a familiar voice sounded beside him.

"Severus, come here."

Snape gave up struggling and let West pull him into a small magical barrier. The transparent, circular barrier enveloped them, blocking out the surrounding noise, leaving only the scent of West's cedar perfume lingering in his nostrils.

A peacock in full regalia. Snape thought to himself, "A peacock dressed in finery."

"Are you feeling better?" West practically half-embraced Snape, lowering his head to ask, his beautifully shaped lips very close to Snape's nose.

Snape slowly realized that he was no longer resisting West's embrace. His stiff limbs relaxed, and he nodded in resignation.

And so, the two of them arrived at a huge stadium.

The witch at the entrance inspected their tickets. "First class tickets, please go to the top!"

West led Snape to the highest point of the stadium and into a small box. There were about twenty gilded purple seats arranged in two rows, and they were empty at the moment.

Snape and West sat in the front row and waited for a long time, but the box still only contained the two of them.

Snape looked at West, who understood immediately, and said, "I've booked this box." He seemed incredibly extravagant.

"I hope the Somerset and Potter families' wealth accumulated over the years can withstand your extravagance," Snape said.

West leaned closer, a smile playing on his lips. "If I'm broke, will you take care of me, Severus?"

"I can't afford to support you." Snape said coldly, reaching out to push West's head away.

At that moment, the door to the private room opened, and a stocky, short man walked in, wearing a fine-lined suit, accompanied by Caspard Somerset.

This man was none other than Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

"Lord Somerset, it's an honor to meet you." Fudge smiled and bowed to West. His eyes flashed with surprise as he looked at Snape. "Oh, Professor Snape, I didn't expect to see you here."

West stood up and stood in front of Snape.

He was tall, almost completely blocking Snape's view, and a faint smile played on his lips. "Minister Fudge, it's an honor to meet you."

After some feigned pleasantries, Fudge was eager to glean some information about Somerset, but West was a slippery snake when it came to words, and he was destined to leave empty-handed.

Fudge gave an awkward smile, intending to leave immediately. "Then enjoy the game, Your Excellency Somerset."

Caspard nodded respectfully to West and then left with Fudge.

"When did you get involved with him?" Snape asked.

West sat down next to Snape and said tactfully, "There are a few Somerset informants in the higher echelons of the Ministry of Magic."

Snape glanced at him and once again clearly sensed that West was not a fourth-grader, even though Snape had always been unwilling to admit it.

Within a year, West regained control of the Somerset family and even planted spies in the Ministry of Magic, making everything in the wizarding world transparent to him.

This is the wrist of Somerset's sole heir.

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup Final!"

The voice of Sports Minister Ludo Bagman resounded throughout the stadium, signaling the start of the match.

When the Bulgarian national team's mascots entered the stadium, they shocked everyone – it was a team of Veeva!

Although Snape wouldn't be greatly affected, he still subconsciously activated his brain defense mechanism.

Snape turned his head. "Don't look, the Veela will influence you..."

He paused under West's gaze.

West's deep green eyes looked at him with a puzzled expression, and he asked softly, "Hmm?"

His eyes were clear and his mind was sharp.

Snape's expression was complicated. Well, he was overthinking it.

West and Snape were not Quidditch fans, so they weren't particularly enthusiastic about the game.

"Malfoy said the Death Eaters will launch an attack tonight," West said. "I'm wondering if we should send Harry and the others back first."

"Nowhere is safer than right under our noses," Snape retorted.

Sure enough, around 1 a.m., the camp suddenly erupted in excitement.

Snape had taken a nap at West's urging, but was woken up by the noise, his face turning horribly dark.

West stepped out of the tent, where Harry was leading a drowsy-eyed Draco, followed by Ron and Hermione.

"What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"It's alright, you can all stay in the tent and not come out," West said. "Stay next to the professor, okay?"

Snape stood in the doorway and grabbed West. "Where are you going?"

"Don't worry, I'll be back soon," West reassured him.

The four children sat on the sofa, discussing quietly.

"My parents are still outside..." Draco said with a worried look.

"They'll be fine," Harry patted his hand.

Somerset's tent was enchanted with powerful protective magic, ensuring it would remain undetected, but West was nowhere to be seen.

A giant serpent swam from afar, and Snape quickly recognized it as West's guardian beast. A little red-haired girl was carried on its back.

"Ginny!" Ron called out and quickly helped Ginny down.

Ginny hid in Hermione's arms and cried.

"The poor little girl has gotten lost from her father," the giant snake said, flicking out its tongue, and curled up beside Snape, motionless.

Snape reached out and touched the giant serpent's body. This Patronus was truly a physical entity; its scales were cold.

Suddenly, a huge green skull appeared in the distant sky, and a large python emerged from the skull's mouth, like a tongue.

"The Dark Mark!" Hermione exclaimed in shock, pulling Ginny into her arms.

Snape's face darkened as he gripped his wand tightly.

The tip of the giant snake's tail coiled around Snape's thin, frail ankle, as if offering a silent comfort.