Hogwarts: I will not become the Dark Lord

Jerry and his group carried their heavy kettles, their pace noticeably slower than before, but their spirits were lifted by the encounters along the way. Every few steps, they would run into familiar faces, Hogwarts students and their families.

They also met Wood, who had just graduated from Hogwarts this year. He approached them with excitement, telling Jerry and Harry that he had signed with the Pride of Portree professional Quidditch team, although only as a reserve player.

Continuing on, Cho Chang's figure came into view. She smiled and waved at Harry, who hurriedly waved back, but in his excitement, he accidentally spilled water on the front of his robes, causing him to fumble around. To cover his embarrassment, he quickly pointed to a group of unfamiliar teenagers not far away.

“Do you know those people?” Harry asked curiously. “They probably aren't Hogwarts students, are they?”

“They might be students from some foreign magic school,” Ginny said, following Harry's gaze, a hint of displeasure flashing in her eyes. She glanced at Cho Chang, then explained, “I know there are other magic schools besides Hogwarts, but I don't know which one specifically. I remember Bill used to have a pen pal from a magic school in Brazil.”

“You're finally back!” George complained jokingly as they finally returned to the Weasley's tent.

“We ran into some old friends along the way and chatted for a bit,” Jerry replied with a smile, gently placing the kettle aside. “Looks like our campfire hasn't been lit yet?”

“Dad's lost in the world of matches,” Fred quipped, his eyes falling on the matches scattered around Mr. Weasley. A relaxed expression hung on his face, showing no signs of impatience.

“Ouch!” With a soft cry, Mr. Weasley finally managed to light a match, but as if burned, he quickly flung it away, eliciting a burst of laughter.

“Haha, look who's here! This is the main man of the day—Ludo Bagman!” Mr. Weasley announced loudly.

Ludo Bagman was wearing a long Quidditch robe of yellow and black, with a huge wasp pattern emblazoned on the chest. Beneath his thinning, golden-yellow hair was a ruddy face, with round eyes and a flattened nose that looked like it had been broken.

The robe tightly encased his rounded belly, and his portly figure made it hard to believe that he had once been a legendary player on the English Quidditch team.

“Ah ha!” Mr. Bagman exclaimed cheerfully, his steps light and springy, as if he were stepping on invisible springs, radiating an irrepressible excitement.

Clearly, he was in a state of near-frenzy.

“Arthur, old friend!” he bounced over to the campfire. “Look at this weather, isn't it perfect? Tonight, the sky over the Quidditch pitch will be clear and cloudless. Ah! Everything is so well-organized, I'm almost bored to death!”

Just then, a group of weary-looking Ministry of Magic officials hurried past them, and in the distance, strange sounds could be heard, as if someone were controlling magical fire, with purple flames rising into the sky, reaching over twenty feet high.

Percy, seeing this, quickly stepped forward, extending his hand with a polite smile. Although he had reservations about some of Ludo Bagman's actions in the department, that didn't stop him from showing his politeness and demeanor at this moment, hoping to leave a good impression.

“Let me introduce you to my family,” Mr. Weasley said with a smile. “Bagman, this is Percy, just graduated from Hogwarts and also working at the Ministry of Magic. Over there is Fred—oh, no, it's George, sorry, I get them mixed up, this is Fred. They're twins, it's always hard to tell them apart. Then there's Bill, Charlie, and Ron, my other three sons, and my lovely daughter Ginny. These are my sons' friends, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Jerry Green.”

When Harry's name was mentioned, a hint of surprise flashed in Bagman's eyes, and his gaze involuntarily fell on the scar on his forehead. Harry was used to this kind of attention and responded with a calm smile.

Bagman then looked at Jerry, examining him up and down. Compared to Harry, he seemed more interested in Jerry.

“This is Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry of Magic,” Mr. Weasley introduced. “Thanks to his help, I was able to get so many tickets to the final.”

Mr. Bagman waved his hand with a beaming smile, as if it was all just a small favor.

“How about it, Arthur, want to place a bet to add some excitement to the game?” Ludo Bagman's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. As he asked, he casually made the yellow and black robe pocket jingle, obviously filled with heavy Galleons.

“I've already successfully persuaded Roddy Pontner to join my betting pool. He firmly believes that the Bulgarian team will score first, and I've set him a tempting odds trap because I know the strength of the Irish number three forward. Even little Agatha Timms is willing to bet half of her eel farm stock on the Irish team.”

Mr. Weasley smiled and thought for a moment, then said, “Oh, in that case, I'll join in the fun. I'll put in a Galleon, betting on Ireland to win, how about that?”

“One Galleon?” A hint of disappointment flashed across Ludo Bagman's face, but even a mosquito is still meat. He quickly recovered, “Haha, of course, it's just for fun, participation is the key. So, anyone else want to join?” As he spoke, his gaze seemed to fall intentionally or unintentionally on Jerry.

So he's a gambling addict! Jerry thought to himself.

“Bagman, these kids aren't adults yet, they can't participate.”

“Oh, don't be so serious, Arthur!” Ludo Bagman waved dismissively. He patted his pocket generously, the clinking of the gold coins clear and pleasant. “They're already adults, they have the right to decide how to spend their money. Besides, I'm very confident in Ireland, the odds I'm giving you will definitely make you a fortune!”

“Mr. Bagman, let us think about it, and we don't have many Galleons!” George and Fred shook their heads after thinking for a while. They planned to ask Jerry after Bagman left, since the Quidditch World Cup final didn't start until tonight.

“Alright then!” Ludo Bagman said dejectedly. “You're welcome to come find me, but I must remind you, the opportunity doesn't wait for anyone, the books officially close at five o'clock in the afternoon. If you really want to participate, you have to hurry and find me during this last bit of time!”