This Hogwarts is not normal

One ball, two balls, three balls.

Half an hour into the game, no matter where the Quaffle appeared on the field, it would be kicked off the field by Vincent.

Davis' mentality was a little bit broken, and he pulled in another chaser to form a triangle encirclement with Egil.

It's a pity that the effect is not very big, it can only delay a little bit of time, and cannot affect the ending of the Quaffle being thrown out.

As the audience, Draco wanted to sing a song very much at this time, but he thought of the "order" of his master dean, so he had to choose to keep his mouth shut.

Another 10 minutes passed, and the anxious Davis finally managed to touch the Quaffle.

In the next second, Vincent flew towards him at a terrifying speed.

In the blink of an eye, the Quaffle was thrown into the Gryffindor goal.

Just as Wood was about to defend, it was suddenly grabbed by a big hand.

"Wayne stopped the Quaffle, is he finally going to score?"

Under countless pairs of expectant eyes, Vincent threw it and swept it with the tail of a broom.

The Quaffle, which flew nearly [-] feet outside the field, was thrown back into the field by Mrs. Hooch.

The pressure on the Ravenclaw team is mounting.

Obviously he can hit the goal, but every time he hits off the court.

The first to collapse was Egil, who was extremely timid.

"Captain, it's better—how about we admit defeat."

"No!" Davis caught up with Vincent with a determined face.

Egil clenched his fists as if infected.

Score, as long as 10 points are fine.

Once there is a beginning, their momentum will return.

His sweeping six-star speed increased to the extreme, and he walked around behind Vincent before Davis.

"Give me the Quaffle!"

This hysterical roar made the audience and players focus on him.

Fred and George looked at each other, silently watching a Bludger flying over.

With a "bang", Egil was hit hard on the back of the head.

If it weren't for wearing a helmet, it is estimated that the lightest would have been a concussion.

Without thinking about it, Vincent threw away the Quaffle and grabbed him with both hands.

Davis caught the ball and threw it, and then looked at Egil who was holding the broom.

Without this pull, perhaps he would not necessarily have fallen.

Wood in front of the goal firmly hugged the Quaffle, "Fred! George!"

The twins who almost caused disaster all made faces at him.

The game continues.

Egil seemed to have changed another person, and several times he almost blocked the Quaffle that flew off the field.

Davis, however, was a little absent-minded.

The team has always been a whole, he should not be too obsessed with winning.

Mrs Hooch was right.

"Harry caught the Snitch, game over!"

180:0

After many years, Gryffindor finally won the championship trophy again.

Wood cried bitterly and hugged Harry excitedly.

"I thought I couldn't win the championship until graduation, Harry."

He looked at Vincent who was shaking hands with Davis friendly, "Wayne, come here!"

Vincent let go of his hand with a face full of resistance, "Wood is like this. He married himself to Quidditch."

"It's very interesting." Davis chuckled, "Wayne, I have to thank you for saving Egil."

"I just don't want my teammates to make big mistakes."

He froze for a moment, then nodded seriously, "We will become stronger next year."

"Wait and see." Vincent reluctantly flew towards Wood.

"Captain, I—"

"Come on, let's go together."

Egil's timid little face was full of energy.

In this game, Gryffindor has won, and Ravenclaw has also grown.

Mag in the stands wiped the tears from his face.

It is because of this that she loves the sport of Quidditch so much.

Grow from failure and keep growing.

Even if there is no victory, each player will gradually become stronger.

……

……

Tonight's Hogwarts castle belongs to Gryffindor.

The entire auditorium is decorated with red and gold decorations, and even the dinner is bright red.

Fred and George got a bottle of red wine out of nowhere and were sneakily uncorking it.

"To a great victory!"

After taking a sip, both of them choked on the bitter and strong liquor.

"Merlin, are there really so many people who love to drink this crap?"

Draco, who was across a long table, seemed to say "bumpkin" loudly, but they all sat down in the end.

Although he has never drunk it, he still has a basic understanding of alcohol.

Drinking directly from the seal like them, no matter how good the wine is, it will taste bitter.

The more elegant way of saying it is called a product, and only people who don't understand it call it a drink.

George pushed the cork back on and showed it to Cedric at the next table with a look of disgust.

"You want me to take the blame again?"

"No, no, this is what I gave you."

Cedric quickly put it back into George's arms, "Do you believe what you said?"

"Er - I don't believe it."

On the way back, George was caught by Percy.

Possession of red wine must be severely punished!

With Fred's joining, the whole auditorium became jittery.

Vincent was having dinner quietly.

"There are still 27 days until the exam, and I have to start reviewing from tomorrow." Hermione put down the tableware in her hand.

She seemed to be suppressing the urge to eat.

As much as you eat, you need to do the same amount of exercise.

This will further compress the review time, and eventually lead to results that do not meet expectations.

"It's only been 27 days, it's not too late to review in the last week." Lavender added a large plate of pork chops.

"Look at Lockhart, he manages his time very well, with a steady stream of one new book a year."

Hermione's unnaturalness returned to normal in an instant, "He has persisted for 9 years, and I believe this year will be no exception."

"Oh, Merlin—" Lavender put down the knife in his hand, "You are simply a devil!"

Among the girls, Lockhart seemed to be quite popular.

The reason is that in the last week, major newspapers have begun to introduce some of his deeds in detail.

The boys stopped reading after reading a title, and some even unsubscribed directly.

"The Quibbler" is a breath of fresh air, but everything in it is too weird.

The text was either written backwards or in magical runes.

Lavender likes both.

"Exam..." Vincent held his chin.

"What's wrong?" Neville looked towards the ceiling, "Is there anything there?"

"No, I was just wondering who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is."

"Isn't it Snape?"

"It's better for him." Vincent suddenly smirked, "Do you think he cast this curse?"

"Eh—" Neville shrank his neck back, "If you can't get it, you will be destroyed?"

"Not so much."

"Right."

According to Snape's personality, he really didn't seem like someone who could cast a curse.

"I heard it was ordered by a mysterious person." Alfred approached in a low voice, "He wants to prevent the birth of any existence that might threaten him, so—"

He didn't say the rest, but Vincent knew he was referring to Harry.

Voldemort, with this motive, is indeed the prime suspect.

……

……