HP: By the lake of Snake Garden, flowers bloom on the other side

Ask Gryffindor Oliver Wood what are the three things he fears most?

It's not that he can't finish his homework. This is what Ron is afraid of. It wasn't the points deducted by the Head of Slytherin, which was what bothered Harry. It's even more unlikely that she didn't get good grades in some exam, which was something Hermione was anxious about.

What he fears most are three things: the Quidditch match being canceled for some reason, the Quidditch match being delayed, and all the plans and efforts he has made for the Quidditch match being miscalculated.

Saturday.

Gryffindor VS Slytherin.

Gryffindor's training room.

Everyone arrived, and Wood strode in angrily, carrying a broomstick. It was as if someone was going to be randomly picked and beaten at the next moment, with an extremely ferocious aura.

"We can't compete with Slytherin!" Wood said loudly, his anger causing his tone to rise several degrees, "Flint come and tell me, this time we have to compete with Hufflepuff."

"Why?" Everyone didn't understand.

Fred and George looked at each other, and then both pairs of identical eyes looked at Wood at the same time, waiting for him to give himself an explanation.

"The excuse Flint gave me was that their Seeker's arm wasn't good!" Wood was extremely angry.

On this day, the angry Wood sprayed white mist from his nose because of his heavy breathing.

Harry looked at his captain's appearance and felt very angry, "When did Malfoy's hand get injured? He's always been faking it!"

"The hand injury is not healed? What the hell is this reason?" Wood couldn't help but cursed, "They just don't want to compete in this weather at this time!"

"I just don't want to compete in this weather. What's the problem?" Malfoy leaned leisurely on the sofa and played with an orange in one hand.

Gray-blue eyes watched it being tossed in the air, then catching it as it fell.

"Is this okay?" Pansy asked curiously, "Without a valid reason, you shouldn't be able to change your opponents at will, right?"

""My hand is injured," Malfoy said very confidently. Not only did he say it, he also moved his arm. "Why isn't that a valid reason? All professors know it. "

"Are you really hurt? I thought you were making excuses." Pansy thought Malfoy was faking it, and admired him for actually pretending for so long.

Even those guys in Gryffindor who deliberately tormented him by pretending to have an injured hand refused to participate in his favorite Quidditch training.

"Why should I pretend to have an injured hand? It will delay the progress of my Quidditch training." Malfoy said a little sadly.

It's all the fault of that poor professor, who didn't follow him, didn't dig out the secret, and even put his arm around him.

"Draco, how did you get your hand injured?" Nott asked the most crucial part.

Malfoy didn't answer, and glanced at Lycoris unnaturally. While she was reading, she didn't receive his eyes.

"It doesn't matter how I got hurt. What matters is that I am unlucky." Malfoy said with a smirk, "If I am unlucky, then others must be unlucky with me."

He waved his hawthorn wand, and the orange peeled off. Malfoy reached out and picked up the orange, tore off a piece and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Now I'll ask the captain to tell Gryffindor about the temporary substitutions for the match. Let's see what those guys do?" Malfoy looked like he had succeeded in his evil deeds, and looked triumphantly at the squid floating slowly past the window.

It rained heavily, and all the fish in the Black Lake came to the shallow water.

The weather was particularly bad today, and the sky above the Quidditch pitch was extremely dark.