Quidditch Final

Most of the young wizards stared at Neville in disbelief. He had actually succeeded?

Those who have experienced failure understand the hardship of this process even more. With a fragile blade of grass in their mouth, they must be careful and cautious at all times. Perhaps an unintentional sneeze, a heavy tone of voice, or a chewing motion can ruin all their previous efforts.

Many members of the Teaching Class blamed their failures on the Twins, but they knew in their hearts that the main reason was themselves.

In the latter part of the ceremony, many young wizards, believing they understood Professor McGonagall's intentions, felt a sense of relief after the leaves were damaged, harboring a sense of self-abandonment. After a few good students, represented by Cedric, declared their failure, everyone felt even more at ease.

Now, the chubby boy who persevered silently until he succeeded has shocked everyone.

Professor McGonagall looked at Neville, who seemed a little timid and uneasy about raising his hand alone, and gave him an approving look:

"A month ago, I never imagined any of you would succeed. Many renowned scholars in the field of Transfiguration have been kept outside the high walls of Mandrake. You possess an astonishingly strong will, Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville's eyes Winky with praise. He blushed and suppressed the urge to bury his head in his arms, looking straight at the stage. "Professor, then, can I proceed with the rest of the ceremony?"

Over the past month, Neville has also heard that the ritual is impossible to complete.

The principles of Transfiguration were not fully learned, and the control of reason and savagery was not taught at all. Neville found the arguments of those clever students to be very reasonable.

Professor McGonagall only told them to begin the ceremony, without mentioning anything else. Faced with the choice between the smart approach and the foolish way of following the professor's instructions, Neville chose the foolish approach.

Talking might cause him to bite a leaf, so he tried not to talk. Eating might cause him to bite a leaf, so he ate less. Sleeping might cause him to accidentally swallow a leaf, so he slept less. Neville couldn't think of any clever solutions, so he could only use his own clumsy methods to slowly crawl forward.

Now, the less intelligent child has climbed ahead of the more intelligent student.

"Of course," Professor McGonagall smiled and nodded at him. "Tonight is the Full Moon. Come to my office after dinner. We need to spend some time preparing the Secret Potion, and then find a quiet place away from the sun to hide it."

These words immediately caused a stir in the classroom.

"Wow!"

George and Fred immediately cried out in surprise, while the other young wizards whispered among themselves, expressing their envy and strong condemnation of the Twins.

"Peeves! I'm going to teach that guy a lesson!"

Cedric, usually mild-mannered, spoke through gritted teeth; he was just days away from success.

Hermione pursed her lips. When the leaf broke, she had already convinced herself to accept the failure, but now that she knew Neville was about to proceed with the next step of the Animagus Ritual, the usually strong-willed little Witch couldn't help but feel anxious.

"Wow, Neville's awesome!" Loren laughed and punched his roommate in the front row.

Neville's face was flushed with embarrassment. Uncomfortable in this situation, he could only manage a sheepish grin. He nodded vigorously to Professor McGonagall, who was smiling at him, and sat back down in his seat.

"Professor, when will the Mandrake be ready this month? I'm sure I won't fail again!" a young wizard shouted. "I'll stay far away from George and Fred for the next month."

"I'm afraid that won't work." Professor McGonagall smiled gently. "Final exams are coming up soon, and after that it will be summer vacation. Even if you manage to hold on for a month, you won't be able to complete the rest of the ritual."

A chorus of wails suddenly erupted in the classroom:

"Oh no!"

"It's all George and Fred's fault!"

"Shut up, Andrew! Don't think we don't know you swallowed a leaf while eating your bread!"

Professor McGonagall stood on the podium, listening with a smile to the excited chatter of the young wizards. She knew that with Neville's encouragement, more people would persevere when the ceremony was held again next semester.

"Although this semester is almost over, you can continue to try to gain experience by holding Mandrake Leaf in your mouth," Professor McGonagall said slowly.

A seventh-year wizard raised his hand and shouted, "Professor, what about our graduating students?"

Loren then remembered that the Animagus class did not distinguish between grades, and many of them were about to shed their student status and bid a long farewell to this Castle.

The scene fell silent for a moment.

"There is an opportunity." Professor McGonagall's voice was soft, ringing in the ears of every student. "You are just graduating from school, but learning is a lifelong endeavor. You can continue to study magic even after leaving school. You are welcome to write to me and discuss things. Not just Transfiguration, but also Charms, Potions, Fantastic Beasts ... I believe no professor will refuse your letter."

Furthermore, Animagus is not a necessary form of magic; it even carries certain dangers, and I discourage you from performing the ritual yourselves. Once you are confident you have sufficient theoretical knowledge, you can return to school and try it out, but of course, you will need to bring your own Mandrake then."

The last sentence made some people laugh again.

For the rest of the time, Professor McGonagall talked about her methods of studying Transfiguration, introducing many magazines, books, and even detailed articles, saying it was because summer vacation was approaching.

However, many junior wizards know that this is to teach those who are about to graduate how to learn on their own after leaving school.

The atmosphere in this class was quieter than usual, and Professor McGonagall left the classroom first after class.

Through conversations with the graduates, Loren learned that it wasn't just this class; all the classes the graduates had been taking recently were like this: professors were no longer focusing on detailed knowledge, but rather preferred to teach general methods.

Hermione put away the picture book and walked out of the classroom side by side with Loren, talking about their revision plans along the way.

Hogwarts ' final exams are usually held in the first week of June, occasionally fluctuating by a few days depending on the situation. Results are released in the second week, and summer vacation begins after the farewell dinner.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts exam was canceled, and the difficulty of other subjects in the second year was greatly reduced due to curriculum reforms, which is why Hermione did not start reviewing two months in advance.

It was evening in the boys' dormitory.

Just as the four of them, including Loren, were about to fall asleep in bed, Neville quietly pushed open the door and came in, then gently closed it again, the wooden door with its brass hinges creaking loudly.

Neville turned his head and met four pairs of glowing eyes; his four roommates were all staring at him with curious eyes.

Neville visibly trembled with fright. "I, I didn't mean to make such a loud noise at the door, I was already very quiet."

"The doors are inspected by the House-elf during the holidays, but let's not talk about that. Nobody cares about the doors anyway." Loren waved his hand. "Tell me about the Animagus rituals. What did Professor McGonagall take you to do?"

"Yes, yes!" Harry, Ron, and Seamus nodded repeatedly; they had also heard about Neville's glory.

"It's about putting Mandrake and some of my saliva into Crystal Vial, adding a hair and a teaspoon of dew from Professor Snape, then putting in Death's-head Hawkmoth Chrysalis," Neville said slowly. "Finally, find a quiet, dark place to hide it."

Although they all knew the contents of the Animagus ritual, they still listened with great interest.

Harry glanced at the night outside. "It didn't sound like much trouble, so why did it take so long?"

Neville looked a little embarrassed and scratched his head. "I forgot to bring my password list. I was locked out by the Fat Lady and just came in with George and Fred who came back from their night stroll."

"What?" Ron shouted immediately, "George and Fred are out at night again! I'm going to report them!"

Loren ruthlessly shattered his illusions. "I advise you to think carefully. The holidays are coming up soon, and they will have two months to get revenge on you."

Do you think I'm afraid of them?

Harry yawned and nodded. "Yes."

"Loren! Harry! Which side are you on?"

The dormitory erupted in another round of laughter and chatter.

Neville slowly changed into his pajamas, rolled onto the bed and lay down. His gaze passed through the black curtains of the four-poster bed, through the bright moonlight outside the window, and flew all the way to the closed ward of the St Mungo's's Hospital for Wounds and Injuries.

Would his parents be proud of him?

I think so.

Saturday is the day of the final battle Gryffindor and Slytherin.

In the morning, people poured out of the Great Hall, talking and laughing loudly, and made their way to the Quidditch Pitch through the front door. Amidst thunderous cheers, the players from both sides took to the air.

Strangely enough, it was Luna who organized the less enthusiastic Gryffindor, including Loren and Hermione. She held a banner and urged Hermione and the others, who were clutching notebooks, to shout along with her. For a moment, it was hard to tell who was Gryffindor and who was Ravenclaw.

The situation on the field was somewhat tense. The Eagle Head Attack Formation was not very effective. Angelina charged straight at them, and the Slytherin players charged at her even more aggressively, forcing Angelina to turn around.

Slytherin's offense was even more ruthless than in the last match, making it difficult for Gryffindor to defend. Wood made quick saves in front of the Quidditch hoop, but the score continued to widen.

The key to victory or defeat still rests on Harry's shoulders.

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy seemed to have changed his ways, engaging him in a fair and square Seeker. Accelerating to create distance, feints, psychological warfare... Malfoy didn't even utter a single unpleasant word.

Lansky feint, Cobra maneuvers... Harry and Malfoy battled for a while, and Harry was delighted to find that he was much stronger than Malfoy. So Harry happily carried Malfoy around the field, disrupting Slytherin's offensive rhythm and relieving Gryffindor's defensive pressure.

Harry once again used a double "8" shaped dribble to help his team regain possession. Before Harry could even smile, goalkeeper Wood to his level, looking at him with a serious expression.

"Harry, if this drags on any longer, we're going to lose."

Harry turned his head sharply to look at the score—30:100, the difference was rapidly approaching 150.

Flying next to the scoreboard was Malfoy. Harry noticed a sinister smile on his lips and his eyelids twitched rapidly.

Is Malfoy deliberately trying to please me?

Ginny, who was in the stands, noticed this and asked with some confusion, "We've got possession of the ball, so why does Harry look unhappy?"

Ron didn't answer his sister's question. He was leaning on the railing, intently watching the game, with half of his body hanging out of the stands. He wished he could fly up and knock Slytherin's captain, Marcus, off his broom.

Fearing he might fall off the spectator stands, Loren pulled him back and explained, "It looks like Harry has the advantage, leading Draco by the nose with his superb flying skills. But actually, Draco is just going along with him, delaying his search for the Golden Snitch. Once the score difference reaches over 150, we're doomed to lose."

Hermione had already closed her notebook; she couldn't concentrate on studying and was muttering to herself as she calculated her House Cup scores.

Luna shook the banner above her head and said in her ethereal voice, "Harry will win."

"Understood, Captain!" Harry replied sullenly.

No longer caring about Malfoy, Harry gripped his broom and sped up, scanning the surroundings as he began to fly around the pitch.

The two Seeker unleashed the full speed of Nimbus 2001, leaving only two swirling, battling shadows on the field.

On the main battleground, the Chaser Beater both teams were locked in fierce combat, creating a Potions of chaos. Slytherin's players were ruthless, while Gryffindor's players coordinated seamlessly, employing various siege and interception tactics to create numerical superiority.

Neither side drew their wands due to Lady Madam Hooch's presence. However, the equipment gap was too large, and the score difference between the two teams continued to rapidly approach 150.

As Harry flew over the edge of the pitch once more, he caught a fleeting glimpse of golden light out of the corner of his eye. Without time to think, Nimbus 2001 accelerated again at full speed, heading straight for the Golden Snitch.

After catching the Golden Snitch, Harry couldn't stop his broom flying at full speed and crashed into a flag on the sidelines, landing safely on the ground thanks to the flag cloth cushioning his fall.

Harry raised his right hand, displaying the golden light in it.

The audience fell silent for a moment, then erupted in even louder cheers:

"Gryffindor!"

Long live Harry Potter!

With the Quidditch champion going to Gryffindor, the outcome of the House Cup is no longer in doubt.

In the stands, Professor McGonagall suppressed a smile and said calmly, "It seems that the flying broom is just a tool after all; winning the game still depends on the players."

"Winning or losing isn't important; what matters is the students' growth and what they've learned. I think Malfoy has gained a lot from this match." Snape glanced expressionlessly at the arena and added, "Next year, I plan to have them switch to Firebolt and the new Flying Broomsticks, which are even faster."

Professor McGonagall: "..."

Professor Sprout chuckled, "I'll take a look, and if it's suitable, I'll get a new batch of flying brooms for our team too."

Professor Flitwick stroked his beard quickly. "I think Professor McGonagall is right. Brooms are just tools; the players are more important in a game. Let's discuss standardizing the flying brooms used in the games. We can't get caught up in meaningless competition."

The Potions Master and the Herbology professor are both well-off, unlike him, a Charms professor. If they were to switch to Firebolt, Ravenclaw would definitely be at the bottom of the rankings.