Harry: Want to See Me Show Off?

I don't know if the professors held a seminar together or discussed something, but the various club activities on campus have started to become more frequent.

Professor Flitwick's Charms Club always holds events on Tuesdays, instructing younger students on basic spellcasting, correcting their bad habits, occasionally sharing spellcasting tips, and even teaching some less respectable spells, such as the Falling Curse, the Trip Jinx, and the Bat-Bogey Hex...

The young wizards loved the change, though they would have been even happier if Professor Flitwick hadn't repeatedly emphasized that spellcasting was forbidden in the school corridors and that violators would be put in solitary confinement.

The upper-level division studies more advanced material. Building upon everyday spells, Professor Flitwick guides the young wizards to explore Ancient Magic... In reality, it's Professor Flitwick imparting his research findings to the young wizards in a flexible and profound way.

Seamus longed for the upperclassmen division, especially for the rumored Blasting Curse modified by Professor Flitwick.

The Potions Club has also made some changes. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall have probably reached some kind of agreement, and the number of new members recruited is twice that of last year.

Almost all students in the Potions Master Advanced Class received invitations, as did many of the younger wizards who excelled in Potions Master.

Harry hung his head listlessly, slowly moved onto the sofa by holding onto the armrest, and then collapsed limply onto the sofa as if he had been hit by Extraction Curse. He looked like an old man, which made his friends next to him feel inexplicably sad.

Ron looked at Loren with suspicion. "I remember you just came back from the Potions Club. Why does Harry look like this? Was there physical labor involved in today's Potions Club activities, or was Harry used by Snape to test potions?"

"Huh? No..." Loren thought about it carefully and shook his head firmly. "Today, the senior members taught the new members how to make Wormwood Essence. We are already very skilled at it, so it's not hard at all."

Hermione looked at Harry with concern. "Are you alright? Are you sick?"

"Yeah, it wasn't hard at all." Harry raised his right hand weakly, then slumped down, looking miserable. But he realized that some things were hard to say, so he could only swallow his bitterness silently.

Cho Chang was a new member. Cedric was teaching her how to quickly brew Wormwood Essence, hand in hand... while Loren and Hermione were pulling and tugging at each other in another direction...

He wanted to stuff all these people into a crucible and boil them all into Wormwood Essence.

Harry thought for a moment, then turned his gaze to the other side. "Loren, can I withdraw from the Potions Club? I don't think I have any talent for Potions?"

"I think you could give it a try," Loren said casually, spreading his hands. "If you're not worried about the consequences..."

What are the consequences?

Ron walked over and patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "From now on, you'll be watched by the old bat in every Potions class, and he might use you as a test subject at any time."

"Oh, no!"

Harry covered his face in anguish, feeling as if the days ahead were shrouded in darkness.

Harry's distress didn't last long. Time flew by and it was late November. There was a Quidditch Match this Saturday between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

The weather these past two days has been neither good nor bad; it hasn't rained, the howling north wind is still chilly, and the sky isn't exactly bright. It's good weather for Quidditch.

Emerging from the locker room and receiving brooms provided by the school for the competition, Gryffindor's team captain Oliver Wood walked alongside the invincible Seeker Harry Potter at the front, leading the players to the entrance.

"Nimbus 2000! We can fly to our hearts' content again!" Fred cheered.

George waved his broom and cheered, "Those Ravenclaw nerds, I'll make sure they can't even see my ass!"

"Honestly, George, nobody wants to see your ass."

"Oh, Angelina, you've got the wrong person. I'm Fred."

"Don't try to fool me, George, I can tell the difference between you two."

"Um?"

George narrowed his eyes, vaguely sensing that something was amiss, and fell into deep thought.

Wood smiled as he listened to his teammates' noisy chatter.

They were determined to win this game. It wasn't that they looked down on those bookworms from Ravenclaw, but rather that they were full of confidence in themselves.

As Wood was thinking this, he suddenly noticed out of the corner of his eye that Harry looked a little dazed. Wood reached out and patted Harry on the shoulder. "You're already an experienced Seeker, are you still nervous, Harry?"

"A little," Harry mumbled sleepily.

"Oh, don't worry too much. Just be careful to avoid the Bludger, and we'll take care of the rest."

Harry couldn't help but smile. He knew what Wood meant... When Wood was a rookie player, he was hit in the head by Bludger just two minutes into his first game and was unconscious for a week.

Outside, the deafening cheers of the crowd created a cacophony that even stirred a gentle breeze, causing the Gryffindor uniforms to flutter. The wooden doors opened, and the cheers from the stands grew even louder, flooding the ears like a tidal wave, making everyone's blood boil with excitement.

Gryffindor's uniforms are a vibrant, passionate fiery red on the outside and a restrained, dazzling golden yellow on the inside. The red glow on their faces makes them look exceptionally energetic, and the Gryffindor style is immediately apparent.

As the Ravenclaw players entered the field one by one, Harry immediately spotted Cho Chang walking on his right. She wore a blue and gray Ravenclaw jersey, looking mysterious and elegant.

Despicable Cedric!

Harry thought he had let go and calmed down, but when he saw Cho Chang, Harry couldn't help but grit his teeth.

Why is Cedric able to be with Cho Chang? What exactly does Cho Chang like about Cedric?

Just because the two of them practiced together at the Quidditch Pitch?

Because he's the Seeker for Hufflepuff?

Because he was a skilled Quidditch?

Today, he is determined to prove himself to Qiu Zhang—

I, Harry Potter, Quidditch far more skilled and proficient in Cedric.

Harry tightened his grip on the broom, his gaze hardening. At that moment, his eyes were like those of a true Gryffindor lion, sharp and majestic.

"Everyone—"

Loren drew out his impassioned voice, then uttered the rest of his words in one breath, "Greetings to the cowardly little devils terrified by Gryffindor, the disappointed ones defeated by Gryffindor just two weeks ago, the pitiful ones about to be defeated by Gryffindor, and the Gryffindor who are about to retain their title!

As if by magic, the deafening cheers instantly fell silent. The young wizards slowly opened their mouths, looking at the commentary booth in disbelief as if struck by lightning.

Even the young wizards of Gryffindor stopped cheering.

Another commentator, Lee Jordan, stared blankly at Loren, his eyes filled with shock and admiration.

I thought that after two years of practice, my commentary skills had caught up with Loren's.

It seems we're still far from it.

I wonder if he'll have the chance to deliver such a brilliant commentary before graduation.

"Loren Morgan!"

Professor McGonagall immediately dragged him off the commentary booth. The Gryffindor Head of House was so angry that his eyebrows shot up. Professor McGonagall glared at him fiercely. "You stay here. You're not allowed to go anywhere, and you're never allowed to come near the commentary booth again!"

Loren's expression was obedient. "As you command, my most respected professor."

Urged on by Professor McGonagall, Lee Jordan gradually came to his senses and continued his commentary, albeit somewhat haltingly. "Hello everyone, welcome to the second Quidditch match of the season at Hogwarts. Today's match is between Gryffindor Quidditch Team and—and soon —Ravenclaw..."

"Lee Jordan also wants to talk about Ravenclaw, who is about to be defeated by Gryffindor, right?" Parvati couldn't help but laugh and fell onto Lavender, his shoulders and stomach twitching, and he couldn't stop giggling.

Lavender laughed so hard he almost fell over, "Loren, Loren is so funny!"

Hermione, standing to the side, looked helpless; she knew Loren wouldn't explain himself calmly.

Someone's witty opening remarks clearly ignited the fighting spirit of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. Captain and Chaser Roger Davis had a gloomy face and showed no intention of speaking during the pre-game greetings.

Beater Jason Samuels and Duncan Ingleby angrily at Harry, looking like they were about to pummel Harry with Bludger.

Seeker Cho Chang also gave Harry a fierce look as he passed by.

Harry's heart pounded faster, filled with excitement and fighting spirit.

She's looking at me!

Harry secretly made up his mind—he must show off his superb Quidditch skills to Cho Chang, defeat them decisively, and let Cho Chang see his strength.

Then, he considerately comforted her and arranged to practice Quidditch skills with her sometime...

Wait a minute, wouldn't that make me a despicable third party?

No, no, Harry decided to postpone things until Cho Chang and Cedric broke up. As for whether they would break up, was that even a question?

As Harry imagined this, he listened to Madam Hooch's whistle and, filled with fighting spirit, soared into the sky like a rocket.

Faced with absolute power, no amount of anger is of any use; Gryffindor defeated Ravenclaw with overwhelming force.

Harry Potter Seeker, in particular, used all sorts of flashy flying skills against Ravenclaw's Seeker, using the same broomstick to leave Cho Chang completely bewildered.

The result was just not what Harry had expected.

After the show, Qiu Zhang, her eyes red and tears of grievance welling up, threw herself into Cedric's arms.

"..."

Harry stood frozen in place, sinking into deep depression and self-doubt.

On the evening of the third Saturday in November, Loren knocked on the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

Good evening, Professor Lupin.

Loren held up the tightly sealed Crystal Vial in his hand and greeted him with a smile.

"Hmm, based on the experience of the past few months, tonight probably won't be too good."

Lupin, who was reading the newspaper, shook his head helplessly, put the Daily Prophet aside, and beckoned Loren to sit down.

Lupin picked up the teapot and poured Loren a cup of hot tea. "I remember those improvement plans you mentioned... This month, it should be the turn of the Corpse-stinking Lily, right?"

"Yes, but Snape lowered the concentration," Loren explained somewhat guiltily, handing over the Crystal Vial.

As Lupin put away the Wolfsbane Potion, Loren was drawn to the moving image in the center of the Daily Prophet's page—

A middle-aged man with a full beard was waving at the camera, while a somewhat embarrassed Fudge stood beside him, his right hand outstretched and suspended in mid-air. He paused, then stiffly withdrew it. It seemed Fudge had wanted to shake hands, but the bearded man had ignored him.

Fudge looked embarrassed and annoyed, but had to endure it, which was quite comical.

The photo is captioned in large, bold letters: The Ambitions of the American Magical Congress! The International Confederation of Wizards Shifts Its Focus!

Loren glanced at it a few more times, twirling his teacup in his hand, and couldn't help but ask, "Professor, has the Ministry of Magic been up to anything lately?"

"Oh, it's about the International Confederation of Wizards Conference being moved to New York." Lupin pulled the newspaper over and showed it to Loren. "The man in the photo is Samuel G. Kowhaug, the official in charge of this matter for the American Magical Congress. This is a scene of him and Fudge handing over the position in Devon."

Loren quickly skimmed through the news. Apart from Lupin's account, there wasn't much other exciting information. However, the Daily Prophet still managed to grab attention as always, using euphemisms to portray the American Magical Congress as ambitious and greedy in its commentary on the events, while also taking a side note of the Quidditch World Cup next summer.

"Tsk, the Ministry of Magic actually published this photo..." Loren looked at it several times with great interest, repeatedly enjoying the scene of Fudge's humiliation. "This is too rare, it's really damaging to Minister Fudge's image."

"It's just a politician's tactic." Lupin shook his head dismissively. "Creating a vulnerable image, especially since this vulnerable image belongs to our minister, who represents the Ministry of Magic and us, will only make most wizards more supportive of this minister after they've laughed and cursed him."

Professor Lupin paused, then said in a strange tone, "Ha, politicians... ha, politicians..."

Loren didn't reply, but silently picked up his teacup and took a small sip.

Yes, the tea quality has improved a lot.

It seems that the salary and benefits for Hogwarts professors are quite good.

Professor Lupin seemed somewhat melancholic tonight, lost in his own emotions and completely ignoring Loren. He muttered to himself, "I heard that the American Magical Congress has seized the opportunity of the Werewolf migration and plans to establish an officially recognized Werewolf community, recruiting Werewolf as Aurors to use Werewolf unique abilities to fight against dark wizards. It's even already quite large-scale. This is truly... unbelievable."

Loren lowered his head and sipped his tea without saying a word.

This Werewolf professor had been a wanderer for a long time, and his heart was filled with more bitterness, like a flood stuck in his chest, which would always leak out in the dead of night.

Professor Dumbledore told me there might be a conspiracy involved—

Lupin paused, as if Dumbledore's name had alerted Lupin, making him realize that he was facing only a young wizard.

After pursing his lips and remaining silent for a moment, Lupin shook his head and said softly, "Who knows... Sorry, Loren, for letting you hear these complaints."

"..."