Quidditch Match, Best Substitute Enters

A few days later, the Room of Requirement.

Matthew was brewing a Potent Vitality Potion.

He held a bottle of blue liquid in his hand—this was processed troll blood. Over the past few days, he had finally finished treating it. Troll blood contained many magical impurities, and the process was very tedious, requiring a special extraction liquid to precipitate them out. These past few days, Matthew had been refining that extraction liquid.

He poured the blue liquid from the bottle into the cauldron, added an appropriate amount of leeches with their mouths removed and African tree snake skin, set the magic flame to medium heat, brewed for ten minutes, then added a packet of unicorn horn powder and stirred evenly.

A moment later, all the ingredients had dissolved into the liquid, and the potion in the cauldron turned a brighter shade of blue.

The Potent Vitality Potion was complete. He turned off the magic flame and poured the potion into a clean glass cup.

"Let's see how it works." Matthew downed the potion directly from the cup. The still-bubbling potion inside the glass felt only room temperature when it entered his mouth.

Matthew found himself wanting more. The Potent Vitality Potion was unexpectedly delicious—sweet and sour, somewhat like the taste of a sour plum drink.

Before he could think further, the magic within his body began to stir abnormally. He quickly sat on the bed and activated the "Aemon Basic Meditation Method."

Under the influence of the meditation method, the turbulence in his magic started to affect his Sea of Consciousness.

As he ran the meditation method, the chaotic magic became rhythmic. Each surge struck his Sea of Consciousness, and the frequency was very rapid.

If using Blue Water Flower Juice to assist meditation before was like sitting in a small boat being battered by fierce waves, then using the Potent Vitality Potion to aid meditation now was like having a Skull Crusher Demon wielding an iron hammer, relentlessly pounding on Matthew's head.

An intense dizziness nearly made him lose his grip on the meditation method.

Half an hour later, the potion's effects gradually faded, and the dizziness receded.

Matthew could perceive that his Sea of Consciousness had become noticeably more solid.

This potion could be used once a day; overuse would damage his foundation.

He was very satisfied with the Potent Vitality Potion's effects. At this rate, he would break through soon.

After finishing his cultivation, Matthew felt a pang of hunger in his stomach. He took out his pocket watch and checked the time—it was already lunchtime.

It was Saturday, with no classes all day, so Matthew had spent the entire morning in the Room of Requirement.

He cleaned up the table, left the Room of Requirement, and headed toward the Great Hall.

At the entrance of the Great Hall, he ran into a group of students wearing Slytherin Quidditch team uniforms.

The leader, Marcus Flint, spotted Matthew, hurried over, and said loudly, "Matthew! Did you forget what day it is today?"

Matthew suddenly remembered that the new Quidditch season had started. He was supposedly a Slytherin player, but since he hadn't attended training for a long time, he had been relegated to a substitute.

He began to make excuses. "I'm just a substitute. I probably won't play anyway, so there's no need to train all the time, right?"

"You call that 'not training often'? You haven't come even once this entire semester!" Marcus was furious. "And! This afternoon is the first match!"

Matthew had been busy processing troll blood these past few days and had genuinely forgotten about the match today.

"I'll be there this afternoon."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Perrigin got injured during morning practice. You're filling in for this afternoon's match."

"Huh? Is that a good idea? I haven't trained all semester." Matthew said, a little embarrassed.

"No choice. Perrigin is lying in the school hospital right now. You're the only one left to make up the numbers."

Marcus was also very frustrated. This afternoon, they were up against a strong team like Gryffindor, and with a key player injured, he had to rely on a substitute.

Besides, Matthew had performed brilliantly on the field last year. Marcus had even hoped to groom him as a successor. He never expected Matthew to shine for only one year before skipping training for nearly half a year. Just thinking about it gave him a headache.

Matthew agreed. The troll blood was already processed, so he wouldn't be too busy in the coming days.

In the afternoon, the Quidditch pitch.

The stands around the pitch were buzzing with noise. Almost the entire school's staff and students had shown up.

Matthew's two roommates were in the stands, holding up a glittering sign that read:

--Annual Best Hitter Matthew Black Must Win!

--Slytherin Must Win!

Below it was a thumbs-up pattern. This was Jerry's idea, inspired by the support signs at Muggle World concerts.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville were on the other side of the stands. They had painted a banner on a bedsheet that read "Potter Must Win," with a lion head pattern underneath. Under the effect of magic, the pattern shimmered in different colors.

At the same time, in the Slytherin locker room, Matthew changed into the dark green Quidditch team uniform.

Marcus came over to Matthew and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't be nervous. Just show the same fighting spirit you had when you brawled."

He knew a bit about the grievances from the lower years and was aware that Matthew had taken down quite a few people in his first and second years.

Matthew smiled and nodded, indicating he wasn't nervous. He was a Beater. On the field, a Beater was responsible for controlling the Bludger's trajectory, keeping it from interfering with teammates, while also trying to hit opposing players.

He hadn't trained in so long that controlling the Bludger's path might not be his strong suit. But hitting opposing players? He was far too good at that. Last year, with his nearly flawless accuracy, he had knocked out several opponents and earned the title of Annual Best Hitter.

To ease the pre-match tension, Marcus started joking. "Will Crabbe has been stirring up the upper-year students lately, trying to get them to put some pressure on you."

The Keeper, Miles Bletchley, also laughed. "Matthew has already proven his strength. A shrewd Slytherin wouldn't waste effort on something so thankless."

Matthew remembered that the junior who had been bullied by Will had once mentioned this to him, but nothing had come of it since. He had thought Will had given up.

Seeker Terence Shacklebolt curled his lip, revealing a disdainful expression.

"That foolish Will came to me too. Pure blood doesn't mean nobler! The Crabbe family is far inferior to the Shacklebolt family and the Black family!"

Terence was also a Half-blood Wizard; the Shacklebolt family, like the Black family, was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

The others just laughed along awkwardly, not delving deeper into this sensitive topic.

Matthew stroked his chin, beginning to consider whether he should pay a visit to the Crabbe family during the holidays.