Transformers

Angelina had no dueling experience and was easily defeated by Drax in a few moves, retreating in a disheveled state.

After losing two games in a row, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were completely panicked.

They had clashed with Slytherin before, but this was their first direct duel. How could they have lost so badly?

"Let's go!" Fred and George stopped the other two girls and stepped forward side by side.

But as it turns out, winning or losing has nothing to do with gender; twins just have more clever ideas.

In a surprise attack, they could outmaneuver their opponents, but in a direct confrontation, they were quickly defeated.

Four losses in four games, a complete shutout!

Professor McGonagall's expression was priceless; the humiliation she felt was even more intense than losing a hundred House Points or three hundred points in Quidditch!

In contrast, Snape's usual gloomy face was gone, replaced by a radiant glow, as he waved to Marcus Flint.

"Not bad, not bad. After all, we're classmates, so go easy on him."

These words were like a knife, stabbing Professor McGonagall once again.

"What are you standing there for? You're delaying other people's training! Go back to the castle and do your homework!"

Professor McGonagall berated Wood and the others, and Hermione felt that their height was diminished by her arrogance.

Wood and the others walked out in silence, even the twins had lost their usual playful smiles.

"Potter," Malfoy whispered tauntingly as Harry passed by, "You're lucky this time, otherwise I would have beaten you to a pulp."

"Someone who doesn't even dare to duel dares to spout threats?" Harry's retort startled Malfoy, who finally felt a bit better and quickly caught up with the group.

"Severus, your student is indeed excellent."

Professor McGonagall managed a few forced compliments, but she was too ashamed to stay any longer. Her departing figure was tinged with an indescribable desolation.

She can accept students being naughty, and she can accept students being slow-witted, after all, individuals are different.

Wood, Johnson, Weasley Twins are all among Gryffindor's best seeds, yet they lost so decisively.

Does this mean her teaching skills are inferior to Snape's?

"Professor McGonagall..." Hermione's heart clenched as she watched Professor McGonagall's retreating figure.

"Hermione, this isn't actually a bad thing." Tom hadn't expected this outcome either; he had thought Gryffindor would at least win one match.

He caused this mess, so he should comfort the little witch to prevent her from crying.

He explained softly, "Professor McGonagall's teaching ability is fine, she's just too protective of you."

"Think about it, in your first year of school, have you had any real-world experience?"

Hermione shook her head honestly. Let alone in actual combat, Hogwarts rarely even had a chance to use spells casually.

Everyone was cramming before the exam, and they were just grateful to pass.

"Slytherin are different from you," Tom said earnestly.

"Snape doesn't concern himself with the House's affairs anymore. If he wants to gain a foothold in Slytherin, he'll have to rely on his strength and talent."

"Actually, the difference in strength between the two teams isn't that big; it's just a matter of experience dominating."

"Marcus Flint has been Avery's sparring partner for a year now. Even an idiot would figure out a fighting style by now."

"But what about Wood and his group? To call them academics is an insult to academics."

"He has no concept of dueling whatsoever; all he knows is to stupidly cast spells."

Hermione fell into thought, while Daphne showed no interest in these matters.

She sidled up to Colin and pleaded with him to print an extra copy of the photos she had just taken of Tom.

Astoria looked up at Tom, her eyes filled with the light emanating from him.

After driving away Gryffindor, the Slytherin Quidditch team's morale soared.

They rode their brand-new Nimbus 2001 at breakneck speed through the air, performing somersaults, sharp turns, and all sorts of high-difficulty stunts with incredible skill.

After the warm-up, they immediately began the training session, but this training involved physical confrontations that other academies wouldn't even dare to imagine.

Apart from Malfoy, who was as skinny as a monkey, the Slytherin Quidditch Team were all tall and strong.

Tom looked at the group of burly men and had a sudden inspiration, giving them a suggestion.

"You know what the Mamba Mentality is? Use your big elbows to smash your opponents until they're terrified of you! Go for it, guys!"

That one sentence was enough to unlock Marcus Flint's full potential.

Elbow strikes are stealthy and vicious; one hit can hurt for a long time. They're practically an essential Quidditch trick.

From then on, Marcus Flint was completely convinced of Tom and excitedly invited him to join the team, only to be flatly rejected by Tom.

Playing ball is so boring, and I have to train every week. I'd rather spend that time in the locker room telling Daphne a story from Journey to the West.

Right now, he's talking about the Maledictus, Little White Dragon, joining the team, and the battle between Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie is about to begin.

The famous scene where the Reductor Curse blasts Zhu Ganglie's rake into scrap metal.

Watching a group of burly men huddled together, elbowing and wrestling, was an eyesore.

Tom quickly led the three girls out of the Quidditch Pitch and headed straight for the clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"You said yesterday you had some interesting gadgets, now it's time to bring them out, isn't it?"

Hermione was so anxious she was stamping her feet. She had been thinking about it since last night, Tom said that this thing couldn't be used in the Room of Requirement.

It will even make them cry; their curiosity has already been piqued to its limit.

Daphne and Astoria also came over, their eyes sparkling as they stared at Tom with anticipation.

"Get ready to be blown away!" Tom said smugly, arms crossed, his nostrils practically pointing to the sky.

"This is something I poured my heart and soul into during my entire vacation. I guarantee you'll be so satisfied you'll scream with delight."

"Shouldn't your masterpiece be ' IChat '?" Daphne tilted her head, looking puzzled.

Tom waved his hand dismissively, feigning profundity. "' IChat ' is work, this is life! Watch closely, don't blink!"

He reached into his pocket, which was like a treasure bag, and pulled out a box made of Dragon Hide and dragon bone. The moment he opened it...

Three little heads immediately crowded around; inside the box lay a small metal model with sharp lines and a unique shape.

"Is that a fighter jet?" Hermione blurted out while Daphne and Astoria were still squinting to make out the details.

"Oh!" Astoria exclaimed, "No wonder it looks a bit like Muggle plane, but this one is even cooler!"

"And then?" Hermione pressed. "Your prized creation isn't just a model, is it?"

Tom smiled without saying a word, then tossed the model airplane into the air.

The model flew into the air and suddenly began to expand. When it grew to one-third the size of a normal fighter jet, several crisp "crack" sounds were heard.

Under the girls' blank stares, the airplane model began to Transfiguration wildly, its wings folding, its fuselage stretching, and its wheels retracting.

Finally, with a loud "bang," a nearly two-meter-tall tin Giant landed heavily on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Optimus Prime?" Hermione's eyes widened as she finally realized that Tom had actually made a Transfiguration!