While Silan was engrossed in brewing the Baruffio's Brain Elixir, the new school year's Quidditch tournament began.
"Today's match is once again the fateful battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin."
"Let's wait and see who wins and who loses!"
Lee Jordan continues his passionate commentary.
Perhaps because Professor McGonagall was watching him, Lee Jordan surprisingly didn't try to get his own agenda.
This year, Malfoy's father Lucius, used his wealth to equip the entire Slytherin Quidditch Team with the latest Nimbus 2001.
This left Wood seething with anger.
So what if it's Broomstick?
Quidditch is all about skill and ability!
Therefore, Wood dragged the Gryffindor Quidditch Team players to train in the rain every day.
With the strong support and friendly cooperation of his teammates, Wood clearly felt that the team's strength had improved.
This made him extremely excited for today's match.
The spectators who came to watch the game today were also looking forward to a great match.
After Mrs Norris was petrified, various versions of the Chamber of Secrets legend and speculations about the successor circulated in Hogwarts, causing many people to be on edge.
Now I finally have a chance to relax.
The weather wasn't good today; it was hot and humid, and the overcast sky was rumbling with distant thunder, but the audience's enthusiasm was high.
Unfortunately, this highly anticipated match took an unexpected turn not long after it began.
The Bludger attacked Harry like a madman, eventually smashing his arm off.
However, as an excellent Seeker, Harry managed to catch the Golden Snitch with his uninjured arm before landing.
As a reward for winning the match, Lockhart personally removed the bone from his arm...
Harry, both desperate and furious, stuck his limp arm out of his sleeve.
"Your Spells is a little better than Ron's; at least you didn't hit yourself!"
Lockhart ignored Harry's sarcastic remarks, instead clutching his head in pain and letting out a hoarse howl.
"Ugh... it hurts... damn it, my headache is acting up again..."
"Harry... it looks like we'll have to go to the hospital together."
When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey saw Harry and said with a hint of exasperation, "You're here again? And what's it this time?"
Harry didn't say anything, but stretched out his wobbly, fleshy hand.
"My God! Who did this?!"
Madam Pomfrey hurriedly took Harry to his hospital bed.
"If my memory serves me correctly..."
Harry, lying in his hospital bed, tilted his head and looked at Lockhart: "Is he Mr. Lockhart, our Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Order of Merlin, Third Class, an honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and a five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award?"
Because of his anger, Harry raised his voice and spoke very rudely.
Madam Pomfrey glared angrily at Lockhart.
"Excellent, Mr. Lockhart!"
"I warned you long ago, don't use Spells lately!"
"Look what you've done!"
Lockhart, who had just been complaining of a headache, suddenly fell silent and didn't say a word in the face of the aggressive Madam Pomfrey.
"Look at the professor Dumbledore found!"
"And this damn competition! It's brutal and violent, it can hurt people!"
"I really don't know why so many people like it!"
While Madam Pomfrey was ranting, Ron, who had just arrived, stretched out Harry's limp fingers one by one and plucked them like strings.
"Not very nice to hear, Harry." Ron raised an eyebrow at him.
"I'm so sorry!" Harry said irritably, "These are my fingers, not strings!"
Hermione glared angrily at Lockhart.
What an incompetent idiot!
You big liar!
If he had even a tenth of Silan's honesty, I would believe that what he wrote in his book was true.
Madam Pomfrey berated Lockhart, then turned to Harry and said unhappily, "You should have come directly to me."
Her words were stern, but her movements were gentle.
Carefully lifting Harry's limp arm, Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I could have set the bone in a second..."
"But to get them to grow back..."
"You can do it too, right?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Of course, but it will hurt a lot."
With a stern face, she tossed a set of pajamas to Harry: "You might need to spend the night here."
Lockhart, who had been thoroughly scolded, remained strangely quiet, watching Harry with a smile on his face, his eyes occasionally flickering, lost in thought.
The lights in the Hospital Wing flickered, casting Lockhart's shadow into strange shapes.
Hogsmeade.
George and Fred, carrying four bottles of Butterbeer, left the Hog's Head and headed toward Pippin's Potions.
The two walked and talked.
The bottles of Butterbeer clinked together.
"Harry's really unlucky. I never thought the Bludger crazy," George said.
"The worst off would have been running into Lockhart," Fred thought, recalling Harry's limp hands. "I really want to know what Spells he used? How could he pull the bones out so cleanly? It might be good for a prank."
George frowned, thought for a moment, and said, "I overheard Lockhart muttering something about finally becoming Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor..."
"How come I didn't know he had such a dream?" Fred, somewhat puzzled.
"Never mind, whatever. The Butterbeer's already been bought."
Fred waved the Butterbeer in his hand. "Let's sell Silan's Potions first, then when we get back to Hogwarts, we'll call him and sneak off to the Hospital Wing to see Harry."
George didn't think much of it after hearing this, and said with a smile, "Skele-Gro doesn't taste very good."
"Hopefully Harry will like the Butterbeer."
The two of them strolled into Pippin's Potions.
The shop owner, who was putting Potions Ingredients on the shelves, heard the bell at the door and turned around with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Pippin's Potions! What would you like to order?"
"I have some freshly arrived..."
He was only halfway through his sentence when the boss saw that the people who had arrived were two Weasley, and his interest immediately waned.
Making money out of the Weasley is harder than plucking Dumbledore's beard.
"Gentlemen, please take your time reading."
The shopkeeper placed the Potions he was holding on the shelf, walked back behind the counter, and looked rather lazy. He didn't even bother to serve Weasley.
Anyway, at most you'll only earn a few Knut.
Knut doesn't need to go to such lengths for this.
George and Fred ignored the Potions Ingredients on the shelves and went straight to the counter, saying bluntly, "No need to look at them, we're here to buy Potions."
"Oh."
The boss inwardly scoffed, thinking to himself, "Looks like it's impossible to earn even a few Knut from them."
Poor Weasley.
However, he couldn't just kick them out.
I'll just give it a cursory glance.
The boss sat lazily in the chair behind the counter and said casually.
"Then let's take it out and have a look."