Malfoy's face stiffened, almost thinking he had misheard.
"What did you say?"
I said, you have to apologize.
"Huh?" Malfoy uttered a strange sound, then became enraged. "I'm the victim here! You want me to apologize? Are all the guys associated with the Weasley out of their minds?"
Malfoy covered his panda eye with one hand and pointed to the shoe print on his face with the other, looking extremely aggrieved.
"You two were basically fighting each other, and neither of you gained the upper hand, so we're even."
Silan began to take sides.
Are we even now?
Malfoy was so angry his nose was crooked. He was injured like this, while Ron and Neville only had their clothes torn.
Can this be considered even?
Silan ignored him and continued, "But you were rude and provoked me first, so this matter can't be left like this."
Ron and Neville behind him exchanged a glance and remained silent in tacit agreement.
Malfoy ducked behind Goyle and Crabbe, peeking half his head out between them, and said sarcastically, "You, a Slytherin, are actually taking the side of Gryffindor? You're a disgrace to Slytherin!"
Silan stepped forward, startling Malfoy so much that he quickly hid his head behind his two henchmen.
"I am not speaking for Gryffindor, but for my friends and family."
"My father is Mrs. Weasley's brother," Silan stated calmly and methodically. "Mrs. Weasley is my aunt, Mr. Weasley is my uncle, and I am their nephew."
"Your insult to them is a disgrace to my bloodline and a trampling of my family's honor." Silan pressed on, her gaze coldly fixed on Malfoy. "Making you apologize is a warning to you."
Goyle and Crabbe had witnessed firsthand how Silan dealt with Chris Nott and Prefect William.
As he approached, they both felt a chill run down their necks and quickly retreated.
"You damn idiot, you stepped on me!"
Malfoy howled and slapped Goyle and Crabbe on the head.
The area was packed with young wizards watching the spectacle, and even the match itself failed to capture their attention.
The whispers of the surrounding young wizards made Malfoy feel utterly humiliated.
"Hurry up and leave!"
He growled in a low voice, his voice trembling with fear, and then slapped each of his two henchmen.
Silan frowned.
While at the orphanage, his words were always the highest priority orders.
All the children knew that Silan hated people who didn't listen to him, and even more so, people who didn't take his words seriously.
"Malfoy, you coward, apologize!" Ron shouted.
"Apologize!" Neville shouted as well.
Malfoy glanced back at the two bullies who were just trying to intimidate him, but didn't take them seriously.
"Mr. Malfoy, I already warned you." Silan snapped his fingers and chanted a spell.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
"Thump!"
Malfoy was tripped and fell to the ground by the Leg-Locker Curse.
Goyle and Crabbe behind him also fell down, landing right on top of him.
These two are quite similar in weight; one is clueless and the other is unhappy.
It pressed down on Malfoy, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
"Wandless Casting!"
"He can actually Wandless Casting?!"
Someone shouted, and the surrounding young wizards all erupted in an uproar, staring at Silan with disbelief.
Everyone knows how important a wand is to a wizard.
But precisely because of this, Wandless Casting becomes all the more difficult.
This method of casting spells is like pulling a train; even if it succeeds, the results are usually not ideal.
"Wait a moment!"
Malfoy no longer cared about maintaining the decorum of a Pure-blood nobleman and tried desperately to crawl out from under his two henchmen.
But Goyle and Crabbe couldn't stand up no matter what they did; they were pinned down by two huge rocks.
Silan walked over, and the little wizard automatically made way for him.
"Mr. Malfoy, I judge people simply: either be my friend or be my enemy." Silan patted his face, gracefully wiping away a speck of dust.
"Do you want to be my enemy?"
"No!" Malfoy struggled to his feet. "Friends! We are all wizards from the Twenty-Eight Holy Pure-blood families, of course we are friends!"
"You've forgotten, we were relatives hundreds of years ago!"
In a critical moment, Malfoy's wisdom came to the fore.
They've dug up the bloodlines of Pure-blood families and tried to claim kinship with them.
Actually, what he said wasn't wrong. In the past, in order to maintain the purity of bloodlines, many Pure-blood families intermarried, and were more or less related by marriage.
But in reality, nobody cared about this thin connection.
During the Wizarding Wars, who hasn't blown the brains out of their own relative's head?
However, saying such things at this time still has some effect, more or less.
"You're right, my friend."
Silan laughed, used Levitation Charm to straighten the three of them, and snapped his fingers to release the Leg-Locker Curse.
Even after promising to apologize, Malfoy still refused to bow down to Ron and Neville, glancing at them before turning to Silan.
"Mr. Prewett, I apologize for what I just said."
Malfoy could no longer maintain his usual arrogant demeanor and bowed his head in apology. He looked like a plucked, dead chicken, utterly listless.
Ron raised an eyebrow at Neville, as if to say, "Isn't my cousin amazing?"
Neville was still reeling from the shock of Silan Wandless Casting.
He had practiced Spells with Silan before and knew he was trying to Wandless Casting, but he didn't expect him to be so skilled.
Hermione jumped down from her seat, looking at Silan with a mixture of admiration and disappointment.
Why do I feel like the gap between us is widening?
"Very well, I forgive you." Silan smiled and waved at Malfoy.
Malfoy, feeling like he'd been granted a pardon, slunk away with his two henchmen.
The surrounding young wizards cheered.
This is way more fun than the ball game!
The young wizard who witnessed this firsthand looked at Silan with an unconscious air of respect.
He could Wandless Casting even in his first year, and he could force Malfoy to submit.
That guy named Prewett is really amazing!
The match is not over yet, but it has already reached its most exciting moment.
Lee Jordan ignited the passion. "Harry! It's Harry! He's chasing the Golden Snitch!"
"My God, the game hasn't even been going for 5 minutes!"
"If he can catch the Golden Snitch within 5 minutes, I dare say this will be a record-breaking match!"
Just as everyone was holding their breath and waiting for the result, a cheer suddenly broke out.
The surrounding audience all looked curiously in Silan's direction, wondering what had happened.
Even Dumbledore was no exception; he looked up and glanced in their direction thoughtfully.
Upon seeing Silan, he stroked his beard, remaining silent, lost in thought.
"We won!"
Lee Jordan's excited voice suddenly rang out as he exaggeratedly waved his arms, as if he himself had caught the Golden Snitch.
"The game is over! Less than 5 minutes! Less than 5 minutes!"
Lee Jordan repeatedly emphasized, "This will be a new record!"
The audience cheered.
The young wizards around Silan weren't as concerned about the outcome of the match.
They were all discussing Malfoy's matter with great interest.
Malfoy was a bully at school and offended many people, so seeing him get his comeuppance was incredibly satisfying.
Snape landed slowly on his Broomstick next to Harry, his face pale and his lips pressed tightly together.
This Snape looks a bit colorful, like he's about to vomit...
Silan had no interest in the post-match celebrations, so she told Hermione and left the stadium.
Snape pushed through the crowd, put on his hood, and left.