Gawain has never been so concerned about a person.

Especially since this person is a man.

He also stuttered.

He was also bald.

He was drenched in garlic, like a vat of Pistou balsilic walking openly.

Until the first Saturday of November.

The first Quidditch match of the year.

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

At eleven o'clock, all the teachers and students of the school came to the stands around the stadium. Many students also brought binoculars. The seats were literally lifted into the air, but it was still difficult to see the game at times.

Gawain and Hermione made their way to the top row.

Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean were already there, holding a large scarlet banner that said Potter must win.

If it weren't for the fact that he happened to know that the banner was a sheet that had been soaked with Ron's rat urine, Gawain would have seemed a little more natural.

Dean, who is good at drawing, drew a large Gryffindor lion underneath, and Hermione also cast a clever spell to make the paint on the banner shimmer with different colors.

"Not bad, isn't it? It's called a game! Think about it, the youngest Seeker in a hundred years to beat the Slytherin bastards to the ground. ”

Ron was excitedly waving a banner.

"Don't be stupid! It's just a game! How could anyone like to fly around on a broomstick!"

Hermione glanced at Ron disapprovingly, but Gawain nodded in agreement.

He always felt that the right flying prop for him was not a broomstick, but a comfortable and spacious blanket, or more simply...

A house with a rocket booster.

Reason told him that it was impossible, and that gravity needed to be overcome to make a house fly was enough to squeeze Newton out of his juice.

But magic is tempting Gawain.

Resident Protection, a few or more Slow Spells, plus more Levitation Charms than Slow Spells... You can get a house that flies in the sky.

"Just because Hermione isn't good at flying doesn't mean Quidditch isn't a good sport. And Gawain, you agreed only because Hermione lent you a history of magic homework!

And that's not fair!, why would you lend it to Gawain and not to me and Harry?"

Ron hit the nail on the head.

"Ahem, look, they're out. ”

In order to avoid the flames of war burning him, he couldn't even borrow the magic history homework, Gawain hurriedly changed the topic.

Of course, he didn't make it up either.

Led by Wood, the big man at the front, the Gryffindor players walked out of the passage on the side of the pitch.

- The stadium boiled over instantly.

Mrs. Hodge pulled the two teams together, and after saying something, they stepped on their broomsticks.

She blew her whistle violently.

It's game on!

Gawain, who had been waiting for a long time, sneaked out of the stands and hurried towards the Forbidden Forest with the help of a slowing spell and a spell of flying sand and stones.

There, he had laid out all the materials needed for the curse, and all that was left was to pray that Professor Quirrell wouldn't suddenly urinate!

"Magical straw is woven into a human form.

A dagger soaked in venom and obsidian.

Stand in the center of the inverted pentagram

depicting a symbol that symbolizes the bird and the sun"

Gao Wen kept chanting strange incantations in his mouth, and his spirit was highly focused on the formation under his feet. He could feel an indescribable will being stirred by his call, descending.

The existence of such a will was not written on the parchment that Miranda had given him, and he had consulted the curse, and had never heard of such a situation.

But he's come this far, and an abrupt termination would undoubtedly cause even more trouble. And Gawain could feel that the "will" was very stiff compared to the "door" or the "Red Queen".

It's like a machine that executes according to a set program.

Tom Riddle

Tom Riddle

Tom Riddle

Gawain repeated the name three times, imagining in his mind the teacher's seat in the stands at the Quidditch pitch.

The runes carved with Aragog's venom suddenly burst into flames, black smoke filled with black smoke, and a whirlwind formed with Gawain as the center.

Now it's time to say the spell you wish to cast.

Gawain shouted loudly, but his voice was completely swallowed up by the black whirlwind.

A green light flashed.

At the same time, the atmosphere in the stands of the Quidditch pitch was tense as if it was about to burn.

Led by captain Flint, the Slytherins fouled Harry several times in quick succession, and even almost knocked Harry down, causing Gryffindor to let out a violent "boo".

"In this way—after that blatant and despicable cheating—" Lee Jordan, who was the commentator, found it almost as difficult to maintain a neutral stance as it was to get Professor Snape to put on a floral apron.

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall yelled under her breath.

"I mean, after that blatant and offensive foul just now—"

He put it another way.

At least not swear this time.

"Jordan, I warn you—"

"Okay, okay. Flint nearly kills Gryffindor's Seeker. I'm sure this kind of thing happens to everyone, so Gryffindor makes free throws. ”

Lee Jordan finally found a way to make a sarcasm that Professor McGonagall was barely satisfied with.

But no one was paying attention to the game anymore.

- In mid-air, Harry's Halo 2000 broom shook violently, trying to throw him off as if he had gone crazy.

Worse still, it's close to success.

Harry's body had been thrown off, and his hands were clutching the broomstick, trying to ride back again.

"Did something go wrong with the broom when Flint hit him just now?" In the stands, Seamus whispered.

"No way," said Hagrid, his voice trembling slightly, "nothing can interfere with a broomstick except the most powerful black magic—it's impossible for a child to cast that magic on the Halo 2000." ”

"It's impossible for a child!"

A flash of inspiration flashed through Hermione's mind, and she snatched Hagrid's binoculars, hung them on her head, and began to gaze anxiously at the crowd.

"How so!" Hermione gasped, "It's Snape—look." Gawain said he wasn't bad!"

"The old bat?"

Ron took his glasses and saw Snape standing in the middle of the stands across from them, his eyes fixed on Harry, his mouth silently muttering.

"Hermione, we've got to do something..."

He took off his glasses and tossed them aside, only to turn his head to find that Hermione was gone.

Of course, Hermione didn't disappear.

Following the passage of the stands, she came to the bottom of the teacher's stand and quietly climbed up.

“Incendio。 ”

Hermione pulled out her wand and aimed it at Snape's back, and a faint flame shot out, igniting the end of his cloak.

But at this moment, there was a "boom!" in the stands.

Hermione visibly felt a tremor on the ground.

A blinding flash of light lit up.

Professor Quirrell fell to the ground.

"Poof!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

A bison was stepping on Professor Quirrell's back, his eyes glazed. Seeing a completely unfamiliar environment, it subconsciously opened its mouth.

A bunch of grass landed on the back of Professor Quirrell's head.