Hogwarts White Knight

Gawain has never been so interested in someone.

Especially if this person is a man.

He also stuttered.

He is also bald.

He was drenched in the smell of garlic, like a vat of pistou basilic walking around with its mouth open.

Until the first Saturday in November.

First Quidditch match of the year.

Gryffindor versus 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 raised into the air, but it was still difficult to see the action at times.

Gawain and Hermione came to the top row.

Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean were already there, holding a huge scarlet banner that said Potter Must Win.

If it weren't for the fact that he happened to know that the banner was transformed from a sheet soaked by Ron's mouse, Gawain would look more natural.

Dean, who is good at painting, drew a large Gryffindor lion underneath, and Hermione used a clever magic to make the paint on the banner flash with different colors.

"Not bad, isn't it? This is called a game! Just think, the youngest Seeker in a century beat those Slytherin bastards to a pulp."

Ron was waving the banner excitedly.

"Don't be stupid! This is just a game! How could anyone like to fly around on a broom!"

Hermione glanced at Ron dissatisfiedly, but Gawain nodded in agreement, indicating that he agreed with her view.

He always felt that the suitable flying prop for him was not a broomstick, but a comfortable and spacious blanket, or even simpler...

A house with a rocket booster.

Reason told him that this was impossible. To make a house fly, the gravity that needed to be overcome was enough to squeeze out Newton's juice.

But magic is tempting Gawain.

A permanent protection spell, a few or more slowing spells, plus more floating spells than slowing spells... you can get a house flying in the sky.

"Hermione, just because you're not good at flying doesn't mean Quidditch isn't a good sport. And Gawain, you only agreed because Hermione lent you your History of Magic homework!

And that's not fair! Why are you willing to lend it to Gawain, but never to me and Harry! "

Ron pointed out the crux of the problem sharply.

"Ahem, look, they're coming out."

In order to prevent the flames of the war from getting to him, he couldn't even borrow his History of Magic homework, so Gawain quickly changed the subject.

Of course, he didn't make it up.

Led by the big man Wood at the front, the Gryffindor players walked out of the channel on one side of the court.

——The stadium was boiling instantly.

Mrs. Hooch pulled the two teams together, said something, and then they got on the broom.

She blew the whistle sharply.

Game start!

Gawain, who had been waiting for a long time, secretly rolled out from the stands and rushed towards the Forbidden Forest with the help of the deceleration spell and the flying sand and stone spell.

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 have an urgent need to urinate!

“Magical straw is woven into human form.

An obsidian dagger soaked in venom.

Standing at the center of the inverted pentagram

Draw the symbols that symbolize birds and the sun.”

Gawain kept reciting strange incantations, and his spirit was highly concentrated on the formation diagram at his feet. He could feel that an indescribable will was being stirred by his call and was coming.

The existence of this kind of will was not written on the parchment Miranda gave him, and he had also looked up this curse and had never heard of it.

But he has come this far, and an abrupt termination will undoubtedly cause greater trouble. And Gawain can feel it

, that "will" seems very stiff compared to the "door" or the "Red Queen".

Like a machine that follows a predetermined program.

"Tom Riddle"

"Tom Riddle"

"Tom Riddle"

Gawain repeated the name three times and pictured the teachers' seats in the stands at the Quidditch pitch.

The runes carved with Aragog's venom suddenly burned, and black smoke swirled, forming a whirlwind with Gawain as the center.

Now comes the time to name the spell you wish to cast.

Gawain shouted, 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 stadium was so tense that it seemed to be on fire.

Under the leadership of captain Flint, the Slytherins committed multiple fouls one after another and almost knocked Harry down, causing Gryffindor to boo.

"In this way - after the obvious and despicable cheating just now -" Lee Jordan, as the commentator, found that maintaining a neutral stance was almost as difficult as asking Professor Snape to put on a flowery apron.

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall roared.

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

He put it another way.

At least no bad words were said this time.

"Jordan, I remind you—"

"Okay, okay. Flint almost killed the Gryffindor Seeker. I'm sure this happens to anyone, so Gryffindor took a penalty."

Lee Jordan finally found a sarcastic method that satisfied Professor McGonagall.

But no one was paying attention to the game at this time.

——In mid-air, Harry's Nimbus 2000 broom was shaking violently, as if it was trying to throw him down like crazy.

Worse, it was almost successful.

Harry's body had been thrown off, and he was grabbing the broom with both hands, trying to get back on it.

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

"Impossible," Hagrid said, his voice trembling slightly. "Nothing but extremely powerful dark magic can interfere with a broomstick - it's impossible for a child to cast such magic on Nimbus 2000."

"No way for a kid!"

A flash of inspiration flashed through Hermione's mind. She snatched Hagrid's telescope, hung it roughly on her head, and began to look anxiously at the crowd.

"How could it be!" Hermione gasped, "It's Snape - look. Gawain said he's not a bad guy!"

"That old bat?"

Ron took the glasses and saw Snape standing in the middle of the stands opposite them, staring at Harry and muttering silently.

"Hermione, we have to do something..."

He took off his glasses and threw them aside. When he turned around, he found that Hermione had disappeared.

Of course, Hermione didn't disappear.

Following the passage of the bleachers, she came to the bottom of the teachers' bleachers and climbed up quietly.

"incendio."

Hermione quietly took out her wand and pointed it at Snape's back. A weak flame shot out, igniting the end of his cloak.

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

Hermione clearly felt the ground shake.

A blinding flash lights up.

Professor Quirrell threw himself to the ground.

"Pfft!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

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

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