Chapter 47: Quidditch Match
Dylan blinked, almost fanning Professor McGonagall with his eyelashes.
Noticing what he was doing, he scratched his head awkwardly and laughed.
Professor McGonagall smiled.
She waved her wand, and the water glass next to her glided over.
"Please do it again."
"Lactea repleta!"
Sizzle~
The glass was filled with milk tea in a flash, and the sweet aroma filled the air.
Professor McGonagall held out her hand, first examining the magically produced drink.
Then she glanced up at Dylan.
"Is this tea?"
"Milk tea."
Dylan smiled.
Professor McGonagall noticed, "So whether I want tea or milk, you'll come up with this?"
Dylan nodded, "Professor, you're so smart!"
Professor McGonagall smiled, shook her head, and then swirled the glass.
There was a layer of fine foam on the surface of the milk tea, and the color was inviting.
Smelling the aroma, Professor McGonagall took a sip.
Suddenly, her eyes opened slightly wider, as if she was surprised by the taste of the milk tea.
"Silky smooth, just the right sweetness, and a pleasant tea aroma."
Professor McGonagall's eyes showed a hint of approval.
"Although it is the result of magic, the taste is excellent, Mr. Hockwood. You appear to have achieved intriguing practical results in your study of spells."
Dylan's eyes lit up when he heard Professor McGonagall's praise.
"Oh, I'm glad you like it, professor."
He raised his milk tea to his lips and sipped it.
"A Transfiguration summoning branch. I came across a fresh discovery on summoning spells while researching Transfiguration and that pushed me into this small experiment. I didn't actually think it would work."
Professor McGonagall sipped, then placed her glass on the table, looking at Dylan warmly and kindly in the eyes, and a seldom seen smile playing on the lips.
"If I'm not mistaken, this is to be a variation of Aguamenti, isn't it?"
Dylan nodded slightly, "Yes, I did mention it."
"This can be considered creating a new spell. I didn't know you could do that."
Professor McGonagall smiled, then changed the subject.
"But studying spells is dangerous. If you need to create any new spells in the future, you can come to me, and I'll guide you."
"Ah, would that be too much work for you, professor?" Dylan smiled to himself, but spoke modestly.
"It's okay. I haven't seen such a creative spell in a long time." Professor McGonagall looked at Dylan, "Or a young wizard."
Dylan smiled, "As for this spell, I just tuned its sweetness and flavor."
"I'm learning how to call toppings straight. Otherwise, this won't be real milk tea."
"That's not an emergency, Dylan. I just happen to have something to ask you." Professor McGonagall looked over.
"What is it? Tell me, professor." Dylan's heart skipped a beat, but his face showed only a hint of proper bewilderment.
"About the Quidditch match." Professor McGonagall said.
Uh?
Dylan sighed with relief and blinked, "Quidditch match? What about it?"
Meanwhile, someone had gone around telling everyone that Harry was going to be on the Quidditch team.
Wood was going crazy.
Harry was his neatly dressed secret ace, poised to take to the skies in the match, but now the ace was unavailable.
"The match is two days' time. Do you wish to be a member of the Gryffindor Flying team?"
Dylan was amazed, "Me? Professor, why me? I don't do well in flying class."
Professor McGonagall stood up straight, "Don't pretend you don't know. I watch you in flying class. I've noticed you're not really poor at flying. you're being deliberately cautious."
Hearing Professor McGonagall say so, Dylan recognized his acting within flying class was discovered.
"I'm flattered." Dylan nudged his nose.
Professor McGonagall smiled, "My flying is no worse than Madam Hooch's."
Dylan thought about it. It was true. Professor McGonagall was a seasoned Quidditch fan.
Her flying research could be as profound as her Transfiguration.
"I can see that when you learn spells, you look aggressive, but you're actually very stable. And when you fly, you fly very stably, as if you're afraid of falling. This shows your basic skills are good."
Dylan twitched his lips.
He accepted it as a compliment by Professor McGonagall.
As a matter of fact, he was able to fly at full speed in the air.
But he wanted to regulate every potentially imperfect movement during perfect flying naturally.
It wasn't that he was afraid of death, but he was rigid and regular!
"Thank you for your compliment. But I have too much magical knowledge to learn every day. So, sorry, I am not accepting your request."
Dylan shook his head.
Saying that Professor McGonagall was trying to persuade him, he spoke up, "Besides, I'm really not interested in Quidditch."
This sentence was closing off Professor McGonagall at once.
"Alright, everyone likes something different. We can't force it." Professor McGonagall sadly nodded her head.
Going back from the dormitory at night.
Harry came up to Dylan eagerly.
"Hey, Dylan, tomorrow after next is the Quidditch game. Will you watch me, right?"
"Oh." Dylan hesitated.
But at the sight of Harry's hope shining in his eyes, like two flashlights, half blinding him.
He massaged his temples and nodded fractionally, "I will."
"Yay!" Harry jumped up with enthusiasm.
At the time the Quidditch match was to begin.
At eleven in the morning.
Almost the entire teachers and pupils of Hogwarts had assembled.
The stands were packed with people.
Golden, white, and black heads intertwined, like mushrooms.
Dylan arrived from the library just in time.
As he drove up to the seat Ron had reserved for him.
He saw the sign Seamus and Ron were waving.
The sign was a dirty bed sheet, large letters written on it in ink—
"Potter is the best!!!"
Yes, there were three exclamation points at the end.
Dylan looked at the dirty bed sheet waving over his head, his face wearing a stunned expression.
He scratched his face gently, "This is."
"Cheering!" Ron exclaimed.
Dylan looked at Hermione.
Hermione just waved her wand, and the color of the text on the bed sheet was altered to be brighter.
Dylan opened his eyes wide, "You..."
"Harry will win!"
(End of chapter)
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