Tom walked slowly along the flow of people, listening to the little wizards around him loudly discussing today's Quidditch match. Most of the time, the discussion was the most intense after the game: why so-and-so team is not in good condition, what so-and-so team
Someone was sleepwalking all over the place.
If you win, even coughing will involve 18 layers of psychological games. If you lose, even breathing will be wrong.
In all competitive games, losing is the original sin.
So Malfoy is in big trouble. The news that his father gave every member of the team a Nimbus 2001 spread throughout Hogwarts, and now the backlash is coming. Anyone with eyes can see it.
Come on, Slytherin lost this game to the Seeker.
So Malfoy suddenly took the biggest blame.
"Is Draco sleepwalking?" Tom heard a Slytherin student not far away shouting angrily, speaking quickly and spitting, "I saw clearly with the telescope, the Golden Snitch was there at that time
Less than a foot from his ear!"
After this violent news broke out, the surrounding audience was in an uproar whether intentionally or unintentionally. If this matter is true, it would be too dramatic.
"Really?"
"Really! My binoculars are waterproof and can be replayed..." He took out a pair of binoculars and replayed the final showdown between Malfoy and Harry.
The little wizards happily ate it up. Some people thought that Malfoy was unworthy and had come in through connections. Others thought that Malfoy was deliberately cheating. Some little wizards said that Slytherin would not be able to participate in Quidditch this year.
The cup is all Malfoy's problem...
Tom looked away in boredom. He could fully imagine the pressure Malfoy would face. Tom looked ahead, where were the little Gryffindor wizards who were celebrating. They burned Wes as if they didn't want money.
Brother Lai's magic fireworks are waterproof. In addition to the fireworks, they also set up a flag with a vivid lion on it, roaring up to the sky, making a real lion's roar——
The little wizards of Gryffindor stopped. They gathered around, as if something had happened. Judging from their expressions, it was probably not a good thing.
Tom noticed this change. He squeezed through the crowd and walked there to check the situation. When the little wizard of Gryffindor saw that the person coming was a professor from the school, he consciously made way for Tom to enter the core of the circle.
place.
Tom saw Harry being supported by Fred and George. At this time, he was covering his forehead and looking a little groggy. Seeing Tom coming over, Fred and George looked a little strange.
.
"What happened? Potter?" Tom squatted in front of Harry and took a look at his complexion. It was indeed ordinary: Harry's face was pale, and there were fine beads of sweat hanging on his forehead. It looked like he was experiencing great pain.
.
"It's nothing, Professor." Even though he had a splitting headache, Harry still instinctively wanted to hide the pain of his scar. For the past year, he had tried his best to downplay his specialness. He hated being watched like a monkey by everyone.
He also hated the scene where everyone looked surprised and pointed at his forehead, chanting the words "The Boy Who Lived" and "Savior". He just wanted to be an ordinary student and enjoy his time at Hogwarts.
Learning experience.
The word "The Boy Who Lived" was too heavy for him. Behind this word was the cost of his parents' lives.
Fortunately, Professor Lockhart did not continue to inquire. He gave Harry a meaningful look.
"If you have anything to say or ask, you can come to me at any time. There are no outsiders here. Of course, my suggestion is to go directly to Dumbledore." He approached Harry and asked in a low voice.
: "Is it the scar on your forehead that hurts?"
Harry raised his head in surprise. He didn't expect that Professor Lockhart had guessed it! For a moment, his mind was spinning, wondering whether he should tell the truth.
'Perhaps we can talk to Professor Lockhart in private.' Harry thought.
Tom confirmed his guess through Harry's reaction. He stood up straight and said to the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team surrounding him: "Mr. Potter just fell off the broom.
The injury may not only be on the arm, but also on the forehead. Madam Pomfrey happens to be not far away either, so take him to have a look and ask her to prescribe some painkillers."
Tom said to Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor team. Oliver Wood nodded, then picked up Harry and ran towards the school hospital.
Tom stood there, watching the group of people gradually disappear.
The pain in Harry's scar meant that Voldemort was becoming active again. Tom immediately thought of Riddle's diary, which suggested that he was causing trouble.
Judging from Harry's reaction, Riddle's diary must have regained some power. This fact made Tom's heart feel as heavy as a big stone.
Wood's physical strength was good, and he actually carried Harry all the way to the campus hospital. However, this time Ms. Pomfrey did not come out to entertain them immediately. Wood could only put Harry on a bed and wait uneasily.
The door to the campus hospital was pushed open, and Wood just stood up and froze in place. This time it was Dumbledore who came in, holding something in his arms, followed by the librarian Mrs. Pince and Snape.
The Professor and Madam Pomfrey stood behind them.
Dumbledore placed the soft thing on the bed. Wood took a closer look and found that it was Cassandra, a sixth-year student of Slytherin House.
Mrs. Pince said uneasily: "This child didn't go to the Quidditch match. She wanted to read in the library... About ten minutes ago, I heard several strange noises and found that he was unconscious...
"
"What's going on?" Madam Pomfrey asked Dumbledore in a low voice, while leaning over to take a look at the student's condition, "And before..."
"Yes, the situation is basically the same as Miss Brown's. His vitality is exhausted. Mrs. Pince found him in the library."
"Miss Warley didn't like the noisy environment, so she didn't go to today's Quidditch match." Snape looked at Cassandra lying on the bed, his face was ashen, and his tone was devoid of any emotion other than coldness.
After hearing this conversation, Harry and Wood glanced at each other, and both saw the worry in each other's eyes.
"Fortunately, Miss Brown still has some medicine left..." Madam Pomfrey came over with a jar with a silver spoon. She gently opened Cassandra's closed lips and drank the medicine.