Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying!

In reality, many Ravenclaws, like Michael, have a nonchalant attitude towards the College Cup. High scores are fine, low scores are fine, and even finishing last doesn't matter. They don't put in the effort in class to earn more points for their college.

“There’s no other prize in the Quidditch Cup!” Wade said.

“This is Quidditch!” Michael exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Lifting the Quidditch cup is the greatest honor.”

Suddenly, a loud laugh came from the side.

Malfoy, accompanied by two henchmen, sidled up and whispered, "Just one win and you're already this cocky? Don't forget the College Cup has been ours for the past six years! Ravenclaw's—"

He stared at Wade with a gloomy expression and uttered a single word with malice: "—Mudblood."

Michael flew into a rage and drew his wand: "How dare you—"

Malfoy jumped back and threatened, "The professor is right behind us. Do you dare to make a move?"

"What do I have to be afraid of!" Michael roared. "It's perfect for the professor to know what you said!"

Just as he was about to utter the evil curse, Wade grabbed him and stopped him.

“Malfoy,” Wade said calmly, “you should look in the mirror—see how ugly you are now, so despicable and wicked.”

Malfoy was momentarily speechless, then after a long pause, he thought of continuing to attack Wade's bloodline: "You—you filthy—"

But Wade and Michael had already walked past, as if the people in front of them were nothing more than roadside weeds.

Malfoy also heard him say, "Michael, when a vicious dog bites you, just kick it away. You can't just lie down and let it bite back, can you?"

Michael, whether due to a low threshold for laughter or simply imagining the scene, was immediately amused and burst into laughter. Even some students passing by couldn't help but laugh, glancing mockingly at the Slytherins.

When Malfoy heard those giggling laughs, he felt as if a steel knife was scraping his face. He was so angry that he trembled all over and almost swore an evil curse.

But ultimately, the professor's presence nearby had a greater deterrent effect, forcing Malfoy to suppress his temper.

He strode quickly toward the castle, head down, his teeth clenched with hatred as he thought of the two humiliations Vader had inflicted on him. Crabbe and Goyle hurriedly followed, their faces blank, as if they understood nothing.

Malfoy heard the voices around him and felt they were mocking him. Suddenly, he really heard his own name—

"Malfoy and Wade have clashed again... He must really hate Wade now, right?" The girl's voice sounded a little worried.

Malfoy recognized the voice as Padma from Ravenclaw, who seemed to have a good relationship with Vader. He instinctively hid behind a pillar to eavesdrop and gestured for Crabbe and Goyle to hide quickly.

The two chubby boys glanced at each other, then huddled behind Malfoy, looking like a string of candied hawthorns.

Another similar voice – Parvati said: "Of course, after all, he's a purebred Malfoy!"

“Do you think Malfoy is still using the Book of Friends invented by Vader?” Padma said.

"Hmm?" Parvati hesitated for a moment, then mumbled, "This... should be..."

“I don’t think so either,” Padma said with a grin. “Otherwise, it would be ridiculous for him to be criticizing Wade while using things Wade invented, wouldn’t it?”

“Right…right…right?” Parvati stammered.

She didn't quite understand—who would give up something so useful just for a verbal argument? Besides, the Book of Friends isn't cheap…

But seeing Padma's confident look, and thinking about her unfinished Potions class homework, Parvati wisely shut her mouth.

Padma glanced at a group of figures behind the pillar and a sly smile crept across his face.

……

The girls left hand in hand.

Malfoy emerged from behind the pillar, his pale face flushed crimson. He took out the Book of Friends, tore it to shreds without hesitation, and threw it on the ground.

"Keep an eye on Wade Grey!" Malfoy said viciously. "See when he's going to the Potions classroom! I won't let that guy get away!"

The most powerful and vicious curses he knew were swirling in his mind—

Killing Curse... Cruciatus Curse... Guts-ripping Curse... No, I don't know any of those... Teeth in a club... Leg-locking Curse... Blazing Fire...

Chapter 88 Exercises, News

"boom!"

The spell's light exploded, sending Harry flying backward and crashing into the cushions against the wall with a low groan.

When he looked up again, he was covering his nose, and bright red blood was dripping down.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing over to ask, "How are you?"

“I bumped my nose,” Harry answered sullenly. He took some white essence from the shelf by the wall, skillfully applied it to his nose, and then wiped the blood off his face with a tissue.

Neville retrieved the wand for him, and Harry said, "Thank you, Neville."

The wound healed in no time, and Harry looked up and asked, "I think my Ironclad Charm worked a little, didn't it?"

“Indeed, my spell was a little off.” Vader nodded in affirmation, then asked, “But it was too weak and didn’t have the desired effect. Pay attention—'Pro-tay-goh' (Iron Armor), you need to pronounce it more decisively. This spell doesn’t have many tricks; it just requires repeated practice.”

“I understand.” Harry took a deep breath, loosened his wrists, and gripped his wand tightly.

"continue?"

"Of course!"

Harry, decisive as ever, steadied himself and swung his wand forcefully: "Protect Yourself!"

"Except your weapons!"

The spells collided again, and Harry's wand slipped from his hand once more.

"Has Harry been working a little too hard these past few days?" Michael asked Neville, who had just returned. "I saw him get injured several times today."

"Hmm, a little," Neville said vaguely. "Shall we continue practicing the Disarm Charm?"

“Listen to me, Neville—you can never learn all the spells. Only by resting can you learn better—” Michael sat on the ground, unwilling to move, and said lazily, “—you’re not being chased by Mystic, so why are you working so hard?”

Of the SSC members, Harry has made the most progress, aside from Wade. He has already learned the Disarming Charm and the Armor Charm, but his Invisible Armor is still fragile and easily broken. Neville, on the other hand, has made the slowest progress, having yet to successfully cast a single Disarming Charm.

But Michael knew that Neville actually worked harder than anyone else. Watching him fail time and time again, and get back up again and again, Michael felt sorry for him.

Neville didn't say anything, he just stood silently in the sparring position and looked at Michael silently.

Michael: “…”

He suppressed the discomfort that felt like his whole body was being stung by ants, and forced himself to stay on the ground for another two minutes before finally succumbing to the pangs of his conscience and getting up.

“Why should I be here studying fifth and sixth grade stuff with you guys?” Michael muttered. “I’m definitely not coming tomorrow night… I need to party, I need to play games… even if it’s just sitting in front of the fireplace doing nothing.”

Neville was just laughing.

At first, he believed him and worried that Michael wouldn't want to be dragged into training anymore and would never come to the Umbrella House again, so he would train for a while and then rest for a while. But later, Neville discovered that Michael was never just talking and would still show up on time the next day.

“If he doesn’t come, you’ll be without a partner. Or we can take turns practicing, but someone will always be left out.” At the end of training, Hermione pointed out Michael’s reason for doing so: “He just wants to slack off, but he doesn’t want to hold back those who are willing to work hard.”

Neville paused, then suddenly felt apologetic: "But I've never mastered the Disarming Charm... I'm so sorry for what he's done for me."

“Yes, it’s really strange—” Hermione frowned, puzzled: “Wade taught us in great detail. He said your movements and spells were all correct, so why can’t you succeed?”

“Hermione,” Harry interrupted hastily.

When a top student asks a struggling student, "Why can't you learn something so simple?", isn't that the same as saying, "You're incredibly stupid?"

Neville, however, wasn't so sensitive. He looked down at his wand, lost in thought.

……

That evening, after washing up, Wade came out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair, and saw a familiar house-elf standing in the house.

"McGee? Have a seat."

Wade put down the wet towel, poured a glass of water for McGee and pushed it over, then poured one for himself and drank it all in one gulp.

McKee didn't sit down. He leaned back in his chair, holding the hot water he had brought himself. His big eyes were wet, and he said in a soft voice, "Wade Grey shouldn't go to the Potions classroom tomorrow afternoon. Other students are using it."

Wade paused, thought for a moment, and then put the water glass back in its place.

During lunch today, he sat near Pewter and casually mentioned to Padma that he was going to practice shrinking potions in Potions class the next day.

Wade had originally thought that he should casually mention it to the Slytherin students—but now it seems unnecessary.

McGee, on the other hand—after our last conversation, he seemed to have learned some kind of bug-exploiting technique. He was swaying slightly, drinking his water with obvious enjoyment, and seemed quite happy, showing no intention of punishing himself for it anymore.

Wade smiled and asked, "Are there any upperclassmen?"

“No,” McGee said. “They’re all the same as Wade Gray.”

How many students will be using the Potions classroom?

"Uh..." The house-elf hesitated for a moment: "Six? Seven? Six?"

"Six or seven people... but one of them might not go?" Wade asked.

McKee shook his head: "They thought she was one of them, but she wasn't."

“I understand.” Wade took out a small copy of the Book of Friends and handed it to McKee, saying, “I think you know how to use this? If you can’t go to the Potions class tomorrow, please let me know, okay?”

“Okay, McGee will do it—McGee is happy to help Wade Gray.” McGee bowed happily and disappeared with the Book of Friends with a “snap.”

……

"Wade, have you noticed—" During the History of Magic class, Michael looked around and lowered his voice, "Slytherin's acting a bit strange today?"

"How so?" Wade asked.

“Just now at the door, Zabini actually smiled at me, which was kind of creepy.” Michael rubbed his arms. “Could these guys be up to something?”