HP: I beat the otome game at Hogwarts

Harry saw that the dark-haired girl was still standing there, patiently waiting for him, as if she could tell that he still had something to say. Her watery eyes revealed concern and inquiry.

These thoughts seemed to give him the courage to blurt out the idea that had suddenly come to mind: "Laila, if, if I catch the Golden Snitch in tomorrow's match, could you, grant me a request?"

“It’s nothing,” Harry said, barely daring to catch his breath before blurting out the details, as he was afraid of being rejected immediately, “It’s just that if I win, can I go to Hogsmeade next time?”

“Okay,” Lyra said, noticing that their Seeker seemed overly nervous, and wanted to distract him. She moved closer to Harry, mimicking Professor McGonagall’s classic scrutinizing gaze as she stared at his cheeks, which were gradually turning pink. “But Harry, I remember you didn’t hand in your Hogsmeade autograph form, did you break the rules and sneak out?”

“I didn’t… I forgot,” Harry said haltingly, even the stubborn tuft of hair on his head drooped slightly.

Harry, preoccupied with the news that Lyra was going on a date with Diggory at Hogsmeade, completely forgot that he hadn't even signed any autographs for Hogsmeade. After Lyra pointed out the unfortunate reality, he felt not only his face burning, but also his throat and stomach churning with a burning and dry sensation that tormented him relentlessly.

"Don't worry—" Lyra mischievously enjoyed Harry's embarrassment for a few seconds, then reached out and ruffled the tuft of hair sticking up on his head. "Tomorrow's match will definitely go smoothly. You're Gryffindor's best Seeker!"

“Next time the weekend comes around Hogsmeade Village, I’ll find a way to make sure you’re not the only third-year student staying at school,” Lyra said with a mysterious smile to Harry before heading upstairs to her dormitory. “I have a surprise for you!”

*

When Harry woke up, it was still pitch black outside.

He couldn't tell if he was awake or dreaming, and in his hazy state, he seemed to hear the wind. At first, he thought it was the howling wind outside the window that woke him up; soon, he felt gusts of cold wind blowing on the back of his neck, raising goosebumps all over his skin, and he suddenly became fully awake.

"Peeves!" Harry sat up and immediately spotted the culprit: a mischievous ghost floating beside him, blowing hard into his ear.

"Why are you blowing like that?" Harry asked in a low voice, annoyed.

But Peeves got even more excited. He puffed out his cheeks, blew a gust of wind, and before Harry could reach for his wand next to the pillow, he spun out of the room, giggling.

Harry fumbled for his alarm clock in the dark and, by the dim light from the window, realized it was only 4:30 a.m. He cursed under his breath, then rolled over onto the bed, intending to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, the rumbling thunder and the sound of the wind crashing against the castle walls kept getting into his ears, and he could even hear the sound of trees being snapped by the wind in the distant Forbidden Forest.

Finally, Harry reluctantly gave up on the idea of ​​going back to sleep. He changed out of his pajamas, picked up his beloved Nimbus 2000, and quietly left the dormitory, heading down to the common room.

Sitting by the fireplace in the common room, the sound of the storm grew louder. The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was only a few hours away, and Harry couldn't imagine himself battling through such a tempest.

But Quidditch matches wouldn't be canceled because of a thunderstorm. Harry recalled Diggory standing in front of Lyra in the corridor: a fifth-year boy, strong and much taller than him.

He certainly couldn't compare to Diggory, after all, they were two grades apart! But he was certain he would grow taller and catch up to Diggory sooner or later, but by then Lyra would be graduating soon...

No, think more about the game—Harry shook his head, warning himself not to get distracted—the Seeker is usually someone who is light and agile, which is an advantage for him, while Diggory seems a bit too clumsy.

But Diggory's steering and gear changes are very quick!

But he's always been known for his speed—and his father was a Seeker for Gryffindor; he inherited the Potter family's talent.

But today's storm is too strong; Diggory's weight is definitely an advantage in this kind of weather, at least he won't be blown off his feet by the wind...

Harry's mind was a jumbled mess, like the Willow branches torn into a tangled heap by a strong wind. One moment he felt he had the talent, a good broom, and a chance against Diggory; the next he thought Diggory was older and stronger, could easily knock him off his broom, and was very popular with girls...

Harry's head was churning with conflicting thoughts and emotions, and just as he was starting to feel a headache coming on, a ginger cat slipped into the common room and darted straight towards the boys' dormitory—

Wait, it's going to their dorm to catch Ron's mouse!

Harry jumped up and pounced on the cat, managing to grab its tail at the dormitory door and pull it back.

“There are a lot of rats outside, don’t disturb Scabbers.” Harry pushed the cat down the stairs. He watched as the cat reluctantly went downstairs and lay down on the softest sofa in the lounge.

"Woof!" A swallowtail dog slipped in from outside the lounge. As soon as it entered, it sniffed and immediately spotted the cat on the sofa.

Harry recognized it as Lyra's dog, I think its name was Belle. This was the same dog that had caused a ruckus in the common room with Hermione's cat, trying to catch Ron's mouse.

Hermione is right, it's only natural for a cat to catch a mouse, but isn't it meddling for a dog to catch a mouse? Why are both the cat and the dog so interested in Ron's mouse?

"Meow—" The cat stood up on the sofa and let out a long, threatening meow. Before Harry could react, the cat jumped off the sofa and the cat and dog quickly started fighting.

"!" Harry quickly came down the stairs and went over to try to separate the two furry balls that were baring their claws, then subtly began to take sides—he felt that the cat was too fierce and Lyra's dog needed some extra favoritism and protection.

But this large ginger cat was too clever for its own good—as Ron said, it was strange and seemed to be able to read people's minds.

It easily detected Harry's favoritism, quickly ended its fight with the swallow-tailed dog, and while Harry was looking down to check if the puppy had been scratched, it darted back up the stairs—

With a clear objective, they headed back to the room where the rat was.