Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

Hogwarts in mid-September, even in the afternoon, was still a bit stuffy.

The three of Clark sat in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, and beads of sweat soon appeared on their foreheads.

For Harry on the field, this temperature is just right, neither too hot or too sunny, nor too cold because of flying.

The strong gust of wind slapped his cheeks. Compared with Wood's long speeches, it dispelled the sleepiness caused by not taking a nap, and made him much more awake.

What a great feeling to be back on the Quidditch pitch!

He flew around the field as fast as he could, racing George and Fred to see who was faster.

"Where's the clicking sound?" Hermione asked suddenly, watching them turn sharply.

The three of Clark turned their heads and looked towards the stands behind them. They saw a thin, gray-haired boy sitting in the highest row of seats, holding up a Muggle camera, taking pictures one after another.

Not only that, but he screamed, "Look this way, Harry!"

In the empty Quidditch pitch, the sound of the shutters was strangely amplified to stand out.

Gryffindor captain Wood apparently noticed this too, and Clark saw him fly to Harry and stop.

"What's going on?" Wood asked, frowning. "Why did that freshman take a picture? I don't like it. He might be a Slytherin spy, trying to spy on our new training plan."

"He's from Gryffindor," Harry explained quickly.

"And Slytherins don't need spies, Oliver," said George suddenly.

Wood glared at him violently, "How do you know?"

"Because they have come themselves." George said, pointing to the bottom of the court.

Several men in green robes entered the field, all holding broomsticks.

"I can't believe it!" Wood said indignantly, suppressing his voice, "I booked the stadium for today, let's see what they are going to do!"

Wood rushed to the ground, because of his anger, when he landed a little heavier than he expected, he stepped off the broom a little wobbly, and Harry, Fred and George followed.

Clark and the others also saw this situation, and hurriedly ran down the stands. While running,

Clark also pulled the little gray-haired boy who took the picture just now.

"Your name is Colin, right? I saw you at the sorting ceremony. You hid behind for a while. If something happens, remember to take a picture."

Colin looked at him ignorantly, wondering what he meant?

Clark had no choice but to emphasize again, "I am the deputy editor of the "Hogwarts School Journal". If you can take good photos, I can make you a special photographer for the school magazine."

Colin nodded in surprise, and obediently walked at the end.

When they came to the lawn of the stadium, they heard Wood yelling at the captain of the Slytherin team from a distance: "Flint! This is our training time. We specially chose the hot afternoon. The whole stadium, so please get out."

Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin team, who looked even bulkier than Wood, replied with trollish cunning: "It's a big place, Wood."

Alicia, Angelina and Katie from the Gryffindor team also followed the sound.

There were no girls in the Slytherin team, they were all big, big, big, big, big and thick, and they stood side by side in a row, squinting at the Gryffindor team members with exactly the same look.

The atmosphere between the two sides began to be tense.

"But I booked the stadium!" Wood snapped, "The whole stadium is booked!"

"Oh," said Flint, "but I don't have a note signed by Professor Snape."

He took the note and read: "I, Professor Cy Snape, have given permission for the Slytherins to train on the Quidditch pitch today, to train their new Seekers."

"You added a new Seeker?" Wood's attention was diverted, "Where is it?"

From behind the six tall Slytherin members flashed a smaller boy with a smug smile on his pale pointed face, it was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked in disgust.

"It's interesting that you actually mentioned Draco's father." All the members of the Slytherin team laughed even more proudly, "Then please take a look at the gift he generously gave to the Slytherin team."

The seven people lifted their broomsticks forward together. Seven brand new, smooth and shiny broomsticks, and seven lines of beautiful golden characters "Nimbus 2001", pierced the eyes of the Gryffindor players in the evening sun.

Clark, who squeezed forward, happened to see this scene.

"The latest model, just came out last month." Flint also saw him, but said indifferently.

The rest of the Slytherins, like their captain, didn't pay much attention to the junior wizard, even though he had been a hit at the dinner party last year.

Only Malfoy, when he saw Clark, his pale face became even more pale.

But looking at the team members around him, he still stood there without showing any weakness, and did not choose to retreat. Today he was training as a seeker.

At this moment Flint lightly dusted a bit of dust from the top of his broom, "I believe it is much faster than the original Nimbus 2000 series, as for the old sweep series..."

He smiled maliciously at Fred and George, each holding a handful of Sweeping Five Stars, "Use them to sweep the floor."

The Weasley twins gripped the broom tightly, but before they could speak, Clark, who had been standing by the side, suddenly asked.

"So, do you think that in Quidditch, anyone who doesn't have the money to buy a good broom doesn't deserve to play the sport?"

Flint looked at him, unaware of the trap in Clark's words.

"Of course, what's Quidditch without a broom?" Flint said, with an affected face. "But maybe the Gryffindor team can get some gold and buy a few brooms."

"You could have a lottery to sell those five-star sweeps, and I think the museum might pay a premium for them."

The Slytherins laughed hoarsely.

"At least none of the Gryffindor team needs to pay to join the team," Hermione couldn't help it, and said sharply, "They are all based on ability, not like some teams, what kind of rubbish Take all."

Flint's complacent face darkened, Malfoy sensed something was wrong and was about to persuade him, but it was too late.

"Nobody asked you, you stinky little Mudblood," he said viciously.

As soon as the words fell, a loud noise sounded in the stadium.

"boom!"