**Chapter 31: Dylan's Way of Relieving Stress**

Dylan believed that reading any knowledge in Potions just once was absolutely unacceptable.

Doing so could easily lead to overlooking important details.

Only through repeated reading could one truly internalize the knowledge from the book.

When it came to Potions, Dylan felt that many of the key concepts were intricate and complex, with too many details that needed to be memorized.

Otherwise, it was highly likely that a small, seemingly insignificant mistake could lead to the failure of the entire potion-making process.

With Snape, the Potions Master, personally tutoring him, Dylan didn't want to waste time on trivial errors.

Thus, the Gryffindor and Slytherin students saw Dylan sitting by himself in the distance, pulling out a book and reading it with great interest.

The two groups stood apart, wanting to argue but not daring to.

The Slytherins were worried that if they made too much noise, Dylan might hit them all with a Silencing Charm.

They hadn't learned this spell yet!

As a result, they had no idea how to counter it.

While the general counter-spell, *Finite Incantatem*, wasn't a high-level charm, many of the young wizards could use it.

But how to use their *Finite Incantatem* to break Dylan's spell was another question entirely.

Someone had already tried it earlier, and it simply didn't work!

As for the Gryffindors, they simply didn't want to disturb Dylan while he was reading.

After all, the more Dylan knew, the more it reflected well on Gryffindor!

And the less the Slytherins knew, the better!

So, the more Dylan knew, the less the Slytherins knew!

As long as they could outshine the Slytherins, the Gryffindors were more than willing to cheer Dylan on, no matter what he did.

Hogwarts, hooray—!!!

For a while, the two groups just glared at each other, but not a word was spoken.

The students from both houses stood there, eyeing each other, the atmosphere tense yet strangely quiet.

This continued until Madam Hooch returned with Neville.

Only then did Dylan put away his book and stand up.

"Fortunately, Mr. Longbottom wasn't seriously injured. The only scrape on his knee was healed by your spell," Madam Hooch said.

Dylan nodded slightly.

"Alright, students, now you understand how dangerous flying can be, don't you?"

Madam Hooch had everyone line up again and continued the lesson.

By the end of the class, both Harry and Malfoy had shown impressive flying skills.

Dylan, on the other hand, flew decently but didn't stand out.

After class, Ron sidled up to Dylan, whispering excitedly, "You were so cool back there! You totally shut those Slytherins up—none of them dared to talk back to you!"

"I honestly think you'd make a perfect Slytherin!"

Ron muttered to himself, nodding.

"Yeah, if you weren't from a Muggle family, you'd definitely be in Slytherin! Even Snape would be wary of you!"

Dylan glanced at him and then raised his wand.

This kid really had a big mouth.

Should he hit him with a *Diffindo* or a *Crucio*?

Seeing Dylan raise his wand, Ron immediately ducked behind Harry.

"Hey, Harry! Did you see Malfoy's face when Madam Hooch praised your flying skills and recommended you for the Quidditch team? He looked like a squashed pumpkin!"

Harry chuckled.

The group headed to the Great Hall for dinner.

As they sat down, Harry mentioned, "Madam Hooch said she's taking me somewhere later."

"She's definitely recommending you for the Quidditch team! A first-year on the team! The Slytherins are going to be so mad!" Ron exclaimed, thrilled.

Dylan paid no attention to their conversation and focused on his dinner.

During the flying lesson, he had felt like he could control the broomstick more freely.

But he chose not to show off, as he didn't want any professor to recommend him for the Quidditch team.

"I'll buy a Nimbus 2000 and practice early in the morning when no one's around," Dylan thought to himself.

He picked up a freshly served steak.

The steak sizzled, its rich aroma mingling with a hint of cream and fresh pepper.

The food at Hogwarts was far superior to the bland meals he usually ate.

Take this steak, for example.

The edges were slightly charred, and the juices had pooled into a glossy puddle on the plate.

He cut a small piece and put it in his mouth. The first thing he noticed was the perfect balance of a crispy exterior and tender, juicy meat inside.

As he chewed, the rich flavor of the beef, combined with the creamy and peppery notes, spread across his tongue.

"Did the house-elves use some kind of magic while cooking? The texture and taste are completely different from the steaks I've had outside," Dylan wondered.

If such magic existed, he wanted to learn it. That way, he could cook meals that were more than just edible.

The evening sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the wooden tables and the food on his plate.

Dylan was completely absorbed in the moment. The usual stress from his studies faded into the background, leaving only the food and a sense of peace.

This was Dylan's way of relieving stress.

In truth, even as he constantly absorbed knowledge, he couldn't help but feel a subtle pressure building up.

This was normal. Pressure existed, and it needed an outlet.

His achievements only meant that he didn't need to rely on negative emotions to cast Dark Magic, but it didn't mean he never felt negative emotions.

If the pressure built up too much, it could become a burden and even turn into negative emotions.

At that point, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't lose his temper and cast a Bombardment Spell, or maybe a *Reducto* or *Diffindo*, at someone who annoyed him.

So, during these brief moments at dinner, Dylan would focus entirely on the food, letting the stress dissipate with each bite.

However, just as he was enjoying his peace, trouble found its way to him.

Malfoy and his gang stormed into the Great Hall, quickly spotting Dylan and marching over.

Dylan didn't even glance at them.

But when Malfoy saw Dylan, his bravado faltered.

After a moment of hesitation, and under the watchful eyes of his lackeys, Malfoy stepped forward.

(End of Chapter)