**Chapter 75: Slytherin's Provocation**

Until the Quidditch match started again.

During this time, Dylan hadn't ventured back into the Forbidden Forest.

After staying up late that night, he felt that even his focus in class had been affected.

Although he could use the "Reviving Charm" to stay somewhat alert, the physical fatigue was still very real. It couldn't be completely erased by the charm.

So, Dylan didn't want exploring the Forbidden Forest to become a burden that interfered with his daytime studies.

He went to the forest for two reasons: one was to complete his refinement tasks, and the other was to collect materials so he wouldn't always have to rely on Professor Snape's support for potion-making.

There were also some special potions he wanted to brew or experiment with, which he preferred to keep to himself.

Naturally, these materials had to be gathered by him.

If he went to the forest every day just to collect materials, it would be putting the cart before the horse, something Dylan wanted to avoid.

So, he decided to only visit the Forbidden Forest on weekends.

That way, even if he had to attend extra lessons with other professors, he would still have enough time to rest during the day.

Only with sufficient rest could he study effectively.

On the day of the Quidditch match, Harry heard a rumor from Ron.

Professor Dumbledore would be attending this match.

This lifted Harry's spirits, and he ultimately decided not to feign illness to avoid the match, despite his concerns about Quirrell's potential interference and Snape acting as the referee.

As everyone entered the stadium, Harry glanced at Dumbledore sitting in the teachers' section, feeling somewhat reassured.

But when he saw Professor Snape stepping into the referee's seat, his mood instantly soured.

"He's definitely going to watch me like a hawk and deduct points. He always finds a way!"

Just like during Potions class!

Dylan, sitting in the stands, couldn't help but laugh at Harry's gloomy expression.

Perhaps because of Snape's presence, Harry played with exceptional intensity throughout the match.

He even set a new record in Hogwarts Quidditch history.

—3 minutes and 24 seconds!

He caught the Golden Snitch at the critical moment when Snape tried to interfere!

All the Gryffindor students and teachers leapt to their feet in excitement.

Hermione's face was flushed with excitement as she jumped up and down, waving the Gryffindor flag—which was actually Neville's bedsheet.

Ron blew a sharp, piercing whistle, his voice cutting through the cheers.

Even Professor McGonagall was clapping enthusiastically, her face glowing with pride.

Dylan was also caught up in the excitement, even feeling the urge to cast a hundred Avada Kedavra chain-lightning spells to celebrate.

Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin stands, the atmosphere was completely different. The students there looked sullen and resentful.

Especially Malfoy, who was gritting his teeth, his fists clenched so tightly they made cracking sounds.

He couldn't stand seeing Gryffindor bask in the spotlight like this.

Especially when those he looked down on were now smugly throwing provocation looks his way!

Malfoy whispered something to a few students beside him, and soon two Slytherins made their way toward the Gryffindor stands.

The two of them walked aggressively, pretending to chat loudly as they went.

"What are these Gryffindor idiots so excited about? They only won by luck! What's there to be proud of?"

"Exactly! If the Golden Snitch hadn't practically flown into Potter's hand, there's no way they would've won so quickly!"

"Winning by sheer luck and still acting so smug? They clearly don't understand the real skill of Quidditch!"

"And luck doesn't favor fools forever! Especially not half-blood fools!"

"Hmph, without noble bloodlines, even if they're wizards, their parents are just pathetic Muggles—the lowest of the low—"

Many Gryffindor students frowned upon hearing these insulting remarks.

Some glared at the two Slytherins, ready to confront them.

But the two first-year Slytherins, seemingly eager to provoke more Gryffindors, kept pacing near the edge of the stands.

Then, in a moment of carelessness, one of them slipped and lost his balance. The larger of the two plummeted straight down from the stands.

The smaller one tried to grab him but ended up being pulled down as well.

The crowd gasped in shock.

Dylan was dumbfounded by the sheer stupidity of these two.

Who could be so foolish as to try and provoke others, only to end up falling off the stands themselves?

Since they were far from the teachers' section, no one seemed to notice what had happened.

Dylan had no choice but to pick up his wand.

Just like in the flying class, when he had used a charm to cushion Neville's fall.

"Retardo Motus (Slow-Motion Charm)!"

"Arresto Momentum (Cushioning Charm)!"

In truth, he could have simply used a Levitation Charm to pull them back up.

But why should he?

Let them take a little fall. It might teach them a lesson.

The charms took effect.

The cries of the two figures—one fat, one thin—were abruptly cut off.

They had both landed on the Quidditch pitch.

Dylan's spells had only softened their fall at the last moment.

Dylan walked to the edge of the stands and looked down. The two were clutching their backsides, clearly in pain but unable to cry out.

"Well, a little lesson for their backsides won't hurt."

The match's referee—Professor Snape—noticed the commotion and strode over, his brow furrowed.

He immediately spotted the two Slytherin students lying on the pitch.

"You two…"

Snape's face darkened as he began to question them, but Dylan suddenly stepped forward, standing in front of Snape.

"Professor, your Slytherin students came over to insult us after Harry won the match. But before we could even respond, they fell off the stands."

Dylan sighed with feigned helplessness. "Luckily, I used the Slow-Motion and Cushioning Charms, so they weren't seriously hurt."

"I really don't understand why they did this, but it seems they've already paid the price for their rudeness."

Snape, clad in his black robes, stood imposingly in front of the Gryffindor stands.

The Gryffindor students who had been ready to confront the two Slytherins quickly retreated, their courage fading under Snape's cold gaze.

Hearing Dylan's explanation, Snape swept a frosty glare over the Gryffindor crowd.

(End of Chapter)