Conflict, Whispers

On the weekend, the entirety of Hogwarts seemed deserted—almost every student was at the Quidditch Pitch. This time, it was a match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

As a Ravenclaw himself, Wade naturally joined his classmates in the stands.

In truth, Wade had always been completely uninterested in Quidditch. While the feeling of flying freely on a broomstick was certainly great, risking a broken neck to play a game fifty feet in the air seemed utterly foolish to him.

The experience as a spectator wasn't much better. The Golden Snitch was so tiny that, apart from an occasional flash of gold, it was practically invisible. The Seekers mostly seemed to just fly aimlessly high up. The speed of the other players sometimes surpassed cars on a highway, with the small Quaffle and Bludgers zipping rapidly between players. Wade suspected most people couldn't even tell what was happening in the game, relying entirely on the commentary to know when to cheer.

Yet, the students still loved the sport—of course, anyone confined to a boarding school, studying all day, would love any group activity unrelated to academics—even weeding the lawn or picking up trash along nearby streets.

Wade was an exception, as the joy and sense of accomplishment he derived from studying magic surpassed all forms of competition.

Suddenly, a roaring cheer erupted from the stands. Wade paused for a moment before politely clapping along with his classmates—

Ravenclaw had won the match.

The Seeker was an older boy who held his right hand high, the Golden Snitch's wings fluttering between his fingers. He circled the Pitch at high speed on his broom, displaying the Golden Snitch for everyone to see. Countless people stretched out their hands, eager to high-five him like a big celebrity.

"Ravenclaw! Ravenclaw! Ravenclaw!"

In the stands, even the Gryffindor students were shouting along—seeing Slytherin lose made them happier than anything else.

The Slytherin students left with grim faces.

"We're not far behind Hufflepuff in points, and we beat Slytherin—" On the way back to the castle, Michael excitedly calculated the scores from the two matches. "Maybe Ravenclaw can win the Quidditch Cup this time!"

"You're never this enthusiastic about the House Cup!" Wade retorted.

"How can that be the same?" Michael said dismissively. "I heard Shuraya, who's in third year, say that even if you win the House Cup, all that happens is the Great Hall decorations are changed to your house colors at the end-of-term feast—what's the point?"

In fact, many Ravenclaws shared Michael's indifferent attitude towards the House Cup. High scores were fine, low scores were fine, even coming in last didn't matter. They didn't really try to earn more points for their house in classes.

"But the Quidditch Cup doesn't have any other rewards either!" Wade said.

"But it's Quidditch!" Michael's eyes widened. "Winning the Quidditch Cup is the greatest honor."

Suddenly, a very loud sneer came from nearby.

Malfoy, with his two sidekicks, sauntered over, lowering his voice. "Just winning one match makes you so smug? Don't forget, the House Cup has been ours for the past six years! And Ravenclaw's—"

He glared darkly at Wade, spitting out a word full of malice: "—Mudblood."

Michael angrily drew his Wand. "How dare you—"

Malfoy jumped back, threatening, "The professors are right behind us. Do you dare to lay a hand on me?"

"Why wouldn't I dare!" Michael fumed. "It'll be good for the professors to know what you said!"

He was about to cast a curse but was stopped by Wade's hand.

"Malfoy," Wade said calmly. "You really should look in a mirror—see how ugly you look right now, being so vile and malicious."

Malfoy was momentarily speechless, taking a while to think of a comeback, finally resorting to attacking Wade's bloodline again. "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 tries to bite you, just kick it away. You can't exactly lie down and bite it back, can you?"

Michael, whether because he had a low laugh threshold or because he imagined the scene, immediately burst into uncontrollable laughter. Even some students passing by couldn't help but smile, casting teasing glances at the Slytherins.

Hearing those snickering laughs, Malfoy felt as if steel blades were scraping his face. He trembled with rage, almost throwing a curse.

But ultimately, the deterrent effect of the nearby professors was stronger, forcing Malfoy to suppress his temper.

He stomped quickly towards the castle, gnashing his teeth with hatred as he thought of the two humiliations Wade had inflicted upon him. Crabbe and Goyle hurried after him, their faces looking foolish, as if they understood nothing.

Malfoy heard the voices of people around him, feeling as if they were all mocking him. Suddenly, he actually heard his name—

"Malfoy and Wade had another conflict... He must really hate Wade now, right?" A girl's voice sounded somewhat worried.

Malfoy recognized the voice as Padma, a Ravenclaw, who seemed to have a good relationship with Wade. He subconsciously hid behind a pillar to eavesdrop, motioning for Crabbe and Goyle to quickly hide too.

The two chubby boys exchanged a look, then reluctantly hid behind Malfoy, looking like a string of candied haws.

Another similar voice—Parvati said, "Of course, he's a Pure-blood Malfoy, after all!"

"Do you think Malfoy is still using the Book of Friends Wade invented?" Padma asked.

"Huh?" Parvati paused, then vaguely said, "That... he probably would..."

"I don't think so either," Padma said with a giggle. "Otherwise, it'd be pretty ridiculous for him to be cursing Wade while still using something Wade invented, don't you think?"

"Right... right... right," Parvati stammered.

She was a bit confused—who would give up something so useful just for an argument? And the Book of Friends wasn't cheap...

But seeing Padma's certainty, and then thinking about her own unfinished Potions Class assignment, Parvati wisely shut her mouth.

Padma's peripheral vision caught sight of a string of figures behind the pillar, and a cunning smile appeared on her lips.

...

The girls walked away arm-in-arm.

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

"Go keep an eye on Wade Gray for me!" Malfoy said viciously. "See when he goes to the Potions classroom! I won't let that guy off!"

He replayed the most powerful and malicious curses he knew in his mind—

Killing Curse... Cruciatus Curse... Entrail-Expelling Curse... no, he didn't know those... Densaugeo... Leg-Locker Curse... Incendio

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