This was probably the most extraordinary Quidditch match Hogwarts had seen in a century.
Hufflepuff, who had been unfairly targeted throughout the entire match, won the ga, yet none of them felt any joy. They celebrated briefly and symbolically before hurrying back to the Changing Rooms.
Gryffindor, who hadn't been the target of Snape's ire, lost once again, and naturally, they weren't pleased either.
Even many of the spectators found their enthusiasm dampened by the incessant fouls and sat down in the hope the ga would end soon.
If anyone was satisfied with the match, it was Snape, the referee. With his enchanted whistle, he'd managed to turn the ga into a personal show, focusing on Kyle and preventing Harry from seizing the Golden Snitch.
I never knew being a Quidditch referee could be so entertaining. I might try it again soti, Snape thought, feeling thoroughly satisfied as he dismounted his broom, especially when he saw the pale faces of Kyle and Harry. He couldn't rember feeling this pleased, not even the first ti he brewed Felix Felicis.
"He really ought to die!"
In the Hufflepuff Changing Rooms, Harris was pounding the wall in fury.
"A thirty-minute match, and Professor Snape... he actually called twenty-one fouls on us! I've never seen anything so outrageous."
"Even at the Quidditch World Cup in 1473, the average was only one foul every two minutes!"
"If Snape is refereeing the next match, we refuse to participate!"
Everyone nodded in agreent; they had no desire to endure another match as miserable as today's. This was especially true for Kyle, who had been the target of all twenty-one fouls—staying in the ga to the end was an achievent in itself.
Instead of staying with his teammates, Kyle left the Changing Rooms alone, hoping to find sowhere to clear his mind. The Forbidden Forest seed like a good option, except that Hagrid had been keeping a close watch lately. Kyle was spotted the mont he arrived and was taken straight back to Hagrid's hut.
"I watched the match; it wasn't your fault," Hagrid said, pouring Kyle a cup of tea to comfort him. "Professor Snape doesn't seem to know Quidditch very well, and everyone could see you didn't commit any fouls."
"I've heard that a few tis already, Hagrid," Kyle replied, taking a sip of tea. "Are you really not going to let go to the Forbidden Forest?"
"No, Kyle," Hagrid replied sternly. "The Forbidden Forest is too dangerous right now. If it'd been anyone else, I'd have sent them straight back to the castle and reported them to a professor, costing them quite a few points."
Seeing Hagrid's resolve, Kyle decided not to press further. In truth, if he'd really wanted to go to the Forbidden Forest, he could've used the Cloak of Invisibility or the Disillusionnt Charm, and Hagrid would never have noticed. But there was no need for that. There were plenty of other places he could go for a walk; the Forbidden Forest wasn't the only option.
After leaving Hagrid's hut, Kyle ran into Harry by the Black Lake.
"Potter, are you here to see Hagrid too?"
"No... well, yes," Harry replied, looking a little uneasy. "I just... don't want to keep listening to people trying to comfort ."
"Understandable." Kyle patted him on the shoulder. "Go on, then; Hagrid was just talking about you."
With that, Kyle turned to leave. But before he'd taken two steps, Harry suddenly called out, "Wait..."
"What's up?"
"Kyle... did you see anyone strange just now?"
"Strange? How do you an?"
"Well... soone in a hood or sothing..."
Kyle thought for a mont, then shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't notice anything like that. But you could ask Hagrid. If anyone strange was headed for the Forbidden Forest, he might have seen them."
"Okay... thanks."
"You're welco."
After saying goodbye to Harry, Kyle turned and made his way back to the castle.
Now Kyle finally understood what Harry had ant.
Almost everyone, whether they knew him or not, would approach him with a few words of sympathy whenever they spotted him. And more and more people were coming his way.
Kyle quickened his pace and headed to the library for a bit of peace. Madam Pince helped him clear out anyone who wasn't there to read, giving him a temporary sanctuary. Hiding behind the bookshelves, he cast the Disillusionnt Charm on himself, slipped out, and made his way up the revolving staircase to the Room of Requirent on the eighth floor.
After half a school year of diligent effort, he had gradually moved the mature plants from his flower garden into his enchanted suitcase. However, those that were still growing remained here for the ti being.
The Room of Requirent offered a more suitable environnt for magical plants to thrive. After all, creating rain or adjusting the weather within a suitcase wasn't exactly feasible—at least, not with his current abilities.
The sa went for his Mooncalves. They would need to stay here for a while longer, until he'd fully finished modifying the suitcase for them.
Because he had planted so many plants at the beginning of the school year, even though he'd moved a batch already, the garden didn't look empty in the slightest—in fact, it was quite crowded.
Seeing the plants flourishing in their beds imdiately lifted Kyle's spirits.
I can see why Professor Sprout and Newt Scamander found this so rewarding, he thought. Whether with plants or magical creatures, watching them grow bit by bit really was deeply fulfilling.
Kyle made his way through a row of large pots of Chomping Cabbage and reached the back of the room, where a patch of land was dedicated to the Venomous Tentacula.
This vine-like plant shared so traits with Devil's Snare, as both had a tendency to wrap around any nearby living things. However, the Venomous Tentacula was far more dangerous. Unlike Devil's Snare, it thrived in sunlight and was highly toxic; a prick from its barbs or a bite could be deadly.
This was the primary reason it was classified as a Class C Non-Tradeable Material by the Ministry of Magic.
Nevertheless, the Venomous Tentacula grew relatively slowly. Even with a daily dose of Mooncalf manure as fertilizer, it had only managed to sprout a thin shoot, and its characteristic spikes were still just a few tiny, black dots.
The Fanged Geranium on the other side was at a similar stage.
The Chomping Cabbage, however, was thriving, with a short growth cycle and convenience to boot. Despite being planted on the sa day, these had already sprouted sharp teeth.
Ever since Kyle had arrived at the flowerbed, he could hear their teeth clattering, creating a brisk, fast-paced rhythm.
Returning to the Chomping Cabbage, Kyle took out his suitcase from the Mokeskin pouch, picked so of the healthiest and most vigorous ones, and carefully placed them inside.
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