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Dylan's eyelashes fluttered so hard that he nearly swiped at Professor McGonagall, making her momentarily recoil.
Realizing his awkwardness, he scratched his head in embarrassment and laughed.
Professor McGonagall let out a soft chuckle in response.
She raised her wand, and the cup of water beside her floated into the air and hovered in front of her.
"Please come again."
"Lactea repleta!"
Sizzle~
The cup instantly filled with milk tea, and a rich, mellow aroma spread through the air.
Professor McGonagall's eyebrows lifted in curiosity as she examined the steaming drink.
Then she looked up at Dylan.
"Is this tea?"
"Milk tea," Dylan replied with a smile.
Professor McGonagall's expression turned amused. "So whether I want tea or milk, you'll give me this?"
Dylan nodded. "Professor, you're so smart!"
Professor McGonagall shook her head with a small laugh and swirled the cup lightly in her hand.
A delicate layer of foam floated on the surface, and the color was inviting.
Intrigued by the enticing aroma, she took a sip.
Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
"It has a smooth texture, just the right amount of sweetness, and a pleasant tea aroma."
A hint of approval appeared in her gaze.
"Although it's a product of magic, the taste is surprisingly good, Mr. Hawkwood. It seems you've made some rather interesting progress in spellwork."
Dylan's eyes lit up at the praise.
"Oh, I'm glad you like it, Professor!"
He picked up his own cup and took a sip.
"Summoning is a branch of Transfiguration. While studying Transfiguration, I accidentally discovered a new variation of the Summoning Spell. That's how I ended up with this little experiment. I didn't expect it to work so well."
Professor McGonagall took another sip before placing the cup down. She regarded Dylan with kind, approving eyes, a rare smile forming on her lips.
"If I'm not mistaken, this should be a variation of Qingshui Ruquan, correct?"
Dylan nodded slightly. "It was indeed an inspiration."
"This could be considered the creation of a new spell. I'm surprised you managed to do this."
Her gaze turned serious as she suddenly changed the subject.
"But spell research is dangerous. If you ever wish to create new spells in the future, you may come to me. I can provide guidance."
"Ah, Professor, wouldn't that be too much trouble for you?" Dylan asked shyly, though he secretly felt pleased.
"It's no trouble. I haven't seen such a creative spell in a long time." Professor McGonagall smiled. "It's refreshing to witness such ingenuity from a young wizard."
Dylan chuckled. "As for this spell, I only adjusted its sweetness and flavor."
"I'm currently researching how to make the toppings appear directly. Otherwise, it's not real milk tea."
"No rush, Dylan. Actually, I wanted to ask you something."
Professor McGonagall's tone turned more serious.
Dylan's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral. "What is it, Professor?"
"It's about the Quidditch match," she said.
Huh?
Dylan breathed a sigh of relief but still blinked in surprise. "Quidditch match? What's wrong with it?"
Recently, a rumor had spread that Harry had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
It drove Oliver Wood mad.
Harry had been his secret weapon, a player he had groomed in secret, waiting for the right moment to showcase his skills in the competition. But now, the secret was out.
"The match is in two days. Are you interested in joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"
Dylan was stunned. "Me? Professor, why would you ask that? My flying skills aren't that great."
Professor McGonagall straightened her posture. "Don't try to fool me. I watch every flying lesson. I've noticed that you're not bad at flying—you're just holding back, playing it safe."
Dylan realized that his attempt to downplay his flying skills had been discovered.
"You're quite perceptive," he admitted, rubbing his nose.
Professor McGonagall smiled knowingly. "My knowledge of flying is no less than Madam Hooch's."
Dylan considered it and realized she was right. As a passionate Quidditch fan, her understanding of flying was undoubtedly profound.
"I can tell that when you study spells, you appear daring, yet you are actually very meticulous. And when you fly, you are cautious to the point of perfection. That tells me your fundamentals are exceptionally strong."
Dylan smirked.
Was she praising him?
Indeed, he could fly at incredibly high speeds.
However, his instinct was always to maintain precise control over his movements, ensuring that there was no margin for error.
It wasn't fear of falling—it was his meticulous nature at play.
"Thank you for the compliment, but there's far too much magical knowledge for me to explore. I'm afraid I can't commit to the team," Dylan said, shaking his head.
Seeing that Professor McGonagall was about to persuade him further, he added, "Besides, I'm just not that interested in Quidditch."
That sentence put an immediate halt to her efforts.
"Well, everyone has their own interests. You can't force it," she said with a hint of regret.
Later That Evening
Harry approached Dylan excitedly.
"Hey, Dylan! The Quidditch match is in two days. You'll come watch, right?"
"Uh..." Dylan hesitated.
But seeing the sheer excitement in Harry's eyes—his eager expression shining like two bright spotlights—Dylan sighed and nodded.
"I'll be there."
"Great!" Harry practically jumped for joy.
Match Day
11:00 AM
The entire Hogwarts student body filled the stands, eager for the game.
The golden, white, and black hues of their heads mixed together like a field of mushrooms.
Dylan arrived just in time, hurrying over from the library.
When he reached the seat Ron had saved for him, he looked up and was greeted by an... interesting sight.
Seamus and Ron were holding up a makeshift banner.
It was made from a dirty bedsheet, with large inked letters scrawled across it:
"POTTER IS THE BEST!!!"
Yes, there were three exclamation marks.
Dylan stared at the ragged sheet flapping above him, his entire expression one of shock.
He scratched his cheek. "What is that?"
"A cheer banner!" Ron said enthusiastically.
Dylan glanced at Hermione, seeking help.
Instead, she simply waved her wand, and the inked words on the sheet began glowing, becoming more vivid and eye-catching.
Dylan's eyes widened. "You..."
"Harry is definitely going to win!" Hermione declared confidently.
(End of Chapter 47)
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