Quidditch itself didn't appeal to Damon.
But when he saw Hermione playing, embarrassed and even irritated by the Bludgers, he couldn't help but cheer up.
Perhaps because Damon was watching, the Slytherin team didn't resort to any tricks, but surprisingly, they still took first place. The students from other houses didn't share their fierce determination. When they got serious, they took this fun match far more seriously than the other houses.
According to the girls who went on a date afterwards, they formed their teams in just an hour, organized by Gemma Farley. They immediately handed in their homework to the other students, practiced non-stop until four in the morning, and then took a stimulating potion the next day.
"Do you think this victory is a bit despicable?"the fourth-year student said with some trepidation. She had chosen Honeydukes, a candy shop frequented by many couples, for their date.
"No, rather, I kind of admire you guys,"
Damon said with a soothing smile. He didn't like the Slytherins' unscrupulous pursuit of victory, but he did admire their professionalism, their willingness to seize every opportunity to win.
Strangely enough, despite Gemma's warmth towards him, he couldn't really say he had any fondness for Slytherins.
But at this moment, right now, he did have a slight fondness for them.
Men are naturally drawn to professionalism—even if you're showing them trimming a donkey's hoof or cutting fruit, as long as the presentation is professional enough, they'll be fascinated.
Damon felt that way right now.
However, two hours was short, and he hadn't gotten to know the girl in front of him much before the next 'winner' was urging him on.
"Well, time's up, shouldn't it be my turn?"
"Yeah, of course."
Damon smiled and stood up, feeling like a Japanese hostess, constantly receiving customers—well, but even this experience was new, so he still found it quite enjoyable.
Not to mention that the girls in each grade have different personalities, each offering Damon a refreshing experience and a chance to understand the diverse personalities of Slytherin students.
"So, are our Slytherin girls excellent?"
Near the Black Lake at night, a gigolo, who had diligently served customers all day, was now receiving his last customer.
It was Gemma Farley.
Someone didn't know how she'd managed to secure the prime time slot between 6 PM and 8 PM, even convincing the seventh graders.
"It's true, but sometimes the thoughts I unintentionally reveal can be a bit cruel—for a girl, being too cold can be a bit scary."
"That's the kind of person only mediocre people should be wary of—it's those people we want to scare away."
Gemma sat beside Damon, a light, neutral scent of violets filling his heart. "Does that really scare you?"
"Scare away mediocre people? Who did they offend?"
Damon, who considered himself a mediocre person, jokingly defended himself.
"It's not a question of offending anyone," Gemma explained patiently. "Our time is precious and it's not worth wasting on mediocre people. If we have to spend specific time to screen them, it would be too much of a luxury for us.
Can't you understand? If we know that fools are afraid of smart people, we will arm ourselves to look smart so that fools won't approach us.
Sometimes, the reason why people attract some terrible people is that they themselves need to find the reason. Is it because they don't dress themselves well, so that anyone can get close to them?
If you appear easily taken advantage of, then naturally, people will try to take advantage of you. It's a very realistic problem."
"Interesting argument—by making yourself unattainable, you're filtering out those who are mediocre and have low self-esteem?"
"That's just about girls. It applies to life as well—just like you. You're so cold and indifferent to everyone, so those without real talent don't dare approach you, and you don't come into contact with those mediocre people.
Think about it, if people came to you every day asking them to teach them spells, how could you teach them? But because you put on a cold face, naturally, no one dared to bother you."
"Although I don't think the way you say, I can't deny that you have some truth to it."
Damon leaned against the tree, feeling the cool breeze from the Black Lake. Suddenly, he felt a little tired. Gemma mustered the courage to move closer to him and whispered in his ear:
"The tree trunk is too hard. You can lean on my legs. " "
"
Damon did as he was told.
Well, it was soft, not very comfortable on his neck, but it still felt quite fragrant - Gemma's scent was very pleasant, which made Damon feel from the bottom of his heart that this girl had good taste.
Presumably, it took a lot of trial and error.
"Can I touch you?"
Damon heard her voice trembling, her voice was as cold as the frost mist on the Black Lake at night, but with a strange heat.
"We are now a temporary two-hour couple, you don't have to ask me everything."
He squinted his eyes, feeling the fine hairs on his face blown by the wind, which was very comfortable.
"A temporary couple?"
the girl's voice tinged with sadness.
A hand caressed Damon's face, bringing a slight chill.
For her aesthetic, she'd dressed in summer attire—a white shirt with a black tie, a short skirt with black leggings, and a pair of small leather shoes.
The wind was strong near the lake, and she felt a bit chilly.
But even more than the chill, she didn't want her image to be any less impressive.
For the next few moments, neither of them spoke.
Gemma understood Damon's intentions, and she didn't have the courage to make another move.
She convinced herself to savor this precious moment.
For over an hour, she'd been obsessed with the same thing: should she kiss the captivating boy before her?
But as she'd said before, Damon acted too aloof, and Gemma simply didn't dare. She couldn't imagine how things would turn out, or the potential consequences of such an action.
So, by the time Damon left, she'd left without making any move. It was her first time falling in love, and she had no experience.
Ten years later, she'd definitely kissed him.
But now, she simply couldn't.
"I just sat with him foolishly by the Black Lake for two hours, feeling the freezing wind, desperately trying to feel the warmth of his head resting on my knees, as if relying on this little warmth, I could live a sweet life forever."
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(End of this chapter)