The Forbidden Forest was vast, and after two laps, night had already fallen.
On the way back, he couldn't help but pass by the Third Greenhouse, looking at the thriving Mandrakes.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, a little curious.
"Nothing, just looking." Harry shook his head.
"They're ripe, they can be made into a drink to refresh you!" As he spoke, he swallowed hard, then could only give a thumbs up: "Delicious."
"...Alright." Hermione found it a bit hard to get used to Harry, who spoke in fits and starts and had a slight lisp.
After seeing the Mandrakes, the two hurried towards Hogwarts.
At this time, the Castle was quiet, the candles tired, and it was time for rest.
Before passing the Great Hall, Harry suddenly pulled Hermione back.
"Wait a minute."
"What is it?" Hermione looked nervously left and right, afraid that the noise here would attract Filch.
"The competition," Harry said succinctly, then a faint glow emanated from his hand, just enough to illuminate the bulletin board.
The two leaned closer, and indeed, new competition arrangements appeared on the bulletin board.
Saturday, Second-Year group.
Sunday was the Fifth-Year group.
Clearly, Howl had placed the more explosive senior competitions on the later day, to maintain the vitality of the competition.
However, as the two Second-Years involved, their focus was clearly not here.
"It's about to start?" Hermione whispered nervously.
"It's starting." Harry nodded: "Let's go, I'll see you up."
Back in the common room, Harry carefully unwrapped the Unicorn hair Hagrid had wound around his wand.
Hagrid's wand was very long, sixteen inches, and holding it was no different from holding a short sword.
The wand had been broken, but half of it was still connected; it seemed the material of the wand shaft had good toughness, which was why it hadn't snapped completely back then.
The core was Unicorn hair, half exposed, which made Harry involuntarily think of the triangular wafers eaten at Christmas, which would have a small piece of paper with words inside when bitten open.
Then, he carefully pieced the wand shaft together and began to observe the magical circuit in the cracks.
At the same time, he also pulled out his own wand as a reference.
He studied until two in the morning, and under the gaze of the magic paintings, he finally moved into the dormitory.
Soon, Saturday arrived, and as time passed, the weather gradually improved; yesterday's sky, which had been lead-grey, was bright today.
At breakfast, almost everyone Harry knew was discussing the competition.
Even Draco was no exception; he, who always prided himself on having good manners and never speaking during meals, began to chatter at the table.
"What if I draw a terrain I've never fought on?" He was a bit flustered; although he had been training, he hadn't really had experience fighting anyone recently.
"I heard that Professor's map library hasn't been fully explored yet, and what if he suddenly adds a lot of strange terrains on a whim?"
"Tsk tsk."
Harry didn't even look up, carefully cutting his sausage into very small pieces, then slowly putting them into his mouth.
Finally, Draco chattered for a long time and came to a conclusion.
Go practice for a while longer, until half past nine.
Harry shook his head, refusing the suggestion; he was going to the market with Hermione and wasn't interested in this guy.
After eating, the two walked out of the Great Hall, just about to part ways, when they suddenly saw Snape striding towards them.
Draco shrank his neck; he had already noticed Snape's scrutinizing gaze, seemingly looking for an excuse to make trouble.
"You're still going to participate in the competition?" Snape asked indifferently.
Harry tilted his head, not understanding what Snape wanted to say.
"I think allowing a mute to compete is an insult to the competition."
"Professor," Harry said softly, "I won't."
His tone was casual, meaning that he had no problem speaking.
But it only made Snape's face turn even uglier: "Do you think speaking normally is the same as speaking in battle?
Do you think when those people fight, their internal organs bleed out of their mouths?"
"Stupid!!"
That's blood from the inside of the mouth and teeth hitting each other!"
"Uh..."
"Contradicting a teacher, Slytherin loses three points!"
With that, Snape quickly waved his wand.
"Tongue-Tying Curse—"
"You don't need to keep equivocating and explaining anymore."
With that, he turned and left.
Draco looked awkwardly at Harry, who couldn't speak, and forced a smile: "Looks like he's very angry that you have something in your mouth but still want to compete."
"Uh..." Harry could only make such a sound. His teeth had already tightly wrapped the Mandrake on his tongue.
There would be no accidents whatsoever.
Harry could only wave his hand helplessly, shooing Draco away.
Harry could bet that Snape definitely hoped someone would give him a good beating right now.
Of course, protecting the Mandrake was certainly one aspect.
As he walked upstairs, Harry couldn't help but scratch his head helplessly.
The silent spell was troublesome.
If he encountered Hermione, then he probably wouldn't be able to fight; he didn't think the Transfiguration binding tactic he got from Draco would be effective. Duels weren't like Western gunfighter showdowns; a controller like Hermione would surely shift her position immediately.
"I'm not going, do you need me there for such a small matter?!"
"If I see you trembling here, you'll be in for it."
"Don't think I can't see what's happening in the arena just because I'm in the Castle!"
Grindelwald's aged roar came from a corridor on the second floor, and Harry immediately thought of Neville again.
What could be practiced in a week?
As someone who had experienced it, Harry knew that sometimes learning just one special, suitable spell was enough to change the tide of battle.
More troublesome...
At the same time, Hermione also came down from upstairs, and the two walked together towards the arena.
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