Hogwarts : Max Level Unforgivable Curse

Dylan's eyelashes fluttered so much that he nearly gave Professor McGonagall a cold with the breeze they created.

After realizing what had happened, he awkwardly scratched his head and let out a nervous laugh.

Professor McGonagall also chuckled softly.

With a wave of her wand, the water cup beside her moved toward her.

"Please, try it again."

"*Lactea repleta!*"

*Sizzle, sizzle~*

The cup was quickly filled with milk tea, its rich aroma wafting through the air.

Professor McGonagall couldn't help but reach out, first examining the magically conjured beverage.

Then she looked up at Dylan.

"Is this tea?"

"Milk tea," Dylan replied with a slight smile.

Professor McGonagall caught on: "So, no matter if I asked for tea or milk, you would have given me this?"

Dylan nodded. "You're very perceptive, Professor!"

Professor McGonagall chuckled, shaking her head, then swirled the cup gently.

The surface of the milk tea was topped with a layer of fine foam, its color enticing.

As the aroma reached her nose, Professor McGonagall took a small sip.

Suddenly, her eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by the flavor.

"Smooth texture, just the right level of sweetness, and a pleasant tea fragrance," she remarked.

A hint of approval flickered in her eyes.

"Though it's a product of magic, the taste is quite delightful. Mr. Hockwood, it seems you've made some fascinating progress in your spellwork."

Dylan's eyes lit up at the praise.

"I'm glad you like it, Professor."

He picked up his own cup of milk tea and took a sip.

"Conjuration falls under the branch of Transfiguration. While studying Transfiguration, I stumbled upon a new discovery in Conjuration spells, which led to this little experiment. I didn't expect it to work so well."

Professor McGonagall took another sip, then set the cup down. Her gaze was warm and kind, and a rare smile played on her lips.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is a variation of the *Aguamenti* charm, isn't it?"

Dylan nodded slightly. "Yes, it was inspired by that."

"This could almost be considered the creation of a new spell. I'm quite impressed that you've managed to achieve this."

Professor McGonagall smiled, then suddenly shifted the topic.

"However, spell creation can be dangerous. If you ever wish to experiment with new spells in the future, feel free to come to me. I can provide guidance."

"Oh, wouldn't that be too much trouble for you, Professor?" Dylan said, trying to sound modest despite his inner excitement.

"Not at all. It's been a long time since I've seen such creativity in spellwork," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes lingering on Dylan. "And in a young wizard, no less."

Dylan grinned. "As for this spell, I only adjusted the sweetness and flavor."

"I'm still researching how to conjure the toppings directly. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a proper milk tea."

"There's no rush, Dylan. Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you," Professor McGonagall said, her tone shifting.

"What is it, Professor?" Dylan's heart skipped a beat, though he managed to keep his expression neutral, showing only mild curiosity.

"It's about the Quidditch match," Professor McGonagall said.

"Huh?" Dylan blinked, both relieved and puzzled. "The Quidditch match? What about it?"

Recently, someone had leaked the news that Harry had joined the Quidditch team, driving Wood nearly insane.

Harry was Wood's secret weapon, carefully trained to soar during the match. Now that the secret was out, Wood was beside himself.

"The match is in two days. Would you be interested in joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

Dylan was taken aback. "Me? Professor, why would you ask that? My flying skills aren't exactly top-notch."

Professor McGonagall sat up straighter. "No need to be modest around me. I've been watching during your flying lessons. I noticed that you're not actually bad at flying—you're just overly cautious."

Hearing this, Dylan realized that Professor McGonagall had seen through his attempts to downplay his flying abilities.

"Well, I suppose you could say that," Dylan said, scratching his nose.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "My understanding of flying is no less than Madam Hooch's."

Dylan thought about it and realized she was right. Professor McGonagall was a seasoned Quidditch enthusiast.

Her knowledge of flying might be as deep as her expertise in Transfiguration.

"I can tell that when it comes to spellwork, you appear bold but are actually quite meticulous. And when you fly, you're very steady, as if you're afraid of falling. That shows you have a solid foundation."

Dylan smirked.

He decided to take that as a compliment.

It was true—he could zip through the air at high speeds if he wanted to.

But he instinctively wanted to control every little movement, eliminating even the slightest chance of error.

This wasn't because he was afraid of falling; it was simply because he was thorough and cautious in everything he did!

"Thank you for the praise, Professor. However, there's so much magical knowledge to study every day, so I'm afraid I can't accept your offer."

Dylan shook his head.

Seeing that Professor McGonagall seemed about to persuade him further, he added, "Besides, I'm not really that interested in Quidditch."

That effectively shut down any further attempts to convince him.

"Very well. Everyone has their own interests, and that's something that can't be forced," Professor McGonagall said with a hint of regret.

Later that evening, Harry excitedly approached Dylan.

"Hey, Dylan, the Quidditch match is the day after tomorrow. You'll come to watch me, right?"

"Uh..." Dylan hesitated for a moment.

But seeing the eager look in Harry's eyes, which shone like two spotlights nearly blinding him, he rubbed his temples and nodded. "I'll be there."

"Yes!" Harry jumped with excitement.

When the day of the Quidditch match arrived, at eleven in the morning, nearly the entire Hogwarts faculty and student body had gathered.

The stands were packed, a sea of heads in gold, white, and black, looking like a field of mushrooms.

Dylan arrived just in time, having rushed over from the library.

When he reached the spot Ron had saved for him, he looked up and saw the banner Seamus and Ron were holding.

It was made from a dirty bedsheet, with bold letters scrawled in ink:

"POTTER RULES!!!"

Yes, complete with three exclamation marks.

Dylan stared at the grimy bedsheet swaying above his head, utterly stunned.

He scratched his cheek. "What is this?"

"Cheering him on!" Ron exclaimed excitedly.

Dylan turned to Hermione.

But Hermione was simply waving her wand, making the words on the banner change colors, becoming more vibrant and eye-catching.

Dylan's eyes widened even further. "You..."

"Harry's going to win!"

(End of Chapter)