HP: The Dropout Who Saved the World

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As November arrived, the Quidditch season began.

Slytherin would face Gryffindor this Saturday.

Both houses were training intensively.

That day in the common room, the Slytherin team members, dressed in green uniforms and holding Nimbus 2000 brooms taller than themselves, stood in a neat row as their captain Marcus Flint delivered a motivational speech.

He tried various methods to ignite his team's enthusiasm, making use of every minute for Quidditch training.

"We have only ONE goal—"

"Either win the Quidditch Cup—or DIE—"

Then he walked to the right and clapped Draco heavily on the shoulder:

"Draco Malfoy!"

"Either catch the Snitch—or die on the field—"

Far from being intimidated by such threats, Draco was fired up by the sport, his adrenaline surging as he shouted with near-manic intensity:

"That damn Potter is no match for me!"

Marcus was clearly pleased with his attitude, raising both hands to applaud vigorously:

"Good! That's the spirit!"

"Don't forget, we're facing Gryffindor!"

"You're fighting for Slytherin's honor—"

"Lose to them and you'll be disgraced for eternity, your names carved on the pillar of shame until death!"

The team then discussed various tactics, including strategies to knock opposing players off their brooms.

The players' enthusiasm was somewhat overwhelming for Jane, who sat in a corner of the sofa.

Although she had become somewhat desensitized to the snakes' constant attention over the past days.

But the players' voices were particularly loud.

Theodore, sitting nearby, seemed to notice her irritation, his clear blue eyes turning to her:

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head to indicate she was fine.

But Theodore had something else he wanted to ask.

He hesitated slightly before leaning close to Jane's ear, his black hair almost touching her cheek as he whispered:

"You wouldn't... go cheer for Gryffindor, would you?"

Jane looked at him in horror, realizing Theodore must have seen her meeting with Harry that morning!

She couldn't help but recall the morning's events.

Just as she'd left the common room, she was grabbed and pulled along with great force.

By the time she'd realized what was happening, Harry had nearly dragged her to the Gryffindor common room!

The green-eyed lion was out of breath, clasping his hands in apology before declaring firmly:

"Snape—"

"On Halloween Eve, he tried to get past the three-headed dog!"

He had assumed Jane, as a guardian, would report this news to Dumbledore.

But Jane's reaction was strange. To her, it didn't matter who might swallow the Philosopher's Stone - it wasn't her concern.

These matters should be handled by the protagonist and his team, not something for a minor character like her to worry about.

So she remained aloof, responding casually:

"I see."

Harry was shocked by her composure.

But then he understood - as the three-headed dog's caretaker, her dog must have already told her about this.

And Jane, the dog-feeder appointed by the headmaster and Special Award recipient, must have already taken precautions!

Look at her calm, confident demeanor!

This was the bearing of a true expert!

Jane just saw the protagonist give her one deep look of admiration, respect, and worship before turning and running away.

Scratching her head, puzzled and confused.

Back to the present.

Theodore was still leaning close, waiting for her answer.

"Why would I cheer for them?" Jane countered, "I'm not even going to watch the Quidditch match."

Joking aside, it was a Saturday - how could she waste precious sleeping time on her weekend?

Before Theodore could respond, a sweaty blonde head suddenly thrust between them:

"You must come!"

Draco couldn't understand how anyone could be uninterested in Quidditch, his grey eyes glaring at Jane:

"You'd better watch carefully how I defeat that Potter!"

Seeing Jane's complete lack of reaction, he continued with threats and enticements:

"If you come, you can copy all my essays for the rest of the term."

This condition struck right at her heart, and an agreement was quickly reached.

...

On match day.

At nine in the morning, Jane emerged from the dormitory with half-opened eyes.

The common room was already empty, all the snakes having risen early to secure seats at the field.

She really couldn't understand others' enthusiasm for this sport.

She had ridden a broom in flying class, and honestly, sitting on a hard broomstick wasn't comfortable at all.

But her classmates seemed used to it.

Wouldn't this affect these children's growth and development?

She wondered oddly.

Putting on her special silver and green Slytherin scarf and donning her black and green house robes, she slowly meandered toward the Quidditch pitch.

The stands surrounding the field were already packed, with each house occupying a corner. The Gryffindor and Slytherin stands faced each other, the rivalry evident not just between the players on the field but also among the spectators.

Jane easily found the Slytherin stands, which had become a sea of silver and green. At the front railings hung a large green banner, enchanted by some older students to make its serpentine design and "Slytherin for the Win" text writhe and move, creating an effect both impressive and dignified.

She climbed the steps one by one, surveying the empty seats before slowly making her way to the back row. The view wasn't great there, and interaction with victorious players would be impossible, so only a few students sat there.

Theodore was one of them.

Although his friend and childhood companion Draco would soon be racing across the field, and he should have been there cheering, he had no interest in the noisy, crowded atmosphere. So he'd come to the back row, bringing a Potions textbook with him.

Seeing Jane approach, though his expression remained neutral, one could sense his mood improving.

He nodded to her and took the parchment, quill, and ink from her hands - she'd decided to complete her Potions homework during the match.

"I need to make sure of something," Theodore spoke slowly, his eyes suspicious, "you won't be shouting 'Go Potter' or anything like that here, will you?"

Jane shot him an exasperated look, her morning grumpiness making her want to destroy the whole world.

Getting the answer he wanted, Theodore contentedly lowered his head to his book.

But soon both realized that trying to do homework or read here was an extremely poor decision.

Because as the teams entered the field, the stands erupted with thunderous cheers.

Slytherin and Gryffindor students tried to outdo each other, with shouts of "Slytherin for the Win" and "Go Slytherin" ringing out, while Gryffindor responded with "We've got Potter," "Potter for the Win," and "Gryffindor Invincible," each side determined to drown out the other.

When neither side could overpower the other, the chants began to change, turning toward personal attacks.

Just as an all-out brawl seemed imminent, Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle hard.

Fifteen players rose into the air, and the game began.

Jane didn't really understand the rules of the game; she could only tell whether the ball went through the goal or not.

She saw Flint grab the Quaffle in a savage manner, soaring like an eagle to score successfully. Then Pucey dove for the goal posts, grabbing the Quaffle - but he was hit by a Bludger and nearly crashed. A Gryffindor female player seized the opportunity to charge at the Slytherin goal, and keeper Bletchley couldn't defend, losing 10 points.

"Flint! Ram him! Ahhhhh—"

"Block it, on the right! Get back on defense—"

"Formation! Keep formation! Don't let those stupid lions break us up!"

The Slytherin students' cheers of celebration and groans of frustration alternated, making Jane feel like her eardrums might burst.

"Go Draco!!!!"

That was Pansy's shriek. She had completely abandoned her usual self-styled elegant lady demeanor.

Hearing the familiar name, Jane looked toward the field.

She saw that Draco and Harry had both spotted the Golden Snitch, flying side by side, gradually accelerating as they desperately fought for it in the air.

She could already guess the outcome - after a series of difficult obstacles, protagonist Harry would catch the Snitch, and Gryffindor would win the Quidditch championship.

After all, that's the power of protagonist's halo.

Knowing the result, she lost much interest in the process, so she picked up her parchment and writing materials from the seat, said goodbye to Theodore, and prepared to return to the dormitory for sleep.

She walked down the steps and into the passageway beside the teachers' stands.

Just as she was about to turn a corner, someone suddenly rushed out and collided heavily with her!

"Ouch!"

They both tumbled to the ground in a heap.