Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

"It seems our little wizard has just gotten a new broomstick and is finding it hard to contain his excitement and curiosity. After all, he's still a child—it's understandable, isn't it? Haha!"

The commentator chuckled nervously, attempting to smooth over the situation with a light-hearted remark.

At that moment, Wentworth spotted another Golden Snitch and dashed after it without hesitation.

Seeing this, the commentator thought he had guessed the reason and quickly announced, "It seems our young wizard has spotted another Golden Snitch! Perhaps the first one had some issues, so he's trying to catch another one. What a responsible wizard!"

Under the commentator's animated narration, Wentworth, now familiar with the motions, soon captured another Golden Snitch.

Just as the commentator was preparing to welcome Wentworth back to the center of the pitch, Wentworth pocketed the Snitch and, with a burst of speed, set off toward a third.

The crowd of tens of thousands of wizards erupted. Some cheered him on, while others voiced their doubts. Though Wentworth couldn't hear the din from the ground, the commentator was now visibly sweating, unsure of how to proceed.

From the stands, Cornelius Fudge leaned toward Albus Dumbledore, cautiously preparing to speak. However, before he could say a word, Dumbledore interjected as though reading his mind.

"Let's wait and see. Wentworth must have his reasons for this."

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Fudge awkwardly retreated. After all, as the British Minister for Magic, it wouldn't do to publicly call down a Hogwarts student in such a setting.

And besides, it didn't seem worth risking Dumbledore's ire over something so trivial.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Wentworth went on to capture nearly ten Golden Snitches before finally descending slowly back to the commentator's side.

The commentator hurried over, looking rather exasperated. But before he could speak, Wentworth beat him to it, saying, "I'm a bit tired now. Otherwise, I could've caught a few more!"

The commentator, nearly fainting on the spot, took a moment to steady his breath before responding, "I think I might not have made myself clear. You only need to catch one Golden Snitch—not all of them!"

This was the excuse the commentator hastily came up with after much deliberation. Though it was his first encounter with Wentworth, he didn't want to see a fellow Hogwarts alumnus face criticism.

Unfortunately, Wentworth didn't take the hint and instead replied matter-of-factly, "Oh, I know. I just wanted to catch a few extra Snitches to take back with me!"

The audience burst into laughter. Luckily, Wentworth's youth worked in his favor—everyone chalked it up to childish mischief. Had he been an adult wizard, the reaction might have been far less forgiving.

Relieved by the light-hearted atmosphere, the commentator couldn't help but let out a long sigh and quipped, "What a bold young wizard! You must be from Gryffindor!"

"No, I'm from Hufflepuff!"

This piqued the commentator's curiosity, and he asked, "What are you planning to do with so many Golden Snitches?"

Without hesitation, Wentworth replied, "Today, I was lucky enough to attend the Quidditch World Cup finals with Headmaster Dumbledore. But since the school term has started, my classmates and close friends couldn't come. I wanted to bring back a few Golden Snitches as souvenirs for them."

The moment Wentworth finished speaking, the stadium fell silent. Many wizards seemed moved, a touch of nostalgia or a smile of reminiscence crossing their faces. Even the commentator stood speechless for a moment.

Clap, clap, clap!

The first to react was Dumbledore, who unhesitatingly began applauding his student. Soon, Fudge and others joined in, Fudge even beaming with pride and telling those around him, "Look, this is the kind of student produced by our British wizarding school!"

Gradually, the applause spread throughout the stadium, everyone clapping not just for Wentworth's sincere words but perhaps for the memory of their own youthful friendships.

Even the players of the Canadian and Scottish Quidditch teams, who had been resting in preparation for the match, peeked out of their locker rooms, curious about the commotion.

Amid the thunderous applause, a fair-skinned, golden-haired boy in the stands gazed enviously at Wentworth on the pitch and murmured, "I wish I had friends like that..."

Suddenly, a sharp voice called out, "Draco! Fix your robes! Come on, show some spirit! What kind of expression is that?"

The speaker was none other than Lucius Malfoy, who had been accompanying Dumbledore and Fudge. The golden-haired boy, of course, was Draco Malfoy.

Seeing her husband's urgency, Narcissa Malfoy approached, gently placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "What's going on, Lucius?" she asked softly.

Lucius's stern demeanor softened slightly as he glanced around and replied, "I'm about to discuss some matters with Fudge and Dumbledore. I told them I couldn't leave you two unattended, so I've arranged for you to join us. This is an excellent opportunity for Draco to make an impression on Dumbledore before he starts at Hogwarts next year."

He had barely finished speaking before Narcissa interrupted, "Alright, I understand! Come here, Draco, let me fix your robes."

As Narcissa knelt to adjust Draco's attire, Lucius urged impatiently, "Hurry up!"

Meanwhile, Wentworth, accompanied by staff members, was making his way toward the stands. At the edge of the pitch, the Canadian and Scottish teams were also readying to take the field.

With a mixture of excitement and tension, Lucius led his slightly bewildered son and his meticulously groomed wife toward Dumbledore.

-----------------------

SUPPORT ME ON PATREON!!!

Join here for advance chapters: PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON

There are more than 40 advance chapters available for you!