I've Worked for the Academy, I Want to See Professor Dumbledore!

Despite his anger, Quirrell was a man of integrity. When he realised that he had lost his composure, he quickly composed himself and tried to find an excuse.

"I'm sorry… I'm too tired right now, so I thought I'd take a nap…" With that, Quirrell pulled up his hood to cover his head, then leaned forward and closed his eyes.

"All right." Ivan shut his mouth decisively and stopped trying to provoke Quirrell. He had achieved his goal.

He dared to tease Quirrell because he knew that Quirrell would not attack him over such a minor argument. In the original novel, the Weasleys hit Quirrell on the back of the head with a snowball, where Voldemort's snake face was located.

Quirrell's lack of reaction to such a blunt slap to Voldemort's face suggested that the possession of the Philosopher's Stone came first in their minds.

As for settling accounts later?

Save it. Quirrell would be long gone by then, and a fleeing Lord Voldemort would not care about a minor player like him.

Seeing that Quirrell was really going to close his eyes and go to sleep, Ivan turned his attention to the match. The game had reached its climax, and the two sides were engaged in small games.

A Slytherin Chaser threw the Quaffle at George, who barely managed to dodge it.

"Slytherin, this is a foul… this is a foul!" Jordan Lee, who was in charge of the commentary, was a Gryffindor veteran. He shouted at Slytherin for breaking the rules, his words sharp enough to make Professor McGonagall frown.

George, not to be outdone, joined forces with Fred to attack the Slytherin Beater from both sides, nearly sending him crashing into the railings…

Jordan, however, pretended not to notice the Weasleys' actions, occasionally praising their flying skills.

This double standard naturally incurred the displeasure of the Slytherin wizards, especially those who took part in the bet. If not for the professors watching, the screen would have been filled with dark magic.

Even so, there were still a few Slytherin students who threw their belongings at Jordan.

"It's not fair for the commentator to interfere!"

"It's shady… it's shady!"

"We ask for a different commentator, or we'll do it again!"

…

Jordan dodged cans, scraps of paper, and undergarments as he continued his commentary. When Professor McGonagall couldn't stand it any longer, she asked the two students to pull Jordan away and replace him with Cedric from Hufflepuff.

Jordan clung to the railing for dear life, but in the end, he was no match for their combined strength and was dragged along the platform.

"I have gone too far for the House… I have done the House… I am innocent! I want to see Professor Dumbledore!"

Professor McGonagall raised her hand and cast a silent spell. The world finally fell silent…

Yvonne, who was a short distance away, looked at Jordan, who seemed to be possessed by a drama queen, and her lips twitched, but she wasn't worried about him.

Unbeknownst to Jordan, they had been secretly involved in the gambling scheme, forcing their way into Slytherin's territory.

This interlude did not require much effort on Ivan's part, as the outcome of the match would depend on whether Harry caught the Golden Snitch.

Harry was also very good at his job. Almost as soon as he spotted the Golden Snitch, he took the lead and flew towards it, shaking off the two Slytherin pilots who were trying to stop him and reaching out to catch it.

Suddenly, the broomstick beneath Harry began to shake violently, as if it were trying to throw him out of the air, and he had to grab it with all his might to keep from falling.

The sudden turn of events caused an uproar, and the Weasleys wondered if one of the Slytherin students had deliberately placed a curse on the match in order to avoid losing the bet.

They both looked eagerly at Ivan, who was supposed to handle everything that went on outside the arena.

Ivan was also a little stunned at this time. He quickly turned to look at Quirrell, who was curled up in the corner and did not move at all, as if he had fallen asleep. However, Ivan, who had sharp eyes, could vaguely see that Quirrell's mouth seemed to be opening and closing under his hood.

Unspeakable… Casting without a staff…

Ivan's expression hardened. He hadn't expected Quirrell to try to pull a fast one on him, using such high-end techniques.

Quirrell's abilities were not as simple as they appear in the book, and he was more than capable of being a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, although it was possible that he did not use the Dark Lord's powers.

After raising Quirrell's status in her mind, Ivan was troubled as to how to "wake" the "sleeping" Quirrell.

Wasn't it just a competition of acting skills? Who was afraid of who?

Yvonne gritted her teeth and put on an anxious face. She put her hands on Quirrell's thighs and shook him violently.

"Professor Quirrell, look, something's wrong with Harry's broomstick. It's falling out of the sky. Do something to save him!"

As Ivan shook him violently, Quirrell's hood fell off, revealing a stunned face and a gaping mouth.

"Professor, I'm so sorry you didn't see it. It was such a close call!" Ivan exclaimed, pulling his hands away from Quirrell's legs as Harry regained control of his broom.

…

In the stands, there were many other people who were as concerned about Harry as Ivan was, including Malfoy, who was so excited that he stood up from his seat, anticipating when Harry would fall from the sky.

In that case, damn Yvonne would have to hand over all her savings and live the rest of the term on borrowed time.

This was the only way Malfoy could think of to get back at him when he thought he was outmatched…

Not to mention the fact that he had heard that Ivan had set up a bet to earn Galleons, and was probably in debt… As Malfoy grew more and more excited at the prospect, Harry's broom suddenly steadied again.

Malfoy sat back down, disappointed.

"Draco, look, Potter is really falling!" Goyle shouted, pointing up as Harry was knocked off his feet by a Slytherin Seeker.

Malfoy rose from his seat in a moment of excitement, reliving his earlier thoughts.

It was not until Harry managed to spit a golden ball out of his mouth and hold it aloft that Malfoy sat back down.

Because it was the Snitch…