Look at this nonsense writing...

"So what about you?" Hagrid turned back to Ron, "I hear the Quidditch tryouts for the Goalkeeper position are about to start. Fred and George mentioned it when they passed by yesterday. How do you feel? Confident?"

"Of course!" Ron wiped his mouth and said confidently.

After speaking, he suddenly lowered his head, nervously nudging Harry with his elbow.

"Harry, Harry?"

"What’s up?" Harry asked.

"That, that Felix Felicis?" Ron asked with a sly grin.

"Felix Felicis?" Harry looked at him, pulling out a small empty bottle from his pocket, "I already poured it into your bowl of milk earlier!"

Ron’s body shook with astonishment.

"No wonder!" Ron patted his chest, "No wonder since earlier, I’ve been feeling... I’ve been feeling so full of strength, that’s what it is!"

"Right?" Harry patted Ron’s shoulder, "Believe in yourself, brother. You already have the skills to be a Gryffindor goalkeeper, and with the Felix Felicis, I don’t think you’ll fail!"

"Absolutely!" Ron said excitedly.

In Hagrid’s cabin, they stayed until dinner time before reluctantly leaving.

Hermione had something to do and went back to the common room temporarily, while Ron sat next to Harry with Dean Thomas on the other side.

Dean seemed to be enthusiastically chatting with someone nearby, spitting while talking, looking quite amusing.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ron asked, reaching for a chicken drumstick.

"Oh, about the girls at Hogwarts." Dean turned his head, "I think if you’re choosing a girlfriend, you should choose a Hufflepuff girl—Hufflepuff girls are so nice, don’t you think?"

"Why do you say that?" Ron said, finishing off the drumstick in three bites.

"Look," Dean said, "Hufflepuff girls are cute and innocent, aren’t they worth liking?"

"Nonsense!" Seamus immediately retorted, "I think Ravenclaw girls are better, they’re gentle, intellectual, and understanding, perfect for a girlfriend!"

"Slytherin girls aren’t bad either," Harry interjected, "Don’t you guys think? Slytherin girls are dignified and elegant..."

Everyone looked at Harry as if he were talking rubbish.

Hell, who doesn’t know you have two Slytherin ex-girlfriends? Both incredibly good looking...

"But seriously," Seamus glanced at the Slytherin table and looked over at Daphne Greengrass, "you see, the Slytherin girls have all sorts of mysterious elements, and they’re showing some leg—then you look at the Gryffindor girls, all wrapped up in long robes."

"Don’t Gryffindor girls have any merits?" Neville asked, picking up a sandwich.

At that moment, the energetic Angelina passed by, giving George, who was handing her a Canary Cookie, a punch on the chest.

"They do," Ron said confidently, "see, Gryffindor girls hit hard..."

"Yes," Harry scratched his chin, "remember, Angelina is your captain, and you... my poor brother, if you drop a ball in the match, your captain will spin you like a top."

Ron imagined the scene, that pressure...

"I’m suddenly not so keen on joining the Quidditch team," he said, lowering his head, looking distressed.

"That won’t do," Harry and Seamus grabbed Ron by the arms, "you’ve already signed up..."

"Ha, I was just kidding," Ron said with a big smile, "I’m confident enough, it’s just a Quidditch match, watch me shine! Make Fred and George bow to me!"

"Don’t think you’ll just become the goalkeeper."

A brash voice came from behind them, and looking up, they saw a burly guy with wire-like hair.

His expression was so full of arrogance that it was infuriating—even more so than Draco in their first year on the train.

In simple terms, he was showing off.

"Who are you?" Ron frowned, asking.

"Remember my name, Cormac MacLagan!" McLagan pointed a finger pretentiously, "And you, Weasley, there’s no way you’ll be Gryffindor’s Quidditch team goalkeeper!"

"Why?" Ron squinted his eyes, asking.

"Because the Gryffindor goalkeeper will certainly be me!" McLagan said arrogantly, laughing as he turned and left.

"He’s so full of himself," Seamus said.

"Indeed, I’m a bit annoyed too," Dean said indignantly, "Who does he think he is? Coming over here and talking big?"

But Ron was unfazed.

After all, he knew he had taken the Felix Felicis, so he certainly wouldn’t lose to this show-off who came out of nowhere.

"Don’t worry," Ron patted his chest, saying, "Gryffindor’s goalkeeper can only be me, not this McLagan who appeared out of nowhere!"

"Good! Well done!" Dean and Neville clapped, saying, "Ron! You are the first in our year to join the Gryffindor team through normal selection! Let’s not lose face!"

"Yes, keep up the spirit!" Seamus encouraged seriously.

Ron felt a heroic spirit rising within him, with a desire to shout out "Tom" surging to his throat.

But he held back.

At that moment, the owls arrived, swooping down through the open windows, dropping some of their feathers.

After all, it was autumn, and it was time for birds to put on warm feathers, owls included.

Most people received more mail than usual, with parents eager for news from their children—after hearing stories of an incompetent professor named Umbridge being driven out by the fifth year students at Hogwarts.

Some students wrote lengthy letters to their parents about the incident, while others complained about their experiences in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and the grievances and suffering from being punished by Umbridge.

Harry also received letters, with Hedwig holding a thick stack of them in her claws.

He glanced briefly, seeing letters from Sirius, Vivi, Cassandra, and Pabi...

But with the goalkeeper selection coming up, Harry decided to read them when he returned that evening.

After dinner, Hermione also appeared in the Great Hall.

She didn’t sit at the long table to eat, but grabbed a sandwich haphazardly and followed her classmates out of the hall, intending to watch Gryffindor’s Quidditch tryouts.

Almost half of the Gryffindor students attended this tryout.

Of course, there were also students from other houses, like Ravenclaw’s Luna and Slytherin’s Draco.

Judging by Draco’s expression, he was clearly up to no good.

Luna was dressed in a costume, with her head inside a lion’s mouth, looking extremely adorable.

The weather was fairly normal today, a bit gloomy, but at least it wasn’t raining.

Angelina led the way at the front, followed by Fred and George, carrying the Quidditch balls.

"How many goals do you think we’ll score on poor Ronnie later?" Fred said with a grin.

"Don’t be silly, Fred," George rolled his eyes, "We’re Beaters, we don’t score goals—I’m saying, we’re Beaters!"

George emphasized the last word, "Beaters."

Fred immediately understood what George meant.

The two exchanged a glance, nodding and winking.

Yes, that’s the plan!