The person is at Hogwarts, but the system is in Middle-earth!

The November wind swept across the Quidditch pitch. For the students of Hogwarts, today was a momentous day: Gryffindor versus Slytherin!

Lowe huddled in a corner of the Hufflepuff stands, a thick scarf around his neck, holding a homemade binocular device—a "tactical telescope" made from two toilet paper rolls, a few lenses, and a lot of duct tape. The outside of the binoculars was even decorated with some mysterious runes.

[System notification: The current area has been locked as a [high-altitude combat zone]. Enemy air units have been detected gathering.]

"Wind speed north-northwest, force 5," Lowe muttered under his breath, adjusting the focus of his binoculars. "This isn't a sporting event, it's practically a Ringwraith air raid drill."

In the field of vision, fourteen players ascended into the air on broomsticks. Under the system's filter, the flying broomsticks transformed into howling nightmare beasts with black wings. Harry's Nimbus 2000, in particular, radiated a silver light and was labeled by the system as:

[Target confirmed: Shadow Swift - Flight Form.]

[Status: King of horses, running like the wind.]

"If that's Shadow Strike, then Harry is Gandalf? No, Dumbledore should be the headmaster, they look exactly alike!" Rowe watched Harry's thin figure weave through the air, feeling slightly nervous. "I hope he doesn't end up like Gandalf, always wanting to take on Balrog one-on-one."

The match was intense. Lee Jordan's commentary rose and fell in the wind, but Lowe paid no attention. His attention was fixed on the Slytherin stands, or more precisely, on the teachers' section.

Suddenly, something unexpected happened.

Harry's broomstick began to shake violently, like a startled wild horse trying to throw its rider off. A gasp rippled through the crowd.

"What happened?" Susan Bornes gripped the railing tightly. "Harry's broom has gone out of control!"

A blood-red warning box popped up on Lowe's retina instantly.

[WARNING! High-intensity mental attack detected!]

[Source located at coordinates (34, 12, 8) – Teachers' Stand.]

Analysis: Saruman (Rank: ???) is casting [Falling Curse].

Rowe abruptly spun his binoculars, his gaze sweeping across Snape in the teachers' table. Snape was staring intently at Harry, his lips moving rapidly as he muttered something.

Lowe abruptly spun his binoculars, his gaze locking onto the teachers' table. There, Severus Snape was staring intently at Harry, his lips moving rapidly as he muttered something.

"I knew the system would flag Snape," Rowe thought to himself, rolling his eyes. "I've read the books over ten times, and some of the movies I've only seen once. I'm not going to be fooled by that filter!"

His gaze shifted slightly, past the Potions professor who looked like a giant bat, and landed on the corner of the second row behind him.

Professor Quirrell was sitting there. He was wrapped in a thick purple scarf, his body trembling slightly. Rowe could see it clearly through his binoculars—Quirock's eyes were fixed on Harry in the air, and his lips were moving rapidly.

[Target Analysis: Grimaldi's Clever Words.]

[Identity: Servant/Puppet]

[Status: Currently performing some kind of dark ritual to assist its master.]

Just then, a brown head came into his view. Hermione Granger crouched low and crept toward the teachers' table.

"Miss Granger has gone and given us another assist," Rowe sighed. "While in the original story she did accidentally knock Quirrell down and interrupt the spell when she went to burn Snape's robes, the probability of that 'accident' is too low. What if Snape was wearing a fire-retardant robe today? Or what if Hermione was discovered before she even got there?"

As a steadfast member of the Fellowship of the Ring, Lowe never relied on luck.

"Let me add some precision to this play."

He pulled a heavy stone out of his pocket.

This is a "pebble" that he carefully selected by the Black Lake. After three days of polishing, its surface is smooth and round, and it weighs about 300 grams. Loewe believes that this is the best throwing weight to match his strength.

[Skill Activation: Throwing Mastery (Hobbit Racial Trait)]

[Current Fixes: Wind speed compensation -15%, Gravity drop +5%, Target stationary.]

Rowe didn't aim for Quirrell's head. Voldemort was hiding under that large scarf; a direct headshot might trigger some powerful dark magic defense mechanism, or even force the noseless Dark Lord out prematurely.

His crosshairs were locked onto the left front leg of the wooden chair beneath Quirrell's buttocks.

"For Ciel's sake. And also so that Hermione doesn't get points deducted."

Luo Wei took a deep breath, tensed his arm muscles, and used his waist to throw the stone in his hand like a cannonball.

The stone traced an almost invisible gray line through the air.

Meanwhile, below the teachers' seats.

Hermione was crawling with difficulty through the cracks in the wooden planks, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. She was close to Snape's position, silently chanting the spell "Burning Flame."

Just as she raised her wand, preparing to aim it at the hem of Snape's cloak.

Click!

A sound of wood breaking suddenly rang out, followed by a terrified scream.

"what!"

Professor Quirrell's chair leg suddenly snapped, causing him to lose his balance and fall violently to the right. The fall was so sudden that he instinctively flailed his arms, trying to grab onto something.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), he grabbed Snape's hair.

"Damn it!"

Snape let out a muffled groan, pulled sharply backward by Quirrell. The two of them crashed heavily to the ground like a tangled clump of black seaweed.

Hermione was startled by the sudden loud thud and the sound of someone falling over her head. She abruptly stopped herself from saying "Flame Bear..." only managing a small, awkward flame flickering at the tip of her wand. She was terrified to see Snape's gloomy face suddenly appear less than half a meter away (though she'd been pulled down), and quickly shrank back into the shadows, fleeing as fast as she could!

In the sky, Harry's broom instantly returned to stillness. Quirrell's vision was interrupted, and the curse was naturally lifted.

[System Results: Enemy spellcasting interrupted.]

[Evaluation: A perfect "decapitation" operation (physical). You defeated the enemy lieutenant and threw the commander (Saruman) into chaos.]

[Reward: Accuracy +2.]

"Done." Lowe whistled from below the stands, quickly disassembled the binoculars into parts, stuffed them back into his backpack, and said, "What's this called? This is called long-range support infantry."

Harry seized his chance. He lunged forward, landing on his broom and reaching out. The next second, he tumbled off the broom, lay on the ground, gagged, and vomited up the Golden Snitch.

"Harry Potter has caught the thief! Gryffindor wins!"

A thunderous cheer erupted from the stands.

Chaos erupted at the teachers' table. Snape scrambled to his feet, clutching his aching scalp, and shoved Quirrell away menacingly.

Hermione ran back to Ron, panting, her face showing confusion and lingering fear.

"Did you do it, Hermione?" Ron asked excitedly. "I saw Snape fall!"

"I...I don't know." Hermione looked at her wand blankly. "They started fighting before I even had a chance to cast the spell? Maybe Professor Quirrell fainted?"

Hearing this from a distance, Luo Wei couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth into a smile.

"Hiding your merits and fame." He silently gave himself a thumbs up in his heart. "This is the legendary 'aura kill,' Hermione. Before you even made a move, the enemy had already fallen."

In the system's records, a line of text is shining brightly:

[Achievement Completed: Double Kill. Only one stone was used!]