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

The library's encouragement did not stop the rain outside the window. On the contrary, the weather became even more violent.

In the blink of an eye, it was time for a Gryffindor Quidditch match.

"Visibility is less than ten meters, and the ground is muddy and slippery." Rowe stood on the stands, wrapped in a thick raincoat. "This kind of weather is perfect for orc ambush operations."

"Love, can you sit down?" Justin Finley shouted from beside him, trying to drown out the wind. "You're blocking my view of the game! Although I can't see anything clearly either..."

"Stay alert, soldier." Instead of sitting down, Rowe leaned over the railing. "I have a bad feeling. I have a feeling someone's got their sights on this side..."

Suddenly, Mrs. Hooch's whistle rang out. Fourteen flying brooms shot into the gray sky like arrows.

The game started.

Almost simultaneously, a red warning box popped up on Luo Wei's system interface.

[WARNING: High-risk projectile detected]

[Type: Enchantment Tracking Missile]

[Target identified: those who observe the precepts]

"There!" Rowe suddenly looked towards a corner of the sky.

Instead of flying around the field as usual, a black ball seemed to have eyes and flew straight for the back of Harry's head.

"Harry! Six o'clock! Dodge maneuver!" Rowe yelled at the top of his lungs, but his voice was instantly drowned out by the thunder.

Harry clearly sensed something was wrong. He dodged the fatal blow, the ball whizzing past his ear. Before he could even catch his breath, the ball abruptly stopped mid-air and then ricocheted back like a boomerang.

"This doesn't make sense in physics!" Hermione exclaimed from the stands. "The moving ball shouldn't move like that!"

"That's black magic enchantment!" Rowe shouted. "The Eye of Sauron is controlling it! A regular baseball bat won't stop it!"

For the next ten minutes, the entire audience witnessed a chase.

The crazed ball completely ignored everyone else, even Malfoy who was right next to it, and just kept its sights on Harry. George and Fred did everything they could to protect Harry, but the ball seemed relentless, its attacks growing more ferocious with each strike.

"Pause!" The whistle blew.

Just as Harry landed on the grass, a yellow and black figure rushed down from the stands.

"The supply troops have arrived!"

Lowe slid in. Ignoring the surprised looks of the others, he pulled an oversized cast-iron frying pan from under his robes and shoved it into George Weasley's hand.

"Use this!" Rowe roared. "Throw away that toothpick! What you need against siege weapons are shields!"

George stared blankly at the heavy frying pan in his hand: "Cool...but is this compliant with regulations?"

"This is war!" Rowe pointed angrily at the sky. "The enemy is using guided weapons! We need to get heavy armor!"

"Mr. Baggins!" Mrs. Hodge stormed over angrily. "What are you doing? Get off the field! And absolutely no...kitchen utensils...as bats!"

"That's a shield!" Rowe tried to argue, but was restrained by two Gryffindor members.

"Let him go, Rowe, don't worry," Harry said, panting. "I can handle it. I'm going to catch that thief no matter what."

Looking at Harry's determined eyes (the system displayed "[Ringholder's Willpower Judgment: Great Success]"), Rowe finally sighed.

"Alright, for Ciel's sake." Rowe put the frying pan away. "But if you die, I'll bury you on the sunniest hillside."

The game continues.

An even more frantic chase unfolded in the rain. Harry was like a petrel struggling in a storm, and the bouncing ball was Death's scythe.

Finally, during a breathtaking dive, Harry reached out his hand.

"Bang!"

The bouncing ball slammed into Harry's arm. But he didn't let go; his left hand gripped the Snitch tightly, and he plummeted to the ground like a kite with a broken string.

"Harry!"

Rowe rushed onto the field immediately. When he arrived, Harry was lying in the mud, pale-faced, with his right arm bent.

"Don't move! Don't move!" Rowe knelt beside Harry, quickly checking his injuries. "It's a comminuted fracture. We need a splint... Hermione! Get two splints!"

"Make way, make way!"

A figure in a bright blue robe squeezed in. It was Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Don't worry, I'll handle it." Lockhart confidently rolled up his sleeves. "It's just a minor injury. I've treated much more serious fractures in Vagadugu before, with just a simple spell..."

"No!" Harry cried out in terror, "Don't let him..."

"Lie down, Harry." Lockhart ignored him, raising his wand and twirling it over the severed arm. "Brackium Emendo!"

A pale purple light flashed.

The previously swollen and bent arm did not return to its original state; instead, it went limp, like a deflated rubber tube.

The entire room fell silent.

Colin Crevey even forgot to press the shutter button.

Rowe stared at the limp arm, his eyes widening. In his system's view, this scene was marked as an extremely terrifying black magic ritual.

[WARNING: Biological mutation detected]

[Judgment: Bone Dissolution Technique/Undead Conversion Ritual (Beginner)]

[Spellcaster's Intent: To strip the target of their ability to move and transform them into a slime]

"You..." Luo Wei's voice came.

"Ah, maybe I went a bit too far," Lockhart chuckled awkwardly. "But you see, it doesn't hurt anymore, right? The bone's gone, so the pain's gone..."

"You fallen wizard!"

Rowe jumped up, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Lockhart's nose.

"That was his arm! You destroyed it!" Rowe roared, his body radiating murderous intent. "You used a dark ritual on him! What did you want to turn him into? A slime?!"

"Love!" Hermione screamed as she rushed forward, clinging tightly to Love's waist. "Calm down! That was just a failed healing spell!"

"Failure? This is murder!" Rowe struggled desperately, trying to rush forward and punch Lockhart. "I will judge you on behalf of Gondor! You Saruman's lackey in human skin! You have deprived a warrior of the right to wield a sword!"

Lockhart was so frightened that he backed away, almost falling into a mud puddle: "This...this is a misunderstanding! This is very educational..."

"I'm going to turn you into fertilizer!"

The scene was chaotic for a time. On one side was Harry groaning in pain, on the other was Rowe going berserk, and then there were the professors trying to maintain order.

Finally, Mrs. Pomfrey arrived. When she saw the arm that looked like a rubber glove, she screamed even more furiously than Lowe.

"Are you going to cripple this child?!"