I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 40 Why are you so skilled at this?

Louis looked down at Catherine and saw her awkwardness and anger, and smelled a strong lemon scent. [At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name.]

He really wanted to confess his feelings to Catherine in public, but a fleeting task on the system panel interrupted his thoughts.

Mission: Let Catherine Worley confess her love to you first.

Description: As a chosen one of heaven, how could you possibly confess your feelings? Maintain your pride as the chosen one of this world and a transmigrator; perhaps one day in the future, a meteorite will help you achieve victory.

Reward: Crown "Griffin's Eye", Lightning-type skill tree.

Failure penalty: None

Actually, he didn't want to do this task, but... the rewards were just too good.

Who wouldn't want to be a handsome and cool electrician?

Most importantly, this task is full of challenges. Just thinking about the aloof senior confessing her feelings to him shyly makes Louis feel like he's being scratched by a cat.

He gave Catherine, who was glaring at him, a sly smile, waved his hand to cancel the loud spell effect, and sat back down.

"Just kidding, Wore, why are you in such a hurry?"

Catherine's breath hitched.

"To be honest, I don't have any particular feelings for Miss Granger." Louis's expression turned serious this time. "You may not know this, but I don't like young girls."

Diana: Oh yes, yes, that's so true.

"So what kind do you like?" Catherine asked coldly, but she felt relieved, wondering if she should give him a few curses later, like having his front teeth like big sticks, or being roasted hot.

At this point, she was no longer thinking about the Fiery Blaze and the Soul-Stealing Curse, and was probably not as angry as before.

"Me? I like women three years older than me." Louis leaned to the side, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand as he looked at Catherine. "She should ideally have long blonde hair, a pretty face, and a tall figure. Hmm, long legs would be even better."

Yes, Catherine, who is 1.72 meters tall, does have very long legs.

Catherine suddenly blushed, rolled her eyes at Louis, and turned away without saying another word.

But in my heart, the world suddenly felt vast and boundless.

But then she remembered how Louis had teased her earlier, and couldn't help but stretch out her long leg and stomp hard on his foot.

Louis suffered in silence, taking it as atonement for his earlier outrageous behavior. It was only because she was his senior that he was treated this way; anyone else might have already turned against him.

"Well... I just don't know if that blonde lady will actually like me." Louis smiled mischievously. "What do you think, Catherine—may I call you that?"

"Your mouth is on your face, how can I control it?" Catherine said coldly, but the blush on her pretty face betrayed her thoughts.

"Hey, then help me guess, does that girl have feelings for me?" Louis continued to tease Catherine without batting an eye, a complete scumbag.

Why are you so skilled at this? How many times have you flirted with other people?

The senior student thought bitterly to herself as she crunched the candy in her mouth.

"If you don't answer, I'll take that as a yes."

"roll."

Louis glanced at his rosy-cheeked senior, then at the mountains outside the window ablaze with autumn colors, and sighed to himself, "It's almost time for the White Album season again—"

He thought to himself that he must give Catherine a surprise after the competition.

At the very edge of his field of vision, Snape, limping, walked toward Harry.

"Good luck today, Potter." Snape forced a smile under Harry's puzzled gaze. "Since you have the courage to face trolls, a little Quidditch match is naturally no problem—even if the opponent is... Slytherin."

He regretted it as soon as he said it.

He had genuinely come to check on Potter, and was quite pleased to see those eyes. However, when he thought about how this kid was Gryffindor's Seeker and had Potter's "disgusting face," his words turned sarcastic.

What's even more infuriating are these three little bastards in front of me: one is a genius Muggle witch, one has red hair, and the other has green eyes. Isn't this just a disassembled version of Lily?

This is really giving Coach Stamford a headache.

He waved his cloak, creating a gust of wind, and disappeared from the three children's sight like an old bat.

"I know why!" Harry said to the two of them in a low voice, looking at Snape's limping figure.

Needless to say, Snape is going to be the scapegoat again.

Why do you always wear a black cloak for no reason...?

Two little heads huddled around Harry, who whispered, "Did you see Professor Snape's leg? He's limping. I saw the scar on his leg in the lavatory earlier... I think he must have been trying to get past that three-headed dog. I bet my flying broomstick that he let that troll in to distract everyone."

Hermione's beaver eyes widened as she retorted, "No, how could that be? I know he might have a problem with Gryffindor, but he would never betray Dumbledore—"

In a sense, Snape had never betrayed Dumbledore since he began teaching.

"Hermione, you always think too highly of the teachers." Ron shrugged. "The question is, what's his goal? And what's that big dog guarding?"

"Don't think about it yet." Hermione forked a piece of bread. "Have some toast. You have an hour before your performance, so you need to eat something to fill your stomach, or you'll suffer later."

"But I'm really not hungry." Harry's mind was full of Snape. Emotionally, he didn't quite believe that Professor Snape, who had been so fond of him, would do anything to harm Professor Dumbledore. But his intelligence told him that Snape was definitely up to something.

"Putt, Putt!" Malfoy's voice rang out from behind him, pulling him back to reality.

He turned to look at Malfoy: "What's wrong, Malfoy?"

"The Seeker is a player to be closely guarded against, Pott," Draco said casually. "I don't want you to be defeated by Slytherin because you're too hungry and weak; it would make me feel ashamed."

"Thank you, Malfoy."

Harry regretted it as soon as he said it.

How could that little bastard Malfoy possibly have anything good to say about him?

Then Malfoy, forking a sausage, grinned and suggested to him, "How about I treat you to a sausage and two fried eggs, Peter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry rolled his eyes. If he didn't have to go to the Quidditch match later, he would definitely have taught Malfoy a lesson.

Draco, overjoyed, planned to tell Louis the joke when Catherine wasn't around.

Of course, if Catherine were here, he wouldn't dare do it even if he had twenty lives.

(End of this chapter)

Please remember our domain name. If you like this site, please share it on Facebook.