"For what purpose? Think about what day it is today?"
Facing Cassandra's questioning, Tom countered with a smile.
Cassandra thought for a moment, then said uncertainly, "Quidditch?"
"Bingo!" Tom snapped his fingers. "Slytherin versus Gryffindor. I was forced into being the Seeker for tomorrow's Quidditch match."
Cassandra was confused by Tom's thought process. "So, what does that have to do with you poisoning people?"
"Correcting you on one mistake, I didn't poison anyone." Tom patted Cassandra's head. "You brewed the Potion, and you administered the Potion. All of this was done by you, my dear Cassandra. What does it have to do with me, Tom?"
Cassandra felt a large pot fall from the sky, hitting her and making her dizzy. She wanted to refute, but couldn't utter a single word. After all, factually, she was indeed the one who did it. Once again, Cassandra felt she was completely played by Tom.
Imagining the miserable state of the Hogwarts teachers and students today, Cassandra couldn't help but shiver. If it were discovered that she was behind everything, she would surely die a terrible death.
As for the Dark Lord, Cassandra glanced at Tom beside her. She absolutely couldn't trust his integrity. At that point, let alone protecting her, it would be a miracle from Merlin if he didn't kick her while she was down.
Absolutely, absolutely, she couldn't die so inexplicably. Cassandra couldn't help but ask Tom the question again: "So, what exactly was this for? Just for Quidditch?"
Tom saw through Cassandra's thoughts and, for once, mercifully decided to let her die knowing the truth.
"I ask you, with my skill, can I compare to Harry?"
"No." Cassandra chose to speak the truth.
"Then can I improve to Harry's level in these two days?"
"No."
"Then that settles it. Since neither is possible, to win, there's only one method: bring everyone's skill level down to be similar to mine."
Cassandra was instantly stunned by Tom's thought process. This was too abstract: "So you're planning to create the biggest food poisoning incident since Hogwarts was founded?"
And Cassandra also thought of a flaw in Tom's plan: "But if you're the only healthy one on the field, won't that be too obvious?"
"Of course, I won't be the only healthy one, because I also plan to get sick myself."
This time, Cassandra was truly shocked: "Is it really worth it for one Quidditch match? You're too hard on yourself."
But Tom looked triumphant: "If Judy could pretend to be insane and eat pig slop back then, what is a little Tom doing this?"
"Who is Judy?" Cassandra couldn't help but ask another question.
"A great emperor in the history of a distant Eastern kingdom," Tom explained to Cassandra, his voice full of admiration.
Cassandra decided to research this... uh... probably empress, who the Dark Lord admired so much.
The Quidditch match arrived as scheduled.
Nearly all the students gathered there, and the entire stands were packed.
Cassandra was pulled by Pansy and her friends to sit in the Slytherin stands, her face full of guilt, without the slightest desire to watch the match. Thinking about the grand show that was about to unfold, her stomach was already churning with nausea.
At this moment, the players from both Slytherin and Gryffindor teams entered in a line. Holding a Firebolt 2001, Tom, mixed in with the Slytherin team, was even a little excited.
As the whistle blew, fourteen brooms shot into the sky.
The detoxifying and beautifying Potion, meticulously refined by Tom through countless versions and with carefully designed onset times, now took effect at the opportune moment.
The previously noisy stadium instantly fell silent. 99.9% of everyone in the stands clutched their stomachs in pain.
Rapid intestinal peristalsis, a mixture of gas and liquid, finally transformed into a chorus of "Gurgle!!!" sounds echoing throughout the stadium.
Immediately following were sounds of "Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"
A strange odor began to permeate the stadium. The audience, one hand clutching their stomachs, the other pinching their noses, pushed and shoved their way out, sprinting towards the restrooms at a hundred-meter dash speed.
Even more, for those who couldn't hold it in, they shamelessly found a corner and relieved themselves on the spot.
This scene was so beautiful that for a moment, one couldn't tell if they were in Great Britain or dreaming of India.
As for the Professors, they were slightly better off than the students, but since it was a special Potion that Tom had tested on countless lab mice, it wasn't much better. Didn't you notice Dumbledore and Grindelwald running away first? Snape and Professor McGonagall's expressions were even distorted, and their sprinting speed was no less than that of young people.
Cassandra, witnessing all of this, painfully closed her eyes. She truly was a sinful woman.
But now she couldn't care less about that. To avoid being beaten to death, she had deliberately gotten sick herself. Although she was better than others, the top priority was finding a restroom. Damn it, she'd draw a circle and curse the Dark Lord.
Returning to the match, the players on both teams were in no better condition than the spectators. The abdominal cramps made both teams' players wish they were dead, yet they couldn't just run away like the audience.
They could only "Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!" while flying unsteadily in the 'fragrant' field. As for the match, they couldn't care less, just let fate decide. Even Wood, who loved Quidditch the most, was almost at his limit; didn't you notice the smell was strongest around him?
Tom, who had cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself, slowed down the pain with his own magic while leisurely following Harry. After all, he wasn't good at finding the Golden Snitch, but someone else was very good at it. Being a mantis stalking a cicada was not shameful.
Watching Harry fly erratically, completely lacking the demeanor of a Quidditch prodigy, with even steam coming from where he touched the broom, Tom feigned concern: "Harry, are you alright?"
"No, Tom, my stomach hurts too much." Cold sweat was practically pouring from Harry's face.
"Me too. It must be that some Professor took kickbacks and used unhealthy ingredients." Tom slightly relaxed his control and let out a soft "Pfft!" as a response to Harry.
Just as Madam Hooch hesitated whether to cancel the match, Harry, as Tom expected, once again displayed his Quidditch chosen-one qualities, discovering the Golden Snitch not far from him.
Just as Harry was about to accelerate to catch the Golden Snitch, a brown, unidentifiable substance erupted from a certain part of him, causing Harry's movements to pause for a moment.
And Tom, who had relied on Harry to find the Golden Snitch, suddenly accelerated. No matter how unskilled he was, if food was brought to his mouth, he had to eat it.
And this 'fragrant' Quidditch match, an unprecedented event in Hogwarts history, finally concluded with Tom catching the Golden Snitch and Slytherin winning.
The players, finally able to land, couldn't care less about celebrating or bickering.
The top priority in life: find a toilet!!!