Fred and George did not win their bet this time.
Cedric Diggory, true to his diligent nature, secured first place in the third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, successfully claiming the eerie wooden charm casually crafted by Dracula. The second-year first place was awarded to a Ravenclaw girl named Cho Chang.
However, to their utter dismay, Hermione Granger, a first-year, despite achieving top marks in every other subject, did not win first place in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they had confidently predicted. The first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts first place went to Harry Potter.
"Harry, would you say we're good to you?" On the evening the results were announced, Fred and George each draped an arm around Harry's shoulders, their faces unnaturally serious.
"Yeah... yeah, you're good to me," Harry said, a little bewildered, unsure of where this was going. "Both in the Gryffindor common room and on the Quidditch pitch, you both take good care of me. Is... is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong," George said, his voice laced with mock heartbreak. "But you've caused us serious financial harm!"
"I... what did I do?" The kind-hearted Harry immediately felt a pang of guilt, wondering what unintended mischief he had caused.
"Harry, how could you steal Hermione's first place in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Fred said, patting Harry's shoulder with an exaggerated sigh of despair.
"Huh?" Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he subconsciously glanced at his bag, convinced his secret use of the diary for homework had been exposed.
However, what George said next made him lose all desire to communicate with them further. "We bet those rich Slytherin idiots that Hermione would get Professor Dracula's charm. Do you know what those self-proclaimed pure-bloods are like? They didn't believe it at all, insisting that a Muggle-born wizard couldn't get first place, so they bet us a whole ten Galleons."
George gestured dramatically with both hands, pretending to wipe away tears as he wailed exaggeratedly. "That was a sure thing! And then you got the charm... That's ten Galleons, Harry! That's how much our dad makes in a week!"
Listening to George's complaints, a flash of something uncharacteristic flickered in Harry's eyes.
"Fred, George, I think you really need to quit gambling!" he suddenly shouted, his voice sharp. "You know that ten Galleons is Mr. Weasley's weekly wage. Have you ever thought about what happens if you lose even more in the future?"
"Those Slytherin guys can afford to lose! At most, they'll get a scolding when they go back home. But what about you? If you lose to the point where you can't afford it, it could affect your younger siblings, and the entire Weasley family's livelihood!"
Fred and George stared at the emotional Harry, both somewhat bewildered.
"We know we're wrong, Harry," George said weakly. "Why are you yelling so loud? You almost scared us to death."
Harry then realized he had lost his composure. He quickly straightened his crooked glasses, muttered "Sorry," and hurriedly grabbed his bag, bidding a hasty farewell to the twins.
The twins exchanged glances, identical question marks appearing in their expressions.
"Was that really Harry just now?" Fred asked George. "He wouldn't usually yell like that, would he?"
"Not sure. Maybe he's a little different now that he got first place in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" George shrugged noncommittally.
The final Quidditch match was held three days after the end of the final exams. This match, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, would determine whether Gryffindor could win the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup. It was a crucial match.
Currently, Slytherin House held a commanding lead with 442 points, thanks to Snape's "tireless efforts." Ravenclaw followed closely behind with 426 points, and Gryffindor ranked third with 412 points. Although Gryffindor was only in third place, their score difference with Slytherin was not insurmountable. As long as the Gryffindor team could win the Quidditch Cup, they would receive a substantial bonus of fifty points, thereby surpassing Slytherin and winning the House Cup.
Moreover, the Gryffindor team had a good chance of winning. Thanks to Harry's outstanding performance, they had already defeated the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams in succession, creating a significant score gap with Slytherin, who was in second place. Therefore, as long as they could defeat Ravenclaw, or even if they were not too far behind, they could win the final Quidditch trophy.
In this crucial match, Harry, who had recently defeated Quirrell and driven away Voldemort, was in excellent form. He successfully caught the Golden Snitch in less than an hour, securing victory for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
With the fifty points from the Quidditch Cup, Gryffindor's House score reached 462 points, surpassing Slytherin and Ravenclaw and ranking first. As soon as the match ended, the Gryffindor lions couldn't wait to lift Harry up and toss him high into the sky in celebration.
In the evening, the Gryffindor common room was decorated with lanterns and streamers, and they had already started celebrating in advance. They enthusiastically celebrated Gryffindor's success in ending Slytherin's six-year winning streak of the House Cup and reclaiming the honor.
However, they forgot that there were still three days before the official start of the end-of-year banquet.
Snape, whether driven by a genuine desire for Slytherin to hold onto the House Cup, or a wish for Harry to revert his budding gratitude into hatred, or perhaps both, acted like a madman. In the remaining three days, he deducted points from Gryffindor day and night, deducting five or ten points for the slightest infraction. Soon, Gryffindor's score was almost equal to Slytherin's.
So, on the afternoon of the last day of the first year, Harry went to Snape's Potions Professor's office and argued fiercely with him.
"Professor Snape, why are you doing this?" Harry asked, his voice strained. "You could clearly be a good person, why do you insist on making me hate you?"
On the one hand, Snape's usual behavior was indeed very unpleasant, especially for the Gryffindor lions, who generally harbored a deep hatred for him. Harry used to feel the same way. On the other hand, Snape had twice intervened to save his life, so Harry couldn't bring himself to truly hate him now.
Snape nonchalantly organized his potion ingredients, as if he hadn't heard Harry's question. However, if you looked closely, you could see that his expression was stiff, and the movements of his hands were unconsciously breaking off one herb after another.
"You're thinking too much, Potter," he said slowly after a long silence. "Isn't it normal for me to want my House to win the House Cup? Or do you think I should help Gryffindor win the trophy instead, so that I can be considered a so-called 'good person'?"
"Don't be so self-righteous, Potter, don't think the whole world revolves around you!" Snape threw the last two herbs into the jar in front of him, each word delivered with deliberate venom.
Faced with Snape's mockery, Harry's face flushed red. A red light seemed to flash in his eyes, and his emotions suddenly became agitated.
"Don't you just want me to hate you? Come on, deduct my points!" he shouted, losing control. "I'm telling you, I was blind to be grateful to you back then!"
Snape's movements stopped. He coldly curled the corners of his mouth. "As expected, the Potters have always been so foolish, arrogant, and self-righteous," he said coldly. "Then, as you wish..."
"Talking back to a professor, Gryffindor loses fifty points!"
That night, Harry left the Potions Professor's office alone, distraught. He climbed the spiral staircase leading to the entrance courtyard and came to the Great Hall to attend the end-of-year banquet.
When he arrived, the hall was already full of people. The hall was decorated with green and silver, representing Slytherin, to celebrate their seven consecutive years of winning the House Cup. Behind the head table, on the wall, hung a huge banner depicting a snake.
Harry had barely stepped inside when Ron and Hermione pulled him over to the Gryffindor table.
"Harry, did you know? Gryffindor just had fifty points deducted!" Ron said, filled with indignation. "At this rate, we won't be able to catch up to Slytherin even if we win another Quidditch Cup."
"Yeah, I don't know who gave Snape such a great opportunity," Hermione said resentfully, slamming her book on the table, no longer in the mood to read.
Harry paused, his mood instantly plummeting. "Don't mention it," he said softly. "I'm the one who did it." Ron and Hermione quieted down, looking at Harry in astonishment.
"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked. "Weren't you and Snape reconciled?"
"I don't think we'll ever be reconciled," Harry said sadly. He didn't know why he'd been so easily agitated lately. "About the points deducted from Gryffindor, I wanted to talk to him about it... but I couldn't control my emotions, and we ended up arguing..."
Hermione wanted to ask more, but just then, Dumbledore walked into the Great Hall. He walked out from the side of the professors' table with a smile, waving enthusiastically to everyone. The noise in the hall gradually subsided, and Hermione chose not to ask any further, as the matter was already settled.
"Another year has passed!" Dumbledore said, standing cheerfully beside his seat instead of sitting down. "Before we indulge in these delicious dishes, I must trouble you to listen to an old man's clichés. I'll keep it brief..."
Unlike the speeches of principals at Muggle schools, when Dumbledore said he'd keep it brief, he truly meant it. After delivering a brief two-sentence speech of thanks and encouragement, he immediately began the segment that the Slytherin students looked forward to most, and the Gryffindor students dreaded.
"Now, as far as I know, we must first proceed with the awarding of the House Cup. The specific scores for each house are as follows: Fourth place, Hufflepuff, three hundred and fifty-two points; Third place, Gryffindor, three hundred and eighty-seven points; Ravenclaw, four hundred and twenty-six points; Slytherin, four hundred and forty-two points."
A thunderous cheer and stomping erupted from the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy even banged his goblet hard on the table, making a series of crisp "clink, clank" sounds.
At the same time, at the professors' table, Dracula was holding a goblet, leisurely drinking the crimson liquid. Hearing the deafening cheers from Slytherin, he subconsciously glanced over, just in time to see Draco's action of abusing the goblet.
Dracula frowned in displeasure and snapped his fingers casually. The goblets of the entire Slytherin house instantly vanished from the tables, so much so that a group of Slytherin wizards, who were cheering until their throats were sore and were just about to drink water, didn't even realize it and inhaled sharply into their palms.
In an instant, the cheers at the Slytherin table turned into a chorus of coughing. The students from the other three houses were delighted to see this. Slytherin's suffering caused everyone to burst into laughter, and the atmosphere inside and outside the hall was filled with joy.
"Yes, yes, the Slytherin students have performed very well," Dumbledore said, suppressing a smile. "However, several other things that happened this semester must also be taken into account."
The laughter in the hall subsided a little, the atmosphere gradually quieted down, and the Slytherin wizards also suppressed their painful coughs, looking around in confusion, wondering how the cups in their hands had suddenly disappeared.
"Ahem, ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I have a few final points to award. Let me see, yes, the first item—Mr. Ron Weasley..."
Ron's face turned completely red, like a sun-dried carrot.
"...He has won the finest game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, for which I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
The cheers of the Gryffindors nearly lifted the enchanted ceiling off its hinges. The stars above their heads seemed to tremble slightly from the shock. An increase of fifty points meant that they had once again risen from third place to second place, and were only five points behind first-place Slytherin. Many clever Gryffindor students turned their gazes to Hermione and Harry. They knew that these three first-year wizards always acted together. Since Dumbledore had given Ron fifty points individually, then Hermione and Harry must also have a share.
"The second item—Miss Hermione Granger... She faced the flames and calmly reasoned logically, for which I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
Unsurprisingly, Hermione also received fifty points. The Gryffindor students around them were ecstatic, jumping up and down around the tables—they had risen a full one hundred points, surpassing Slytherin's four hundred and forty-two points in one fell swoop, and regaining the top spot in the House Cup.
"The third item—Harry Potter..." Dumbledore said. Now that Gryffindor had already taken first place, Harry's score was no longer so important. But the Gryffindor students still gave him face and quieted down, wanting to see how many points Harry would get.
"...He has shown dauntless courage and extraordinary bravery, for which I will award Gryffindor House sixty points!" Amidst the loud cheers, Dumbledore also added ten points to Neville. In the end, Gryffindor's score was fixed at five hundred and fifty-seven points, exceeding Slytherin by more than one hundred points.
The cheers at the Gryffindor table rose higher and higher, as they hugged and celebrated each other. Even the Ravenclaws next door, and even the last-place Hufflepuffs, were infected by their emotions and began to cheer for Gryffindor. This was because Slytherin and the annoying Snape had finally been defeated, and Gryffindor had successfully prevented Slytherin from winning their seventh consecutive House Cup.
Even Professor McGonagall rarely stopped the chaotic crowd, but instead raised her head and glanced triumphantly at Snape, before walking over to shake hands with him happily. Snape's face was frighteningly dark, but he could only manage to squeeze out an awkward smile to show his amazing "demeanor."
"This means," Dumbledore had to use a Sonorus charm on his throat to drown out the thunderous cheers and applause, "that we need to make some small changes to the decorations here." He clapped his hands, and immediately, the green hanging ribbons turned bright red, and the silver ones turned gold; the huge Slytherin snake disappeared, replaced by a majestic Gryffindor lion.
"A fix, this is definitely a fix!" Draco loudly accused the Headmaster of injustice at the Slytherin table, feeling that Dumbledore was biased towards his former house. However, the most embarrassed person after this sentence was uttered was not Dumbledore, but Snape, who had a dark face—as everyone knows, the Head of Slytherin is often accused of rigging the House Cup competition.
The day after the end-of-year banquet, the long-awaited vacation for the students finally arrived.
Hagrid led the first-year students onto the fleet of boats crossing the lake, and then escorted them all the way to Hogsmeade Station, watching them board the Hogwarts Express. The older students came to the main gate of the castle, passed through the two winged boar statues, and boarded the carriages drawn by Thestrals that had been waiting for a long time to go to the station.
The entire Hogwarts Castle seemed to quiet down all at once, leaving only a few professors standing at the entrance of the castle, watching the students leave.
"Any plans for the holidays, Professor Dracula?" Dumbledore looked sentimentally at the departing students, and only after the carriage had turned a corner and completely disappeared from view did he ask.
Dracula once again took out his bright crystal ball and stared at it quietly. "I think I should also learn more about the news over there..." he said softly.
(End of Chapter)
***
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