Chapter 110. End-of-Year Feast
At long last, it was time for the End-of-Year Feast.
These past few days had left Adrian Wesson exhausted; just marking the students' end-of-term work had taken him an entire day.
Because Adrian had raised the difficulty of the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam, the students' papers were… well, hard to describe in a single phrase.
Even so, quite a few scripts left a deep impression on him.
For example, Mr Ward in fourth year—who managed to avoid every single correct answer, astonishingly.
By contrast, third-year Cedric Diggory answered all of the questions; Adrian gave him an Outstanding without hesitation.
Our little Hufflepuff really did us proud.
Adrian also rewarded him with an amulet made from lightning-struck wood for his excellent performance in the exam.
That kept Cedric excited for quite a while.
Of course, the other students who received "Outstanding" also got amulets from Adrian as prizes.
The Great Hall.
Before the feast began.
Seated at the table, Harry was discussing final marks with Hermione and Ron—their report cards seemed to have arrived a few days early this term.
"Better than I expected," Harry said in some surprise as he looked at his report card. "Mostly Exceeds Expectations and Outstanding… wait! Why would Snape give me Outstanding in Potions?"
"Perhaps he simply couldn't find fault with you," said Hermione, proudly holding up her report card.
A dazzling sweep of Outstandings drew the eye.
Ron craned over to glance at Harry's report, then at Hermione's, and couldn't help curling his lip; he felt as if a thick wall stood between him and the other two.
As the three of them chatted, more and more people filtered into the hall.
Before long, Dumbledore and the professors arrived as well.
When everyone was in place—
"Another year has ended, children!" Dumbledore looked positively delighted. "I am very glad that all of you have spent yet another splendid year here at Hogwarts. Much as I dislike waffling on, there are a few necessary announcements before you tuck into your delicious fare…
"First, the presentation of the House Cup. The totals for each house are as follows: in fourth place, Hufflepuff, three hundred and seventy-seven points; third, Ravenclaw, four hundred and twenty; second, Slytherin, four hundred and forty-two; first, Gryffindor, four hundred and seventy-four!"
With that, Dumbledore smiled and gave his wand a wave.
Gold and red streamers unfurled from the ceiling; on the wall behind the staff table, a banner appeared bearing a gigantic lion's head.
The entire hall was drowned in the cheers of the Gryffindors.
Harry clapped tirelessly—he had played a very large part in winning that first place.
At the staff table—
"Hmph!"
Adrian saw Severus Snape toss his head to one side.
Professor McGonagall was chatting excitedly with Professor Flitwick beside her, and Flitwick smiled and nodded in reply.
In fact, before the feast had started, everyone had already known this result.
After all, among the four hourglasses that displayed the points, Gryffindor's was clearly ahead of the others by a fair margin.
Still, for Gryffindor to take first place, the points Dumbledore added for Harry and the others had been decisive.
A pity that Hufflepuff's students were fourth again this year.
Of course, that's Hufflepuff for you—even in fourth place, they stayed cheerful, eating and drinking as they pleased.
Unlike the Slytherins, who wore long faces.
They had tried hard enough, hadn't they?
Points are meaningless; happiness is the true principle. The Hufflepuff students understood this very well.
Adrian thought so too.
Dumbledore raised his hand, signalling the students to be quiet.
"Lastly," he went on, "let us express our thanks to the staff of Hogwarts for their hard work."
"Tuck in, children."
The End-of-Year Feast was as plentiful as the Start-of-Term Feast.
This time, Adrian did not have a tableful of potatoes in front of him.
After polishing off a steak with some unknown sauce, Adrian looked to his side—he had deliberately taken a seat next to Professor Trelawney.
Because it was the End-of-Year Feast, the Divination professor, who seldom showed her face, had also attended.
Trelawney was sipping a glass of sherry, staring into a small mirror inlaid with blue stones.
Her eyes were saucer-wide behind her lenses, and every so often her mouth twitched with a nervous tic, as though she had seen something terrifying in the glass.
Sherry was Professor Trelawney's favourite.
Before long, several empty bottles had piled up before her.
And more sherry was constantly being brought to the table by House-elves.
Only on an occasion like this could Trelawney drink so much sherry—and that, too, was why she liked to attend feasts.
At last, Trelawney felt Adrian's gaze.
"Sherry is really quite good," she said, picking up the bottle in front of her and pouring herself another glass. "It enhances my Inner Eye. That is why I drink so very much."
Adrian, however, believed she simply liked drinking.
"Do you know the country of Albania, Professor Trelawney?" Adrian said offhandedly. "I'm thinking of going to have a look there this summer."
"Albania?" Trelawney first looked puzzled, then took a sip, and said, all mysteriously, "Ah… I know everything—you will meet with…"
"Death?"
Adrian said it casually, anticipating the words on the tip of her tongue.
"Oh! I am not joking," Trelawney cried, flushing scarlet as she flapped her arms. "Do not go there! Will you?"
"Thank you for the warning," Adrian nodded.
Trelawney's prophecies were a passive ability—and an unstable one at that.
Judging from her reaction, she had indeed forgotten the prophecy she had given Adrian before.
At last the End-of-Year Feast ended, and the professors and students filed out one by one.
As he left, Harry even showed Adrian his report card again—in truth,
Adrian had already seen it.
It had to be said: very impressive.
He was only a shade behind Hermione in History of Magic.
In the rest of his classes, he had earned Outstandings.
He had not let down the "preschool coaching" Adrian had given him.
Of course, once some time had passed and Hogwarts' coursework grew harder, the effect of that "preschool coaching" would become less obvious.
To foster Harry properly, perhaps Adrian could give him a solid round of special training over the summer.
Harry's natural talent must not go to waste.
If one wishes to become a qualified wizard, one must never stop learning!
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