"Hear Snape's words."
When Malfoy and the others heard Snape, they were all taken aback.
"Overnight? Is the workload really that intense?"
Doubt crept into Malfoy's mind.
"Did that Ciel even sleep last night? How long has he been working for Professor Snape? Can someone really pull all-nighters every night? He still needs to go to the greenhouse and finish Quidditch practice afterward. If this is everyday, even the strongest couldn't do it."
Suddenly, his eyes lit up as if a thought struck him.
"Yes… that's it!"
Malfoy nodded confidently.
"No problem, Dean. An all-nighter? We can do that."
Snape frowned.
"Are you sure?"
He paused, warning them with his eyes.
"If you recognize your limits and decide to drop out, you can say so now."
The Slytherins tensed—but Malfoy stood firm.
"Dean, we won't back down."
Another moment of hesitation as Snape considered them.
"Then you'd better hold on. Don't disappoint me."
He turned on his heel and strode out, muttering to himself.
"Idiots. All of them… monsters without brains. I gave them one chance, and they're still useless. They don't know their opponent's strength, or their own."
He shook his head in disgust.
"Why are Slytherin students like this today?"
Inside the Potions classroom, oblivious to Snape's tirade, the Slytherin students swarmed around Malfoy.
"Malfoy, the Dean… he seems disappointed. I feel like he wants us to withdraw on our own, stop challenging Ciel."
"Why didn't we talk about this first? And why did you say yes so fast?"
Malfoy straightened and explained calmly.
"Listen—this is Snape's test."
He continued:
"He said it's about pulling all-nighters, but think: if Ciel is just human, how can he withstand that kind of work every single night? Doesn't he sleep? That's impossible."
They frowned, listening.
"So Snape must be exaggerating."
He looked around and spoke loudly:
"His real goal has two parts: first, to test whether we can tell fact from fiction; second, to see if we have the determination to push through by any means necessary."
He emphasized the Slytherin creed.
"The end justifies the means. We must do anything necessary to outwork ourselves—and Ciel. That's why Snape used the all-nighter challenge: to see who's strong enough."
The others brightened.
"So if we persevere, Snape will see our resolve and realize we can beat Ciel with numbers… right?"
Malfoy nodded vigorously.
"Exactly. He can do it alone—just imagine what we can do together."
"Let's go!"
Fueled by Malfoy's pep talk, like firing on adrenaline, they plunged into work—cleaning flobberworms with grim determination.
The squirming, slimy things were nauseating. Girls gagged. The mucus burned their skin, itching like hives. But they pushed through.
"Keep going!" Malfoy urged.
"If we finish before Ciel gets to training, he'll walk out and find us done."
"Then we'll crush his Hufflepuff plan and snatch the Cup!"
The Slytherins took a collective breath and continued. Green-faced and itchy, they persevered.
Meanwhile, on the Quidditch pitch, Hufflepuff practiced.
Ciel hovered above, swinging his bat like a cannon firing a bludger. Cedric Diggory and the others scrimmaged on the ground, maneuvering to coordinate with his strikes.
Ciel's style was rare—bludger‑focused. If a real team faced them, his bludgers would smash through defense, and the rest would advance the quaffle. Meanwhile, the seeker hunted the snitch, but that seeker would also dodge Ciel's bludgers. Clever, ruthless, effective.
Cedric, the captain, beamed with excitement. They'd found a tactical niche.
He didn't care if his own role—seeker—was overshadowed by Ciel. All that mattered was winning Hufflepuff's long-elusive Quidditch trophy.
"Let's do this," he told the team.
Solving the seeker‑centric wind-bludger combo, they were refining the strategy into something dangerous.
In the shadows at the field's edge stood a lone figure: Harry.
He'd come for Gryffindor practice, but mixed up the stadiums and ended up here. Still, he couldn't help watching Ciel. The power of his swings left Harry pale.
"When Gryffindor faces Hufflepuff… that's the bludger I'll have to dodge?"
He shivered. "That thing could send me flying—straight to Madam Pomfrey!"
Gryffindor's captain, Wood, sees Slytherin as the archenemy. But Harry thought: "Hufflepuff might just be our real threat."
He started to move—then froze.
An idea struck Harry: "Remember that three-headed dog under the trapdoor… what was it guarding? And I'm not exactly ready to face it." But he'd seen Ciel's power.
"What if… he brought that bat? Three heads on a dog? That's just three swings for one guy!"
Harry's heart raced with excitement.
He waited by the exit, where Ciel was sure to leave after practice.
Ciel emerged from the practice field and blinked at the figure in front of him.
"Harry Potter?"
He frowned. Since arriving at Hogwarts, he'd been keeping to himself—botany, spells, potions, Quidditch—and avoiding entanglements with the famous hero.
"Why are you here?" he asked cautiously.
Harry's eyes were bright.
"Ciel—I saw you playing. Amazing. You've got strength like Hagrid's!"
Ciel remained expressionless.
Harry leaned forward, urgency in his voice:
"There's something—big—threatening Hogwarts. I want to invite you to join me. Together, we can protect the castle."
He couldn't hide his hope:
"With you on our side, we could defeat that dog, stop conspiracies—I can see us saving Hogwarts."
He paused. "Who wouldn't join something like that?"
Ciel's gaze hardened—and Harry held his breath.
End of Chapter 67
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