The Weasley twins had just gotten good news from Sean.
For the entire day before the End-of-Year Feast, they were humming tunes and popping their heads out from behind portraits to scare late-night wanderers half to death.
The End-of-Year Feast quickly became what every student cared about most. For all the wild rumours beforehand—about the alchemy conference, the lucky black cat, Snape assassinating Quirrell—
By the time the school year was ending, everyone's focus had returned to the final results.
There wasn't much to say about individual glory. After all, no one could outdo that Mr Green, unless you somehow scored a hundred and twenty-one out of a hundred and twenty.
But collective honour—the House Cup—was what everyone discussed most.
The day before the feast,
The castle began to buzz again as the professors set about decorating the Great Hall.
Professor Flitwick took the lead personally, with his proudest student, Sean Green, at his side.
Everybody knew this.
The Great Hall had been draped in Ravenclaw blue and bronze to celebrate their winning the House Cup. Behind the staff table hung a huge banner bearing the Ravenclaw eagle.
Right now, Professor Flitwick was pulling Sean along with him as they placed little Ravenclaw decorations around the hall.
"My dear Mr Green, what a rare thing this is—Ravenclaw hasn't taken the House Cup in a very long time,"
Flitwick said in his squeaky voice, even dabbing at his eyes.
The Ravenclaws behind him looked a little embarrassed.
Little eagles had never cared that much about collective glory, so even though they'd always been strong, the final winner usually turned out to be battle-obsessed Gryffindor or the by-any-means-necessary Slytherin.
Today the Great Hall was much quieter than usual. The Slytherins were doing their best to stay away; they were seething.
And as for Gryffindor, their mood was very strange.
Ever since exams ended, Ron hadn't shut up about his, Harry's, and Hermione's "legendary exploits".
Normally Seamus and the others were happy enough to listen—he told it with such dramatic flair that in this rumour-soaked Hogwarts it made for a decent story.
But now—
Outside the hall, Sean had just escaped.
Flitwick was so happy he even went out of his way to chat with Professor McGonagall.
"Yes, Minerva, did you hear? We finished with five hundred and eleven points!
It's truly gratifying—one of the best scores in Hogwarts history.
It's all thanks to dear Mr Green—"
He would always stop himself there, realising his longtime friend beside him was already forcing a smile.
By the time that happened, Sean had long since fled.
He stepped out of the hall; everywhere he went, Ravenclaws were greeting him.
"Sean, I told you you're Ravenclaw's saviour."
Michael was as dramatic as ever.
"Mr Green, thank you for your contribution."
Prefect Penelope looked positively triumphant as she click-clacked past him.
Sean nodded back in greeting, let his eyes roam the corridor, and saw Ron and the others looking pretty miserable, surrounded by a group of equally gloomy Gryffindors.
"Weasley, stop lying already! Forbidden Forest stories, trap doors—yeah right. I think the fact you weren't caught and docked more points is Merlin's mercy!"
Dean muttered angrily.
"Gryffindor only has two hundred and fifty points! Merlin's beard—we've never scored this low in the history of the House!"
Seamus glared at them.
Just think: Gryffindor should have five hundred and fifty points!
If they'd won the Quidditch match and not had a hundred and fifty points docked by Harry and company.
Ron was still going on about trap doors and this completely unprovable adventure, and they just couldn't stomach it anymore.
"It's true…"
Ron could only mutter weakly.
He had no way to argue; they really had lost a lot of points, and they had lost the Quidditch match.
Harry wanted nothing more than for the floor to swallow him; even Hermione's face wasn't looking great.
In truth, she'd already heard enough whispers and complaints.
Even though the points she'd earned more than made up fifty points, no one in Gryffindor cared about that.
Losing points always made a deeper impression than gaining them.
Sean walked over from down the corridor. Seamus and the others snorted and stalked off, easing the pressure on the trio.
"Don't mind them. There might still be a surprise."
Sean said quietly.
"What surprise could there possibly be?"
Ron said miserably.
The End-of-Year Feast began.
On their way into the Great Hall, a very cautious Harry and his friends ran right into the Slytherins.
They had been irritable to begin with, but when they saw Harry and the others, they suddenly started clapping, delighted:
"Potter, thanks for handing Gryffindor such a low score! Might be the lowest in history, yeah? Hahaha—"
"In a few weeks' time they'll have forgotten all about it. Fred and George have been losing points since the day they arrived, and everyone still loves them."
Ron, looking sour, tried to reassure him.
"But they never lost one hundred and fifty points in a single go, did they?"
Harry said gloomily.
"Mm… that's true."
Ron admitted.
The Great Hall was noisy, tables piled high with food.
Justin was sharing a few cooking-magic tricks with Sean; Sean was listening carefully.
A moment later, Hermione, Harry, and Ron slipped quietly into the hall.
Seeing them sitting at the Ravenclaw table, the Gryffindors—who usually didn't care about these things—were especially touchy today.
Fortunately, just then Dumbledore arrived. The noise in the hall gradually subsided.
"Another year gone!"
Dumbledore said happily.
"Before we all enjoy these delicious dishes, I must trouble you to listen to a few words from an old man. What a marvellous year this has been! Your little heads must be fuller than ever before—
Ahead of you lies a whole summer holiday, plenty of time to digest what you've learned and make room for new things—
Now, as I understand it, we must first proceed to the awarding of the House Cup. The House scores are as follows:
In fourth place, Gryffindor, with 250 points; third, Hufflepuff, with 352 points; second, Slytherin, with 452 points; and first, Ravenclaw, with 511 points."
The Ravenclaw table burst into a modest cheer and applause.
The sound was nothing, however, compared to the Hufflepuffs.
Hufflepuff didn't particularly care who won the House Cup—so long as it wasn't Slytherin.