Chapter 73: Two Suns in the Sky
"By the way, Professor—what about the two students who were replaced?"
The question suddenly occurred to Russell, and he couldn't help asking.
"You don't need to worry about that," Snape replied coldly. "They were kept locked in the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office the entire time."
"Fythorne," Snape continued, clearly testing him, "do you know why Corvey didn't kill them, but instead kept them alive?"
Russell understood this was an examination of sorts.
"Because Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to assume another person's appearance, but only for a limited duration," he answered. "More importantly, it can't turn someone into a dead person."
"It seems you've learned… passably," Snape said, chin lifting slightly.
Russell decided to take that as praise—after all, such words rarely came from Snape.
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After dinner, the students did not leave the Great Hall, having been informed in advance.
Dumbledore rose to his feet and clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"I imagine you're all curious about what happened last night," he said warmly.
"Now, I'll explain the events from beginning to end."
During his account, however, certain details were deliberately omitted. By the time he finished, the story sounded as though Russell alone had noticed Corvey's abnormal behavior and acted independently to stop him.
As Dumbledore's voice fell, thunderous applause erupted across the Great Hall.
The tale had stirred their blood—many students wished they themselves had been in Russell's place.
"Because Russell broke curfew, Ravenclaw will lose twenty points," Dumbledore announced.
"However, for successfully foiling the plot of several Dark Wizards, I award him fifty points."
The scores of the two houses were now equal—but since the hourglasses had already stopped, Slytherin's still technically held more sand.
"Although the House Cup has already been awarded to Slytherin," Dumbledore continued, smiling faintly,
"I believe a small adjustment is in order. It may seem a little unfair to Slytherin, but please forgive an old man's moment of indulgence."
"This year's House Cup will be shared—joint champions: Ravenclaw and Slytherin."
As he spoke, Ravenclaw's hourglass began moving once more, grains of sand trickling down until it matched Slytherin's exactly. With another clap of his hands, half of the green decorations in the hall transformed into blue.
"A truly unprecedented moment!" Professor Flitwick declared loudly, applauding with delight.
Snape, as if he had anticipated this outcome, showed little reaction.
The Slytherin table, however, erupted with discontent—after all, a guaranteed victory had just been split in half, and that was not something they were inclined to accept quietly.
The Slytherins' outrage amounted to nothing more than impotent fury. No matter how bitter they were, they couldn't change Dumbledore's decision. All they could do was glare daggers at Russell.
Hey, this was Dumbledore's call—if you've got complaints, take them up with him, Russell thought, instinctively ducking behind the crowd to avoid their hostile stares.
In stark contrast, the Ravenclaw table erupted into cheers. The little eagles swarmed around Russell, lining up to shake his hand. Senior Louise was so excited that she grabbed him and tried to plant a kiss on his cheek—Russell barely managed to escape.
They were simply too enthusiastic, but it was understandable. Ravenclaw hadn't won the House Cup in a very, very long time—even sharing one counted as a victory.
After dinner, Dumbledore stopped Russell. There was something else he wanted to discuss.
"Russell, congratulations," Dumbledore said, winking at him playfully. "Barring any surprises, you may well be the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin."
Russell thought Dumbledore was a bit too old to still be winking like that—perhaps only Grindelwald appreciated it. Was that something one could say out loud?
He definitely wasn't brave enough.
"First Class, Professor?" Russell asked hopefully.
Snape, who had been drinking water nearby, promptly choked and started coughing violently.
Dumbledore felt he might need to reassess Russell—he hadn't realized the boy was this shameless.
"Second Class, then?" Russell pressed.
Snape coughed even harder.
"Well… Third Class would do," Russell added, sounding mildly disappointed.
Despite his words, Russell was thrilled inside. The Order of Merlin was one of the most prestigious honors in the wizarding world.
There was more good news: the second Biting Rose he had been cultivating in the Room of Requirement had fully matured.
During his fight with Corvey, that plant had played a decisive role. Without its poison, Russell was fairly sure he wouldn't have survived the night.
He examined the three pale-pink seeds in his hand, already planning how to cultivate them.
He even gave one seed to Cedric, who was overjoyed and said he'd grow it at home to keep his father company.
A model son, Russell decided, watching Cedric cradle the seed like a priceless treasure.
A few days later, the exam results were posted. Russell ranked first with perfect scores, far ahead of second place. Under his ruthless pre-exam "hell training," both of his roommates—Rosen and James—had managed to pass every subject as well.
And just like that, Russell's first year at Hogwarts came to an end, rich with gains.
They boarded the Hogwarts Express, chatting and laughing as the countryside outside the windows grew greener and neater. As the train passed through Muggle towns, they changed out of their robes and into jackets and casual clothes.
At last, the train pulled into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross.
"Write to me over the summer," Cedric said. "Or come visit—my dad would be delighted."
"Of course. See you next year, Cedric."
Russell had already spotted Gomez's car.
"Russell, I heard you took down two Dark wizards!" Gomez said the moment he climbed in, twisting around eagerly. "Tell us everything!"
Russell had no idea where he'd heard that—Old Dumbledore had sworn he hadn't told them.
With no choice, Russell recounted the whole story again, finishing with a sigh. "If it weren't for those two potions and the explosives Uncle Fester gave me, I probably wouldn't be sitting here right now."
"In that case," Wednesday said flatly, "I would have buried you in the garden beneath my room. That way, whenever I stood at the window, I could look down and see your grave."
She said it with a perfectly blank expression.
Russell didn't know how to respond—it's not like I can say 'then I'll die again for you'. He let out an awkward laugh and quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.