Chapter 20: Extra Points and Unwavering Loyalty

In the bright, airy Charms classroom, Ciel's steady, rhythmic incantations of "Lumos" became a metronome for the Hufflepuff side of the room. Watching him—calm, focused, and tireless—seemed to ignite a spark of collective determination in his housemates. Though their arms ached and their concentration, usually so prone to wandering, was stretched thin, they gritted their teeth and persevered. Ciel had earned points for their house; they couldn't let him do all the work alone.

"Lumos!" one boy muttered, his face scrunched in effort.

"Luma… no, Lumos!" a girl next to him corrected herself, shaking her sore arm before trying again.

Slowly, painstakingly, the clumsy mispronunciations ceased. One by one, tiny, hesitant points of light began to appear at the tips of their wands, some sputtering like faulty Muggle lightbulbs, others glowing with a weak but earnest light. Those who succeeded, instead of resting, immediately turned to help the classmates who were still struggling, whispering encouragement and gently correcting wand movements. A quiet sense of camaraderie filled their corner of the room. The lights appeared faster and faster, a constellation of small, hopeful stars blooming in the afternoon sun.

Just as the bell for the end of class began its cheerful chime, Hannah Abbott, her face flushed with a mixture of anxiety and exertion, took a final, deep breath.

"Lumos!"

Among the little badgers, the last point of light flickered to life.

Professor Flitwick, who had been watching with a growing smile, applauded loudly, his small hands making a surprisingly sharp sound. "Ten points to Hufflepuff!" he squeaked with genuine delight. "For your effort, your perseverance, and your unity!"

The Hufflepuffs beamed, their faces glowing with a shared, hard-won accomplishment. The little eagles of Ravenclaw, however, were thoroughly dejected. They had started strong, earning a quick ten points for their house at the beginning of the class. But now, with the thirteen points Ciel and the others had earned, Hufflepuff had surpassed them. They had lost.

If they had lost to another group of clever, competitive students, they could have accepted it. But to be outdone by the famously "dull" Hufflepuffs… they simply couldn't comprehend it.

As the bell chimed its final note, the Hufflepuffs, rubbing their sore arms, left the classroom with shining eyes and a single, unified purpose.

"No more classes!"

"Time to eat!"

"I'm starving!"

"Goodbye, Professor Flitwick!"

The Ravenclaws stared blankly at the retreating tide of cheerful badgers, then looked resentfully at their own Head of House. Professor Flitwick met their gazes, a strange, knowing smile on his face.

"Finding it very strange, are you?" he asked gently. "Among the four houses, Hufflepuff students are often considered the most dull, and Ravenclaw students the most intelligent. Why, then, did you lose?" He let the question hang in the air. "At the end of this lesson, I want to teach you one last thing: cleverness and dullness are often two sides of the same coin. More talented individuals have come out of Hufflepuff than any of the other three houses combined, and that is not just because there are more of them. Eagles being surpassed by badgers has been quite common throughout history."

Some of the little eagles looked down, dejected. Others were lost in thought. But finally, the rumbling of their stomachs broke the silence. They were growing children, and they had been practicing spells for an entire period. They were famished. Forgetting their loss, they too headed for the Great Hall.

Meanwhile, the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins were emerging from the dungeons, their expressions a study in contrasts. The little snakes of Slytherin were all looking smug and superior, while the usually energetic lions of Gryffindor were shrouded in a collective gloom.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Malfoy and his cronies began talking and laughing loudly, reenacting scenes from their Potions class with theatrical cruelty.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity," Malfoy drawled, imitating Snape's silky, menacing tone.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Goyle chimed in, his voice a brutish parody.

"I don't know, sir," Malfoy replied, mimicking Harry's supposed ignorance.

They continued their mocking performance, their laughter echoing across the hall. Ciel, at the Hufflepuff table, was absently eating, his main focus on the small pots of Goldfish Vine scattered among his housemates. He could tell by the size of the reward orbs that the plants Hannah Abbott carried were maturing at a speed second only to Neville's. In another five days, hers would be ready. The others would follow within two to three weeks. By then, his Magical Perception Enhancement might even reach the Silver tier, a qualitative leap that would open up new possibilities.

Just then, Malfoy's taunts grew louder, pulling Ciel from his thoughts. He saw Neville sitting at the Gryffindor table, his face pale and his shoulders slumped. He hadn't been sent to the hospital wing, which was a relief. After all, Neville was his most reliable provider of Goldfish Vine rewards. If he was out of commission, who would make up for the lost productivity?

Malfoy's gaze landed on Neville, and a fresh wave of derisive laughter erupted from the Slytherin table. "But if you ask me, Potter isn't the most foolish one in the class," he crowed. "Merlin's beard, how can anyone be as stupid as Longbottom? I was really hoping he'd throw the porcupine quills in while the cauldron was still heating. What a shame. We could have seen him covered in boils and crying."

At the staff table, Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed into a thin, angry line. Professor Flitwick looked displeased. But Professor Sprout's face was a mask of cold fury.

"Severus," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, "you need to control the students in your house. That is too much. And you—you cannot keep using such hurtful words to mock students. Not everyone is a Potions genius like you!"

Snape looked at her, his expression cold and unyielding, a blatant display of favoritism for his own house. "That is my teaching method," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "For students without talent, letting them realize their limitations early is a form of kindness. As for the students' little squabbles… I thought it was school custom for professors not to interfere? After all," he added, a cruel twist to his lips, "this is the wizarding world, not a fairy tale."

***

(End of Chapter)

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