Snape picked up a piece of bread with evident suspicion, sniffing it lightly.
"This isn't ordinary bread…" he muttered.
"Without a potion as a medium, the soul can still be transmitted… but... he actually managed it? He's only in his first year... and he's already begun?"
"Yes!" Dumbledore said, his voice filled with quiet pride. "Incredible, isn't it? And not just a brush with the magic of the soul — it was pure. Utterly pure. An expression of emotion, not the soul's manipulation."
His gaze drifted back to the Mirror of Erised, a contented smile on his lips.
"He'll become an extraordinary wizard. I'm certain of it."
Snape gave a slow, reluctant nod, still carefully keeping his eyes averted from the Mirror.
At the door, just before stepping out, he said curtly, "Good. So long as he's not possessed."
Dumbledore's voice followed him softly. "Yes... everything is just as it should be."
Out in the corridor, Snape walked alone, the slice of bread still clutched in his hand.
He stared down at it, brow furrowed, as though trying to solve an ancient riddle. After a long pause, he made up his mind and took a decisive bite.
The bread was no longer warm, yet the crust retained its crispness, and the inside was soft and fragrant — comforting.
It was more than food. It was a sensation. A kind of magic that reached both taste and spirit.
Almost involuntarily, Snape's eyes began to redden.
He rubbed them quickly, as though something had irritated them. But the redness lingered, blooming along the rims of his sockets, and a faint wetness clung stubbornly to the corners.
He stared at the bread, at the place where he'd taken a bite, and murmured quietly:
"Indeed... the Dark Lord hasn't touched him. Not yet."
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As the final feast of the school year, the End-of-Term Banquet was, as always, filled with cheer and noise.
The students chatted eagerly, their voices overlapping as they shared plans for the summer holidays, excitement palpable in every corner of the Great Hall.
Perhaps the only ones not swept up in the energy were the ghosts. With the students gone for the summer, Hogwarts would fall into a quiet stillness. The ghosts, with no new company to interact with, wore wistful expressions tinged with loneliness.
For most students, however, there was more to this feast than farewells and vacation talk — there was the highly anticipated announcement of the House Cup winner.
It wasn't just the students who were eager. The Heads of House took great pride in the outcome, as the Cup stood as a symbol of honor and accomplishment.
This year, the decorations had already been changed. Rich blue and bronze banners draped from the enchanted ceiling, and a massive flag bearing the proud image of an eagle hung behind the staff table.
Ravenclaw had soared this year. After winning the Quidditch Cup, they had also taken a commanding lead in the House Points Hourglass.
Professor Flitwick was beaming so broadly his ears twitched with delight. He had gone to Honeydukes especially and bought an enormous amount of sweets, charming them into a shower of sparkling candy that floated down as students took their seats.
Naturally, Ravenclaw received the largest share, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.
Most students took this as a delightful treat, unwrapping their candies eagerly. Only the Slytherins looked particularly sour — after all, they had held the Cup for six consecutive years, alongside multiple Quidditch championships.
But their reign had ended, and the new double champions were Ravenclaw.
At the Gryffindor table, things were more subdued. Harry, now recovered and back at school, sat unusually quiet, his expression gloomy. His mood had rubbed off on Hermione, Ron, and Neville as well.
The four of them had cost Gryffindor an enourmous number points for their nighttime excursion — an enormous penalty that had secured Gryffindor's place at the bottom of the scoreboard.
For days afterward, Harry had been the subject of endless gossip and disdain. It wasn't until the truth about the dark wizard infiltration came to light that some of the criticism finally quieted.
Just then, the doors opened and Dumbledore entered the hall. A hush fell almost immediately as all heads turned toward the podium.
Vizet, too, looked up, but not to hear the announcement — he was more concerned about Dumbledore's expression.
When he saw the old wizard's rosy complexion and bright eyes, Vizet relaxed.
Dumbledore looked almost festive, dressed in a loose, glowing robe and a matching soft orange hat that made him resemble a flame dancing merrily in a fireplace.
As though sensing Vizet's eyes on him, Dumbledore turned and offered a gentle nod, one that said plainly: All is well.
He stepped forward and addressed the hall, smiling as brightly as the decorations.
"What a year it has been — unforgettable in every way! I'm delighted to see us all gathered together to celebrate."
"But before we tuck into this magnificent feast, we must first honor the champions of the year. Let's take a look at the final House standings…"
He paused theatrically, and the students leaned forward.
"Gryffindor: fourth place, with 278 points.Hufflepuff: third, with 376 points.Slytherin: second place, 435 points.And in first place—Ravenclaw, with 573 points!"
The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers and applause, and even the students at the neighboring Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables clapped politely.
After all, Ravenclaw had broken Slytherin's six-year winning streak. That alone was worth celebrating.
"Now, if I may ask your patience a little longer," said Dumbledore, raising his voice over the applause, "I'd like to say a few additional words. As some of you may have heard there was, quite recently, an attempted invasion of the school by dark wizards."
A quiet murmur ran through the hall.
"Fortunately, we had several students who acted with courage and quick thinking, helping to protect Hogwarts in a time of great danger. For their bravery, I believe a few last-minute points are in order."
At the staff table, Snape narrowed his eyes and folded his arms, reclining slightly in his chair with a faint, unreadable smirk — as if thinking, Let's see what you're up to now.
Oblivious, or perhaps simply ignoring him, Dumbledore went on brightly:
"First, Mr. Ronald Weasley! He demonstrated true courage and self-sacrifice by winning a perilous game of wizard chess. Gryffindor shall receive fifty points!"
"Miss Hermione Granger, for remaining calm under pressure and applying careful reasoning — fifty points!"
"Mr. Harry Potter, for his extraordinary courage in confronting dark wizards — sixty points!"
"Mr. Neville Longbottom, for the rare and admirable bravery it takes to stand up to one's friends—ten points!"
The Gryffindor table exploded. They hadn't won the House Cup, but they had leapt from last place to second, and their joy was unmatched.
Laughter and cheers rang out as students hugged Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. McGonagall cracked a smile.
And then —
"Finally," said Dumbledore, now glancing warmly toward Harry before turning his attention to the Ravenclaw table, "Mr. Vizet Lovegood!"
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