Suddenly, a ripple of chaos swept through the crowd.
"Snake!" someone shrieked.
But another student, still caught up in the excitement, quickly corrected, "It's Serpent Slide! Brilliant transfiguration, isn't it? Look—Harry's in first place—wait, snake!"
As he turned, he realized that people all around were scattering in panic—a long, black snake had slithered out of nowhere.
The commotion in the audience finally drew the attention of the racers.
Lee Jordan's voice rang out, gleeful and loud:
"Merlin's beard, there's an actual snake on the field!
Ha! Accelerate, accelerate!
We Gryffindor lions won't just trample snakes underfoot—we'll outpace even a real one!"
In an instant, the race descended into utter mayhem.
Not everyone was fearless around snakes.
Some students, panicked, lost control of their Serpent Slide and veered wildly into the crowd.
Others, startled out of their wits, let their transfiguration vanish—tumbling face-first onto the grassy slope.
But a few quick thinkers sprang into action, drawing their wands and casting spells in rapid succession.
"Impedimenta!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Glacius!"
Unfortunately, the snake was far too nimble—most spells missed by a mile, and a few even struck unlucky bystanders.
Only one Impediment Jinx actually hit, sending the snake flying several meters through the air.
Before anyone could cheer, the snake slithered back, hissing with fury.
But the delay was enough for everyone to regroup.
Hermione, standing in the crowd, quickly cast a Sonorus charm on herself and shouted,
"First-years with Serpent Slide, clear the field!
Second- and third-years, wands at the ready!"
Thanks to the intense study atmosphere in the Gryffindor common room lately, Hermione had earned serious respect among first-years.
There was a time when many found her a bit insufferable, always showing off.
But this term, her willingness to share study tips and lead second-year meetings had revealed her true strengths—a natural leader.
So, almost without thinking, everyone followed her orders.
(If any upper-years had been present, things might have played out differently.)
Except for a handful of overconfident first-years, most students either Serpent Slid or ran to join the other Houses on the sidelines, turning to cheer for Gryffindor from a safe distance.
A few students from other Houses even stepped up, ready to help their Gryffindor friends.
Red and green flashes streaked through the air, spells flying toward the snake.
By the time Harry, who'd been lost in the thrill of speed and had raced far ahead, doubled back on his Serpent Slide,
the snake had already been reduced to ash under the barrage of spells.
Staring at the spot where the snake had vanished, Harry couldn't shake the feeling he'd missed something important…
Meanwhile, every Gryffindor underclassman was cheering as if they'd vanquished a legendary monster.
Neville was practically bouncing with excitement, bragging to anyone who'd listen:
"Did you see that? My Petrification Spell hit it right on the mark—timed it perfectly as it moved!"
Others in the crowd who hadn't joined the attack just rolled their eyes. "It was only a snake. I could've handled it myself—no need for a whole army."
They drifted away, a bit disappointed.
Only a few Hufflepuffs looked genuinely regretful.
According to a much-whispered House cookbook, there was a recipe for snake stew—such a big snake, what a waste!
As for the Slytherins, who'd been watching from a safe distance, their faces were thunderous.
Draco looked downright ill.
Nearby, Theodore Nott gave a derisive snort.
"Summoning a snake in the middle of a bunch of wizards? What were you thinking?
Why not let one loose near Hufflepuff?
They'd probably thank you—with a nice dish!"
Other Slytherins opened their mouths, but thought better of it, turning away in silence.
Anyone with older siblings at Hogwarts had already been warned:
"If you don't want to end up eating snake stew, never summon a snake in front of a Hufflepuff. Best not even keep pet snakes, just in case!"
"There was once a Slytherin disgrace who conjured a snake in front of the Hufflepuffs.
After that, those little badgers taunted him constantly, demanding he summon more snakes.
Every time, they'd hand him a bowl of snake stew as thanks…
Eventually, he got hooked on the stuff and started conjuring snakes on request.
If a sixth-year prefect hadn't stepped in and set him straight…"
"In short: never, ever summon snakes near Hufflepuff."
—
That night, the Gryffindor common room was unusually lively—not a single group study session in sight.
The younger students were busy celebrating their first real victory.
The upper-years mostly kept to the corners—these days, underclassmen were the prized "point crops" in every House.
Everyone was eager to curry favor, not crack down.
Truthfully, after weeks of relentless studying, it was a relief to see everyone so relaxed.
Even the fifth-years—who couldn't participate in the point-earning frenzy—let it go.
Snacks appeared from every pocket and drawer, shared around the room.
Ron eyed a Belching Sweet, then quietly slipped it into Harry's hand.
He nodded toward Hermione, who was surrounded by admirers, and whispered,
"When did she get so popular?"
Harry didn't even look before popping the sweet into his mouth.
"Isn't it great? At least she won't have so much time to—hic—watch—hic—our—hic—homework.
Ro—hic—Ron!"
Realizing what was happening, Harry grabbed Ron in a headlock, determined to force-feed him a Belching Sweet as well.
—
This week, life had never been better for the younger students.
Upper-years who'd barely noticed them before now handed out sweets and treats in the common room, all hoping to be chosen as spell partners.
Rumor had it many of these snacks had been confiscated by Professor McGonagall from the Headmaster's office,
then distributed to the prefects to hand out, encouraging the upper-years to win more points for Gryffindor.
Supposedly, there were even more secret rewards, though no one spoke of them openly.
And it wasn't just Gryffindor—word was, all four Houses had advanced rewards of their own.
Some even whispered that Professor Snape had promised Slytherin upper-years:
whoever earned the highest individual reward, and if Slytherin won the House Cup,
would receive two drops of Felix Felicis as a personal prize.
This left the other Houses green with envy—vowing they'd never let Slytherin win that reward.
(Felix Felicis is a potion that brings extraordinary luck to the drinker, but it's fiendishly complex to brew—taking six months of careful work.)
Needless to say, all of this was surely orchestrated by Professor Holmes behind the scenes.
In his mind, the study hall was never meant to be just a place for casual spell practice.
But turning it into a formal course? That journey was only just beginning.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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