When are students at their most relaxed?
Right after exams, but before the results come out.
Even top-performing students let themselves breathe a little during this window. As for the easygoing and "barely passing is enough" crowd? They grab this brief break like it's their last chance at freedom.
Since the invention of exams, this pattern has never changed, at least, not in any significant way.
Hogwarts students were no exception. At their age, they were brimming with energy, and now that the pressure of exams had lifted, that energy quickly found new outlets in all sorts of… creative activities.
Older students might sneak off to empty classrooms for dates postponed by exam stress. The younger years didn't have that option, so they vented their pent-up energy in more chaotic ways, almost like they were trying to make up for every second they lost studying.
Part of the blame fell on the Inter-School Exchange Event. Because of it, this year's Quidditch Cup was canceled, robbing the students of one of their favorite energy outlets.
So, where did all that energy go?
Fighting.
Yes, actual fighting. It was practically a Hogwarts tradition.
And this year, things got especially intense.
Without Quidditch to boost their points, Slytherin couldn't pull ahead like usual. Hufflepuff, frustrated that their new training methods had no stage to shine on, missed out on a prime chance to rise in the rankings.
As a result, tensions between the Houses ran high.
In fact, the current standings were insanely close, so close it was almost laughable. Slytherin held first place, while Hufflepuff was last… with a difference of just five points. That's right. A mere five points separated the top and bottom of the leaderboard!
Ravenclaw, having surged late in the year with their encyclopedic knowledge, was just one point behind Slytherin. Gryffindor, who had earned plenty of merit during the Exchange Event, sat one point above Hufflepuff.
Why say "for now"?
Because even though professors could no longer add points after exams, there was still one authority left who could deduct them.
And if only five points separated first and fourth place?
Then a single well-timed deduction could flip the entire House Cup ranking on its head!
Which meant every House was only one small step away from claiming the Cup, as long as they could drag the others down.
Stirring up trouble on purpose might be too much… but reporting rule violations? Perfectly reasonable.
Unfortunately, Mr. Filch quickly caught wind of the rising tensions. Strangely, he had begun showing up late to incidents, often arriving after fights had ended. And when he did deduct points, it was only a token single point… usually from the loser.
To be fair, Mr. Filch's greatest wish had always been the return of corporal punishment. Watching students beat each other up? That was close enough. After all, brawling was hardly a new thing at Hogwarts, this year's just happened to be more intense.
Besides, Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing was a miracle worker. This yearly surge of injuries had almost become an unofficial supplement to Defense Against the Dark Arts, especially with how often the subject's teacher changed. With no consistent instruction, students had to "train" somehow, and they still had to pass the O.W.L.s in fifth year.
So with the staff quietly turning a blind eye, student fights continued, as they did every year. This year, they just happened to involve all four Houses.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
It was after reading in the library one evening that Allen encountered what might be described as an Olympic-level Defense Against the Dark Arts final exam, he got ambushed.
Nearly thirty Slytherins surrounded him, many of them faces he recognized, how could he not? He'd sent at least half of them to the hospital wing at some point over the year.
"Allen! Long time no see!" said their leader, a background character whom Allen vaguely remembered knocking out close to ten times this year. Sadly, he still hadn't bothered learning the guy's name.
Allen raised an eyebrow. "Not everyone came, huh? What's the matter, does the hospital serve a great breakfast or something?" He smiled as he spoke, while subtly scanning for escape routes.
Yeah right, he thought, this isn't Dynasty Warriors. Back at the start of the year, I could bully a few undertrained first-years, but after a whole semester of actual magic lessons? There's no way I can take on thirty students alone.
"Allen, remember me?" a tall Slytherin stepped forward, glaring at Allen like he wanted to shallow him whole.
Dude… who are you? We're not even on speaking terms.
Seeing Allen's blank expression, the boy snarled, "You bastard! You humiliated me in front of the whole school! That time I was hung upside-down by a swarm of bats? Everyone's still talking about it! I could have reported you to the professors, but I didn't. Know why, Allen?"
He stepped forward, teeth clenched. "Because I wanted to take care of it myself. And today, I'm going to ruin you, Hufflepuff genius or not!"
"We'll strip you down, tie you to a bunch of owls, and fly you around the school for everyone to see! You'll be a laughingstock!"
"But," he sneered dramatically, "since I'm feeling generous… I'll give you one last chance. Kneel. Apologize. Bow your head to me."
He lifted one foot.
"Lick my shoes clean, and I'll let you go."
"Don't count on Dumbledore or the professors to save you. I don't care if I get expelled, I'm washing away this disgrace today!"
"So, what's it going to be, mudblood? Get tied up, or crawl like a dog?"
Even the Slytherins around him were stunned.
"John, are you crazy?! You'll get expelled!"
"I don't care!" the boy, John, shouted. "I swear on the honor of the Lind family, I'll take full responsibility! I'd rather go to Azkaban than live with this shame!"
Gasps filled the hallway. Every pureblood knew how terrifying Azkaban was. Still, a few reluctant voices chimed in:
"Well… if you're really that serious… I guess I'll help you."
One by one, the Slytherins prepared to make their move.
But on Allen's face… there wasn't a trace of panic.
Villains always talk too much. With all the time they'd wasted monologuing, Allen could've easily escaped, or summoned a scarecrow puppet and wiped the floor with them. Not that he planned to go full murder mode… as annoying as these brats were.
So what would he do without going full-power?
Easy.
When you can't win a fight by yourself, what do you do?
Call for backup.
And right as John finished giving Allen his oh-so-dramatic ultimatum…
Valor arrived.
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