Snape eyed the bread warily, lifting it to his nose for a careful sniff. "This isn't ordinary bread… There's a trace of soul lingering in it…"
"No potion as a conduit, and yet it carries the soul… Has he really grasped it? In his first year?"
"Yes! Isn't it remarkable?" Dumbledore sighed in admiration. "And it's so pure—more an expression of feeling than any kind of direct soul manipulation."
"That means we can truly… experience something beautiful from it, without worrying about any hidden dangers."
He glanced once more at the Mirror of Erised, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "He… will undoubtedly become a truly exceptional wizard."
Snape nodded, still making a point to avoid looking directly at the Mirror of Erised.
Before leaving the headmaster's office, he left behind a single sentence. "Not possessed, then. Good."
"Yes, everything is just as it should be!"
…
Out in the corridor, Snape studied the bread in his hand, brow furrowed in contemplation, before finally biting into it with resolve.
The bread had lost its warmth, but the crust was still crisp, the inside soft and yielding.
It was a delight both for the soul and the senses.
Almost instantly, Snape's eyes reddened.
He rubbed at them repeatedly, until they were bloodshot and his eyelids swollen, before finally stopping.
Staring at the bread, a single bite missing, he murmured, "It's true… The Dark Lord still can't touch him."
As the final feast of the school year, the End-of-Term Banquet was as lively as ever.
The Great Hall buzzed with students, their voices blending into a cheerful cacophony as they shared summer plans in excited whispers.
Perhaps the only ones who felt a pang of sadness were the ghosts—once the students left, Hogwarts would fall silent and still.
With no one left to tease, the ghosts all wore a faint air of melancholy.
For most students, aside from discussing holiday plans, there was one thing that mattered above all at the End-of-Term Banquet—the announcement of the House Cup.
It wasn't just the students who cared; the four Heads of House were equally invested. After all, it was a mark of honor.
The hall's banners and metalwork had all been changed to blue and bronze—the colors of Ravenclaw.
And behind the staff table hung a massive banner, emblazoned with a majestic eagle.
This year, Ravenclaw had finally spread its wings. After seizing the Quidditch Cup, their hourglass for the House Cup was far in the lead.
Professor Flitwick was practically beaming, having purchased a mountain of sweets from Honeydukes.
Before the banquet truly began, he cast a spell skyward, sending a cascade of sweets swirling through the air.
As students took their seats, the candies drifted down, floating gently in front of each of them.
He even allowed himself a touch of favoritism—Ravenclaw's selection of sweets was noticeably more lavish than the other houses'.
Most students, of course, were delighted, tearing open wrappers and savoring the treats at once.
Only the Slytherins looked less than pleased. After all, they'd held the House Cup for six years running, along with several Quidditch Cup victories.
But this year, their streak had ended. The new double crown belonged to Ravenclaw.
Harry, just returned from the hospital wing, was visibly downcast, and his gloom seemed to spread to Hermione, Ron, and Neville as well.
The four of them had cost Gryffindor two hundred points after their nighttime escapade.
That loss had all but sealed Gryffindor's fate at the bottom of the standings, turning them into "Gryffin-few."
Because of it, Harry had become a magnet for whispers and pointed fingers wherever he went.
It wasn't until the dark wizard invasion at term's end that the storm over the lost points finally passed.
When Dumbledore entered the Great Hall, the noise quickly ebbed away as every student turned expectantly to the podium.
Wyzett was no exception, though his attention was mainly on Dumbledore's expression.
Seeing the headmaster's rosy cheeks and lively demeanor, he finally relaxed.
Dumbledore looked every bit the holidaymaker, clad in loose, warm orange robes and a matching floppy hat—he looked like a cozy hearth come to life.
Sensing Wyzett's gaze, Dumbledore glanced over and offered a small, reassuring nod.
With a bright smile, Dumbledore addressed the hall, as buoyant as any student. "An unforgettable year has come to a close! I'm delighted we can all gather here, to raise a glass and celebrate together."
"But before we enjoy this magnificent feast, we must harvest the fruits of honor and award the House Cup. Let's see how the scores stand…"
"Fourth place: Gryffindor, 278 points. Third: Hufflepuff, 376 points. Second: Slytherin, 435 points. First: Ravenclaw! With 573 points!"
Ravenclaw erupted in thunderous applause, joined by Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, who were only too happy to see Slytherin's seven-year streak come to an end.
"Please, allow me a few more words!" Dumbledore called, raising his voice with a twinkle in his eye. "You're all aware, I'm sure, of the recent dark wizard incident?"
"A handful of exceptional students, through their courage and skill, saved Hogwarts from disaster. So, I have a few extra points to award…"
Snape narrowed his eyes, folding his arms and leaning back—his face the very picture of suspicion.
But Dumbledore, with his back to Snape, was oblivious, and continued in ringing tones, "First, Mr. Ronald Weasley!"
"He showed true self-sacrifice, winning a brilliant game of Wizard's Chess. For that, fifty points to Gryffindor!"
"Miss Hermione Granger! In the face of danger, she kept her cool and solved a difficult puzzle—another fifty points!"
"Mr. Harry Potter! He confronted a dangerous dark wizard with remarkable bravery—sixty points to Gryffindor!"
"Mr. Neville Longbottom! For standing up to his friends and showing rare courage—ten more points!"
The Gryffindor table exploded in jubilation. Though they hadn't won the Cup, the bonus points catapulted them from last place to second.
They cheered wildly, grabbing Harry and the others, their joy even greater than if they'd taken the Cup itself.
Harry and his friends were swept up in the excitement, surrounded by congratulatory hugs.
"And finally!" Dumbledore cast a proud glance at Harry, then turned to the applauding Wyzett, his voice ringing clear, "Mr. Wyzett Lovegood!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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