The ignominious defeat of the Slytherin Quidditch team became the preferred subject of ridicule across Hogwarts almost instantly. After dinner, students from all four Houses were eagerly sharing the story of the unfortunate substitute Keeper, Vicky Avery.
Even though Madam Pomfrey had used a quick counter-charm to mend his knocked-out tooth, Vicky's face now served as a permanent reminder of the match. Whenever anyone saw him, they inevitably heard the mocking whisper of the new Gryffindor catchphrase: "He knocked his tooth out by colliding with my elbow."
Albert was the master of plausible deniability. He knew the absurdity of the statement was precisely why it was so effective. Nobody actually believed a first-year's elbow could be that perfectly placed and lethal, but the claim itself was annoying enough to stick. The point wasn't truth; it was psychological warfare.
The animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin, fueled by the brutal game, reached a critical peak. Albert even saw a new entry pop up on his internal task panel, confirming he had achieved maximum disruption in the rivalry:
Achieve Maximum Slytherin Disdain
Status: Complete.
The corridors became minefields. Minor skirmishes and hexing incidents became a daily occurrence, much to the furious despair of Filch, the caretaker, whose small supply of reporting parchment was being rapidly depleted.
The tension culminated in a particularly nasty incident. A group of older Slytherins managed to corner Mark (the Gryffindor Chaser) in a deserted passageway. Just as the Slytherins drew their wands, a timely appearance by several Gryffindor students—who "just happened" to be passing—turned the ambush into a full-scale brawl.
The chaotic exchange of curses resulted in a Gryffindor student momentarily sprouting strange, iridescent scales on his face, while a Slytherin suffered the indignity of leeks aggressively sprouting from his nose.
Professor McGonagall was apoplectic. She hit both Houses with massive point deductions. The net result: Gryffindor plummeted back to the bottom of the House Cup standings, and Slytherin settled in just above them at second-to-last place.
Naturally, many Slytherins felt their deepest shame stemmed from being defeated by a Muggle-born freshman. Albert quickly became a frequent, if challenging, target for retribution.
However, opportunities to isolate Albert were vanishingly rare. He was almost always accompanied by his core group of three friends, or he was ensconced in the impregnable sanctuary of the Library. One persistent Slytherin spent an entire afternoon lying in wait outside the library entrance, only to give up in frustration when Albert failed to emerge before closing time.
When attempts were made, they often backfired spectacularly.
A second-year Slytherin, emboldened by dark thoughts, attempted to trip Albert in a crowded corridor. The result: Albert simply adjusted his step, and the would-be assailant's outstretched leg was trod upon by the heel of Albert's boot.
The boy cried out, clutching his throbbing foot. His friend, who had been laughing, received a sharp, calculated kick to the calf that sent him collapsing to the floor in genuine, tearful pain.
The worst part for the attackers was Albert's reaction. He would stop, gaze down at them with an expression of utterly harmless concern, and ask in a calm, measured voice: "Are you alright? Why is your leg sticking out like that?"
The implication was clear: I am innocent. You injured yourself through sheer stupidity. It was an infuriatingly irrefutable defense. You cannot argue that you were trying to foul someone when you are the one lying on the floor.
The attempts grew more desperate. Not long after, a third-year Slytherin thought he'd finally caught Albert alone, shadowing him into the boys' bathroom. However, seconds after entering, the Slytherin was discovered by a passing student, having apparently slipped on a puddle, fallen hard, and promptly fainted.
But the most humiliating incident of all was yet to come.
George Weasley, humming a cheerful tune, was strolling alone down the second-floor corridor, not far from the abandoned girls' bathroom. He appeared oblivious to the silent, stealthy figure stalking him—a fifth-year Slytherin senior, his face set in a grim mask of intent, his wand already slipping from his robes.
As the Slytherin raised his wand, ready to deploy a curse, George suddenly spun around. He didn't look scared; he looked completely at ease, offering the senior a wide, knowing smile.
Before the unlucky Slytherin could process this unsettling sight, a near-silent **thwump **sound erupted directly behind him. He registered the final, fleeting thought—fainted to the ground—just before the Stunning Spell connected, knocking him instantly unconscious. He crumpled heavily onto the cold, wet stone floor.
George walked forward and prodded the still form with the toe of his boot, grinning savagely. "Another one down. You didn't expect the backup, did you?"
"Less commentary, more moving," came a low, disembodied voice from nearby. It was Fred, having just emerged from behind a tapestry where he had been concealed by the Disillusionment Charm. "Into the girls' room with him. Time to provide the student body with some highly creative gossip."
Minutes later, a group of curious Hufflepuff girls passed the entrance to the abandoned girls' bathroom. They froze. Half-in and half-out of the doorway lay a boy, a Slytherin student, his robes rumpled.
A truly unsettling sight was the second figure: another Slytherin, who was positioned near the door but mostly concealed, his robes pulled up and covering his head, seemingly trying to dig his way out with frantic, crawling movements.
Filch, drawn by the girls' shrieks, hurried to the scene. He saw the soaked corridor floor and the spectacle in the doorway, and his facial muscles twitched in fury. Another self-inflicted injury? And worse, what was a boy doing in that notorious girls' restroom, and why was he trying to crawl out in such a state of panic?
The girls, whose imaginations were already running wild, immediately fabricated multiple dramatic and scandalous scenarios. By the time Filch managed to summon two prefects to assist in hauling the thoroughly humiliated, dripping senior to the Hospital Wing, the rumors were already circulating wildly.
The Albert quartet, who "happened" to be walking by and witnessed the entire recovery effort, had to lean against the wall, their ribs aching from the struggle to contain their laughter.
Later, when they were safely back in the Common Room, Fred enthusiastically outlined future plans. "Next time someone decides to target us, we won't stop at the floor. We'll—" He made a vigorous plunging motion. "—head first into the nearest commode!"
"Let's not go quite that far into the plumbing," Albert suggested, still chuckling. "However, a perfectly executed Stunning Charm, followed by stuffing them into the nearest locked stall in the girls' restroom, would be highly effective. The rumors alone will be punishment enough."
"A beautiful idea," George blinked. "I'm genuinely looking forward to the next ambush."
Lee Jordan, who was listening in, pointed out their strategic advantage. "They'll definitely be watching out now. They know the corridors are dangerous."
"Of course, they will," Albert agreed. "But they have fundamentally misjudged their enemy. They can't possibly suspect that a first-year, and a Muggle-born at that, has already mastered the Disillusionment Charm."
Indeed, the Slytherin students, caught completely off-guard by the silent attacks from behind, never suspected the seemingly harmless freshman. To them, the Stunning Spells were too advanced for first-years. The blame, naturally, fell back on the senior Gryffindors like Mark, who already had a well-established reputation for mayhem.
The quartet's tactics had transformed the pursuit into a game of fear. The hunters were now the hunted, and the Slytherin students could no longer walk the corridors without looking over their shoulders.
Albert's ability to master advanced, non-verbal magic, like the Disillusionment Charm and the Stunning Spell, combined with the strategic brilliance of his friends, ensured that any attempt at revenge quickly became a source of lasting humiliation.
With the intense rivalry now boiling over, and both Houses suffering substantial point deductions, do you think Professor McGonagall will try to enforce a ceasefire, or will Dumbledore intervene?