By dinner, Hogwarts had reached terminal rumor velocity.
The Great Hall was practically buzzing as I walked in with the rest of the Gryffindors. Dishes shimmered with food, enchanted banners fluttered lazily overhead, and the general atmosphere felt like someone had spiked the pumpkin juice with raw speculation.
Ron launched into another retelling of their night beneath the trapdoor, holding court over a growing circle of first- and second-years who hung on his every word. I lingered nearby, mostly for entertainment.
"—and then the chessboard came alive," Ron said dramatically, waving his fork like a wand. "Real pieces, right? I had to sacrifice myself! Brave, strategic, terrifying—Hermione was crying, I think."
"I was not crying," Hermione muttered from across the table, not even looking up from her roll.
Ron ignored her. "And Harry, he went on alone. Faced down the final room all by himself. Like a true hero!"
"Wow," someone gasped. "What was in the final room?"
Ron hesitated, his mouth already full of potato.
"Er... more chess," he said at last. "Complicated chess."
Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands.
I plucked a grape from a nearby bowl. "It's true," I said solemnly. "The final challenge was a deeply emotional match of wizard checkers. Full contact."
"You're not helping," Hermione muttered.
"I know."
The Hall dimmed slightly.
Dumbledore had risen.
He smiled that infuriating, all-knowing smile. "Another year gone. And now, as I understand it, the House Cup needs awarding. And the points stand thus:"
He gestured toward the tall hourglasses near the walls, where glittering jewels tallied each house's scores.
"In fourth place, Hufflepuff with 352 points."
There was a medium applause from the crowd.
"Third place, Ravenclaw with 426 points."
The applause for Ravenclaw was slightly louder than the clapping for Hufflepuff.
"In second place, Gryffindor with 462 points."
Applause again, this time with a slight cheer from some students.
"And in first place, with 472 points, Slytherin House."
A loud roar rose from the Slytherin table, as students stood up and clapped for themselves. Hermione scowled with her hand to her cheek; Snape applauded the students of his house.
Dumbledore raised a hand. The noise faded.
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. Well done, Slytherin," he said, nodding courteously toward the green-and-silver table. "However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award."
Some faces at the Gryffindor table rose hopefully.
"First," Dumbledore continued, "let us recognize exceptional students who have shown bravery, intelligence, and determination beyond their years."
He turned toward the Gryffindor table.
"To Mr. Ronald Weasley," he said, "for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, 3 points."
Ron went rigid. Then turned so red he matched the tablecloth.
"To Miss Hermione Granger," Dumbledore said, smiling warmly, "for the cool use of intellect while others were in grave peril: 3 points."
Hermione blinked rapidly, stunned.
"And to Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore continued, his gaze gentling, "for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 4 points.."
The Hall exploded into applause.
Slytherins looked personally betrayed.
Hermione leaned over and whispered, "We're tied with Slytherin now."
Her tone was a mix of hope and calculation—like someone mentally counting cards in a wizard duel. I raised an eyebrow, and she mouthed, "1 points. We just need 1 more."
"And finally," Dumbledore said, raising one hand for quiet, "to Sky Kingston—for creativity, and unwavering loyalty to his own principles, even when the path was unclear: 1 point."
Dumbledore's gaze flickered upward, his fingers lightly drumming against the table. "Assuming that my calculations are correct," he said, voice rich with amusement and finality, "I believe that a change of decoration is in order."
He clapped once, sharply, then made an elegant motion with both hands towards the ceiling.
The Slytherin banners, which had loomed smugly overhead all feast, flapped violently as if caught in a sudden storm. A shimmer passed through them—green melting into crimson, silver evaporating into gold. Within seconds, the entire Great Hall was draped in Gryffindor's proud red and gold, the lion crest roaring from every corner.
"Gryffindor wins the House Cup."
The silence that had barely been holding together shattered into a thousand cheers.
Gryffindors screamed and whooped, leaping to their feet. A few stood on benches and waved napkins like victory flags. But the applause wasn't limited to their house—Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs clapped along, some even laughing in shared relief. For the first time in seven years, Slytherin's streak was broken. The monopoly was over. A new house stood triumphant.
And across the room, Sky Kingston leaned back, his expression unreadable.
But there was the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
This is too rigged.