When Ciel blurted out "House Cup"—Professor Sprout nodded excitedly, her face rarely showing such a rosy flush.
"Yes! The House Cup!"
No wonder Professor Sprout was so excited. Hufflepuff hadn't won the House Cup honour for too many years—but Professor Sprout had no good solutions.
After all, little badgers typically were late bloomers—with many only showing their excellence from the fifth year onwards. But by then, just dealing with exams and planning further studies or careers consumed all their energy.
Who had time for House Cup competition? Lower-year students were mostly still confused and simply couldn't compete with other houses. In previous years, by mid-semester, Hufflepuff had already lost hope for the House Cup.
But this year was an exception. Due to Ciel's presence, Hufflepuff's first-year students had improved overall—and even now, Hufflepuff's score remained far ahead.
This year was Hufflepuff's most promising in ages. With years of wishes about to be fulfilled tonight—no wonder Professor Sprout was so excited.
Ciel felt a slight stir, recalling what would happen tonight in the original story. Originally, Slytherin had been far ahead with Gryffindor at the bottom—then Dumbledore awarded Harry's trio a full 160 points with a grand gesture, directly evening the scores.
Then he gave Neville another ten points—forcibly moving Gryffindor from last place to first for the House Cup. Snape had looked like he'd swallowed a fly.
Tonight, surely this treatment wouldn't fall on Hufflepuff? Pondering this possibility, Ciel shook his head mentally.
No use overthinking—better to go see. Hopefully Dumbledore wouldn't be so shameless.
If such a huge gap could still be overcome... well, that would truly be throwing away all dignity. Not only would Hufflepuff be displeased, but the other house heads wouldn't be easily appeased either.
Thinking this, Ciel steeled himself and temporarily suspended his planting work—following Professor Sprout toward the Great Hall.
The Great Hall was nearly at full capacity. Though students had experienced heart-stopping events three days ago, under Memory Charms' effects plus the captivating House Cup decision, everyone had forgotten previous fears.
All hearts held only longing and anticipation for the House Cup.
When Ciel entered the Great Hall, everyone couldn't help staring at him. The Great Hall became silent as death in that moment.
First-year students didn't understand why they felt such instinctive reverence for Ciel. In their memories, he seemed to have done something very great—saving them all. What was it again?
Many young wizards frowned, trying to remember—especially Susan and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table, the two girls who'd nearly been eaten by Quintapeds. They could almost recall that terrifying scene.
Professors at the staff table looked slightly tense now. None were versed in Memory Charms—even Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms, considered Memory Charms among his weakest spells.
After all, almost everyone hoped for perfect memory. Except for those with strong, painful, tragic experiences—few hoped to excel at forgetting. And magic was intimately connected to each person's will.
Without wanting to forget, Memory Charms naturally couldn't display great power—even with Professor Flitwick's magical mastery, modifying so many students' memories in such a short time was extremely difficult.
Especially such vivid memories that might return with slight strong stimulation. Now Professor Flitwick maintained vigilance—ready to cast spells, while sighing inwardly:
"I wonder if the Gilderoy Lockhart I recommended will accept Dumbledore's invitation. I remember he showed jaw-dropping talent with Memory Charms back then—but now he's a famous novelist who's accomplished many remarkable things. Hope he'll come."
Fortunately, as Dumbledore appeared, students' thoughts were interrupted—attention returning to the upcoming House Cup announcement. This let professors finally breathe easier.
Dumbledore also forced a smile—abandoning his prepared script to quickly finish the usual formalities. Soon he cut to the point:
"Now, as we know, we must first conduct the House Cup awards ceremony."
With his announcement—everyone held their breath again. Ciel saw nearby little badgers so nervous they nearly closed their eyes.
Hannah chanted under her breath like a protective charm: "No surprises, please no surprises. No more surprises."
Then Dumbledore announced each house's total scores:
"Fourth place—Gryffindor, 332 points."
"Third place—Slytherin, 367 points."
"Second place—Ravenclaw, 455 points."
Ciel raised an eyebrow. These scores were generally higher than he remembered—apparently his arrival had indirectly caused this year's students to perform much better than in the original.
Then Dumbledore paused before announcing a score that surprised even the staff table:
"First place—Hufflepuff, 532 points!"
This score caused commotion in the Great Hall. Nearly 100 points ahead of second place? A full 200 ahead of last place!
Students who'd attended several years had never seen such a spectacle. Nobody present had seen scores breaking 500—even professors who'd been at Hogwarts many years had witnessed such House Cup scores only a few times.
Little badgers clenched their fists, faces flushed—cheers nearly reaching their throats. But then Dumbledore's words made them tense again:
"Yes, yes. Very good performance, Hufflepuff. However, recent events must also be calculated."
At Gryffindor's table, Harry's trio exchanged glances—suddenly showing excitement and hope. Indeed, this was related to what they'd done!
Dumbledore began his measured announcements:
"First, Mr Ron Weasley." Ron's face turned redder than his increasingly crimson hair.
"He won the most spectacular chess game Hogwarts has seen in many years. Perhaps he also contributed an extremely rare Transfiguration performance for a first-year student—for this, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."
Ciel frowned. If he remembered correctly, originally Dumbledore had given Ron fifty points—not sixty. Don't tell me he's really going to do it again?
At the staff table, several house heads looked at Dumbledore with confusion—including beneficiary Professor McGonagall, whose face was redder than Ron's.
But Dumbledore's lips curved in an inscrutable smile as he continued:
"Second, Miss Hermione Granger. She faced fire with cool logical reasoning. Throughout, facing numerous difficulties, she showed excellent knowledge and ability—for this, I award Gryffindor House another sixty points."
Now Great Hall commotion intensified. Little lions were ecstatic, while little badgers clenched fists, faces showing they'd thought of something terrible, nearly crying.
They seemed to pray this point-giving wouldn't continue. After all, with these 120 points, Gryffindor had jumped to second place—only 80 points behind Hufflepuff. One more round might determine the House Cup?
But things often went against wishes. As little badgers prayed for no more accidents—their hearts sank hearing Dumbledore's next announcement:
"Third, Harry Potter. He showed great courage and outstanding bravery. And sharing, especially in dangerous moments—sharing treasures that could protect himself with others—is an especially precious quality. For this, I award Gryffindor House eighty points."
Now Gryffindor's score is officially tied with Hufflepuff's. At the staff table, Professor McGonagall wanted to find a hole to hide in—her face burning like fire. She stared at Dumbledore in disbelief.
Other house heads showed indignant expressions—even Snape, destined to lose the seven-year consecutive House Cup, showed mocking smiles.
Was Dumbledore really not giving up? But just then, Dumbledore made a face at them—as if indicating it was just a joke.
He immediately raised his hand—seemingly about to announce something important:
"Courage comes in many forms. Daring to venture alone is certainly one kind of courage. Fighting enemies requires superhuman boldness—but courage shown to protect friends is even more precious."
"Mr Ciel Sprout, in the Forbidden Forest trial, facing out-of-control trolls—he stepped forward, drawing away the trolls' attention and protecting everyone. Therefore, I now award Mr Ciel Sprout 120 points."
Hearing this, Professor McGonagall sighed with relief. For seven years—she'd dreamed of bringing the House Cup back to Gryffindor.
But this year, if Dumbledore truly dared operate this way, giving Gryffindor the House Cup—she'd truly be ashamed. That would really mean being unable to hold her head up!
Other house heads now understood—this old man's mischievous streak was acting up again?
But then the ghostly History of Magic Professor Binns unusually spoke up—as if remembering something, his voice rarely showing fluctuation:
"So Hufflepuff House's score has reached 652 points? I believe that ranks in the top ten in over a thousand years of history. For the all-time record, let me think... I remember it was Clier Law, who led that year's Ravenclaw to 777 points—no house has approached this record for centuries."
Hearing Professor Binns' words, the entire Great Hall suddenly quieted. Professors and students now stared fixedly at Dumbledore—at those glittering numbers he'd arranged in the air.
The first historical House Cup score Professor Binns announced made them feel dizzy listening. 777 points? This year's Slytherin score wasn't even half that! How was this achieved?
More importantly, Hufflepuff was now approaching it? Could it be...
Then Dumbledore's smile brightened:
"Not only that—overcoming one's fears, stepping forward when facing danger, unity. These are equally the most precious qualities Hogwarts hopes to teach you."
"Miss Hannah Abbott, Miss Susan Bones, in danger—you overcame fear to complete spellcasting, beautiful magic! And the rest of Hufflepuff's first-years—you bravely drew wands, facing fear to protect friends."
"This Defence Against the Dark Arts exam should rank Hufflepuff House first. This alone should bring you 100 points—plus my additional reward. Hufflepuff House gains a total of 150 points!"
The Great Hall fell into deathly silence. Everyone mentally did addition and subtraction—with these 150 points added, what was Hufflepuff's total?
After dozens of seconds, Hermione double and triple-checked this simple math before announcing the answer everyone wanted to know in a trembling voice:
"802 points!"
Instantly, the Great Hall seemed ready to explode. All the little badgers hearing this score erupted in avalanche-like cheers:
"802 points?"
"That's higher than 777, right?"
"So that means we're first?"
"Thousand-year House Cup history record!"
"We're champions!!!"
Then almost all the little badgers simultaneously reached toward Ciel—lifting him up and tossing him high into the air.
At the staff table, all four house heads stood—applauding Ciel. Even usually gloomy Snape showed more comfort for Ciel than annoyance at losing the House Cup.
As for Professor Sprout—no need to mention her joy. Applauding while nearly fainting from excitement, tears streaming as she seemed to see scenes from her school days, waiting with her brother for House Cup results in the Great Hall.
"Your child, do you see? He's made history—he'll definitely become a remarkable wizard, I swear!"
Now students from the other three houses also stood—offering applause. Ciel, rising and falling in the air, met Dumbledore's gaze. Dumbledore winked at him.
Ciel felt helpless—this old man certainly knew how to build suspense. But at least he had principles.
Looking at the House Cup falling toward Hufflepuff, then at Professor Sprout's excited, joyful face at the staff table—Ciel also smiled.
But soon, that very night, Ciel couldn't smile anymore. Because tonight, to celebrate the House Cup and Hufflepuff's new history, the entire house held an unprecedented celebration.
Even first-years who theoretically shouldn't drink were gulping butterbeer. Professor Sprout not only didn't stop them but "led by example"—producing her treasured fruit wines brewed from various herbs and fruits.
The entire Hufflepuff house, including herself, was knocked out. Only Ciel, with his powerful constitution, remained unaffected and conscious.
Looking at little badgers passed out everywhere, Ciel felt completely helpless. Waving his wand, he pushed tables and chairs together in the common room—placing them on top.
By the time he finished, it was well past midnight. All of Hogwarts was completely silent.
Only then did Ciel exhale, stepping out of the common room toward his greenhouse. Recalling today's joyful atmosphere—his face showed warmth.
But he knew that soon, perhaps, this happy atmosphere would be gone forever. Basilisk, Dementors, Death Eaters—Hogwarts wasn't peaceful.
Moreover, this Philosopher's Stone plot already differed greatly from the original's details. Ciel couldn't be certain whether the next few years' plots would see such huge changes.
He could only control himself—hopefully he could preserve Hufflepuff and Professor Sprout's joy a little longer.
Then Ciel entered his greenhouse—continuing work interrupted earlier. But not long after, unexpected knocking came at the greenhouse door.
Ciel frowned, instinctively gripping his wand tighter. But he heard a familiar voice outside—Dumbledore:
"Ciel, still working so late? You really don't give yourself any time to relax. May I come in and look? Oh, and my friend—he hasn't visited Hogwarts for quite some time. Probably several hundred years?"
Just then, another voice reached Ciel's ears:
"Hello, young Mr Sprout. I'm truly delighted to see Hufflepuff's greenhouse has welcomed such an excellent new master. Oh right, my memory—living in seclusion too long, I've even forgotten social etiquette. You may call me Nicolas Flamel."