Though it was a bit disappointing not to see Ron Weasley's side of the duel, that small imperfection couldn't dampen the Gryffindors' excitement over their victory.
The moment Lee Jordan loudly announced the winners, the eager young lions rushed onto the stage, crowding around Harry Potter and the others at the center.
Their overwhelming enthusiasm made Harry momentarily set aside the many questions he had about his friend.
"Brilliant, Harry! And... well, you too, Ron."
"Great job, Harry! You two are the pride of our House!"
"That was amazing, Harry! I think I can get this all on camera—Ron, could you move over a bit?"
"This is our little brother Ron, Harry's best friend—and today, his best battle partner!"
The joyful atmosphere on stage stood in sharp contrast to the heavy silence on the Slytherin side.
If Draco hadn't still been standing there, most of the Slytherins would have already left. None of them wanted to stay and watch their rivals celebrate.
As the figurehead of Slytherin House, Draco withdrew his gaze from the arena and turned to Crabbe, who had just woken from the Stunning Spell, his eyes still unfocused. "How are you feeling?"
"It was a Stunning Spell, no mistake. If he's awake, he's fine now," Astoria said after checking Crabbe's condition, shaking her head as she gave Draco her assessment.
Nearby, Pansy narrowed her eyes, watching the group on stage with a pensive look.
"Boss lady..."
"Well done. The results of your special training are clear." Pansy cut Goyle off before he could finish.
The lack of the scolding he had expected made Goyle, head still bowed, grip his wand tightly.
Slytherins weren't the type to offer comfort—or to need it.
But it was clear that after hearing Pansy's words, both Goyle and Crabbe, who was now standing beside him, felt something stir within them for the first time—an ache of frustration and regret.
Frustration at their defeat. Regret at not being strong enough.
Maybe after this failure, Goyle and Crabbe would finally start to grow—and next time, they wouldn't fall behind Draco's pace...
...
The celebration around Harry Potter didn't last long—it was quickly cut short by Snape's dark, forbidding presence.
"Now, everyone return to your own houses. Or better yet, go somewhere out of my sight to continue your dull and ridiculous boasting. Ha... the great Potter."
"Professor, we were just—"
"Five points from Gryffindor. I don't need to hear your excuses, Potter."
"Harry."
Seeing Harry about to argue, Cedric Diggory quickly pulled him back. Though he too didn't understand Snape's hostility, he knew better than to argue with a professor.
Besides, Diggory hadn't forgotten that Professor Lupin was still nearby.
Sure enough, Lupin stepped forward right after Snape.
"I believe Harry deserves five points for his house for winning the duel. Don't you agree, Severus?"
"If you think that will give Potter a bit of confidence, I'd say the famous Harry Potter hardly needs any more. What he does need is the sense not to do reckless things."
The blunt insult—calling him a fool in all but words—made Harry's face flush red with anger. His green eyes glared fiercely at Snape, who oddly looked away.
Harry took it as a sign of guilt.
"Come on, Harry. We've got a huge celebration waiting for you—you'll love it," someone said.
"Hermione, what are you looking at? Hurry up!"
"Coming, Ginny."
With Snape's venom still hanging in the air, the young lions gathered around Harry, whose mood had been completely ruined, and led him away.
In seconds, the Great Hall—now turned into a dueling arena—was left with only the Slytherin students and their Head of House...
...
Once Harry's figure disappeared through the doors, Snape approached Draco and the others with silent, measured steps.
"I'm not here to comfort you," he said coldly. "In fact, I'm here to thank you. You've given me quite the amusing farce—one I'll be sure to share with Lupin later."
"..."
Snape's twisted half-smile and his strange, cutting sarcasm made Draco roll his eyes discreetly.
Under his chilling stare, none of the Slytherins dared to speak.
Then, suddenly, several potion bottles emitting a faint white glow appeared on the floor, followed by the soft rustle of Snape's departing robes...
"Phew... I thought I'd stopped breathing."
"Looks like Professor Snape's furious."
"Who would've thought it would end like this?"
Unlike the others, Astoria's gaze lingered on the potions. Her bright eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"This is Essence of Dittany. A healing potion. Judging by the color, it's top-grade. And by the timing, it was definitely brewed in advance for this duel."
Astoria again?
Draco looked over at the girl crouched beside the bottles, surprise flickering in his eyes.
Only those who'd seriously studied Potions understood how difficult the subject truly was—and identifying a potion's quality and brewing time just by sight wasn't something an ordinary student could do after only a few years.
As Draco pondered this, Pansy slammed her hand down hard on a nearby table.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"It's decided! We're getting revenge! Goyle, Crabbe—and you, Draco!"
"Yes!"
"Huh?"
Startled to hear his own name, Draco turned toward Pansy, who was practically radiating determination.
"And besides the special training—Draco, you're going to be the next president of the Duelling Club!"
"...."
"That way, we'll have an official organization here at Hogwarts."
Draco blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
Then, quietly, he thought to himself—an organization at Hogwarts, huh...
...
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