Chapter 153: Wild Swings in the Points, Ravenclaw!
In the Great Hall, Dumbledore was giving his end‑of‑year address.
"Another splendid year," he said. "To close it out, let us witness the awarding of the House Cup together. The scores are as follows."
"Fourth place, Gryffindor, with 255 points.
"Third place, Hufflepuff, with 358 points.
"Second place, Ravenclaw, with 410 points.
"First place, Slytherin, with 415 points."
At his announcement, the Slytherin table erupted into thunderous applause and cheers.
The snakes pounded the table and raised their goblets high, celebrating the victory, celebrating their seventh consecutive House Cup.
It had been close this time. Ravenclaw was only five points behind. A point here for one student, a point there for another, and the gap could have vanished.
But Slytherin had retained their crown.
"Slytherin has done very well," Dumbledore said.
Then he went on, "However, a few recent events must also be taken into account."
The cheers at the Slytherin table faltered. A bad feeling crept up on them.
"I am sure you have all heard about what happened a few days ago," Dumbledore continued. "Certain students showed remarkable bravery and intelligence.
"So there are still a few points to award. Let me see…"
Nervousness flickered in Slytherin eyes. In other Houses, a handful of sharper students seemed to realise what was coming and turned their gaze, very quietly, toward the Gryffindor table.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"First, Mr Ronald Weasley…"
"He played one of the finest games of Wizard's Chess Hogwarts has seen in many years. For that, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
Ron's face went as red as his hair—redder, in fact. He looked like a carrot.
Gryffindor exploded. The roar of their cheers almost blew the roof off.
"Ron's my brother. My youngest brother. He beat Professor McGonagall's chessboard!" Percy was telling the other prefects loudly, chest swelling with pride.
When the noise had died down a little, Dumbledore spoke again.
"Second, Miss Hermione Granger…"
"In the face of Fiendfyre, she kept her head and solved a logical puzzle. For that, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
Hermione buried her face in her arms, clearly not used to such public praise.
The lions, on the other hand, were delighted. One or two looked ready to jump onto the table and put on a spontaneous performance with their wands.
That was a full hundred points already.
"Third…" Dumbledore said. "Harry Potter!
"He showed outstanding courage and daring. For that, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."
The din that followed was deafening.
A hundred and sixty points in total.
"We are level!"
Someone at the Gryffindor table shouted it, and the rest caught on at once.
Two hundred and fifty‑five plus a hundred and sixty. They were tied with Slytherin for first.
Just one point.
Even a single point would be enough.
That was what every Gryffindor was thinking. One more point and the Cup would be theirs.
Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.
Many Slytherin faces had gone dark. A year's work, every bit of lead they had built up, erased.
But these were the Headmaster's points. Dumbledore's decision. No snake dared challenge it.
They simply could not stomach losing to a pack of hot‑headed lions.
If it had been Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff…
"There are many kinds of courage," Dumbledore said. "We need bravery to face our enemies. But to stand up to our friends takes a different kind of nerve.
"For that reason, I award Mr Neville Longbottom ten points."
Gryffindor's cheering reached its peak.
Neville clutched his goblet, stunned. Before he could react, he was swarmed by his housemates. Praise and congratulations rained down, leaving him completely flustered.
Harry cheered for Neville too, but his reaction was less wild than the others'. His gaze wandered to the Ravenclaw table, where he spotted Leonardo smiling and clapping quietly.
Then Harry looked back up at the staff table. He had a feeling things were not quite finished. Dumbledore caught his eye and smiled.
"Lastly…" Dumbledore said, drawing the word out just long enough to tighten every nerve in the hall.
Not over yet?
"A young wizard used wit and magic to hold his own against a Dark wizard," he said. "He guarded a treasure of this school and helped his friends to grow. For his extraordinary achievement, I award him one hundred points."
Silence crashed down over the Hall.
One hundred points. Whoever received them would decide the House Cup, no matter which House they belonged to.
Dumbledore turned to the Ravenclaw table, eyes full of pride.
"I would like to congratulate Leonardo Grafton, and award Ravenclaw one hundred points."
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The first applause came from the Gryffindor table. It belonged to Harry.
His happiness was genuine. He had been there. He knew better than anyone how astonishing Leonardo's performance had been that night. As Leonardo's first extra‑lesson student, he knew exactly how much help he had received.
Applause spread along the staff table as well.
Every teacher who had taught Leonardo knew his talent and his effort. They had seen surprise after surprise from him all year.
Even Snape, usually cold as ice, allowed himself a rare smile with a glint of approval. For a student that gifted and yet still humble, he could not help regretting that Leonardo was not in Slytherin.
If Leonardo had been Sorted into Slytherin, Snape could have piled on points for his House with a clear conscience. No one would dare accuse him of favouritism. Forget six straight Cups. For as long as Leonardo was at school, the House Cup might well have belonged to Slytherin every year.
No one, however, was more delighted than Professor Flitwick. His little hands clapped so hard they cracked, and he did not even stop to wipe away the tears at the corners of his eyes.
It was rare for Ravenclaw to win the House Cup. They lagged badly in Quidditch, which was a major source of points. They also had the smallest numbers of any House, which meant fewer chances to earn points day to day.
Fortunately, Ravenclaws also caused the least trouble. They lost fewer points as well. They usually floated in second or third place.
This year, with Leonardo, Ravenclaw's score had climbed steadily all year. Now they had surged to first.
"Filius," McGonagall said, lifting her goblet, "as I said at the start of term, congratulations. Ravenclaw has gained a very fine student."
Flitwick hastily clinked his goblet against hers. "Thank you, Minerva. Ravenclaw is very lucky to have Leonardo."