[Congratulations to Draco Malfoy of Slytherin for the final blow, successfully killing Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor!]
[Congratulations to Draco Malfoy of Slytherin for the final blow, successfully killing Hermione Granger of Gryffindor!]
[Congratulations to Draco Malfoy of Slytherin for the final blow, successfully killing Parvati Patil of Gryffindor!]
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[Congratulations to Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin for the final blow, successfully killing Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor!]
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[Congratulations to Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin for the final blow, successfully killing Hermione Granger of Gryffindor!]
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[Congratulations to Theodore Nott of Slytherin for the final blow, successfully killing Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor!]
[Match Result: Neither captain was killed. Kill score: 10:2. Slytherin wins the final victory. 20 points awarded to Slytherin, 10 points deducted from Gryffindor!]
"I can't believe it, Weasley. It's been a month, and you still haven't mastered the Trip Jinx!"
In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom—the Mist Valley arena—as soon as the match ended, space rippled, and all contestants were instantly returned to the octagon cage.
Hermione Granger immediately started shouting. She stormed furiously up to Harry and Ron, who looked gloomy.
"And you, Potter! You were too obsessed with dueling Malfoy one-on-one. Three of the five times Neville was killed, he was right near you, but you didn't even try to help him!"
Neville, ashamed to the point of tears, was the first to lower his head. Harry, having been criticized so harshly, looked even darker, but Ron wasn't willing to let Granger get away with it. He retorted sarcastically,
"What about you, Granger? What good were you... Nott and Zabini just made a face at you, and you were screaming your head off!"
"Need us to go easy on you next time, Potter?"
Draco Malfoy, who had been laughing so hard his stomach hurt while watching the drama from the sidelines, asked with fake concern. He glanced mockingly at Neville and Hermione.
"Ah, of course, I have to admit you do fly a little better than my house-elf... it's just that you have a bit too much dead weight dragging you down—"
The young wizards from the two houses, faces flushed red, started arguing noisily right there in the octagon cage. The classroom atmosphere was incredibly lively!
Ares didn't stop them from venting their emotions.
After all, smashing broomsticks, cursing teammates, and blaming "bad luck" after losing a game... in his class, from first years to seventh years, it was all the same!
Tucking the notebook Snape had given him—which had proven very useful—under his arm, he was the first to walk out of the classroom.
September at Hogwarts was still late summer, but as time marched into October, the climate here rapidly shifted toward winter.
A damp chill permeated the grounds and seeped into the castle. Many staff and students had caught colds, keeping the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, extremely busy. Of course, Madam Pomfrey's Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though those who drank it would have smoke pouring out of their ears for several hours afterward.
As Ares walked toward his office, seven out of ten children he passed had steam billowing from their ears, looking like the runaway steam train from the start of term.
Arriving on the third floor and stepping into the corridor, Ares stood for a while in the drafty hallway, gazing out the window.
Although the weather was no longer comfortable, the patch of sky above the ancient castle remained clear and blue.
The only downside was the dark mountain range behind Hogsmeade village, spread out across the land, blocking Ares's view of the horizon... just as his body was trapped here now.
Hogwarts was nice...
But the world outside was always vast!
He couldn't spend his whole life... well, it wouldn't be a whole life, Dumbledore didn't have many years left...
But surely he wouldn't have to wait until Dumbledore kicked the bucket to leave Hogwarts?
At this thought, Ares's mood darkened further!
Just because he wanted to earn those few thousand Galleons from Quirrell... he slept on straw in Azkaban for half a month, and now, he was 'imprisoned' in Hogwarts, sentenced to 'life'.
Dumbledore seemed determined to keep him under his nose... If he wanted to leave, unless—
Sigh—
Emotional fluctuations could easily lead to magical instability. His body, which had been fine for a month, throbbed faintly with pain and heat again. Ares withdrew his gaze, took a flask of homemade potion from his pocket, and took a sip.
There were no classes on Thursday morning except for the first years.
Ares trudged on toward his office, ready to 'hibernate'.
However—
"Professor Snape?"
Looking at the greasy-haired middle-aged wizard standing in front of his office door, causing passing students to give him a wide berth, Ares raised an eyebrow.
"What wind blows you here?"
"I'm here to pass a message for Dumbledore."
Severus's empty gaze fell on Ares, his tone lazy.
"Our esteemed Minister for Magic might visit you before lunch, Professor Delfino. Headmaster Dumbledore asks you to make some preparations—"
Scanning Ares's loose, casual clothes, the corner of Severus's mouth twitched.
"Presumably, putting on something decent... After all, the Minister's main purpose for this trip is to award you a medal."
"Award a medal?"
Ares blinked, momentarily not catching on.
"Order of Merlin, First Class, Professor Delfino."
Severus looked at Ares with a lazy, scrutinizing gaze.
"Headmaster Dumbledore said—Minister Fudge already sent you a letter in advance, informing you that your application for the Order of Merlin has been approved by the Wizengamot... The Minister also asked in the letter if you needed a ceremony at the Ministry."
"Oh!"
Ares realized.
"That letter... hmm, I probably stored it in the fireplace... well, it's gone now."
The corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably, Severus continued to inquire.
"Headmaster Dumbledore also asked me to consult you. If you wish, he can organize a small celebration ceremony, with only staff attending... Of course, forgive my rudeness, Professor Delfino, but I might not be free to attend..."
"Celebration ceremony?"
Ares raised an eyebrow again, looking somewhat disinterested as his brow lowered.
"That would be too much trouble, taking up everyone's private time... Could you ask Professor Dumbledore if he could just cash it out for me... forget the ceremony—"
Severus turned and walked away, completely ignoring Ares's request.
However, after a few steps, he suddenly stopped.
Turning around, Severus spoke in a casual tone.
"One more thing, Professor Delfino, I almost forgot—for tonight's patrol, we need to swap floors."
"Hmm? Why? Don't you live in the dungeons, Professor Snape? It should be more convenient from the first to the fourth floor... Do you like climbing stairs?"
"We swap once a month. Those are the rules."
Forcing down the vein throbbing on his forehead, Snape dropped the cold sentence and left.
...