Chapter 335: The Year‑End Feast
The first‑year Quidditch matches were lively enough, but truth be told, they were little more than fledglings pecking at one another.
Coming down from the stands after Phoenix House had faced Basilisk House, Kael Black mused that in a few years, when the school had more students, the level of play would likely become far more watchable.
Still, there were standouts—especially among the elven children, who, by virtue of their superior natural agility and strength, shone brightly on the pitch.
As a result, each house put its elven player at Seeker, hoping they would be the first to seize the Golden Snitch—now worth 50 points—and open up a decisive gap.
But when every house's Seeker was an elf, catching the Snitch became no easy task.
Phoenix House's Seeker was Aranil, a Sindarin elf from Rivendell. His two dorm‑mates, the Dúnedain boy Anlomire and Hogsmeade's Adam Bailey, also made the team.
Anlomire became a Beater; Adam Bailey took the role of Keeper and, unsurprisingly, the captain's armband.
Though Adam was not the physical equal of his dorm‑mates, he knew Quidditch inside and out and excelled at organization and tactics; captaincy suited him well.
As for the other houses' Seekers: Basilisk House, Phoenix's first opponent, fielded a Noldorin elf from Lothlórien; Dragon House chose a Silvan elf from Mirkwood; Thunderbird House flew with a Telerin elf from the Grey Havens.
In short, the four houses weren't only competing with one another; their Seekers made it a contest among elven kindreds as well.
None of the elf children would concede pride. They set the reserve aside and fought for every inch in the air.
As a result, Quidditch quickly spread among elven communities and even became a common point of exchange between different elven peoples.
For a long time at Hogwarts, the Seeker's spot in each house was almost always claimed by that house's elf.
Even with the Snitch's value reduced and its power to end a match constrained, the Seeker remained crucial.
Any catch meant a 50‑point swing.
And if a team had already opened a lead of 50 or more—the proverbial game point—a Snitch catch could end the match outright.
For a role demanding keen sight, balance, and daring, there was no denying that elves made outstanding Seekers.
Of course, Seekers were not elves alone. In later years, gifted young wizards, with superb flying skill, outflew even elven rivals to become their houses' Seekers.
Some of them graduated to play professionally, rising as Quidditch stars adored by the crowds.
Hogwarts ran Quidditch as a round-robin tournament, with one match held each month.
By the time all houses had played, the year had turned; it was now May of 2962.
As the term's end approached, the school entered exam revision week.
There had been a week-long New Year's recess in between, from the last day of December 2961 until the return on January 7, which was counted as a winter holiday.
Because this fell upon the Hobbits' Yule—the last and first day of the year in the Shire‑reckoning, marked by six days of merriment—this break gradually came to be called the Yule holiday.
During Yule, the students returned home to their families, telling excited stories of life at school and showing the magic they had learned.
As the children went home, news of Hogwarts spread throughout Middle‑earth, across many lands and powers.
Countless children hoped to receive letters of acceptance and study magic in that wondrous castle.
And many parents hoped, just as fervently, for their children to have the same chance.
King Thengel of Rohan, a friend of Kael Black, had sired his son Théoden in 2948; the boy was now thirteen years old.
Théoden would one day be king during the War of the Ring, fall under Saruman's shadow, be freed by Gandalf, and in the end die upon the field of battle.
Thengel loved his only son dearly and wrote to Kael to ask whether Théoden might come to Hogwarts to learn magic.
But Théoden was plainly a Man without the gift; Kael had to decline, and he explained the reason kindly.
June came, and after a week of tense examinations, the first‑years finally relaxed.
At the year‑end feast, candles blazed, and the starry ceiling shone bright as if the heavens leaned down to listen.
Students of the four houses sat at their long tables before dishes piled high with a hundred delights.
The professors sat at the high table, supping and talking together.
After nearly a year, they had all come to know one another well.
At the center, Kael Black leaned toward his wife, Arwen, whose belly had grown round, and asked after her comfort.
Those around them—and the students below—took such tender worry for granted by now.
Professor Luke of Charms, Professor Bróg of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Edward of Transfiguration were deep in discussion over some knot of magic.
Professor Marglas of Herbology, a fellow witch, chatted amiably with Madam Amanda of the hospital wing.
Professor Allensis of Potions spoke with Alfar, the Astronomy professor, between bites.
Gandalf said something to Lady Galadriel that made her laugh, the sound like silver bells.
The scene below drew the students into a gentle spell of contentment.
When all had eaten well, Kael rose. His voice was quiet, yet it reached every corner of the hall.
With the students' eager attention, he announced the house totals one by one.
To Kael's satisfaction, the school had done well. There had been no midnight wanderings to speak of, no brawling, no flagrant violations of the rules.
The house standings were close; the difference lay largely in the steady earnings of points through diligence and good conduct.
In the end, Phoenix House edged out the others and took the House Cup.
In addition to the honor, Kael made a generous grant: 100 Galleons for the winning house.
It was not an immense sum, but Phoenix cheered as if the ceiling had dropped its starry crown into their laps.
Students of the other houses looked on in envy and swore to take the Cup the following year.
Professor Edward, Head of Phoenix House, allowed himself a rare smile and accepted the congratulations—tinged with envy—of the other Heads.
With a pleased wave, Kael transfigured the Great Hall's adornments into Phoenix's livery: gold‑and‑crimson banners with a phoenix in full flight gleamed on every side.
For the year to come, the Great Hall would keep these colors, a visible proof of Phoenix's triumph.
When another house someday won the Cup, the hall would change again, decked in new colors and new emblems.