Jon figured he'd probably never remember exactly how he spent the days following the first-year final exams.
He walked around with a constant gloomy expression, trapped in a state of utter despair.
His mind was filled with bizarre thoughts:
"Why did it turn out like this?"
"The Basilisk, the Horcrux, Occlumency—I was the one who prepared for all of it!"
"Why does something as terrifying as a Boggart even exist..."
At one point, Astoria thought he was genuinely ill and dragged him to the Hospital Wing.
"Mr. Hart's just a little shaken up," Madam Pomfrey said after a thorough check. "Much like you were, Miss Greengrass... Luckily, we still have some of that calming potion left over from last time."
After downing half a bottle of the pale green, weird-tasting potion, Madam Pomfrey insisted he stay overnight before finally letting him go.
When Jon returned to the Hufflepuff common room, he heard the latest news: in the first match of the final Quidditch round, Gryffindor narrowly beat Ravenclaw 270 to 240.
Among the four house teams, only Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had won two matches. But Hufflepuff had a net score over 900 points higher than Gryffindor.
That meant, unless Hufflepuff lost to the uninterested Slytherin by more than 900 points, they'd take the Quidditch Cup.
Sure enough, in the game against Slytherin, Hufflepuff's seven players took a laid-back approach, letting Slytherin rack up 16 straight goals... and then Cedric Diggory snatched the Golden Snitch right from under Draco Malfoy's seat.
Hufflepuff ended up narrowly losing 150 to 160.
Still, the loss spared Slytherin from the embarrassment of three straight defeats—and gave Hufflepuff their first Quidditch Cup win in thirteen years.
...
Three days after the last exam, Jon joined the Hufflepuff crowd heading to the Great Hall for the end-of-year feast.
The hall was decked out in Slytherin green and silver, celebrating their seventh House Cup win in eight years. Behind the staff table, a massive banner with the Slytherin serpent hung on the wall.
One by one, students and professors filled the hall until it was packed.
Once everyone had arrived, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stood up, raised both hands, and signaled for silence.
The Great Hall quieted almost instantly.
"Before we all dive into this wonderful feast, I must ask you to indulge an old man's ramblings," Professor Dumbledore said warmly. "What a marvelous year it's been! I trust your little brains are a bit fuller than when the year began. And with the whole summer ahead of you, you'll have time to digest it all and make room for what's to come..."
"Now then, as far as I know, we must begin with the House Cup awards. The current standings are as follows: In fourth place, Gryffindor with 412 points. Third, Hufflepuff with 423. Second, Ravenclaw with 432. And in first place, Slytherin with 539."
A roar of cheers and stomping erupted from the Slytherin table.
Jon saw Astoria hugging her sister in celebration.
"Slytherin again..." he heard Prefect Gabriel Truman mutter under his breath. "Ever since Snape became Head of Slytherin, they're either first or second every single year…"
Gabriel had a point.
Snape was notorious for docking points from students of other houses in Potions—though Jon had rarely been targeted himself—while favoring Slytherins with generous point awards for even minor achievements. With the other three Heads of House being generally fair, Slytherin's total was often miles ahead.
Hufflepuff, with the largest student population, suffered the most deductions every year. So even with a Quidditch Cup win, they still only placed third in the House Cup.
"Don't worry," Cedric Diggory said reassuringly. "Professor Dumbledore might still have a few things to say, like last year."
Cedric was right.
"Yes, well done!" Dumbledore added. "But recent events must also be taken into account."
He cleared his throat and continued, "There are still a few points to award. Let's see… First—Miss Ginny Weasley!"
At the end of the Gryffindor table, Ginny stood up, blushing. But sensing something was off, she quickly sat back down.
"In the face of one of the darkest, most terrifying beings, she held on to what reason she had left—and courageously came forward. For that, I award Gryffindor forty points!"
The cheers from the Gryffindors nearly lifted the enchanted ceiling.
"That's my sister, you know! My one and only!" Percy Weasley shouted proudly from the Prefects' table.
"Second—Miss Hermione Granger," Dumbledore went on. "Likely the youngest student in Hogwarts history to brew an advanced potion... I award Gryffindor forty points!"
The Gryffindor table erupted again. Students were jumping up and down in delight.
Jon raised an eyebrow, astonished. Was he really this impressive?
"Third—Mr. Harry Potter!" Dumbledore announced, and the hall fell into a sudden hush. "He faced the Slytherin monster head-on, risking his life with unparalleled courage—gaining even the recognition of Godric Gryffindor himself. For that, I award Gryffindor fifty points!"
The explosion of cheers was deafening.
The Gryffindors were ecstatic. Their total had just climbed to 542, surpassing Slytherin's 539!
For the second year in a row, Gryffindor had snatched the House Cup on the final day of term. On the platform, Snape forced an awkward smile as he shook hands with Professor McGonagall.
Dumbledore had to raise his voice above the noise. "Therefore, it's time to make a few... decorative changes!"
With a flick of his hand, the green banners turned scarlet, silver flags became gold, and the massive Slytherin serpent faded away, replaced by a majestic Gryffindor lion.
"Classic ending," Jon muttered to himself, taking a sip of pumpkin juice in advance.
Then, Dumbledore raised his hand again.
The celebrating Gryffindors went quiet.
"And of course, the fourth—Mr. Jon Hart," Dumbledore said calmly.
"Pfft!" Jon spat out his pumpkin juice, nearly spraying it all over Hannah Abbott.
But neither Hannah nor the other Hufflepuffs seemed to notice. All eyes were on Dumbledore.
"Wait a second... is Dumbledore about to give me points?" Jon quickly did the math. Dumbledore would have to give Hufflepuff 120 points to beat Gryffindor.
Could turning a Boggart into the headmaster be worth that much?
"In my ninety-plus years at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said with a grin, "I've never seen a student conjure such an amusing Boggart... For that, I award Hufflepuff ten points."
Only ten? Jon let out a sigh. Dumbledore was stingy.
But the Hufflepuffs around him were anything but calm.
With ten more points, Hufflepuff now had 433—just one more than Ravenclaw's 432.
They were no longer dead last, but third.
Cedric Diggory pumped his fist. Gabriel Truman looked on the verge of tears. Hannah Abbott even hugged Jon from behind.
"We're finally not in last place…"
"Hufflepuff has been at the bottom for seven years straight…"
"Well done, Jon! You're Hufflepuff's hero!"
Even Professor Sprout stood up from the staff table with a warm smile and nodded at him.
Suddenly a hero, Jon was swept up into a whirlwind of Hufflepuff celebration.
And then it hit him—
"Hannah, please don't wipe the pumpkin juice on me…"
...
Meanwhile, at the Ravenclaw table, the mood was completely different.
Even Professor Flitwick had bowed his head in shame at the podium... you could barely see him behind it.
Penelope Clearwater, the prefect, was wiping tears from her face, sobbing uncontrollably… and she wasn't the only one. Most Ravenclaw girls were crying out loud—except for Luna Lovegood, who sat there smiling as if nothing had happened.
"What's going on?" Jon whispered to Cedric.
He couldn't help but notice how many Ravenclaw boys were glaring at him with open hostility.
"This is the first time this century Ravenclaw has finished last in the House Cup," Cedric explained. "They've won it more than any other house this century, and they haven't come last in over ninety years..."
"Well done, Jon!" Gabriel gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. "We don't always have to be the ones at the bottom. Let Ravenclaw have a taste for once!"
Jon offered a strained smile and glanced toward the staff table.
Dumbledore winked at him, then turned away...
"Well then—let the feast and the celebration begin!"
With that, an endless array of delicious dishes appeared suddenly on the tables...