Watching the golden glow drift slowly across the horizon, the oppressive atmosphere from the exams instantly dissipated.
The giant squid floated half-submerged on the lake's surface, leisurely basking in the sunset's afterglow, its deep, inky body reflecting faint golden specks.
Neville sat by the Black Lake, enjoying the gentle breeze on his face, occasionally tossing pastries and snacks to the giant octopus.
The seemingly fierce tentacles delicately picked up the treats, lazily feeding them toward its mouth, the sound of lapping waves pleasant and soothing.
"Ah, freedom feels so good..."
Harry collapsed weakly onto the grass, sighing with contentment and relief.
After leaving the castle, the burning sensation in his forehead scar instantly disappeared, leaving him feeling unburdened.
"I shouldn't have forgotten about the werewolf..." Hermione was still complaining about the key points she'd overlooked during the exam.
Ron, lying beside Harry, covered his ears in agony, angry but not daring to speak.
Not far away, the little Slytherin snakes had organized a rugby match to release pre-exam stress and celebrate their post-exam relief and relaxation.
"Hey! Slytherin lords."
"How about adding us to the game?"
The mischief-loving Weasley twins approached with several bold Gryffindors, trying to join the match.
The little Slytherin snakes were initially stunned, then unexpectedly broke into meaningful smiles.
"Welcome—we couldn't ask for more."
Tiamat, who usually hated sweating, was the first to step forward, his smile as warm and brilliant as spring sunshine. He elegantly extended his hand, the invitation unmistakable.
"Friendship first, competition second."
"Of course!"
Fred Weasley also abandoned his usual carefree demeanor, firmly grasping Tiamat's hand. Beneath his seemingly warm and sincere gaze lurked barely perceptible cunning.
"Hey, count us in!"
Next, Oliver Wood approached with several Quidditch team members, his smile stiff.
This made the little Slytherin snakes even more excited.
No one had expected that near the end of term, they'd get another chance to thoroughly teach Gryffindor a lesson...
"Nice job, Marcus..."
"Oh my god!"
"That's disgusting..."
"Damn Weasley!!!"
On the field, Marcus violently knocked Wood to the ground, trying to intercept the rugby ball passed by George Weasley.
However, when he caught the ball in his arms, he discovered it was covered with Dungbombs...
The stench exploded outward. The little snakes watching from the sidelines hurriedly retreated, covering their noses and cursing.
Angry middle fingers rose like a forest.
At the explosion's epicenter, Wood's face also turned green, but seeing Marcus lying on the ground retching painfully, he burst into hearty, satisfied laughter.
"Damn... ugh..."
"I'll kill... ugh..." Marcus clutched his throat, rolling his eyes from the stench.
"We'll see about that, Marcus."
Wood stood up smugly, completely ignoring the scrapes and stinging pain on his body.
Moments later, the confrontation between both sides became increasingly intense, with scenes of chaos everywhere.
Whizzing Worms, Filibuster Fireworks, Stink Pellets—Dungbomb explosions echoed continuously.
Nearly every Gryffindor was injured, and Slytherin wasn't faring much better.
Pungent stench surrounded their bodies, tears streaming uncontrollably, fireworks occasionally bursting from their backsides.
This scene stimulated not only their sense of smell but their dignity...
"Father, won't you give it a try?"
"Give Gryffindor a lesson!"
Lisa sidled up to Tiger, her eyes glinting with malicious intent, her sweet, affected voice mixed with barely concealed reverence and anticipation.
"Shut up, Lisa."
"Don't make me shut down your little kitchen." Tiger glanced at Lisa, his expression darkening.
The stench from the field was indescribable.
Malfoy had already fainted from the smell, while the stubborn Adrian was running and vomiting simultaneously.
He suspected the Weasley twins had used real dung—such dirty tactics were just like the old Slytherin ways.
Just as Tiger was sighing speechlessly, his peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of the small slope by the Black Lake.
Hermione, Harry, and the others were running hurriedly toward the castle, their eyes filled with urgency and tension...
Night fell.
The crowd on the field gradually dispersed.
All the Gryffindors were carried to the hospital wing, yet their triumphant, delighted laughter never stopped for a moment.
The Slytherins returned to their common room with flushed faces, too angry to even want dinner.
"Father, your Spanish seafood paella."
At the bar, Lisa obsequiously brought over a plate, even drawing a heart on the paella—utterly fawning.
"Not bad, Miss Lisa." Smelling the enticing aroma, Tiger raised his eyebrows with satisfaction.
"The renovation plan is suspended—your little kitchen won't become a public restroom for now..."
He casually took some ice water to rinse his mouth.
In truth, Tiger didn't have the habit of rinsing before meals.
However, Slytherin's various etiquette requirements were gradually influencing him, and rinsing did indeed enhance his appreciation of fine food.
"Father, your lemon water."
After the meal, Raven Burke appeared at the bar in fresh clothes, taking on bartending duties.
"Thank you, Raven..."
Tiger took the glass, swaying the ice cubes leisurely to the jazz music from the gramophone, listening to the ice dance and flow with the rhythm, tinkling melodiously.
Gunpowder lazily rolled over in his arms.
Night gradually deepened.
After an intense post-game analysis in the common room, the little snakes cursed their way back to their dormitories.
Gryffindor could abandon their dignity to use Dungbombs, but they couldn't bring themselves to sink so low...
Tiger also stood up with amusement.
Young people should face some setbacks.
Especially these arrogant little snakes—sometimes dignity wasn't that important...
"Good night, Raven."
"Sweet dreams, Father..."
Raven Burke bowed respectfully.
Tiger habitually ignited hellfire, looking at the flames on his skeletal hand as his fierce, lazy gaze suddenly froze.
The firelight surged and leaped, the tremendous heat instantly melting the glass, scalding steam billowing forth.
"Damn bastard..."
"You finally came back!"
Outside the Gryffindor common room, Ron, following Hermione's orders, brought out that studded baseball bat.
Hermione handed the bat to Neville. Seeing the bloodstains on the spikes, Neville fearfully stepped back two paces.
"Hermione..."
"I think... uh... maybe things aren't as serious as you think. I mean, this thing is just..."
Harry and Ron also showed expressions of unease. Ron steeled himself and said quietly:
"Hermione, we're wizards."
"You know, this is just a stick..."
"Huh?" Hermione nearly laughed from anger, looking speechlessly at the wand in Ron's arms.
"Then what's that in your arms?"
"Isn't that also a stick?"
"That's different, Hermione!" Ron stared in disbelief, his face full of outrage.
"This is a wand!"
"Listen to me."
"Now's not the time to argue."
"Oh, really—"
Hermione drew out the words, her tone full of sarcasm, though her face remained expressionless.
"Well then, Mr. Weasley, can you tell me what spells you know?"
"We learned them together—did you forget?" Ron blinked in confusion.
"Lumos, Wingardium Leviosa, Scourgify... Rep... Reparo..."
As he recited, Ron suddenly realized something was wrong and became hesitant.
"Oh, quite a lot indeed."
Hermione crossed her arms, revealing the brass knuckles she'd already put on, curling her lips mockingly:
"So, Mr. Weasley, are you planning to use Wingardium Leviosa to knock Snape's head off?"
Now Neville completely understood Hermione's point.
As someone who couldn't even use spells properly.
He obediently took the baseball bat, swinging it a few times—it felt surprisingly comfortable in his hands.
"..."
Seeing the little wastes beside her finally shut up, Hermione's expression immediately became serious.
"Listen, we're just children!"
"Children who can't even use spells properly. We're going there to prevent the Philosopher's Stone from being stolen."
"Not to go to war."
"Thieves run when discovered, but we must guard against them lashing out in desperation, so we need to learn to protect ourselves."
"Understand?!"
"Especially you, Harry!"
At this point, Hermione's voice suddenly rose several notches, making Harry shiver involuntarily.
Like an enraged lioness, Hermione glared threateningly and growled through gritted teeth: "Hold onto what I gave you properly."
"Protect yourself!"
"Or I'll stuff that thing in your mouth!"
Harry's face went pale as he touched his pocket, nodding tremblingly. "Yes, Boss!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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