A few days later, the final day of the school year arrived. The Great Hall was buzzing with anticipation as the hourglasses that held the house points gleamed in the candlelight.
Professor Dippet, the Headmaster, rose from his seat and cleared his throat."The House Cup," he announced, "goes to… Slytherin!"
The hall erupted in a mixture of cheers and groans. Our table exploded with excitement — emerald banners waving, students clapping and shouting. I joined in with a proud grin as silver and green lights shimmered through the hall.
We had done it.We'd beaten Ravenclaw by twenty-three points.
After the feast, we made our way down into the Slytherin common room, deep beneath the lake. The place was alive with celebration — laughter, music, and the crackle of enchanted candles casting silver-green light across the stone walls.
Everyone was talking, eating, or showing off some spell or trick they'd learned over the year. Someone had conjured floating serpent-shaped lights that twirled through the air like streamers.
I leaned back in my chair, watching it all. I'd earned perfect marks, brewed potions that even Slughorn called genius, and Slytherin had claimed the House Cup. It was the perfect way to end the year.
But even as I joined in the laughter, my mind was already drifting elsewhere — to plans far greater than school glory.To immortality.To the Sword of Gryffindor.
Soon, my real work would begin.