The Night Hufflepuff Found Its Voice
The Hufflepuff dormitory fell silent.
Cards stopped shuffling.
Books lowered.
Whispers died.
At the center of the common room stood Lucien Aurelius Peverell Lionhardt.
Calm.
Straight-backed.
Eyes steady.
When he spoke, he didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
🛡️ Lucien's Speech
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Lucien began,
"is not a storybook subject."
Heads lifted.
"It is not folklore. It is not bedtime tales about vampires and tragic villains."
Some students clenched their fists.
"It is the class that decides whether you live or die."
Silence.
Lucien looked around—first-years, second-years, seniors nearing graduation.
"We live in a world where dark wizards exist. Curses exist. Creatures exist."
He paused.
"And yet we are being taught nothing useful."
Murmurs spread.
Lucien continued calmly.
"I will write a formal complaint to the Headmaster."
Gasps.
"Even if it earns me detention," he said evenly.
"Even if it puts a mark on my record."
A sharp intake of breath.
"Even if it gets me expelled."
The room erupted.
"NO!"
"You can't!"
"That's your future!"
Lucien raised a hand.
Silence returned.
"I will do it," he said firmly,
"because I refuse to graduate knowing my friends were left defenseless."
A senior swallowed.
"We can self-study," someone said hesitantly.
Lucien nodded once.
"How many of you truly can?" he asked.
"And what about those graduating this year?"
No one answered.
They didn't need to.
Then a voice spoke up.
"Why don't we write it together?"
Stillness.
Then—
Nods.
Murmurs.
Agreement.
Lucien smiled faintly.
"Tomorrow morning," he said,
"I'll submit it. Anyone who wishes may come."
Every single head nodded.
🏰 March to the Third Floor
The next morning—
Lucien stepped into the common room.
And stopped.
Every Hufflepuff student was waiting.
First-years to seventh-years.
No hesitation.
No fear.
One student asked nervously,
"Um… how do we even give it to the Headmaster?"
Lucien turned.
"The gargoyle," he replied.
Relief spread like wildfire.
đź—ż The Gargoyle's Burden
The third-floor corridor echoed with footsteps.
The stone gargoyle blinked as Lucien approached.
"Oh," it grumbled,
"you again. Password?"
Lucien leaned slightly forward.
"I'm here to submit letters to the Headmaster."
The gargoyle sighed.
"Figures. Drop them here."
Its mouth opened.
One by one—
Every Hufflepuff student placed their letter inside.
The gargoyle's stone cheeks puffed.
Its body visibly bloated.
"…Merlin's beard," it muttered.
Mission complete.
They turned and left.
🌱 Professor Sprout Finds Out
Later that day—
Professor Sprout froze mid-step.
"They did what?"
A prefect nodded nervously.
"All of them, Professor. Every Hufflepuff."
Sprout sank into a chair.
Embarrassed.
Proud.
And a little bit terrified.
"…Those children," she murmured,
"are braver than half the Wizengamot."
🌍 The Word Spreads
By evening, everyone knew.
Hufflepuff challenged Hogwarts itself Students demanded real Defense training Lucien Lionhardt led them
Other houses whispered.
Some admired.
Some scoffed.
But none ignored it.
And in the Headmaster's office—
A very old wizard stared at a gargoyle stuffed with letters.
And smiled.