Chapter 95 Year-End Banquet
As Aaron walked into the common room, Crabbe and Goylecame from the middle of the hall and blocked his way with their bulky bodies.
"If you have nothing to do, don't block the way.
You two are so tall; appearing in front of me suddenly can easily cause misunderstandings," Aaron said speechlessly, "I might just casually knock you away if I'm in a bad mood."
The two immediately moved aside, politely invited Aaron to a sofa, and handed Abey a plate of fruit.
Abey's eyes lit up; besides keeping one apple, it stuffed the rest into its pockets.
"Speak directly. I don't think you two would come looking for me for no reason!"
"The exam results are out. I don't know why Dumbledoreannounced the scores early this time," Crabbe said, "You got full marks, full marks in all subjects."
The boss's grades are also very good, it's just..."
"It's just that he lost, right?" Aaron said with a hint of ease.
This result was as he expected; at least he didn't have to use his family connections.
"Yes!" Crabbe nodded, "He's twelve points behind Granger in total score, ranking just below her.
Not just her, Weasley and Potter also scored very high, surpassing us two.
Draco can't accept this result. He's locked himself in his room and won't let us in."
"That's normal!
But don't worry, he'll get over it soon."
"Of course we believe in him," Goyle said somewhat awkwardly, "but it's been over ten hours, and he still hasn't come out, not even for lunch.
We don't know how to comfort him either. Luckily, you're back."
"So, you want me to talk to him?"
"Exactly. You have the best relationship with him; only you can persuade him," Crabbe said, "At least get him to open the door. We don't want to sleep on the common room sofa tonight."
Aaron's mouth twitched. He wondered if Malfoy was lucky or unlucky to have such followers.
For these two, sleep quality seemed to be more important.
"Alright, leave it to me!"
Aaron picked up Abey and walked to Draco's dormitory, gently knocking on the door a few times.
"I told you, don't bother me."
Draco's voice came from inside the room, sounding particularly resentful.
"It's me."
A few seconds later, the door opened.
When Draco saw Aaron, the gloom on his face dissipated considerably, quickly replaced by joy.
"I heard someone was sulking alone because of bad grades, so I specifically came to check."
"Who said that?
Was it Crabbe or Goyle? Or both of them?"
"Of course it was both of them," Aaron said speechlessly, "They came looking for me as soon as I got back, wanting me to comfort you."
"Comfort?" Draco stood up somewhat angrily, "They think I'm too fragile!
I don't need comfort. This is such a small matter; it's not like I can't lose. At worst, I'll be a bit more polite to her in the future."
"Then why are you still locked in your room?"
Draco's expression changed, and he stammered, "I just, I just need to figure out how to tell my dad."
"What's there to not say?
Your grades are still very good. He should be proud of you."
"That's true, but I did lose to Granger, a Wizard from a Muggle family.
He always expresses his admiration for me in his letters; if he knew, he might be disappointed."
"You locked yourself in your room just because of that?" Aaron rolled his eyes speechlessly, "How bored are you!
This is completely worrying about nothing!
Lucius Malfoy wouldn't just casually lose his temper with his precious son over one exam result."
"But... she's only one rank above me. If my father asks..."
"No 'buts'," Aaron interrupted him, "Think of it from another angle: at least you defeated Harry Potter and your family's arch-rival, Weasley.
With just those two points, he can't find fault.
And as far as I know, your father didn't achieve such grades when he was in school.
If he himself didn't do well, what right does he have to lecture you?"
"This..." Draco was stunned for a moment, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely sure. A certain Professor told me this," Aaronsaid with righteous nonsense. He had no idea what Lucius's grades were like.
But he was certain that Lucius Malfoy would never surpass his son, who had diligently studied for an entire school year.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief; he cared deeply about his father's opinion, and now it seemed he had indeed surpassed him.
"Aaron, did you really go to the underground classroom with Harry Potter and them the night before last, and defeat Professor Quirrell, thwarting his plot?
Is that true?"
"It's true, otherwise the two Professors and I wouldn't have spent a day in the infirmary."
"Can you tell me the details?" Draco rubbed his hands excitedly, clearly very interested in the matter.
"Um... how should I put it?
We split up and coincidentally met at the trapdoor." Aaronbriefly described the specific events to Draco, with some definite omissions.
In his story, the existence of Lord Voldemort was cleverly removed. The fact that the Dark Lord was still alive and waiting for an opportunity to make a comeback was not suitable for Draco to know.
"That's too exciting, but also too dangerous," Draco said indignantly, slapping the bedsheet, "It's all Harry and their fault. It would have been much safer according to your plan, but they dragged you into it and even caused you to get hurt."
"It's all in the past. At least the outcome was good."
"You're just too magnanimous," Draco said unhappily, "If they hadn't insisted on going their own way, you wouldn't have been unconscious for so long.
And Hagrid, that half-Giant, he's an idiot. It's one thing for the secret to be leaked, but the fact that he didn't even notice much of it is a bit inexcusable."
Aaron:...A true confidant!
...The next evening, all the teachers and students of the school gradually gathered in the Great Hall for the end-of-year feast.
Several rows of green banners, representing Slytherin, hung from the ceiling, celebrating their seventh consecutive victory in the House Cup.
The Great Hall was particularly noisy, and the tables were laden with exquisite food, but they could only look, not eat, until the Principal announced the start of the feast.
Aaron desperately held down Abey, who was drooling, fearing it would be unable to restrain itself and pounce on the table to feast.
Clink! Clink! Clink!
A clear tapping sound rang out, and the noisy chatter quickly subsided.
Professor McGonagall put down the golden spoon in her hand. Dumbledore, who was sitting next to her, stood up and faced all the students.
"Another year has passed, and an entire summer holiday awaits you. I'm sure you're all eager, aren't you!
Before we can fully enjoy these delicious dishes, we must first award the House Cup," Dumbledore said excitedly, "We have tallied the scores, and the specific points for each house are as follows:
Fourth place, Gryffindor, 323 points; third place, Hufflepuff, with a total of 352 points; second place, Ravenclaw, 437 points, and topping the list is Slytherin, with a total of 493 points."
As his words fell, a deafening cheer erupted from the Slytherin dining table, but the faces of the students from the other three houses were not very pleasant, and they only clapped symbolically.
The sound of applause was like a stone sinking into the sea, unable to make a ripple amidst the cheers.
Slytherin was truly excellent, but their popularity was indeed not great, probably somewhat related to the excessive number of times they had consecutively won the championship.
Anyone who had been suppressed for six, no, seven years, probably wouldn't be in a very good mood.
At the teachers' table, Snape clapped quickly. Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick did not have such strong competitiveness; although regretful, a loss was a loss, it didn't matter.
Professor McGonagall, however, looked as if she had lost a loved one, not even bothering to pretend, with sadness and disappointment practically written all over her face.
"Very good, Slytherin, very good, Slytherin," Dumbledoresaid, "However, recent events must also be taken into account.
I have some final points to award."
The scene instantly quieted down. The smiles of the already victorious Slytherin students gradually faded, while the other students looked on with anticipation.
A sudden unexpected event at this point meant that the House Cup might change hands.
Because the points that Principal Dumbledore himself would personally award would definitely not be a small number. If enough points were added to a certain house, such as Ravenclaw, which was in second place, it was not impossible for them to overtake Slytherin.
But Professor McGonagall, who knew the truth, showed no signs of anticipation. This would only make Gryffindor's loss less embarrassing, but it still wouldn't challenge Slytherin's championship.
"Miss Hermione Granger," Dumbledore smiled as he looked at a young Wizard at the Gryffindor long table, "For her calm and clever use of intelligence when others were in danger, I award fifty points."
Hermione pursed her lips, her smile irrepressibly widening. The Gryffindors at her table also erupted in fierce cheers.
Fifty points! With these fifty points, they would be in third place, escaping last.
"The second award goes to Mr. Ron Weasley. He displayed superb chess skills, the most outstanding in Hogwarts in a hundred years, and is awarded fifty points."
Cheers rang out again. Ron was dazed by this sudden award, while his older brothers proudly boasted to others that Ronwas their youngest brother.
"The third award goes to Harry Potter, in recognition of his daring and extraordinary courage. For this, I award Gryffindor sixty points."
As his words fell, the entire Great Hall erupted into a sea of cheers. Besides Slytherin, the other three houses began to cheer for Gryffindor. They were now only ten points away from pulling Slytherin off the championship, and almost everyone looked at their Principal with anticipation, hoping he would add more points to Gryffindor.