— — — — — —
"I don't see any need for punishment."
In the small office, Snape slowly tossed another bundle of firewood into the fireplace. The flames crackled and flared higher, casting shifting light across his face.
The other Heads of House stayed silent, all eyes turning toward him. No one looked surprised.
Out of all of them, Snape was the most fiercely protective of his own. Everyone knew it. Otherwise, Slytherin wouldn't have dominated the House Cup for so many years.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well this wasn't our students' fault. So why should they be punished?"
Faced with the question, the old man simply shook his head.
"This isn't about right or wrong," Dumbledore said calmly. "I want them to understand that fighting is never the proper way to solve problems. They have other, more rational choices. Acting on impulse shouldn't be one of them."
"Dumbledore, not stepping in when it mattered would've been cowardice."
To everyone's surprise, the usually gentle Sprout spoke up in opposition. "Right and wrong don't matter. Choices don't matter. What matters is that they stood up for their school."
"I agree with Pomona," McGonagall added, her voice firm, abandoning her usual strict adherence to rules.
Flitwick didn't say a word. He simply stepped forward to stand beside his colleagues, making his stance clear.
Not only were the Heads of House unwilling to blame the students who fought, they were proud of them.
That caught Dumbledore off guard. As far as he could remember, this was the first time all four of them had opposed him at once.
But soon enough, a trace of warmth surfaced in his eyes.
Students standing up for their school, professors shielding their students. Wasn't that exactly the kind of scene he had always hoped for?
If the situation weren't so serious, he might have shed a few sentimental tears.
But sentiment aside, consequences still mattered.
"I understand how you all feel," Dumbledore said gently, trying to steady the increasingly heated room. "But there's something you may not have considered… Minerva, the number of students sent to the hospital wing. Roughly the same on both sides, wasn't it?"
McGonagall froze for a moment, then replayed the scene in her mind before nodding. "Yes. If you count the Uagadou and Ilvermorny students together, they might even have had slightly fewer people than ours."
"Yes… fewer," Dumbledore sighed, a trace of helplessness in his voice. "But Hogwarts had the numbers in this fight—twice that of Ilvermorny, I believe. Ilvermorny even had to trick some clueless Uagadou students into joining them."
"Sigh! Perhaps it's time for a wake-up call. I've noticed that many of our students don't take those from other schools seriously. That attitude needs correcting."
The four Heads of House instantly changed expressions.
Snape's hand clenched tightly around his sleeve. McGonagall pressed her lips together. Sprout adjusted her slipping hat. Flitwick's eyes widened.
What did that mean?
They had the numbers advantage… and still didn't win?
"I've reconsidered," Snape said at once, his tone turning sharp and cutting. "Regardless of the cause, gathering in the corridor to fight is a clear violation and must be punished. Otherwise, anyone could find an excuse to start a brawl, and school rules would become meaningless."
"Take Harry Potter, for example. That boy is a constant troublemaker. I guarantee he'll clash with others again. He needs to be punished. Severely."
"That's reasonable," McGonagall agreed immediately. "And Mr. Malfoy's mouth… does need some discipline."
In the blink of an eye, all four Heads of House switched sides, now criticizing their own students with near ferocity.
It was downright humiliating.
They hadn't known the full situation earlier.
Losing to a loosely thrown-together group of students from other schools? If word got out, their reputations as educators would take a serious hit.
If they'd known it turned out like this, who would've defended the students? The fact that they hadn't personally stepped in to discipline them already showed restraint.
After a short discussion, the punishment was quickly decided.
Every student involved in the fight would lose twenty points for their house, and their workload for the following week would be doubled.
As for those who had lost or been badly injured, once they recovered, each professor would keep a close eye on them. If anything like this happened again, they'd better not disgrace the school.
...
..
The hospital wing, spacious as it usually was, had been packed with beds.
Hogwarts students were placed on the outer side, while those from Ilvermorny and Uagadou occupied the inner area.
Madam Pomfrey stayed busy well into the afternoon.
Most injuries weren't serious. With potions and counter-curses, many students had already recovered. Even so, she insisted they all stay overnight for observation, just in case.
Of course, there were a few unlucky ones.
Some had been hit by so many spells that the effects tangled together in strange ways, like a knotted ball of yarn. Untangling that mess took real effort, even for Madam Pomfrey.
Among the unlucky were two of Malfoy's ever-present cronies, along with Ron.
"..."
Strangely enough, Potter and Malfoy weren't trading insults for once. Instead, they found themselves marveling at the fact that they had actually fought side by side.
But the moment visiting students brought news of the punishment, that brief harmony shattered.
The injured students felt like the sky had just fallen.
Was there no justice in the world?
They had bled for Hogwarts, and now they were being punished for it too?
"Whose fault is it that you lost?" Zabini sneered from the side, clearly enjoying himself. "I overheard Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall talking. At first, the Heads of House were completely against punishing you."
He grinned wider. "Then they found out you had the numbers advantage and still didn't win. That's when they got mad. Honestly, this punishment is already Dumbledore holding them back. Otherwise, it would've been even worse."
The room fell silent.
The so-called "heroes," who had just been feeling wronged, suddenly didn't have much to say.
…When you put it that way, it really was kind of embarrassing.
"Stop making noise in here! They need rest!"
Madam Pomfrey suddenly popped her head out from the back room and barked at them. The young wizards scattered instantly.
...
..
The students from Ilvermorny and Uagadou weren't having an easy time either.
On the Uagadou side, anyone involved in the morning's incident who wasn't hospitalized got dragged straight to the Forbidden Forest. Okeye personally handed them over to Hagrid. Apparently, Hagrid had been clearing land recently to build a garden, so they were put to work as "voluntary laborers".
As for the Ilvermorny students, they were marched to the riverside. Fontaine stood there holding a heavy wooden oar. For every school rule he recited, he brought it down hard on a student's backside. Behind them, a crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle.
It hurt physically, and it ruined their dignity on a global scale. A double punishment in every sense.
Many students watching couldn't help but wince.
Corporal punishment had almost disappeared from schools. At Hogwarts, it wasn't just against school rules; the Ministry of Magic had strict laws forbidding teachers from physically harming students.
But at Ilvermorny, and in much of America, corporal punishment was still legal in over twenty states. The tradition remained. The oar in Fontaine's hand was practically an heirloom, passed down through generations of headmasters.
...
"Ahhh! I missed all of that?!"
In a Slytherin dormitory, Daphne wailed the moment her roommates finished recounting everything.
If she'd known something this exciting was going to happen today, she wouldn't have slept through the morning.
"Are they still fighting?" she asked suddenly, already throwing off her blanket and getting ready to jump out of bed.
Her roommates all twitched.
It was already afternoon. Did she think they'd been fighting nonstop since morning? What, were all the Hogwarts professors dead?
Realizing she'd missed the entire show, Daphne slumped in defeat, changed her clothes, sent a message to Astoria, and headed down to the Great Hall for lunch.
As she passed through the entrance hall, she spotted her sister standing with Tom in front of the hourglasses that tracked house points, both of them watching with great interest. Curious, she walked over.
The moment she saw it clearly, she jumped.
"They deducted that much?!"
"Yep." Tom cheerfully ruffled her hair. "There were over fifty students involved in the fight, from all four houses. Twenty points each. That's more than a thousand points gone. Honestly, it's practically a Hogwarts miracle…"
The lower halves of all four house hourglasses were nearly brimming with negative points.
Tom couldn't help but marvel a little.
Maybe he really was favored by fate.
At the start of the term, he'd actually considered trying to win the House Cup with negative points, just to push the difficulty and earn some kind of system achievement. But with everything that followed, he'd gotten busy and forgotten about it.
And yet, somehow, things had naturally developed in that direction anyway.
Sometimes, when luck's on your side, even the world seems to help you along.
Since everyone was being so cooperative, it would be a waste not to take advantage of it.
...
After eating with Daphne, Tom stopped Fred and George just as they were about to head upstairs to visit Ron.
"George, Fred," he said, "your little brother got beaten that badly. Don't you want to get revenge for him?"
He finished speaking and immediately noticed something was off.
There wasn't a trace of brotherly outrage on their faces. Instead, both twins took a cautious step back.
George shook his head rapidly. "Not angry at all. No revenge either. Ron? Who's that? Don't know him."
Fred withdrew the foot he'd already placed on the stairs. "George, I suddenly feel like I'm still hungry. Want to grab another bite?"
"Let's go."
Watching the twins walk away without a second glance, Tom fell into a long, speechless silence.
…Seriously?
Was his reputation really that bad now?
.
.
.