anwhile, in the late-night Slytherin common room, lights still burned against the darkness. The serpents had gathered together, their faces etched with worry and mounting anxiety.
What consud their thoughts was precisely the House Cup—a trophy that had been their birthright for seven consecutive years. In the past, Slytherin had always dominated from the very beginning of each sester, their lead insurmountable and their victory inevitable.
But this year was completely different.
School had been in session for months, yet they remained suppressed by Hufflepuff House of all places. This unprecedented situation filled them with a creeping dread about one terrible possibility.
If they didn't win the House Cup this year, how would they face their parents when they went ho?
The thought haunted every conversation: "Before I enrolled, Slytherin was always the House Cup champion. After I enrolled, Slytherin was being beaten down by Hufflepuff?"
The very idea made them want to crawl into the nearest crack in the ground. This humiliation might even be recorded in Hogwarts: A History for future generations to mock!
Beyond this crushing embarrassnt, they were equally anxious about another troubling matter—their Head of House, Potions Master Severus Snape. He had seed... different lately.
Before this crisis, Professor Snape had been zealously enthusiastic about the House Cup. Not only had he brewed Phosphorescent Draughts for them during the Lumos Charm final test, but he had also spared no effort in targeting Hufflepuff afterward, giving Slytherin every possible chance to catch up.
But recently, Professor Snape seed like his soul had been stolen away. Every day after class, he disappeared without a trace, leaving everyone wondering what consud his attention. During lessons, he no longer targeted Hufflepuff with his usual venomous precision.
This change made the serpents deeply uneasy. Without Professor Snape's ruthless assistance, their chances of winning the House Cup would plumt dramatically.
"Does anyone know what's really happening?" one student asked desperately.
A hesitant voice broke the tense silence. "I accidentally saw Ciel Sprout and Professor Snape walking very close together one night. He seed to be helping the Head of House with work."
The revelation hit like a thunderbolt. Every serpent's eyes widened in shock, and the room imdiately erupted in agitated whispers.
"What?!"
They had never expected to hear such explosive news. Students exchanged aningful glances, pieces of a disturbing puzzle clicking into place.
"Do you think this might be the reason why our Head of House beca so abnormal?"
"No wonder he suddenly stopped targeting Hufflepuff."
"It must be like this!"
Just as their voices grew louder with mounting panic, Malfoy scoffed dismissively at their theory.
"What nonsense are you all spouting? The Head of House would go easy on Hufflepuff because of Ciel Sprout? Have your brains been soaked in Black Lake water?"
Malfoy's voice carried the arrogant certainty of soone who believed himself privy to greater sches. "Have you ever played Wizard's Chess? Masters always set up their pieces first. The Head of House must be playing a very elaborate ga. When he finally makes his move, perhaps he can get that bastard Ciel Sprout directly expelled—and even Professor Sprout won't be able to stop it!"
The serpents found this explanation oddly comforting, though doubt still lingered in their hearts.
"But what if it's not like that?"
Malfoy raised his head with supre confidence. "Isn't this simple? My father is friends with the Head of House. If there's any news, Professor Snape would tell , right? I'll go ask him right now."
With that declaration, Malfoy stood up with an air of superiority and strode toward Snape's office, leaving behind a room full of anxious serpents clinging to hope.
At that very mont, in the Slytherin Head of House office, Snape's expression was thunderously gloomy and irritated. The flobberworm mucus had run out again—a perpetual nightmare that haunted his existence.
This particular potion ingredient had to be processed fresh and could only be stored for a week at most. For Hogwarts' teaching requirents, it was absolutely essential. So after Ciel had taken leave today, Snape found himself forced to process it personally.
"Damn Ciel Sprout," he muttered darkly. "Did he have to take leave at this ti?"
Looking at the large basket of writhing flobberworms before him, Snape's frown deepened into a scowl. His research project was at a critical juncture, yet here he was, forced to deal with this mind-numbing drudgery. After processing these disgusting creatures, where would he find ti to devote to his actual research?
In the past, Snape would have simply accepted this tedious fate. But ever since Ciel had beco his Potions assistant, Snape had grown accustod to dumping all such nial work onto the eager Hufflepuff. Only then had he realized how wonderfully liberating it was to be free from these trivial matters and fully imrse himself in serious potion research.
This was precisely why he hadn't been paying much attention to the House Cup lately. Worrying about house points—how could that possibly compare to the intellectual satisfaction of advancing potions knowledge?
After experiencing this taste of academic freedom, the thought of returning to processing these worms filled him with profound resistance.
Just then, a knock echoed through his office door.
Already in a foul mood, Snape shot up like a coiled spring, his eyes blazing with volcanic fury. "So late at night, who dares to disturb ? I swear, if this is so student's prank, I'll deduct fifty points from their House!"
The next mont, Snape angrily yanked open the door, prepared to unleash his wrath—only to find Ciel standing there, completely unexpected.
Snape was stunned into montary silence. "Huh? Didn't you take leave?"
Ciel replied with earnest seriousness, "I took leave for yesterday, Professor. It's already past midnight now, so I think I should co to work."
Ciel's gaze fell upon the large basket of flobberworms in the office, and genuine anticipation flickered in his eyes. These were perfect materials for training his magical perception! Once his Magical Perception Enhancent advances to Silver Tier, he might achieve breakthrough progress in Piranha Algae cultivation!
Therefore, Ciel's performance could only be described as enthusiastic to the point of being suspicious.
"Professor, please leave all these flobberworms to . Oh, and the porcupine quills too. I ca a bit late today, but I'll process enough for the next two days. Your ti shouldn't be wasted on these mundane tasks."
Without waiting for permission, Ciel actively picked up the basin of disgusting, still-writhing flobberworms. He also grabbed a large basket of porcupine quills with practiced efficiency.
Seeing this scene, although Snape's facial expression remained unchanged and still looked appropriately gloomy, a trace of genuine relief flickered in the depths of his eyes. Ciel as a Potions assistant was indeed remarkably worry-free.
At this mont, Snape had long since abandoned any thoughts of dismissing the helpful Hufflepuff. After a mont of contemplative silence, he even took the initiative to ask, "What spell did Professor Flitwick create for you?"
After Ciel demonstrated the Frequency Charm, Snape frowned with obvious dissatisfaction. He muttered in a low voice, "How stingy. It's just a variant of the Lumos Charm. I thought it would at least be a spell that could be used in combat..."
A calculating thought flashed through his mind. Given that Ciel had saved him considerable ti and effort, perhaps he could modify this so-called Frequency Charm. Maybe he could transform it into a combat-worthy spell that even soone with Ciel's limited talent could effectively use.
Hmph. He wasn't doing this to thank the little badger. He simply disliked owing others favors.
At this ti, Ciel was already carrying the two large basins of materials, preparing to leave for the Potions classroom. "Professor, I won't disturb you then."
Looking at Ciel's retreating figure, Snape paused. After a mont of internal struggle, he said with studied indifference, "Considering that you're fairly serious and diligent in your work... one point to Hufflepuff."
Hearing this unprecedented declaration, Ciel's pupils suddenly contracted in shock. Holy shit? Snape gave him points? Had the sun risen from the west?!
But before Ciel could voice his amazent, Snape imdiately slamd his office door shut.
Ciel shook his head, a slight smile playing across his features. It seed that as long as he wasn't wearing Harry Potter's face, Snape wasn't completely unreasonable. In a sense, this could be considered sharing the pressure for his fellow Hufflepuffs.
This year's House Cup really had quite promising prospects!
Thoughts flashed through his mind, and after a mont, Ciel focused all his attention on the materials at hand. Taking steady, asured steps while firmly gripping the two heavy basins, he walked toward the Potions classroom with purpose.
After Ciel left, around the corner of the office corridor, Malfoy cautiously poked his head out, his face a mask of complete bewildernt.
"What did I just... hear?" he whispered to himself in disbelief. "Professor Snape gave points to that bastard Ciel?! No, wasn't the Head of House supposed to be playing so elaborate long ga?"
He suddenly felt dizzy and confused, his carefully constructed worldview crumbling. Only one thought flashed through his panicked mind with crystal clarity:
Danger!
Who said Hufflepuffs were all honest, harmless people? That despicable and shaless little badger was actually infiltrating their snake den—and succeeding!
(End of Chapter)
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