The Farewell Feast.
The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as students eagerly awaited the results of the House Cup. The enchanted ceiling reflected the deep blue of the evening sky, and floating candles cast a warm glow over the four house tables.
Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table, mostly quiet, as his housemates murmured about the final standings. He had survived his first year—barely—but he wasn’t thinking about house points. He was still processing everything that had happened beneath the castle.
At the staff table, Dumbledore rose to his feet, and the hall immediately fell silent.
"Another year has come and gone," he said with his usual warmth. "Before we leave for the summer, we must first award the House Cup. The final standings are as follows:
"In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with 352 points."
Polite applause echoed from their table.
"In third place, Gryffindor, with 426 points."
The Gryffindor table clapped, but it was clear some students were bitter about their placement.
"In second place, Ravenclaw, with 462 points."
A few disappointed sighs came from Harry’s table, but they still applauded their strong performance.
"And in first place, with 478 points—Slytherin!"
The Slytherin table erupted in cheers, and green and silver banners shimmered into existence around the Great Hall. Malfoy looked insufferably smug, while Snape nodded approvingly.
Dumbledore allowed the celebration for a moment before raising a hand for silence.
"Yes, yes, congratulations to Slytherin," he said. "However, I must award a few last-minute points." His eyes twinkled as they landed on Harry.
Harry tensed. He had a bad feeling about this.
"For Mr. Harry Potter—who, despite his young age, displayed great courage and resourcefulness in the face of extreme danger—I award 15 points."
A hush fell over the hall as the Ravenclaw hourglass shifted.
Ravenclaw—477 points.
A single point behind Slytherin.
Gasps and whispers spread through the hall. The Ravenclaw table clapped for Harry, though some looked disappointed that they had come so close.
But Slytherin still won. Their banners remained. Their table cheered even louder, and Snape looked immensely satisfied.
Harry, for his part, didn’t care about the points. He hadn’t gone through the trials for recognition. He had just done what he had to do.
As the feast carried on, he allowed himself a moment of quiet relief.
His had survived his first year at Hogwarts.
And for now, that was enough.