HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them

"Slytherin is about to win the House Cup for nine consecutive years!"

Two weeks of intense exams passed in the blink of an eye. Although exam results hadn't been announced yet, all the young wizards seemed in surprisingly high spirits. Those who felt they had performed well were naturally happy, while those who felt they had done poorly figured they should enjoy themselves while they still could.

Slytherin students were obviously more excited than the other young wizards throughout the castle.

Because their House Cup hourglass was nearly overflowing with emerald gems, which meant this year's House Cup champion would still be Slytherin!

Looking at that overflowing hourglass, the Head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape, was feeling somewhat conflicted about the situation.

He glanced at the young figure in the distance who had his arms crossed and seemed to be studying how exactly the House Cup scoring system worked, and the complexity in his dark eyes deepened considerably.

Due to this point-deducting black hole's existence, Slytherin couldn't even touch the shadow of the House Cup during Evans's first two years at school.

After all, entering the Forbidden Forest at least three times a week and losing massive points each time. No amount of academic excellence would be enough to compensate for such losses.

But starting from third year, when his unauthorized trips into the Forbidden Forest could no longer be caught by the vigilant professors, his superior academic performance and conduct began to show their positive effect.

Except for the seventh year, when that particular incident was really too catastrophic and cost them a staggering 100 points, Slytherin's House Cup had always been in an overflowing state. Just the scattered gems alone would be enough to fill the other houses' hourglasses completely.

Regarding this particular student, he truly harbored mixed feelings of love and hate.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Professor, after I left, Slytherin's House Cup points clearly dropped quite a bit?"

Perhaps noticing his contemplative gaze, the young man suddenly transformed into a brilliant silver-white arc of light, appearing beside him and casually putting an arm around his shoulders.

"How about it? Do you miss the days when I was still wreaking havoc at school?"

Looking at the familiar hand resting on his shoulder, Snape's expression turned gloomy once again. He swatted away Evans's palm with obvious irritation and squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth.

"Not one bit!"

Heh, love and hate. Where's the love! He couldn't see any at all!

Hearing the enthusiastic cheers coming from the Slytherin table, Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat among the dejected Gryffindor students and couldn't help but sigh deeply.

Professor McGonagall hadn't actually deducted the threatened 50 points from each of them that day but had still symbolically taken 10 points from each as punishment for putting themselves in such terrible danger.

Although even adding those 30 points back, Gryffindor still didn't have nearly as many points as Slytherin, this still left the three of them quite dejected about their house's prospects.

"Don't be too discouraged about it. It's been Slytherin for so many consecutive years that everyone's actually gotten used to it."

Patting Harry's shoulder reassuringly, Wood softly attempted to comfort them, but the three young wizards remained downcast without any noticeable improvement.

Shaking his head with a resigned sigh, Wood was about to offer a few more encouraging words when two figures with fiery red hair squeezed over, with Fred wearing a peculiar pure black cloak.

"Why are you hanging your heads like defeated warriors? Cheer up!"

"Right, it's just one year's House Cup! We'll win it back triumphantly next year!"

"Come on, I'll have Little Cloak do something entertaining for you!"

Saying this with theatrical flair, Fred grabbed the corners of the mysterious cloak behind him. Streams of black shadows shot out from his body, then directly enveloped his entire form, turning him completely black with only his two eyes rolling around comically, looking quite amusing.

"Hey! I told you to entertain them! Not transform me!"

"Hahahaha!"

The previously somewhat gloomy Gryffindor students around them couldn't help but laugh out loud at the ridiculous sight. With the Weasley twins' characteristic antics, although the three still hung their heads, their mood wasn't quite so devastatingly low anymore.

Silently withdrawing his hand, Wood looked at the palm he had just used to pat Harry's shoulder.

Now it was his turn to feel deeply conflicted.

No, why do my attempts at comfort never work properly?

Could I really not be human?

At the Slytherin table, Malfoy sat comfortably between Crabbe and Goyle, sporting slight dark circles under his eyes as he looked at Slytherin's overflowing House Cup, then at Harry hanging his head dejectedly in the distance. His gray eyes were full of victorious joy.

From academic grades to House points, he had completely crushed Potter! If only he could participate in Quidditch, he would definitely prevent Gryffindor from winning that championship too.

But this triumph was already more than enough.

The corners of Malfoy's mouth curved up slightly with satisfaction.

So this was how genuinely pleasant an honest victory could feel!

Potter, oh Potter, when you rejected my offered friendship on the train that day, did you ever imagine such a humiliating ending?

The pleasure in his eyes gradually deepened as Malfoy began laughing happily, his triumphant grin growing wider and wider.

But just as his emotions were about to reach their absolute peak, an aged voice tinged with some mischievous playfulness rang out clearly in the Great Hall.

"Another year has passed, but before we indulge in the final feast before the holidays, I must trouble everyone to listen to an old man's admittedly clichéd speech..."

Dumbledore stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, delivering his traditional speech. He first praised Slytherin's impressive point total, skillfully stirring up the emotions of those proud Slytherin students.

Then he smoothly changed direction and began his series of point additions that could only be called blatantly rigged.

"First, Mr. Ron Weasley..."

Watching the decorations around them magically change from silver and green to bright red and gold, recalling Dumbledore's transparently manufactured reasons for awarding points to Gryffindor, Evans crossed his arms and pursed his lips with obvious helplessness.

Too deliberate. Old Dumbledore took bribes, didn't he? He's not even bothering to find believable excuses anymore!

Completely rigged!

With his method of hiding the Philosopher's Stone, that wasn't even a proper safe. It was practically a magical containment device!

Even without these children's intervention, that stone wouldn't have been lost. He's just forcing these point additions?

Could he be feeling guilty about using those children as unwitting experimental subjects?

Hearing the wave-like cheers erupting from the Gryffindor table and watching his dear Head of House clearly annoyed inside but still having to maintain an awkward smile while stepping forward to shake hands with the triumphant Professor McGonagall, Evans sighed softly.

Sigh, this Hogwarts absolutely reeked of corruption. Relationships and social politics formed a huge web that left a pure and kind professor like himself unable to breathe.

Fortunately, he would be departing to France tomorrow, where he could finally smell France's sweet, uncorrupted air.

Beauxbatons was still the best. Beautiful scenery, a pleasant climate, and a gentle, intellectual half-giant headmistress, not like the current scheming old turnip head.

What? I'm a Hogwarts student? And a Hogwarts professor too?

Don't slander me! We're not close! I'm cutting all ties!

Tsk tsk tsk, the big bat's face looks absolutely terrible.

Looking at Snape, who had just returned to his side, pale with barely contained anger but unable to make a scene due to his professional position, Evans felt that as Professor Snape's most outstanding former student, he had a sacred duty to help the professor vent his bottled-up emotions.

Thinking this way, Evans reached out again and casually put his arm around Snape's rigid neck.

"Sigh, Professor, if you want to cry, just cry openly. After I go to France tomorrow, you won't even have a shoulder to lean on."

Clearly, this particular method of emotional release was very effective.

Snape, who was already seething with anger, heard these mocking words and could no longer contain his explosive rage, letting out a low, dangerous roar.

"Get lost!"