Chapter 40: "Bloody Hell! What's Happened to Hogwarts?!"

Chapter 40: "Bloody Hell! What's Happened to Hogwarts?!"

November arrived, bringing with it a bitter cold. The mountains surrounding Hogwarts were capped with ice and snow, and the lake froze solid. Every morning, Leon cursed the wretched weather as he got out of bed.

Life had settled into a relatively calm routine, much the same as before. The only real difference was the addition of three small shadows who now followed him almost everywhere after classes. However, after Ron's desperate pleading, Leon had given up his usual front-row seat. Hermione had initially been annoyed, but after realizing that the professors still preferred calling on Leon even when she sat right under their noses, she'd stopped insisting on sitting at the front as well.

The Daily Prophet article about Harry and the troll had been published. Leon had read it, of course. Rita Skeeter's writing was undeniably top-notch; she'd spun the tale of Harry's battle with the troll into a thrilling epic.

However, the article hadn't caused much of a stir. Most people simply read it, nodded, said "That's Harry Potter for you," and didn't think much more of it. Leon wasn't surprised. Harry already had a reputation – the boy who defeated Voldemort taking down a single troll wasn't exactly earth-shattering news.

But it was a good start. It proved one thing: although The Boy Who Lived had been hidden away for ten years, most people still believed he was inherently special.

The other point of interest was the start of the Quidditch season. Harry, the future face of the Peaky Blinders, had inherited his father's talent and made the Gryffindor team as their new Seeker. He had been worried that Leon, as head of the Peaky Blinders, might join the Slytherin team, potentially forcing them to compete against each other.

Fortunately, while Leon was a decent flyer, he had absolutely no interest in the sport. (When the Slytherin Quidditch captain had approached him, Leon had claimed to have a crippling fear of heights.)

And so, on Saturday afternoon, Harry was set to make his Quidditch debut in the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Leon had promised he would be there.

Instead of heading to the library as usual, Leon made his way to the Quidditch pitch.

Sitting in the Slytherin stands, Leon noted the excitement of the students around him. They had come prepared, unfurling a massive banner depicting a coiled silver serpent. Dressed uniformly in green robes, they were already roaring chants for their House, even though the match hadn't started.

Listening to the thunderous cheers, Leon gave a subtle nod of approval. The original story, told from Harry's perspective, naturally favoured Gryffindor and often portrayed Slytherin in a poor light. But Slytherin did possess certain admirable qualities. Their pride, their refusal to accept defeat, often forged a fierce unity.

And sometimes, in pursuit of victory, Slytherins were willing to employ... less conventional methods. (And, Leon suspected, they rather enjoyed it.)

Take today's match, for example. Even Malfoy was enthusiastically helping hold the banner, doing his part.

Finally, amidst a chorus of Slytherin jeers directed at the Gryffindors, the match began. The two teams walked onto the pitch. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, served as referee.

Leon saw Harry wave at him from the pitch and returned the gesture with a small nod. The Slytherins around Leon, however, interpreted Harry's wave as a provocation and immediately started shouting, "Knock that Seeker off his broom!"

"..." Leon remained silent.

Soon, the match was underway. Fifteen brooms shot into the air. Amidst the screams and cheers of the crowd, Gryffindor scored the first goal through a clever piece of teamwork. A brief silence fell over the Slytherin stands, followed by even louder, more ferocious cheering. They weren't discouraged; they were demanding their team retaliate, shouting insults and encouragement in equal measure. These normally haughty young lords and ladies were screaming like fishwives, berating their own players until Slytherin finally scored, tying the game.

"..." Leon learned several new creative insults.

The match continued, a furious back-and-forth. The score remained close. It would come down to the Seekers.

All eyes turned to Harry and the Slytherin Seeker. Leon watched Harry closely.

Suddenly, Harry's broom began to buck and shake violently. He clung on desperately as the crowd gasped.

Leon glanced towards the staff box. Sure enough, Snape was leaning forward, his lips moving rapidly in a counter-jinx. On the other side, Quirrell had his head bowed, his turban obscuring his mouth. Further along, Hermione was sneaking towards the professors, her face grim.

Well, Leon thought. This is certainly... dramatic. He watched the unfolding scene with detached amusement. Even if Hermione failed, he had a backup plan.

Fortunately, just like in the original story, Hermione succeeded in setting Snape's robes on fire, inadvertently breaking Quirrell's concentration and the jinx. Harry immediately seized the opportunity, diving downwards and snatching the Golden Snitch from the air.

The match was over. Gryffindor had won, thanks to Harry's spectacular catch.

The Gryffindor stands erupted in pandemonium. In stark contrast, the Slytherin side fell into a dead, stunned silence.

Only Leon stood up politely and applauded his rival's impressive performance, earning glares from his housemates.

Regardless, the match was finished. The Slytherins began filing out, their faces dark, clearly unwilling to stick around for the Gryffindor celebrations.

Leon gave Harry a distant thumbs-up across the pitch, then turned and headed back towards the castle.

By the time he reached the Slytherin common room, it was already dark outside. The atmosphere inside was heavy and oppressive. The Slytherins were slumped in chairs, nursing their wounded pride, furious about losing to Gryffindor.

Leon observed them for a moment, then slipped out and returned shortly after, carrying several crates. He caught Malfoy's eye and crooked a finger.

Draco clearly wanted to refuse, but his father's recent letter had explicitly ordered him to stay on Shelby's good side. So, the young lord swallowed his pride.

Leon whispered instructions in his ear. A few moments later, Malfoy, looking utterly miserable, began distributing bottles of beer from the crates to the sullen Slytherins.

As the beer flowed, the mood began to lighten slightly. The students started venting their frustrations, loudly complaining about everything from the Quidditch loss to the amount of homework. Someone grumbled about the food, someone else about the team's performance, the curfew, the drafty classrooms...

Leon took a small sip of his beer, quietly observing the shifting atmosphere.

All the elements were in place. It was time for a little speech.

He drew his wand, touched it to his throat, and muttered, "Sonorus." His voice boomed through the common room, instantly silencing everyone.

"Do you know how many classes we have a week?"

"Thirteen!"

"I hear the History of Magic curriculum hasn't changed in over a hundred years!"

"And Defence Against the Dark Arts? That bloody professor couldn't even handle a single troll!"

"Are these lessons, these wastes of our lives, even necessary?!"

He paused, letting the anger build. Then, his voice filled with contempt, he delivered the final line.

"Bloody hell! What's happened to Hogwarts?!"