"No… surely not…"
Wentworth stared at the furious expression on Kirk's face, his disbelief apparent. Although Kirk was a prefect for Hufflepuff, he never carried himself with the typical airs of authority. In fact, he seemed nothing like a traditional prefect at all.
Even after only a few days of knowing him, Kirk struck Wentworth as the playful older brother from next door—always easygoing and fun-loving. So seeing Kirk's expression now left Wentworth baffled.
Cork, noticing the confusion, explained, "Of course it's a big deal! Why wouldn't it be? Take that Slytherin, Waylin, for example. We started Hogwarts together, but he's spent the last five years lording his pureblood status over us, always bullying others. Becoming a prefect for Hufflepuff was my way of taking back what he's stolen from me."
"But I never expected him to become Slytherin's prefect as well! I thought I'd have to let go of my grudge. Yet this morning, you gave me such a delightful surprise! Watching him shoved around in the crowd—it was pure bliss!"
With that, Kirk burst into hearty laughter.
Wentworth chuckled too, about to say something, when the door to the Hufflepuff common room burst open. A breathless student stumbled in, panic written across their face.
"Prefect—Kirk, Prefect Kirk! Waylan is coming this way with a group of Slytherins! They look furious!"
The common room fell silent. Tension filled the air as nervous faces glanced at one another. But after a moment, Kirk stepped forward, rallying his housemates with a confident voice.
"What's there to fear? This is Hufflepuff territory! We outnumber Slytherin by far. If anyone should be worried, it's them! Or have you forgotten what happened this morning? They're the ones who slunk away with their tails between their legs!"
Kirk's words reignited Hufflepuff's morale. The morning's events had forged an unprecedented sense of unity among them.
"Everyone, follow me! Let's see what those little snakes want this time!" Kirk bellowed, gesturing for his housemates to rise.
The Hufflepuffs surged as one, marching behind Kirk toward the common room's exit. As they moved, Kirk leaned toward Wentworth and whispered, "Be careful. You've become Slytherin's least favorite person. If a fight breaks out, they'll definitely target you. Stay sharp, all right?"
Wentworth felt a swell of gratitude at Kirk's concern, though it was quickly tempered by surprise. He found it hard to believe Waylan would dare provoke a large-scale conflict between the houses. From this morning's encounter, it was clear Waylan was more bark than bite.
A few hours earlier, Waylan had just finished his morning class when Professor Snape summoned him to his office.
"Professor, let me explain! This isn't what it looks like—"
Waylan's voice quivered as he entered, desperate to defend himself. But Snape cut him off with a sharp glare.
"Silence. I'll see for myself," Snape snapped.
"Legilimens!"
As Snape sifted through Whelan's memories, his expression grew darker and more severe. When Waylan snapped back to reality, Snape's icy gaze was fixed on him, a look of disdain etched across his face.
Waylan's stomach churned. He knew Snape was disappointed.
"Picking a fight, only to be humiliated and ganged up on in return? And by a first-year no less? Waylan, are you truly a Slytherin? I wonder if the Sorting Hat made a mistake. You'd fit better in Gryffindor—they're all sharper than you! You don't deserve to be in Hogwarts!"
Snape's words struck like a lash, leaving Waylan mortified and wishing he could vanish into the floor.
Gathering his courage, Waylan gritted his teeth and declared, "Professor, I promise to restore Slytherin's honor! That first-year—Wentworth—I won't let him get away with this!"
He turned to leave, but Snape's cold voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Hold it. Did I say you could go?"
Waylan froze, not daring to move as Snape regarded him with a calculating expression.
Though Snape had halted him, the morning's events continued to weigh heavily on the professor. As much as he loathed Waylan's failure, Snape's own pride in Slytherin burned brightly. If outright vengeance against Wentworth wasn't an option, then the solution lay in a legitimate, honorable approach.
After a moment's thought, Snape spoke again.
"Deliver a challenge."
"A… challenge?" Waylan repeated, bewildered.
Snape's expression darkened further as he explained, "Yes. A formal duel. Frame it as an opportunity to foster inter-house friendship. Challenge Hufflepuff to a series of five wizarding duels, one for each year. That way, even if you make a fool of yourself, our upper-year students will guarantee Slytherin's victory."
The plan clicked into place for Waylan, and a grin spread across his face. "Don't worry, Professor! I know Hufflepuff's capabilities inside out after five years together. Victory will be ours!"
With Snape's permission, Waylan left and shared the plan with his fellow Slytherins, who rallied around the idea. United, they marched toward the Hufflepuff common room, determined to claim their honor.
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