End of the School Year

Half an hour later, Hogwarts' Hospital Wing was packed with people. Harry lay in the middle bed, pale-faced but seemingly not badly hurt, aside from the obvious ring of bruising around his neck. Ron sat on the bed beside him with his head wrapped in bandages, while Hermione and Silas, who had wandered over again, stood by the bedside.

Hermione's eyes were wide with disbelief. She looked at Harry, then at Silas beside him, whose expression plainly said, "That's how it happened," and her voice turned shrill with shock:

"Wait... Harry, you mean... you... you slapped The Dark Lord... that Dark Lord whose name can't even be spoken... and then he... died? Or rather, got driven away again? How is that possible?!"

The whole story was simply too absurd and... childish! That was Voldemort! The Dark Lord who terrified the entire wizarding world! How could a first-year student slap him away?

Harry himself looked confused and dazed. He touched his still-aching neck and tried hard to remember. "I... I don't know exactly what happened... He was choking me, pinning me against the mirror. I was scared, and angry... Then... then I think I just... reached out and hit his face... the face on the back of his head... Then he screamed in pain, smoke started coming off him, and then he just... disappeared..."

The description plunged the entire hospital ward into an eerie silence. It did not sound like a magical duel at all. It sounded more like... a Muggle brawl.

At that moment, Silas rubbed his nose and spoke in a tone that was half explanation, half complaint. He pointed at Harry.

"Uh... we don't know the exact details either. Professor Dumbledore arrived afterward and found the scene. According to Old Bee... uh, Professor Dumbledore, it should have something to do with the ancient protective magic on Harry."

He paused, trying to recall Dumbledore's whole theory about "love." "It seems that Harry's mother's sacrifice left a powerful protective spell on him. That spell is extremely effective against a soul like Voldemort's, one filled with hatred and murder... Especially when Voldemort touched Harry himself, with murderous intent, that protective power was triggered... Its manifestation was probably just... well... rather intense?"

Though Silas had put his own spin on it, the general idea was correct. In the end, he shrugged. "So, simply put, it wasn't that Harry's slap was especially powerful. Voldemort just brought it on himself. He insisted on touching a 'high-voltage wire,' got hit by the backlash, and paid for it. Entirely his own fault."

Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths hanging open. It still seemed unbelievable, but if it involved an ancient and powerful protective magic that even Dumbledore acknowledged, then perhaps... it made sense?

Harry lowered his head and stared at his hand, still feeling as though he were dreaming. He had actually... survived Voldemort again this way.

Watching Harry, Silas thought to himself, The protagonist's halo plus the motherly-love cheat really is invincible... Still, Voldemort took a slap and magical backlash this time. He'll probably be weak for quite a while. Good. Things can be peaceful for a bit.

No matter what, the news that Harry Potter had "defeated" Voldemort again, though the process sounded a little ridiculous, was undoubtedly inspiring. Hogwarts had survived another crisis.

End-of-Year Feast, Hogwarts Great Hall

The Great Hall was decorated in Ravenclaw blue and bronze, with enormous banners bearing eagles. Professor Dumbledore stood before the High Table and announced the winner of the House Cup in a booming voice.

"To recognize the extraordinary courage and friendship shown by Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ron Weasley in protecting the Philosopher's Stone, I award one hundred points to each of them!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in deafening cheers, and the rubies in their hourglass surged upward in an instant! Harry and Ron's faces turned as red as their scarves.

However, when Dumbledore announced the final result, Gryffindor's hourglass, though dazzling, still could not compare to the nearly overflowing hourglass of blue gems beside it, belonging to Ravenclaw.

"The winner of this year's House Cup is—Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaw students, along with one light-brown-haired boy who was often absent, burst into enthusiastic applause and cheers as well. Thanks to the enormous number of points Silas Cyril had accumulated through various incidents, especially driving Voldemort back in the Forbidden Forest, for which Dumbledore had awarded two hundred points, he had practically dragged the House Cup back to Ravenclaw Tower by himself.

Hogwarts Express, Journey Home

The train sped through the countryside, and the compartment was filled with a relaxed, cheerful atmosphere. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Silas sat together in one compartment.

Hermione watched the scenery flash past outside the window and sighed regretfully. "Sigh, if only I'd gone with you to the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor... Maybe I could have won a hundred points for the House too." She felt a trace of regret over missing out on the adventure, and the points, because she had been "reasonable."

Harry and Ron were just about to comfort her when the compartment door was suddenly yanked open rudely.

Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway with Crabbe and Goyle, wearing his usual mocking smile. Clearly, he wanted to disgust Harry one last time before going home.

"Potter, I heard you played 'The Boy Who Lived' at school again?" Malfoy drawled. "You got a few points because of Dumbledore's favoritism. Feeling proud? Too bad the House Cup still went to those freaks..."

He had not even finished speaking.

Silas Cyril, who had been leaning against the window and seemed to be dozing, suddenly sprang to his feet without warning! He moved like lightning. Before anyone could react, he raised his hand and viciously slapped Malfoy across the face!

Smack!

The sharp, resounding slap echoed through the compartment!

Malfoy was stunned by the sudden blow. He clutched his face and stared at Silas in disbelief.

Silas's gaze was icy, and his voice was filled with undisguised disgust and irritation:

"Forget the pathetic, 'he had no choice' filter some readers put on you, Draco Malfoy. At your core, you're just a rotten brat spoiled by your parents, someone who bullies the weak and fears the strong, with nothing in your head but pure-blood superiority! Get the fuck out of my sight! Stop being an eyesore!"

Without giving Malfoy time to react, he kicked him in the stomach and sent him flying out of the compartment doorway into the corridor!

Then, without even looking, Silas backhanded Crabbe and Goyle twice with two loud slaps, striking their dull faces with perfect precision as they tried to rush in. The two lackeys saw stars and staggered backward.

The entire thing happened in two or three seconds, so fast it was dizzying.

After dealing with the three Slytherins as if throwing out trash, Silas slammed the compartment door shut and returned to his seat, a trace of hostility still lingering on his face.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at him in shock. The compartment was utterly silent.

Feeling their gazes, Silas took a deep breath, rubbed his brow, and said simply:

"Bad mood."

Then he closed his eyes and began pretending to sleep, as though nothing had happened.

The three exchanged glances and ultimately decided to remain silent. They knew Silas had his reasons whenever he acted, even if his style was unusual. Besides, watching Malfoy get beaten up... was rather satisfying.

The Hogwarts Express carried the students, a trainload of gossip, and the legend left behind by Silas Cyril toward Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The first year, full of surprises, adventures, and countless things to complain about, had finally come to an end.