The cold morning light had just touched the castle's spire.
Once he regained consciousness, Filch limped into the Headmaster's Office.
His face was covered with thick white bandages, revealing only two red, swollen, and resentful eyes, and a blurry bruise from the sole of a shoe was imprinted on the bridge of his nose.
His left arm was in a sling, and his right leg was wrapped up like a mummy.
As he walked, the stench emanating from him—a mixture of iodine, cat urine, and a stubborn, putrid smell—made even the stone beasts at the entrance sneeze.
If Kayson and his two companions saw this, they would definitely lodge the most serious protest!
The three of them definitely didn't hit me this hard yesterday!
This old man is totally cosplaying Draco!
"Attack! Albus! The worst attack ever!"
Filch's voice, muffled by the bandages, sounded like a broken gong, and spittle sprayed onto Dumbledore's clean table.
"Those three little beasts! They tripped me with clods of dirt! They trampled on me in all sorts of ways! The most vicious one was that little red-haired bitch! She snatched my shoes! My shoes!"
He waved his uninjured right hand excitedly, a few gray cat hairs peeking out from the gaps in the bandages. "Look at my face! Look at my nose! They tried to kill me! Firing me! They have to fire me! Hang me up! Whip me..."
Dumbledore placed his fingers on the table, his blue eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles calmly watching him.
"Calm down, Argus. The sole... well, it's certainly creative, I mean, it's awful." He glanced at the clear bruise on Filch's face from the shoe print.
"What did Madam Pomfrey say about the injuries?"
"Concussion! Fractured nose! And psychological trauma!" Filch slammed his fist on the table, causing Fawkes to shake his feathers in dissatisfaction on the shelf.
"That stench... Pomfrey said he took ten Potions baths and it still wouldn't go away! It's poison! It's..."
"Alright, Argus, this could have been avoided if you had just washed your feet more often," Dumbledore gently interrupted him.
"It's time to punish him. Go back and rest, I'll handle it."
Filch was about to howl when Dumbledore gently waved his hand. A soft yet irresistible force sent him out the door.
From outside came his furious, limping curses and Mrs. Norris's aggrieved meows.
The breakfast Great Hall was bustling again.
The aroma of toasted bread, the sizzling sound of fried eggs, and the steaming milk filled the air.
James Potter, with even messier hair, a swollen left cheek, and a large, bluish bump on his forehead, was silently poking at the sausage on his plate.
Sirius Black's left arm was wrapped in bandages, and he moved with extreme caution. His gray eyes glared at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Table, and he clumsily forked a piece of bacon with his only remaining right hand.
Lupin sat next to the two men, his nose covered with a thick white bandage, his face even paler than yesterday. He sipped his oatmeal porridge, the spoon occasionally making a soft sound as it hit the rim of the bowl.
John Abott sat at the Hufflepuff table, gesturing animatedly to the person next to him, spitting as he recounted the little story Kayson had told them in the dorm the night before, "... Kayson just slapped the floor! Boom! The clod of dirt sprang up! Filch fell pretty hard! And then Snape..."
He didn't finish his sentence.
The light at the entrance to the Great Hall was blocked again.
The parties involved, Kayson, Lily, and Snape, walked in.
The entire Great Hall was filled with a choking atmosphere.
Hundreds of eyes focused instantly.
Kayson was still wearing the same robe, and his face was clean.
Lily held her head high, her green eyes sweeping across the room like a queen surveying her territory, suggesting that yesterday's experience might have awakened some strange or unusual attributes in her.
Snape ...had washed his hair. His dark hair hung down smoothly.
The three of them kept their eyes straight ahead, went to the front of their respective Head of House, picked up their trays, and began to get their food.
Oatmeal porridge, fried eggs, toast, bacon... the movements were so natural, as if he had only stolen a pie from the kitchen last night.
James stopped stabbing the sausage with his fork, and the muscles in his swollen face twitched.
Sirius's bacon fell off his fork, and his grey eyes stared intently at Snape's neatly combed hair and clean robe.
Lupin's spoon paused in mid-air as he watched Lily calmly spread butter on the bread. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he silently lowered his head to continue drinking his porridge.
In the High Table, Professor McGonagall's face was as stern as a stone slab. It wasn't for any other reason than that James, Sirius, and Lupin had arranged a fight with someone in the middle of the night and ultimately lost!
Losing to Lily is fine, losing to Gryffindor is not shameful, but they lost to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff!
This is an utter disgrace! This is the most unforgivable thing!
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
The sound wasn't loud, but it was as if a mute button had been pressed. The entire Great Hall fell into complete silence.
"Mr. Kayson Heath, Miss Lily Evans, Mr. Severus Snape," Dumbledore's gentle voice rang out. "Could you please come to my side after breakfast?"
Under the watchful eyes of hundreds of people, the three of them carried trays piled high with food to the area below the High Table.
Dumbledore blue eyes peered at them through his Half-moon Spectacles. "About last night... well... some unpleasant incidents, Mr. Argus Filch described it to me in detail."
He paused, his voice remaining calm. "Attacking the castle caretaker is a heinous act. Hogwarts ' rules cannot be violated."
He looked at Lily: "Miss Evans, um... well... shoes, as a martial arts piece, are particularly imaginative." Lily pursed her lips and didn't speak.
His gaze shifted to Snape: "Mr. Snape, surprisingly, you've been unusually well-behaved this time, relatively speaking, at least..."
Snape's lips twitched down very slightly.
Finally, looking at Kayson, he said, "Mr. Heath, having the floor... actively attack the administrator sets a rather disturbing precedent."
Dumbledore tapped the table lightly. "Therefore, the punishment is as follows:"
" Gryffindor, deduct fifty points for Miss Lily Evans ' behavior."
The Gryffindor table was deathly silent, and several upperclassmen covered their faces in anguish.
" Ravenclaw, deduct fifty points for Mr. Severus Snape's behavior."
A few suppressed sighs came from the Ravenclaw Table.
" Hufflepuff, 50 points deducted for Mr. Kayson Heath's behavior."
Hufflepuff Table: So what?
"In addition," Dumbledore continued, "Miss Lily Evans and Mr. Snape Snape, for the next week, from seven to nine o'clock every night, go to Professor Slughorn's office for solitary confinement to assist with the processing of Potions ingredients."
Slughorn's chubby face twitched, and he forced a beaming smile.
"Mr. Kayson Heath," Dumbledore's gaze fell on Kayson, "You will be confined to Professor Heath's Alchemy office every night from seven to nine for the next week to assist... um... in organizing experimental materials."
At the far end of the High Table, Professor Heath was slowly and methodically dissecting a syrup pie with a fork when he heard this. He looked up at Dumbledore, "Go through fire and water, Headmaster!"
"Do any of the three of you have any objections to this punishment?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, Professor," Lily's voice was clear and crisp.
"No." Snape's voice was flat.
"Hmm." Kayson shrugged.
"Alright." Dumbledore. "Then, we can eat now."
There will be one more card later.