Ravenclaw's King

Ravenclaw had truly gone far too long without savoring the honor of winning the House Cup!

In Flitwick's memory, the last time he had seen the Great Hall covered in blue and bronze had been more than a decade ago. The time before that had been only a few years after he returned to Hogwarts as the Charms professor.

This was the third time Flitwick had seen it—during his own seven years as a student at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw had never won the House Cup.

The other Houses applauded as well, paying tribute to the achievement Ravenclaw had earned through the collective efforts of its students.

Amid the harmony, McGonagall and Slughorn's smiles were somewhat forced. It was not that they begrudged Ravenclaw its success, but thinking of the state of their own two Houses this year made it impossible to laugh.

What made their vision go dark even more was that, almost visibly, things would not improve next year... no, not for the next several years, unless the problems of Voldemort and the Death Eaters were completely resolved.

At that moment, Ravenclaw's cheers suddenly gained several voices with a particularly strong presence, and they were immensely infectious.

After shifting from disorder to order, Ravenclaw's cheers had somehow... unified into cheers for "King." The other three Houses were swept along as well, and quite a few people joined in the chant.

The atmosphere immediately became somewhat delicate.

After all, King could also be understood as a king.

Ravenclaw's King... Hogwarts's King.

There were plenty of clever people in Ravenclaw. Though their intelligence took all manner of directions, and they were usually somewhat influenced by emotional thinking, their brains were still working. Nor were there no clever people in the other Houses.

Even some who had initially joined the chanting without thinking