The final day at Hogwarts—a time when students can finally relax and spend hours with friends, or make a last-minute attempt to fix their yearly grades.
Victor headed down to breakfast in high spirits. His entire faction was buzzing with anticipation today; they couldn't wait for the evening and their already traditional farewell party.
Upon entering the Great Hall, Victor suddenly froze. His head turned dangerously toward the Gryffindor table. Despite the blindfold, Colin Creevey distinctly felt his heavy, piercing gaze. Standing up quickly, Colin walked over to Victor himself.
— Is it ready? — Victor asked curtly.
Colin hesitated, nervously fidgeting with his fingers:
— Hermione... she confiscated the photo.
Victor tilted his head to the side slowly.
— I am very disappointed in you, Colin. But fine, I will deal with that girl later. You may go.
Colin nodded hastily and practically sprinted back to his seat.
Victor sighed and, instead of walking over to the Slytherin table, headed toward Ravenclaw with a smile. He unceremoniously squeezed onto the bench between Adele and Luna.
— Bon appétit!
Adele offered no reply, continuing to pick at her plate, while Luna gave him a radiant smile in return:
— Thank you!
Victor reached for an appetizing cupcake, casually noting:
— I heard you lost to Daphne and Hermione?
His sister shot him an icy glare and let out a loud huff. Victor turned to Luna.
— Yes, we were utterly crushed! — Luna admitted, pouting. — Daphne blasted me back so hard, it hurt a lot.
— That's only because you kept getting distracted. If it weren't for that, we would never have lost, — Adele grumbled.
— Ha-ha-ha! Well, there's no shame in losing if the opponent was worthy.
Luna nodded vigorously:
— Yes, they were simply better than us!
Adele snapped her eyes over to her friend:
— They are not better. They just have more experience.
Victor nodded in agreement:
— They spar with each other constantly in the Club. I told you before: knowing a spell is one thing, but knowing how to use it effectively in combat is something else entirely.
Adele rolled her eyes:
— And how am I supposed to train with someone who always has her head in the clouds?
Victor laughed and gently patted Luna on the head. She giggled happily, narrowing her eyes with pleasure.
— Well, you could always ask my dear Hermione or Daphne to keep you company in a spar.
Adele froze. A strange, terrifying smile crept onto her lips.
— Ask your "girlfriends," is it? — Her hand twitched, and she slammed a fork hard into the wooden table, a mere millimeter from Victor's fingers. The smile still shone on her face, but her eyes remained dead. The nearby Ravenclaws flinched and slid away.
Victor, without losing his composure, pulled the fork out of the tabletop with a slight effort.
— Listen, did your parents definitely not have any other children besides you?
Adele frowned, missing the point:
— No. Why?
— It's just that you look way too much like me. So I thought—are we actually related by blood? — He nonchalantly set the fork on the table. — Alright then, since you don't want to train with them, I'll be your opponent myself. Just remind me of it when we get home, because I have so much on my mind I might forget.
Victor gently kissed his sister on the temple.
— And don't forget to stop by the Slytherin common room tonight for the party.
Victor rose from his seat and headed straight for the Gryffindor table. There, under the bewildered stares of Ron and Harry, he leaned down and hugged Hermione, whispering something into her ear in a low, insinuating voice. Hermione flushed instantly, desperately trying to pry away his hands, which were unceremoniously wandering around her waist at that moment.
Finished speaking, Victor kissed her crimson cheek in full view of the entire table and, wasting no time, walked away. Hermione, completely mortified by such public intimacy, hid her burning face in her hands. A moment later, however, it was as if she caught an electric shock; she frowned and quickly checked her robes' pocket.
— Hey! Give that back right now! — she shouted at his retreating back, leaping to her feet.
Victor didn't even think of stopping. He merely turned around on the move, playfully waved the photo clamped between his fingers, and blew Hermione a kiss before vanishing through the doors of the Great Hall.
In the evening, while the rest of the Hogwarts students gathered for dinner in the Great Hall, the members of Victor's faction—already slightly buzzed with the anticipation of the holiday—gradually trickled toward their hall.
The other Slytherins who hadn't left for dinner yet watched them with unconcealed curiosity. When Hermione arrived, she immediately ran into Daphne. The girls barely had time to exchange a few words before the heavy door of the common room swung open again, letting in Adele and Luna. An invisible spark instantly flared among the four girls, escalating into a cold battle of stares. The silence became almost palpable. Finally, without uttering a word, they entered the hall one after another.
Victor's hall had been transformed beyond recognition. Long oak tables loaded with appetizers stretched along the walls. In the corner stood his magical speaker, playing music softly. Massive disco balls drifted lazily above the guests' heads, scattering multicolored glints across the room.
The walls were decorated with living garlands of silver ivy that softly sang along with the music, while tiny magical fireworks floated beneath the ceiling—they exploded with quiet pops, turning into constellations and house crests.
An enormous display board held center stage. It was covered with hundreds of photographs taken at the beginning of the year: in them, carefree kids waved their hands, laughed, and hugged on the Hogwarts grounds. Nearby, on a separate table, copies of these prints lay in neat stacks. Anyone could walk up and take a piece of their shared memories.
When nearly all the guests had assembled, the solemn vaults of the hall shook to the sounds of a powerful march. The doors burst open, and the graduates walked in. Unlike the younger years, they had swapped their usual robes for sharp suits and luxurious evening gowns. Alice Penrose, who adored Muggle fashion, watched with overt delight as her finest works—the fruits of sleepless nights—sat perfectly on the senior students.
Victor, standing elevated on the podium, clapped his hands three times quietly, and the music instantly died down, obeying his gesture.
— Tonight is the last evening we stand here in this formation, — Victor's voice carried through the absolute silence. — For most, it's just the end of another year, but for our older brothers and sisters, it is a threshold beyond which real life begins.
He paused, gesturing toward the massive display.
— Right there is captured a day when we enjoyed ourselves to our hearts' content together. Yes, there we are, laughing happily. I understand it isn't always like that: in some places we are angry, and in others—we frankly despise one another. Perhaps right now, some of you are in the middle of a row. But that is exactly what makes us a family. A family isn't made up of people who always smile back at you. It is made up of those who know your worst side, but stay by your side anyway. — He turned to his sister with a smile. — Leaving these walls, you take a piece of us with you. And I want you to remember: wherever you find yourselves, you will never be alone. As long as we remember days like the ones captured in these photos, we remain a single whole.
Following his speech, the room's reaction was intense, but not at all what Victor expected to see. Instead of joyful cheers and clinking goblets, a heavy, resolute silence fell over the crowd.
— Hey, what's with the sour faces? — Victor raised his eyebrows in surprise. — Why so sluggish? Was my speech really that boring?
The hall froze until George took a step forward, moving into the center of the circle.
— Victor, I don't give a damn who comes for you tomorrow, — the boy's voice trembled with rage. — I swear I will destroy anyone who dares touch you. Even if it's Voldemort himself.
Victor went still, tracing the gold Ouroboros bracelet on his wrist.
— What? George, have you managed to get drunk already?
— I completely agree with him, — another boy, a graduate, stepped forward. — We aren't idiots, Victor. First, someone sends you threatening letters, then the papers suddenly claim the train will be escorted by Aurors under the guise of a "training exercise." We understand that you've become a target.
— I'll fight too!
— And me!
The hall erupted with the shouts of enraged Slytherins. At that moment, they weren't just school children—they were a unified force, ready to tear anyone apart for their leader.
Victor listened to them, slowly shaking his head.
— Heavens... what absolute fools you all are... — he whispered. — I am so glad... that... that...
He suddenly buried his face in his hands. His shoulders began to tremble slightly. A deathly silence fell over the hall; the students froze, unable to believe their eyes. Had their unshakeable leader just broken down and started crying?
But sympathy quickly turned to a chill creeping down the spines of those present. They began to realize that the sounds coming from beneath Victor's palms were not sobs. It was laughter. Hoarse, insane, and terrifying.
Victor snapped his hands away from his face. In the blink of an eye, the mask of amusement vanished, replaced by an icy, dead expression.
— Have you all completely lost your minds? — Victor asked in a freezing tone.
The hall became so quiet you could hear nothing but the ragged breathing of the students.
— No, don't get me wrong: I am grateful for your willingness to protect me. But did you ever stop to ask me—do I even need your protection? Someone is trying to kill me, ha! Big news. You little demons, did you think you could get rid of me that easily? Ha-ha-ha, no, I'm going to torment you for at least another four years; escaping me is only possible by graduating. The fact that you allowed yourselves to doubt me is highly disappointing. Who do you think I am—easy prey? It's not me who should be worried. It's those who crave my head who should shake with terror at the mere mention of my name!
With a sharp movement, Victor ripped off his blindfold. His Sharingan flared with a fierce crimson light, pulsing in the gloom. The magical lighting in the hall began to flicker erratically, adapting to the leader's heavy aura, making his appearance truly frightening. Under the pressure of his gaze, every person present felt an unbearable weight, as if the very air had grown heavy.
— Ever since I stepped across the threshold of this school, I realized: I was born to change this world. I am a new legend. Right now you see me as just a powerful student, but believe me: one day, when I bring the entire wizarding world to its knees, you will pray to me as a new god. Pray... Pray that by then I haven't lost my mind and erased all of existence just for the fun of it. Pray that I stay exactly as I am right now.
The hall stood locked in a stupor. The Slytherins were shivering, but there was no fear on their faces. On the contrary—fanatical adoration, awe, and genuine reverence shone in the eyes of every single one. For them, in that second, Victor had ceased to be human; he had become a higher being sent to conquer this reality. And everyone succumbed to this feeling: Hermione, Daphne, Adele, and even Luna.
It was unknown who shouted his name first, but a chain reaction caught everyone:
— VICTOR! VICTOR! VICTOR!..
The thunderous chanting shook the dungeon walls. Looking at them, Victor finally calmed down a bit. The crimson glow in his eyes faded, and with a practiced motion, he returned the blindfold to its place.
— Alright now, stop spoiling me, or I'll end up completely conceited, — he chuckled. — Now, George, you absolute headache... Are the glasses filled?
George, whose gaze still burned with ecstasy, nodded hastily:
— Yes, a long time ago.
— Well then... — the music blasted their ears at full volume again, — LET THE PARTY BEGIN!
— YEAAAAAH!
Whether due to his final speech or for some other reason, this evening turned out far wilder than the previous year's. In the morning, many students required a sobering potion just to pry their eyes open. Fortunately, Victor had prepared in advance: he and Adele had brewed enough elixirs to supply the entirety of Hogwarts.