The air was still buzzing with excitement as students streamed back toward the castle, their cheers echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard. The scarlet and gold banners of Gryffindor fluttered proudly in the cool breeze, and somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of the Weasley twins’ laughter carried over the chatter of the crowd.

Fred had his arm slung around George’s shoulders, both of them still flushed from celebrating Gryffindor’s victory. Harry, a few steps ahead, held the Golden Snitch in his hand, grinning sheepishly as Ron clapped him on the back for the hundredth time. Hermione walked beside them, beaming with pride despite rolling her eyes at the twins’ antics.

When they turned the corner near the entrance to the dungeons, Fred’s sharp eyes caught sight of someone standing by the archway — you. Cloaked in green and silver, a small Slytherin emblem glinting on your robes.

Fred’s grin widened immediately. “Well well,” he said, slowing his steps as he nudged George. “How do you like it when your house loses?”

George chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Sucks, doesn’t it?” he added, his tone full of teasing triumph as the two exchanged smug, playful looks.

Behind them, Ron stifled a laugh, and Hermione gave an exasperated sigh — though even she couldn’t quite hide her smile. The flickering torchlight painted warm gold over the scarlet-clad Gryffindors and the cool shadow where the Slytherin stood, the moment hanging between rivalry and jest, just another page in the long-standing Hogwarts feud.