Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The Weasleys' financial situation was common knowledge; Mrs. Molly had vowed to buy Ron a brand-new Seven Stars Sweeper if he passed all his subjects. Now, that promise was within reach.

Neville Longbottom's report card was the last to arrive. His hands trembled so badly as he opened the envelope that he nearly tore the parchment in half.

...Herbalism: O (Professor Sprout's note: Extremely talented, recommended to join the advanced herbalism research group)

Potions: E (Professor Snape's note: Great improvement)

Charmsology: E

...

For Neville—a child whose family had worried since childhood that he might be a Squib and who couldn't even use his own wand properly—this was nothing short of a miracle.

But Nave knew that all of this was thanks to Kane.

He cured his parents.

To prevent myself from falling into that endless introversion and darkness.

He stared blankly at the report card, then suddenly buried his face in his arms, his shoulders beginning to shake violently.

"Neville?" Harry asked worriedly.

Neville looked up, his face streaked with tears, but he smiled. "Grandma...Grandma would be so proud of me...She always said she'd be happy as long as I passed...But I got an O...an O in Herbalism..."

Hermione gave him a gentle hug: "You deserve it, Neville. You take better care of those mandrakes than anyone else."

Inside the auditorium, similar scenes played out on various long tables. Some cheered, some sighed, and some had already begun calculating how much homework they would have to catch up on during the summer vacation.

After the initial excitement wore off, someone noticed something was amiss.

"Wait a minute..." Ravenclaw's Terry Boot frowned at the "Year-End Rankings" posted on the Great Hall wall. "First place is Hermione Granger, and second place is... Kane Malfoy?"

This statement is like throwing a pebble into a pond.

The students began to whisper among themselves, their eyes searching the list for the name that should have been at the top.

"He didn't take the exam," a fifth-year Slytherin student explained in a low voice. "I heard it's part of a special curriculum that excludes him from the standardized test rankings."

The whispers in the auditorium gradually coalesced into a buzzing background sound, like countless bees fluttering about in confusion.

Everyone's eyes were repeatedly scanning the huge, still-wet list, from Hermione Granger's name at the top to the very bottom, as if if they looked a few more times, the name that should have been at the top of the pyramid would suddenly appear out of thin air.

"Kane Malfoy...not on it?" Padma Petit of Ravenclaw slid her finger down the list, her voice filled with disbelief.

"He really didn't take the exam?" Hermione also temporarily snapped out of her joy for Neville, subconsciously pushing up her glasses and looking toward the Slytherin table.

There, Draco Malfoy sat upright, his face bearing a complex and indescribable expression—a mixture of self-righteous pride and a subtle pressure from being overshadowed by his brother's brilliance.

"A special curriculum?" Ron Weasley, with a mouthful of syrup pie, mumbled from Gryffindor, "What he's done this year is more intense than any exam."

This statement expresses the sentiments of many people.

The "deeds" of Kane Malfoy during that school year had already been passed down by word of mouth in every corner of the castle, embellished and exaggerated, almost becoming a legend.

When the terrifying shadow of the locked room opening loomed over the entire school, it was he who ultimately resolved the crisis.

Although the professors have obscured the details, there are already more than a dozen versions of the story of "Kane Malfoy and the Basilisk," each of which is enough to make listeners gasp.

In addition, this year he even served as a teaching assistant for Defense Against the Dark Arts as a second-year student—a course that has always been considered highly practical and even somewhat dangerous—and the upperclassmen he mentored, including the troublemakers, all respected him.

“He doesn’t need exams,” a fifth-year Hufflepuff student whispered to his classmate, his voice filled with awe. “Think about what he did…it was way harder than NEWTs (Ultimate Wizarding Exams). Did the exams test how you deal with the Basilisk? How you solve the Azkaban injustice?”

“My dad said,” another student leaned in, lowering his voice, “that some people in the Ministry of Magic have started to take notice of him, calling him ‘once in a century,’ or even… ‘the next Dumbledore.’”

When the name "Dumbledore" was uttered, those around him fell silent for a moment, their gazes turning in awe to the silver-bearded headmaster in the teachers' seat.

Comparing a second-year student to the greatest wizard of our time sounds absurd, but considering what Kane Malfoy has already accomplished, the comparison doesn't seem entirely unfounded.

He demonstrated not only strength, but also a wisdom and decisiveness beyond his years, and... a certain ability to change the established course of events.

However, not everyone expressed pure admiration.

In one corner of the Slytherin table, several upperclassmen huddled together, their eyes sharp and complex. "The next Dumbledore?" a pale-faced seventh-year student sneered, his voice not loud, but loud enough for the nearby Slytherins to hear. "Dumbledore's path isn't necessarily suitable for everyone. Think about it, that kind of talent, that kind of...influence. What if he went in a different direction?"

A girl next to him tapped her fingers lightly on the table and slowly replied, "Power itself has no color; it only depends on who wields it and for what purpose. We Slytherins admire ambition, strength, and the purity and nobility of blood... Doesn't he possess any of these? He even does them better."

She paused, a glint of light flashing in her grey-blue eyes. "Some people fear powerful forces, especially when they don't manifest themselves in the 'gentle' way they expect. But history tells us that those who truly shape an era are often not those who merely follow the rules."

“I heard,” another boy leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper, “that in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, some of the spells he demonstrated… were incredibly effective, even… ancient. Not the kind you’d find in textbooks.”

"The next Voldemort." The words were not explicitly stated, but they hovered like a cold ghost in the exchanged glances and tense silence among the Slytherin students.

For many Slytherins who believe that "might makes right" and whose family history is intricately linked to (or at least not opposed to) the dark magic, the immense potential and unfathomable nature displayed by Kane Malfoy both fills them with pride (after all, he bears the surname Malfoy) and evokes a tremor of awe mixed with a vague sense of anticipation.

He is walking an unprecedented path—powerful, efficient, and unconventional, which is both frightening and... thought-provoking.

The discussions in the auditorium split into several undercurrents.

Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were mostly inclined to marvel at and admire him, regarding him as a heroic genius; Ravenclaws, on the other hand, were keen to analyze and speculate on the contents of his "special teaching program" and his possible future research directions.

Within Slytherin, the emotions were even more complex and divided. In public, they were generally proud that the house had such a "star," but in private, debates about whether he would eventually become the "leader of the white wizards" or the "prototype of the Dark Lord" had already begun to sprout.