Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Soon, under the guidance of Headmaster Dumbledore, everyone arrived at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Dumbledore wore an unreadable expression, while Professor Sprout looked visibly anxious. Ilona, on the other hand, was brimming with curiosity.

When Dumbledore opened the door to the Hufflepuff common room, a cacophony of voices flooded out.

"Wentworth, you're such a clever one! How did you even come up with this?"

"Wentworth, as a fellow first-year Hufflepuff, I must say—you're the strongest among us!"

"Wentworth, is it true you can make even more Muggle dishes?"

"Yes, Senior, if I'd known we'd have such a gathering, I would've made dumplings!"

Hearing Wentworth's voice and the lively chatter inside, Ilona's lips curled into a slight smile.

"Dumplings? Could they really be that delicious? Perhaps tonight, you'd like to bring some to my dormitory…"

"Ahem!"

At that, both Dumbledore and Ilona coughed simultaneously. Dumbledore cast a glance at Ilona but said nothing further, stepping into the common room.

The moment Dumbledore and the professors entered, the previously boisterous Hufflepuff common room fell into an eerie silence.

Everyone held small bowls in their hands, their mouths stuffed with meat. They stared, wide-eyed and frozen, at the entrance. Some had their cheeks puffed up like startled chipmunks.

"What on earth are you lot doing?!"

The first to break the silence wasn't Headmaster Dumbledore, but instead Professor Snape, the Potions Master of Hogwarts.

Snape stormed into the group of students, his eyes darting between them. Each sat before a cauldron—not bubbling with potions, but brimming with meat slices, lettuce, potatoes, and an assortment of ingredients. No two cauldrons appeared to hold the same concoction.

Snape's gaze swept over the cauldrons, and his anger visibly mounted. His already dark expression now seemed ominous enough to drip venom.

"These cauldrons are essential tools for your Potions classes—indispensable to any future potion-maker! To a skilled potioneer, a cauldron is as dear as a lifelong friend! And yet, you're using them… to cook food?!"

"Who came up with this idea? Speak!"

Snape roared. As his gaze moved from one Hufflepuff student to the next, each quickly lowered their head, but no one confessed to being the instigator.

Wentworth, initially intending to raise his hand, hesitated. He knew that although Snape's exterior was fearsome, he wasn't truly malevolent.

However, just as Wentworth began to lift his hand, Cedric Diggory grabbed it firmly. Turning to Cedric, Wentworth saw him shake his head slightly.

Though subtle, the action didn't escape Snape's keen eye. A seasoned duelist, even among Death Eaters, Snape had sharp instincts.

Fixing his eyes on Wentworth, Snape approached slowly and said, "If someone steps forward now to admit their actions, I will punish only that individual. But if no one speaks up, I will punish the entire Hufflepuff house!"

Hearing this, Wentworth couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh and began to raise his other hand.

Before he could lift it halfway, however, another hand caught his. Turning, Wentworth saw that it was Kirk, the Hufflepuff prefect.

This gesture was enough to make Snape laugh in disbelief, his irritation turning into outright exasperation.

"Mr. Wentworth, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

This time, Snape directly addressed Wentworth by name.

"Apologies, Professor. This was my idea. I take full responsibility for my actions."

As Wentworth admitted fault without hesitation, Snape's voice grew cold and deliberate.

"Very well. Since you've confessed, I—"

Before Snape could finish, Cedric stepped forward.

"Professor Snape, I believe this matter is my responsibility. The hotpot was something Wentworth prepared for me to enjoy."

Cedric's sudden admission caught Snape off guard. Rarely did students step forward to claim blame, let alone volunteer for it. His already dark expression turned several shades darker.

But the surprises weren't over. Kirk, the Hufflepuff prefect, also stepped forward.

"I believe this incident is on me, Professor. As prefect, I should have stopped them, but instead, I got completely carried away with the hotpot. It's just too delicious! Besides, this hotpot gathering was organized under my direction, so the fault lies with me!"

As Kirk spoke, more Hufflepuff students began to stand, surrounding Snape and claiming responsibility.

"This is my fault! We were supposed to report back to Kirk, but the hotpot smelled so good we forgot!"

"No, it's on me! As Hufflepuff's female prefect, I shouldn't have accused them of hogging all the food… but it smelled so good, I couldn't resist!"

Snape looked around at the students encircling him, feeling a wave of dizziness. Normally, students avoided him like the plague, yet now, they were surrounding him!

At the back, Professor Sprout watched with pride, her face glowing with satisfaction as she observed her students. Meanwhile, Dumbledore and Ilona kept their gazes fixed on Wentworth, their expressions inscrutable.

"Enough!"

Professor McGonagall's sharp voice cut through the noise. The Hufflepuff students around Snape immediately fell silent.

Striding forward, McGonagall addressed them sternly.

"This is absolutely unacceptable! What are you trying to do, stage a rebellion? When mistakes are made, there must be consequences! Surrounding your professor like this—do you think the school will simply bow to your whims?"

As Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall's authority was undeniable. Her words swiftly silenced the previously defiant Hufflepuff students.

Realizing he had been "mobbed" by students, Snape began trembling with rage. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, McGonagall turned to him and said:

"Still, Professor Snape, a cauldron is merely a tool for students to use. Whether for brewing potions or… cooking, it is their prerogative.

"Of course, it mustn't interfere with future lessons! I suggest a small punishment to remind them of their responsibilities—nothing too drastic. Wouldn't you agree?"

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