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At breakfast the following morning, the Great Hall had resumed its usual order, but the previous night's events remained the only topic anyone wanted to discuss.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together. Hermione's eyes were still slightly red and swollen, though she appeared considerably recovered, speaking in a low voice to the two boys.
Harry and Ron listened with expressions that mixed lingering unease with something more serious. The other Gryffindors regarded the three of them with an open mixture of admiration and curiosity.
They had, after all, lost five points and gained ten the previous evening, which by any reasonable accounting was a net gain—and the story attached to it was remarkable.
When Henry entered the Great Hall, he was aware of a number of eyes following him. He walked to his usual place at the centre of the Slytherin table and sat down; Draco, Pansy, and Daphne settled in around him.
"Look at them," Draco murmured to Pansy and Daphne, his gaze moving toward the Gryffindor table. "Apparently last night didn't frighten any sense into them."
"Apparently not," Pansy agreed, pursing her lips. "Though I suppose that is very much in keeping with Gryffindor's reputation."
Henry said nothing. He began peeling a boiled egg.
He did notice, though, that the Slytherins around him had shifted in a way that would have been harder to put into words a few weeks ago.
The sharpest edges of the language had softened, at least in his immediate circle. It was a small thing. It was not nothing.
Halfway through breakfast, Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair.
Professor McGonagall tapped her cup once, with quiet precision.
The Great Hall went silent immediately. Every face turned toward the staff table.
Dumbledore surveyed the room, unhurried, his voice carrying easily to every corner.
"Before we return to our excellent breakfast, please permit me a brief moment." He paused. "I wish first to confirm that last night's incident has been fully resolved and that the castle is safe. Please set your minds at rest on that point. I also wish to express the school's particular gratitude to Professors Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Severus Snape, whose swift and professional response protected every student in this castle."
The professors whose names had been called acknowledged this with small, composed nods. Snape's expression did not change, though his lips pressed together very slightly.
"Second," Dumbledore continued, his gaze making a slow circuit of the four House tables, "in the midst of last night's chaos, two students demonstrated a quality of composure, attentiveness, and sense of responsibility that I believe deserves to be acknowledged before the whole school. These students reported, without hesitation and at no small inconvenience to themselves, the situation of a fellow student who was in danger and isolated—and in doing so, they gave us the time we needed."
A murmur ran through the hall. Many students had already heard something through the castle's many informal channels, but hearing it said plainly by the Headmaster gave it an entirely different weight.
Dumbledore's gaze settled at last on the Slytherin table. More precisely, on Henry.
"In recognition of the compassion and clear judgement demonstrated in a critical moment—judgement that extended beyond the boundaries of House—I award Mr. Henry Wales and Miss Daphne Greengrass twenty points to Slytherin."
The reaction was immediate. Exclamations broke out across all four tables.
The Slytherin table erupted. Draco turned sharply to Henry, his mouth open. Pansy pressed both hands over her own mouth in disbelief, then turned and embraced Daphne outright.
"Twenty points! Now let's see how Gryffindor manages to be so superior about everything! Henry, you were extraordinary—and Daphne, you too!"
The Slytherin students around them, whatever their private opinions had been the night before, wore expressions that ranged from stunned to quietly proud.
This was real credit to the House, announced by the Headmaster personally, in front of every student in the school.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione looked up sharply, her eyes fixed on Henry across the hall.
The surprise on her face was complete and unguarded. It was clear she had not yet known that Dumbledore's timely arrival in that bathroom corridor had been set in motion by this particular Slytherin first-year.
Harry and Ron followed her gaze. Ron's expression was difficult to read. Harry simply looked curious.
At the Hufflepuff table, Justin sat up very straight and gave Ernie and Zacharias on either side of him a satisfied pat on the arm. "I told both of you," he said, with considerable conviction. "A man of genuine character."
Henry received Dumbledore's nod with a quiet one of his own. The Headmaster smiled and gestured for everyone to continue eating.
For the remainder of breakfast, Henry was the centre of more attention than he typically sought. Younger students in particular cast admiring looks in his direction, and several bolder ones came over to offer their congratulations.
He received all of it without embarrassment and without excessive modesty. To each person who came to congratulate him, he said simply that it had been a joint effort—and, consistently, he turned toward Daphne and made certain she was acknowledged. "Miss Greengrass's observation was the crucial part," he said, more than once.
This was accurate, and Daphne knew it, and the way he said it managed to be both genuine and generous at once.
After breakfast, as Henry was walking with Draco and the others toward their next class, a voice rang out from a turning in the corridor ahead.
"Your Highness Henry! Please wait!"
Hermione was already striding toward them, her expression set and purposeful, with Harry and Ron following somewhat less certainly behind her.
Her cheeks were faintly flushed, though her eyes were entirely steady. She was still in her robes, a neatly pressed grey sweater visible at the collar, her hair its usual untamed self.
Harry looked mildly uncomfortable. Ron had both hands in his pockets and had apparently found something of great interest in the suit of armour beside him, though his ears were clearly oriented toward the conversation.
Students passing in both directions slowed without meaning to. A public exchange between the first-years of Slytherin and Gryffindor was the sort of thing nobody wanted to miss the beginning of.
Draco lifted his chin immediately, his posture closing slightly. Pansy studied Hermione with sharp, undisguised curiosity.
Daphne reached up and touched Henry's sleeve, her fingers light, a small note of nerves in the gesture.
Henry stopped and turned toward Hermione.
"Miss Granger," he said, his tone easy and unhurried. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Hermione came to a stop in front of him, drew a breath, and squared herself. Her voice, when it came, was not quite steady, but it was entirely sincere.
"Your Highness, I came to formally thank you and Miss Greengrass." She glanced at Daphne, who gave a small, composed nod in acknowledgement. "I only learned this morning what Professor Dumbledore said—that it was you who reported my situation last night. If you hadn't, the Headmaster might not have found me in time. I—"
Her voice caught slightly. She steadied herself.
"In short: thank you. Both of you. Very sincerely."
She bowed at a precise ninety degrees and held it.