[152] The Serpent's Tooth

"Am I even more handsome today?" As Hall entered the Great Hall the next morning, he noticed more eyes on him than the night before.

He had grown used to being watched since his first year. Let them look. It was not like he would lose anything.

He walked to the Slytherin table and sat down, turning to Draco.

"The Daily Prophet —" Draco did not respond to Hall's joke. His face darkened as he slammed a copy of the newspaper in front of Hall.

Hall sensed something. He picked it up and saw the front-page headline:

A New Lucky Boy Who Survived Disaster — A New Saviour Born?

The headline was exaggerated. The font was oversized. The article was a blatant attempt to piggyback on Harry Potter's fame.

Hall immediately knew the author. Rita Skeeter. That woman truly lived up to her reputation as a special correspondent for the Daily Prophet. Even though she never explicitly stated it, her words dripped with suspicion about Hall winning the champion's title. She portrayed him as a treacherous, scheming manipulator who climbed to power by stepping on the "pitiful" former saviour.

"Actually, ignoring my name, the story is quite well-written," Hall said, shaking the newspaper.

There was a photo of him and Harry on it. Harry looked uneasy, a stark contrast to Hall's shining expression. Hall had to recall the context in which he had made that expression — but that was not the point. The interview with them should have already ended by then. This had happened after.

Hall's face darkened. It seemed his methods had been too gentle. Rita Skeeter dared to be so arrogant.

"Hall, do not be angry!" Draco reached out and patted his shoulder. "I will have my dad find that woman! How dare she publish such inflammatory remarks in the Daily Prophet! Malfoy will make her pay!"

In the latter part of the report, Rita Skeeter mentioned details of the Triwizard Tournament in an even more ambiguous tone. Hall's disappearance and his reappearance with Karkaroff. The process and truth were omitted. She wrote:

"The author reasonably suspects that this ambitious Weasley, through some unknown means, reached an agreement with certain important figures, ultimately resulting in the outcome before us — the Triwizard champion, the hero, a twelve-year-old boy from Hogwarts, Hall Weasley!"

They finished their meal. The Daily Prophet did not affect Hall's mood for the rest of the day. While a small minority across the four houses were inevitably swayed, the majority were intelligent. They would not challenge Hall.

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"Hall, I lost to you this time, but I will not lose to you again next time!" Krum paused before boarding Durmstrang's ship, looking at Hall with undisguised ambition.

Hall maintained a polite smile. "Then I will look forward to it."

Next time? Hall was not sure there would be a next time.

Fleur gave Hall a long look, as if wanting to say something, but she boarded Beauxbatons' carriage without a word.

The two schools departed. The Triwizard Tournament had officially come to an end — well, not quite.

"St Mungo's still has Karkaroff there," Hall said. "No big deal. He will go back on his own once he is better."

"But with the tournament over, the holidays are almost here, right?"

Draco stiffened. "Wait... what did you just say?"

Hall blinked. "What? Holidays?"

"There are exams before the holidays!"

"Exams!" Draco let out a sharp cry.

Hall looked at him with surprise. "No way, Draco, you..."

Final exams. Could anyone really forget about final exams?

Draco swallowed. "I have been busy with the gambling these past few days, and before I knew it..."

Hall understood. Simply put, Draco was so caught up in making money that he forgot he was still a student.

"Draco, put making money aside for now." Hall patted him on the shoulder. "You do not want your parents to know you are not studying hard, do you?"

Draco's face went pale. Then Hall realised — this was not an isolated incident.

"Wait? Hall, what did you say? Final exams? What final exams?" Ron's eyes went wide, filled with the pure cluelessness of someone who had retained nothing.

Harry, standing next to Ron, did not look much better. He swayed as if he had heard some unbearable weight.

"But the Triwizard Tournament..." Harry opened his beautiful green eyes, looking at Hall with pleading.

"Champions get their exams postponed by a week," Hall said. "But you still have to finish them before you can leave."

He sincerely suggested they ask Hermione for tutoring. Harry and Ron's faces turned even paler. They could already hear the nagging voice of the academic superstar.

Speak of Hermione, there she was. She appeared carrying a thick Potions book.

"I warned you a month ago, but you did not listen," she said. "However, there is still a week until final exams. If you spend six hours a day in the library, your grades can still be salvaged."

"Six hours a day is too much —" Harry started.

"No! I cannot!" Ron jumped up.

"Hermione, I..." Harry looked at Ron, then at himself. A strange sense of smug satisfaction welled up inside him.

"If Harry wants, he gets two weeks where he can reduce his time," Hermione nodded. Then she looked sharply at Ron. "You cannot! Unless you want to go home with a failing grade!"

Ron looked at Hall with pleading eyes.

Hall stepped forward, patted Ron on the shoulder, then, under Ron's expectant gaze, said: "B+. Maybe Ron can even aim for an A next year."

Ron's red hair practically stood on end. "Hall! You cannot do this to me!"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Hall, I think you are right. We can give it a try."

She ignored Ron's resistance, gave Harry a look, and the two of them dragged Ron towards the library.

"Brother, from the moment you chose to ask Hall for help, you made a mistake," Harry whispered in Ron's ear. Before Ron could answer, Harry straightened up. He absolutely refused to spend six hours in the library like Ron.

Hall watched them leave, dusted off his robes, and walked towards Sirius's office.