Not long after, the end-of-year exams arrived — though for Wang Yong, they posed little challenge.
Professor Flitwick had them enter the classroom one by one to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk.
Professor McGonagall examined how well they could transfigure a rat into a snuffbox — the more ornate the box, the higher the score; if a whisker remained on it, points were deducted.
For Potions, they had to brew a Forgetfulness Potion — something Wang Yong had already mastered before even setting foot in Hogwarts. So, it was all rather easy for him.
After finishing his final exam, History of Magic, and confidently naming the ancient wizards who invented self-stirring cauldrons, Wang Yong finally relaxed.
He had always been fascinated by magical history — for a former Muggle, the evolution of magic was something he pursued with heartfelt passion.
With classes over, Wang Yong and Susan spent most of their time together, often lounging by the lake watching the giant squid bask in the shallows. Wang Yong had come to treasure these moments with Susan — he knew it would be at least another six months before he could return to this world.
As for Voldemort and the matter of the fake Philosopher's Stone — that was no longer his concern.
A few days later, the school was abuzz with rumors: Harry, Ron, and Hermione had stopped Voldemort from seizing the Stone. Word was, Harry had collapsed and was now recovering in the hospital wing.
Inside the ward, Harry Potter was speaking with Dumbledore about the Stone.
"It's not the Stone I'm worried about, my boy," said Dumbledore gently. "It's you. You nearly lost your life to protect it. In that terrible moment, I was terrified we had lost you.
As for the Stone… it's gone."
"Gone?" Harry repeated, stunned.
"Yes," Dumbledore's tone turned solemn. Something had clearly slipped beyond even his control. "Remember when you and Hagrid returned from Gringotts? Hagrid chased after a cloaked stranger that day — do you recall?"
"That time?" Harry blinked. "But Hagrid, he…"
"He didn't know. We had no other choice if we wanted to lure Voldemort into our trap."
Harry leaned back on his pillows, exhausted. He had risked everything, nearly died — and in the end, it was all for a decoy. What was the point of it all?
Luckily, Harry was still rather naïve, and he trusted Dumbledore completely. The old headmaster soon smoothed things over with a heartfelt speech about Harry's courage and how this was only the beginning of the greater struggle ahead.
But Harry still remembered to ask, "Who took the real Stone?"
Dumbledore gazed out at the golden sunset through the window and sighed.
"I don't know. I only hope the magical world never sees another Dark Lord. One was more than enough."
Then he added, "Now, no more questions. I suggest you enjoy these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I was most unfortunate in my youth — once got a vomit-flavoured one, and ever since, I've been rather wary.
Still, surely a toffee-flavoured one is safe, wouldn't you say?"
He popped a golden-brown bean into his mouth, and immediately choked.
"Ugh! Earwax!" he coughed.
When Harry emerged from the hospital to join the end-of-year feast, the Great Hall was decked out in Ravenclaw's blue and bronze — celebrating their first House Cup victory in ten years. Behind the staff table hung a massive banner emblazoned with the Ravenclaw eagle.
Wang Yong sat at the Ravenclaw table, waiting for Dumbledore to speak.
Thanks to his outstanding academic performance, and with Harry absent from Quidditch, Ravenclaw had crushed Gryffindor this season. They'd already secured the Quidditch Cup — and the added points helped them finally end Slytherin's six-year reign over the House Cup.
Ravenclaw's victory sent waves of euphoria through the house. Even students from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor didn't seem too disappointed — Slytherin had dominated the Cup too long, and wasn't exactly well-liked.
Soon, Dumbledore arrived. The chatter died down as he took the stage.
"Another year gone!" he said cheerfully. "Before we indulge in this splendid feast, I must ask you to indulge an old man's sentimental ramblings."
"It's been a truly remarkable year. I dare say your minds are all a little fuller now… and the summer holiday awaits to help you digest it all. But first! The House Cup.
Here are the final scores:
In fourth place, Gryffindor — 312 points.
Third, Hufflepuff — 352 points.
Second, Slytherin — 472 points.
And in first place — Ravenclaw, with 487 points!"
A thunderous roar erupted from the Ravenclaw table.
Many turned to Wang Yong with gratitude — he had earned the house the most points during the term, and their Quidditch players had sealed the win. Ravenclaw's long-awaited triumph was now a reality.
"Yes, yes, excellent performance," Dumbledore said, twinkle in his eye. "However — a few recent events must also be taken into account."
The hall fell silent. Ravenclaw's grins started to falter. Wang Yong raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I have a few last-minute points to award. Let me see…
First — Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best game of wizard's chess Hogwarts has seen in many years — fifty points to Gryffindor."
The Gryffindor table nearly exploded with cheers.
Ravenclaws exchanged wary glances. Sudden last-minute points? That had never happened before. Even the friendly Hufflepuffs looked uncertain.
"Second — Miss Hermione Granger, who stayed calm and logical in the face of fire — another fifty points to Gryffindor."
Hermione buried her face in her arms, crying softly — but through her tears, she peeked at Wang Yong and shot him a smug look.
Due to Wang Yong's brilliance, Hermione had barely earned any class points this year. Now she had some of her own.
"Third — Harry Potter," said Dumbledore. "For exceptional courage and bravery — sixty points to Gryffindor."
Gryffindor now stood tied with Slytherin at 472 points. The Slytherins looked furious — they'd lost their six-year streak, and to their most hated rivals no less.
Ravenclaw wasn't celebrating either. Gryffindor was just fifteen points behind. If Dumbledore added even one more name, their long-awaited Cup would be gone.
Everyone turned to him.
"Courage comes in many forms," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. "Standing up to our enemies takes strength — but standing up to our friends sometimes takes even more. For that reason, I award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
Finally, the "damned old man" sat down, as Ravenclaws muttered under their breath.
And then — if someone had been standing outside the Great Hall, they might've thought there had been an explosion. The cheers from the Ravenclaw table were deafening.
Despite Dumbledore's blatant favoritism, Ravenclaw had held on — winning the House Cup by just five points.
The Hufflepuffs joined in the applause, their camaraderie with Ravenclaw shining through. Even Slytherins were clapping — not for Ravenclaw, but in sheer relief that Gryffindor had fallen short at the last moment.
Wang Yong's clenched fist finally relaxed. He laughed and cheered along with his fellow Ravenclaws. Everything he had worked for this year had paid off.
Not even Dumbledore's blatant bias could stop it.
Next to him, Cho Chang cheered wildly, then nudged him with her elbow and gestured toward the Gryffindor table.
Everyone there sat frozen like they'd been hit with a Full Body-Bind curse.
Wang Yong only laughed harder — so loudly it nearly brought the enchanted ceiling crashing down.