That evening, the usually quiet Hufflepuff common room was bursting with laughter, chatter, and the crackling warmth of its golden fire. The cozy underground hall, lined with honey-colored wood and round doors, was alive with life — from wide-eyed first years to wise seventh years sharing stories of O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s.
But as the door to the dormitory opened, the sound slowly quieted. Every head turned toward the entrance.
Roy Valvas had returned.
He stood tall, his silver-white hair catching the firelight like strands of starlight, his expression calm but commanding. The conversations stilled, and without anyone saying a word, a space cleared in the center of the room.
Roy walked there, nodded once to his fellow students, and spoke — his tone steady, not loud, but filled with quiet conviction.
Roy's Speech
"Everyone," Roy began, "I know we're all comfortable here — hardworking, loyal, fair. That's what Hufflepuff stands for. But being kind doesn't mean being silent."
A few murmurs went around, students exchanging curious looks.
"You all saw what happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts," Roy continued. "We're being taught from books — not through practice. If any of you graduate without knowing how to defend yourself… how will you face a real dark wizard? How will you protect your friends, your families, or even yourselves?"
His words hung heavy in the air. Even the warm fire seemed to dim slightly, as if listening.
A sixth-year stood up hesitantly.
"But, Roy," she said, "we can study on our own. Read extra material. Practice spells together."
Roy turned to her, his blue diamond-like eyes sharp yet kind.
"And what about the ones who don't even know what to practice? What if they try and hurt themselves without guidance? Books can't correct your wand motion or tell you why your spell fizzled. Only a teacher can."
The students fell silent again. A few nodded. Others looked thoughtful.
Then Roy added, his voice lowering,
"That's why tomorrow, I'm filing an official complaint to the Headmaster — against Professor Quirrell's teaching methods. Not because I dislike him, but because our lives might one day depend on what we learn in that classroom."
Gasps filled the room. A few first years looked terrified.
"You're… filing a complaint? Against a professor?" one boy asked.
Roy nodded firmly.
"If anything happens, I'll take full responsibility. But I won't stand by and watch us leave Hogwarts unprepared."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then, to his surprise, a seventh-year Hufflepuff prefect stood up.
"You're right, Roy," he said. "If we want to call ourselves true Hufflepuffs, we can't just accept unfairness. We have to stand together."
Then another voice joined —
"Count me in."Then another.And another.
Soon, the entire common room was buzzing with determination.
By the time Roy finished his speech, every single student — from trembling first years to confident upperclassmen — had decided they would also write a complaint.
That night, the Hufflepuff dormitory wasn't just warm — it glowed with unity.
The Morning of Resolve
The next morning, as dawn painted the castle in gold, all of Hufflepuff House marched together through the corridors.
It was a sight Hogwarts hadn't seen in years — an entire house, united, serious, and proud.
Even the portraits stopped mid-conversation to watch them pass.The other students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin peeked out of classrooms, whispering in surprise.
"What's happening?""Why are all the Hufflepuffs together?""Is it a protest?"
At the front of the procession, Roy led with calm composure, holding a neatly folded letter sealed with a golden wax emblem — the Valvas family crest.
They stopped at the third-floor corridor, where the stone gargoyle stood guard before the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
The gargoyle blinked its stony eyes and looked down at Roy.
"Ah, Mr. Valvas. Do you wish to see the Headmaster?" it asked in a deep, rumbling voice.
Roy shook his head.
"Not today. We're here to deliver something important."
The gargoyle tilted its head, intrigued.
"Then place it in my mouth," it said, parting its granite jaws.
Roy turned back to his fellow Hufflepuffs.
"Everyone, let's do it together."
One by one, the students of Hufflepuff stepped forward — hundreds of letters, each sealed with yellow and black wax, slipped into the gargoyle's mouth.
As more and more letters went in, the gargoyle's eyes widened slightly. Its stony stomach began to bulge, glowing faintly gold.
By the time the last first-year stepped back, the gargoyle looked… uncomfortably full.
Grrmmpph… "So… many… letters…" it muttered, groaning dramatically.
Laughter broke out — not mocking, but bright and proud.
A Shock Through Hogwarts
By mid-morning, the story spread like wildfire.
"Did you hear? Every single Hufflepuff filed a complaint this morning!""They did? Against Quirrell?""Yeah! Even the gargoyle looks sick from eating all those letters!"
Students whispered it across hallways. Professors raised eyebrows. Even Professor Sprout — their Head of House — was astonished.
She rushed toward the third floor, where she found the bloated gargoyle burping out yellow wax envelopes.
"Oh, Merlin's beard…" Sprout gasped, covering her mouth — half in disbelief, half in pride.
The professors nearby looked equally stunned. For centuries, Hufflepuff had been known as the most patient, kind, and quiet of houses. But today, they had shown something else — strength through unity.
4. The New Meaning of Hufflepuff
That day marked a turning point in Hogwarts history.
For the first time in decades, students from other houses looked at the yellow and black crest not with amusement, but with respect — even fear.
"Don't mess with Hufflepuffs," a Ravenclaw murmured at lunch."They're nice until you make them mad," added a Gryffindor.
Roy sat quietly at the table, smiling faintly as his housemates cheered and laughed.
When Professor Sprout entered the Great Hall later, she stopped beside Roy, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"You reminded them, Mr. Valvas," she said softly, "that loyalty isn't weakness — it's courage with a heart."
Roy simply nodded.
"That's what Hufflepuff is meant to be."
And for the first time in Hogwarts history, Hufflepuff's crest — the badger — became a symbol not just of loyalty, but of fearlessness.