It had been several days since Roy's daring act on Halloween—and his name, Shura, had spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts. The title carried weight now: whispered in corridors, carved into the House notice boards, and spoken with admiration across all four tables of the Great Hall.
But fame, as Roy quickly learned, came with constant teasing.
At breakfast, Hermione, Daphne, Cassandra Vole, Penelope Clearwater, and Cho Chang had formed a sort of informal circle around him. Every time someone greeted him with, "Morning, Lord Shura!", one of the girls would smirk and add something more outrageous.
"Oh, mighty Shura, do bless us with your infinite wisdom on Transfiguration," Penelope said dramatically one morning."Or perhaps enlighten us on how to roast trolls properly," Daphne added with a teasing grin."Do you also fly in shining armor, my lord?" Cho chimed in, pretending to swoon.
Roy buried his face in his toast, trying to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck while the table erupted in laughter.
And then there were the Weasley twins.
Fred and George, never ones to miss a joke, would occasionally appear beside Roy with mock-serious expressions.
"Oh great Lord Shura, we humbly beg thee," Fred would begin, bowing dramatically."Our humble prank products yearn for the blessing of thy mighty intellect," George would continue."Can you help your young disciples improve their works of chaos?"
Roy would sigh, suppressing his grin. "Bring the products, you lunatics."
The laughter that followed always drew curious stares from nearby tables—especially from the Slytherins, who were growing increasingly irritated at how much attention the Hufflepuffs were getting these days.
The next big event on the horizon was the Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin Quidditch match.
The air was electric that morning; banners of gold and green shimmered across the stands. The Hufflepuff team, though nervous, carried a quiet confidence—especially with Roy Valvas as their new chaser. Even the Slytherins had stopped underestimating him after hearing what happened in the Ravenclaw match.
Roy mounted his broom, the wind whipping through his hair. Beside him, Cedric Diggory—the team's Seeker—gave him a determined nod.
"You ready to make some magic, Roy?""Always," Roy replied, smirking.
Madam Hooch's whistle shrieked—and the game began.
From the very first minute, Roy was unstoppable. His flying was flawless—fluid, sharp, and impossible to track for long. Every turn and dive seemed almost premeditated, as if he could see the entire field from above.
The Slytherin Beaters, desperate to slow him down, launched bludgers at him every chance they got. But Roy's control over the broom was beyond natural—he twisted, ducked, and rolled past every attack with ease, earning gasps from the audience.
"Valvas dodges another bludger—Merlin's beard, has he got eyes in the back of his head?!" shouted Lee Jordan from the commentator's booth.
While the crowd cheered, Roy passed to his teammates with precision, racking up goal after goal for Hufflepuff. Within minutes, the score climbed rapidly.
Hufflepuff: 120 | Slytherin: 30
But Slytherin wasn't about to let him dominate uncontested. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, roared orders at his team to focus everything on Roy.
Two bludgers soared toward him at once.
Roy smirked. "Perfect."
He waited until the last second—then angled his broom just right. The first bludger missed him by inches… and struck Marcus Flint square in the jaw. The impact sent Flint spinning out of control, his broom wobbling dangerously.
The Slytherin stands went silent.
And the Hufflepuff section exploded with cheers.
"And Marcus Flint takes a bludger to the face—thanks to his own Beaters! Brilliant evasion by Valvas!" Lee Jordan crowed gleefully.
The Beaters, furious and flustered, aimed again—only for Roy to redirect the next bludger straight toward the Slytherin Seeker, who was mid-dive.
A collective gasp echoed as the Seeker took the hit and spiraled off his broom, barely caught by the safety charm before hitting the ground.
The moment of chaos gave Cedric the perfect window. Roy shouted from across the field,
"Now, Cedric—go for it!"
Cedric leaned forward and bolted. Within seconds, his hand snapped out—closing around the Golden Snitch.
The whistle blew. The crowd roared.
Final Score:
🦡 Hufflepuff — 250🐍 Slytherin — 80
The stadium erupted into a sea of yellow and black. The Hufflepuff team swarmed Roy and Cedric, lifting them onto their shoulders as chants of "Shura! Shura! Shura!" echoed across the field.
Even the professors couldn't help but smile—Professor Sprout beaming proudly, while Snape's expression was somewhere between outrage and disbelief.
That night, the Hufflepuff common room became a festival of victory. Butterbeer bottles popped open, laughter filled the air, and Roy—ever humble despite his fame—sat by the fire, grinning at his celebrating teammates.
Cedric raised a mug toward him.
"To Roy Valvas—the Shura of Hufflepuff, the bane of Slytherin!"
The whole House cheered.
And for the first time in a long while, Hufflepuff wasn't just respected—they were feared.