Chapter 307. Kaboom, Kaboom, and Kaboom
Malfoy clearly hadn't expected Harry to admit it so readily,
"He definitely used Dark magic!" he shouted from the side, vicious light flashing in his eyes.
It wasn't until Professor McGonagall shot him a withering glare that he reined in his swagger and sat properly in his chair.
Then Professor McGonagall stood up, came out from behind her desk, and swept a sharp gaze over Harry and Malfoy.
"Mr Potter, in light of Mr Malfoy's allegation, I need to verify the magic you've used in the last two days," she said, holding out her hand in a tone that brooked no argument. "Please hand me your wand."
Harry nodded, drew his wand from the inside pocket of his robes, and passed it to Professor McGonagall.
Off to the side, Malfoy arched his brows in smug delight, as if he could already see Harry being punished.
Professor McGonagall accepted the wand, gave it a small flick, and spoke a slightly obscure incantation.
Harry knew it was a standard Prior Incantato.
A silver-white light shot from the tip of her wand, swiftly condensing into a few wisps of smoke in mid-air.
Within the smoke, blurry images gradually took shape.
A Transfiguration spell, a Wand-Lighting Charm—then kaboom, kaboom, and kaboom…
By the time the fourth kaboom was replayed, Malfoy's face had gone a bit stiff.
What was this bloke doing with so many explosions?
Trying to blast him into the sky?
"You were…" Professor McGonagall returned the wand to Harry, puzzlement showing on her face.
"I was just practising Bombarda…" Harry scratched the back of his head, then quickly explained, "I definitely didn't use that spell in the corridor—Professor Adrian Wesson can vouch for me!"
"Very well," Professor McGonagall said without further probing. "But regardless, twenty points from Gryffindor for casting a spell at a fellow student in the corridor."
Harry let out a small breath.
A points deduction was the lightest outcome.
Only twenty points. With Hermione putting her back into it, they'd claw that back in no time.
"Looks like you got off lightly," Malfoy said gloatingly. "Next time, remember—"
"Mr Malfoy!"
Professor McGonagall cut him off.
"What?" Malfoy lifted his brows and looked at her in puzzlement.
"Twenty points from Slytherin as well, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, eyes keen and merciless. "Because you levelled a baseless accusation of Dark magic at a fellow student. That is a very serious act of slander."
Malfoy froze for a beat, then his face flushed scarlet.
"That's not fair!" He shot to his feet. "I was simply raising a reasonable suspicion—"
"Reasonable suspicion must be grounded in fact," Professor McGonagall retorted without giving an inch. "And Prior Incantato has established that Mr Potter used no Dark magic. If you continue to make a scene, I will gladly take another twenty points."
Malfoy's fist clenched at his side, then loosened. At last he forced out, through gritted teeth, "Yes, Professor."
Watching this, Harry couldn't help feeling thoroughly satisfied.
That git Malfoy had well and truly hoist himself with his own petard.
Twenty points from Gryffindor; twenty points from Slytherin.
Mm—practically a wash.
From a certain angle, they'd even come out ahead.
"All right, you two," said Professor McGonagall. "It's getting late. Off you go."
After the pair stepped out of the office,
Harry beamed at his arch-nemesis. "Satisfied now, Malfoy?"
"We'll see," Malfoy snarled, shooting Harry a vicious glare before turning on his heel.
Harry grinned wider at that.
His good mood carried straight through to the following day.
It was a Hogsmeade weekend.
On days like this, the Three Broomsticks always packed out with students from Hogwarts.
Fortunately, Professor Adrian Wesson had bagged a table early.
Behind the bar, Madam Rosmerta was directing the self-washing tankards, and the air was steeped in the sweet scent of Butterbeer.
Near noon, the people he'd been waiting for finally arrived.
Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.
They sat down opposite Wesson and ordered two Butterbeers.
"My treat," Sirius said expansively.
Wesson gave the pair a careful once-over.
Sirius looked much as ever; Remus, though, was positively glowing.
"Looks like things are going well for you lately, Remus," Wesson couldn't help asking. "What's the good news?"
"Remember what I mentioned?" Remus smiled. "We opened a shop in Diagon Alley—magical ingredients."
"Business is good?" Wesson asked.
"Of course," Sirius said, lowering his voice though his excitement still bled through. "A rather dubious lot put in a massive order for potion ingredients, so we sourced the consignment from abroad."
"A dubious lot?"
"Yeah," Sirius went on. "We weren't going to take it at first, but in the end we did… and it turns out we were right. Made us a tidy sum."
Sirius isn't exactly hard up, so if he called it "a tidy sum," it had to be a fair chunk.
Seeing his former employees doing well, Wesson immediately felt reassured.
While the three were chatting happily, Wesson noticed two familiar faces—Ron and Hermione—circling inside the Three Broomsticks.
"What are you two up to?" Wesson waved them over.
Hermione turned at the sound and broke into a delighted smile.
"Professor Wesson! Professor Lupin! And Sirius!" she hurried over. "So glad to see you!"
Ron trailed behind her, sneaking a rather wary glance at Sirius.
"You two are…?" Wesson raised his brows.
"Looking for seats," Hermione said, eyes smiling. "Just look—packed to the rafters."
Wesson shifted aside to make room for two more.
Hermione knew Sirius fairly well—after all, she'd stayed a few nights at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place over the summer.
Once they were seated, she looked at Sirius and Remus in curiosity. "What brings you here today?"
"The Triwizard Tournament," Remus said after a sip of Butterbeer. "We came for the spectacle."
Hermione nodded, enlightened.
That did explain it; the Triwizard Tournament was certainly worth a special trip.
"Hang on—are outsiders even allowed to watch the Tournament?" Ron asked, baffled.
At that, Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance.
"Last year I was still a professor at Hogwarts," Remus said with a wink. "Dumbledore gave permission. As for Sirius…
Well, there'll be a way."
Ron and Hermione both nodded and didn't press for what way exactly.
Chances were, it wasn't strictly by the book.
"I hear Harry's competing as well?" Sirius suddenly asked, changing the subject.
"Ah—yes," Hermione said. "But Hogwarts has two champions this time, Harry and Cedric."
"Harry's worthy of the title," Sirius said, folding his arms and blowing out a breath. "If the Tournament had been around when I was in school,
I'd absolutely have been Hogwarts' representative."
"I'm sure you would," Wesson intoned.
"By the way," Remus glanced around, then asked, "Where is Harry? I thought you three were always together. Why is it just the two of you today?"
"Not sure," Ron scratched his head. "Harry told us to meet at the Three Broomsticks first—he'll be along in a bit."
At the same time, Wesson keenly noticed that Hermione's cheeks looked a touch rosy, as if she'd had something alcoholic.
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