Malfoy's eyes widened in surprise—he clearly hadn't expected Harry to admit his actions so readily.
"He must have used dark magic!" Draco shouted from his position beside the desk, his voice cracking slightly with excitent and malicious anticipation.
It wasn't until Professor McGonagall turned her head and shot Malfoy one of her most stern glares that he hastily restrained his arrogant, triumphant attitude and settled back properly in his chair.
After allowing the silence to stretch long enough to make both boys uncomfortable, Professor McGonagall rose from her chair. She walked around from behind her desk. When she ca to a stop before them, she swept her sharp gaze over both Harry and Malfoy.
"Mr. Potter, given the serious nature of Mr. Malfoy's accusations, I find it necessary to conduct a thorough investigation of the spells you have cast in the past forty-eight hours."
She extended her hand toward Harry, her expression showing absolutely no tolerance or acceptance of any argunt. "Please show your wand."
Harry nodded without protest, understanding that resistance would only make his situation worse and potentially lend credibility to Malfoy's accusations of dark magic use.
He drew his wand from his robes' pocket with steady hands and placed it carefully across Professor McGonagall's outstretched palm.
Malfoy smugly raised his eyebrows at this developnt. He was already envisioning the glorious scene of Harry Potter being formally punished, perhaps even suspended or expelled, for the use of dark magic against a fellow student.
Professor McGonagall accepted the wand, then held it between her fingers as she raised her own wand. She waved it in a precise pattern and recited a sowhat obscure incantation in clear, slow tones.
Harry imdiately recognized the spell as a standard Prior Incantato charm.
A bright silvery-white light shot from the tip of Professor McGonagall's wand, the beam was so intense that both boys had to squint against its radiance. The light quickly condensed and swirled in the air above them, forming wisps of glowing smoke.
In the smoke, blurred images gradually took shape.
A Transfiguration spell, a Lumos charm, then Confringo, Confringo, and Confringo...
After the fourth successive Confringo was recreated, Malfoy's face grew sowhat stiff.
'What in rlin's na was Potter doing casting so many Blasting Curses?' The question raced through Malfoy's mind with growing alarm. 'Did he actually want to blow soone to pieces? Was he practicing to kill ?'
"What exactly... is this?" Professor McGonagall asked slowly, her voice carrying a new tone of concern as she returned Harry's wand to him. Her expression had shifted from stern disapproval to genuine confusion and worry.
"I was just practicing the Blasting Curse for the Tournant," Harry explained quickly, scratching the back of his head in nervous embarrassnt. "I absolutely didn't use that spell in the corridor this morning, Professor. Professor Westeros was supervising my practice sessions—he can testify to everything I've told you!"
"Very well," Professor McGonagall said after a mont of consideration. She decided to accept Harry's explanation at face value, particularly given his offer of verification from a fellow professor.
"But regardless of your intentions or the ultimate harmlessness of your corridor spell, the fact remains that you cast magic against a fellow student in a school corridor, which is strictly forbidden."
She paused to let this sink in before delivering her verdict. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for unauthorized spell-casting in the corridors and for targeting another student, even with non-harmful magic."
Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the tension drained from his body. Losing house points was certainly unpleasant, but it was already the smallest possible price he could have paid for his actions.
Just twenty points—if Hermione applied herself with her usual academic excellence, or if he managed to distinguish himself in classes over the next few weeks, they could earn those points back relatively quickly.
It was a manageable consequence, far better than detention, suspension, or the more serious punishnts he had feared.
"Well, it looks like you escaped any real punishnt," Malfoy said with false cheerfulness, though his voice had a tinge of bitter disappointnt. "Next ti you should rember to—"
"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall's voice cut through his gloating.
"What?" Malfoy turned to look at her with raised eyebrows, his expression shifting from smug satisfaction to sudden confusion and wariness.
"Twenty points from Slytherin as well, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall announced, her gaze sharp and unforgiving as she delivered her judgnt rcilessly.
"For making false and baseless accusations against a fellow student regarding the use of dark magic, which constitutes an extrely serious act of slander that could have resulted in severe consequences for Mr. Potter's academic career and future prospects."
Malfoy stared at her in complete shock, his mouth opening and closing silently as his brain struggled to process this unexpected turn of events. Then his pale face flushed a deep red.
"This isn't fair!" He protested, jumping to his feet abruptly. "I was just making reasonable suspicions—"
"Reasonable suspicion must always be grounded in demonstrable facts and evidence," Professor McGonagall replied without showing even a hint of retreat or compromise.
"The Prior Incantato examination has conclusively proven that Mr. Potter employed no dark magic at all—only standard, approved Transfiguration techniques that any competent fourth-year student might reasonably be expected to master."
She paused before delivering her final warning. "If you continue to make unreasonable trouble or persist in these groundless accusations, I don't mind deducting another twenty points from Slytherin. Is that quite clear?"
Malfoy's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides in obvious frustration, his entire body turning stiff with anger and humiliation. After several monts of internal struggle, he managed to squeeze out through clenched teeth, "Yes, Professor McGonagall."
Harry watched this dramatic reversal of fortune with barely concealed delight, fighting to keep his expression neutral while internally celebrating this unexpected victory.
Malfoy had completely engineered his own downfall. Instead of achieving his goal of seeing Harry punished, he had managed to ensure that both houses lost exactly the sa number of points.
Twenty points from Gryffindor, twenty points from Slytherin.
From a mathematical perspective, this was almost like no points being deducted at all. In fact, from a certain strategic viewpoint, Harry had actually co out ahead by exposing Malfoy's malicious nature to Professor McGonagall's attention.
"Very well then, gentlen," Professor McGonagall concluded with finality, returning to her position behind her desk and picking up her quill to resu grading. "It's growing late, and I'm sure you both have better ways to spend your evening than lingering in my office. You are both dismissed."
After they left the office together, walking side by side down the corridor in tense silence, Harry finally turned to look at his nesis with cheerfulness.
"So, Malfoy," He said with exaggerated politeness, "are you quite satisfied with how this evening turned out? Did you achieve everything you hoped for when you decided to report to Professor McGonagall?"
"We'll see about that, Pottah," Malfoy replied through clenched teeth, his grey eyes flashing with promises of future revenge. "This isn't over between us. Not by a long shot."
With that statent, he turned sharply and walked away down the corridor.
Harry watched him leave with a broad grin spreading across his face, genuinely amused by the entire sequence of events. Malfoy's complete failure to achieve his malicious goals had been more entertaining than any cody show.
Harry's cheerful mood persisted and even improved over the next day.
This Saturday had been designated as a Hogsade visit day.
On days like this, the famous Three Broomsticks inn would inevitably beco packed to capacity with students from Hogwarts, all eager to taste freedom, socialize outside the castle, and sample Madam Rosrta's famous butterbeer.
The cozy inn, with its low-bead ceiling, crackling fireplace, and atmosphere of warm warmth, served as the social heart of Hogsade village during these student invasion days.
Fortunately, Adrian had shown remarkable foresight by arriving early and securing one of the better tables—a corner booth that offered both privacy and a clear view of the main room, perfect for observing the in and out of students while conducting more adult business.
The Three Broomsticks presented its usual scene of precise chaos on this busy afternoon.
Madam Rosrta was directing a fleet of self-washing glasses behind the wooden bar. The glasses danced through the air in precise formations, diving into sudsy wash basins, erging sparkling clean, and arranging themselves in neat rows ready for the next order.
The air throughout the inn was filled with the sweet, rich aroma of butterbeer. Mixed with this was the buzz of dozens of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter, and the gentle clink of glasses and cutlery that created the perfect backdrop for social gathering.
Around noon, just as the lunch crowd was reaching its peak, Adrian finally spotted the two figures he had been waiting for making their way through the crowded common room toward his reserved table.
Sirius and Remus crossed the maze of occupied tables, nodding politely to students who recognized the forr Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and casting curious glances at the infamous escaped convict who was now walking freely through the shop.
After they sat in the chairs across from Adrian, taking a mont to arrange their winter cloaks and settle into the comfortable booth, they imdiately placed their orders with the stressed but efficient serving witch who appeared at their table.
"Two butterbeers, please," Remus requested with his typical politeness, "and perhaps so of those excellent at pies if they're still warm."
"My treat, of course," Sirius said generously. "Consider it a celebration of successful business venture and old friendships."
Adrian took the opportunity to carefully observe the two and noticed the subtle changes in their appearances and deanor.
Sirius didn't look particularly different from his usual self. Remus, however, appeared remarkably transford. His robes were of fine quality fabric, well-tailored and obviously new. His face had filled out slightly, losing the thin, malnourished look.
"You look like you've been thriving lately, Remus," Adrian observed with genuine pleasure, unable to suppress his curiosity about this dramatic improvent in his friend's fortunes. "Sothing particularly good must have happened recently. Care to share the details?"
"Do you rember what I ntioned in my last letter?" Remus replied, his face lighting up with a smile. "Sirius and I finally opened that potion ingredients shop we'd been planning in Diagon Alley."
"And how's the business treating you?" Adrian asked, looking genuinely interested in their business.
"Better than we ever dared hope," Sirius interjected. "Just recently, so rather mysterious fellows placed an enormous order for a large batch of rare potion ingredients and we managed to get these goods from other countries."
"Mysterious fellows?" Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"Ah, yes," Sirius continued, leaning forward slightly as if sharing a particularly juicy piece of gossip, "originally we were sowhat hesitant to take on such an unusual commission. The quantities they wanted were enormous, and so of the requested ingredients were quite specialized."
He paused to take a sip of his butterbeer before continuing. "But in the end, we decided to accept the contract, and it turned out to be absolutely the right decision. The profit margin was extraordinary—it's made us what I would conservatively call a small fortune."
Given that Sirius ca from the ancient and wealthy Black family, his definition of a "fortune" was likely to be considerably more large than most people would consider financially substantial. This ant that their potion ingredients business had indeed been remarkably successful.
Seeing that his forr employee and friend was thriving in his new circumstances, Adrian felt a considerable weight lift from his shoulders. He had always felt sowhat responsible for Remus's wellbeing, knowing how difficult it was for a werewolf to find steady, legitimate employnt in the wizarding world.
While the three n continued their conversation, catching up on months of news and sharing stories of their respective endeavors, Adrian's attention was montarily caught by two familiar young faces walking through the crowded interior of the Three Broomsticks.
Ron and Hermione were moving slowly through the packed crowd, clearly searching for available seating among the crush of weekend visitors. Ron's red hair made him easily identifiable even in the crowded room, while Hermione's bushy brown hair caught the warm lamplight as she turned her head to scan the available options.
"What are you two up to?" Adrian called out, raising his voice and his hand in a friendly wave to catch their attention.
Hermione turned at the sound of her professor's voice, her face imdiately lighting up with genuine delight at the unexpected encounter.
"Professor Westeros! Professor Lupin! And Sirius!" She exclaid, making her way quickly through the maze of occupied tables toward their corner booth. "How wonderful to see you all together! This is such a pleasant surprise!"
Ron followed sowhat more slowly behind her, his expression showing a mixture of pleasure at seeing familiar faces and a certain residual nervousness around Sirius Black.
Despite knowing that Harry's godfather was innocent of the cris for which he had been imprisoned, Ron still found it slightly unsettling to encounter the man whose face had been on "Wanted" posters for so many years.
"What are you two…?" Adrian asked, raising his eyebrows in curiosity.
"We're looking for sowhere to sit, actually," Hermione replied with a smile, gesturing at the completely packed inn around them. "As you can see, every available table seems to be occupied. We've been wandering around for a few minutes trying to find even two empty chairs."
Adrian imdiately moved to make room at their table, shifting his position and signaling to his companions to do the sa. "Well, we can certainly redy that situation. Please, join us—there's plenty of room for everyone."
The expansion of their group required so creative rearrangent of seating, but soon all five were comfortably settled around the larger table, with additional chairs conjured.
Hermione was already quite familiar with Sirius from her ti spent at 12 Grimmauld Place during the previous sumr holidays.
After sitting into her chair, she looked with curiosity at both Sirius and Remus. "What brings you here today?"
"We're here because of the Triwizard Tournant," Remus explained, taking another sip of his butterbeer. "We decided it would be worth making the journey to witness such a historic event. After all, it's been over a century since the Tournant was last held."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
That made sense—the Triwizard Tournant was certainly worth making a special trip for.
"Excuse ," Ron interjected, looking sowhat confused as he processed this information, "but does the Triwizard Tournant actually allow outside observers? I thought it was restricted to students and current school staffs."
Sirius and Remus exchanged a aningful glance.
"Well," Remus said with a slight wink, "I was still serving as a Hogwarts professor just last year, so Dumbledore was quite willing to extend special permission for to attend as a forr faculty mber."
He paused and glanced aningfully at Sirius before continuing. "As for Sirius... let's just say that there are always ways."
Ron and Hermione nodded knowingly, neither pressing for more specific details about what exactly that way might be.
It was probably not entirely above board.
"I heard that Harry's also participating in the Triwizard Tournant this ti?" Sirius asked suddenly, changing the subject.
"Yes, he is," Hermione confird, though her expression grew slightly more serious. "But the situation has beco rather complicated—Hogwarts ended up with two champions instead of the usual one. Both Harry and Cedric Diggory were selected by the Goblet of Fire."
"Harry absolutely deserves the champion title," Sirius declared with fierce pride, crossing his arms and exhaling slowly as if releasing so internal tension. "If this competition had existed when I was student at Hogwarts, I'm absolutely certain that I would have been selected as the school's representative."
"I'm quite sure you would have been," Adrian replied dryly.
"By the way," Remus said, glancing around the crowded inn with curiosity, "where is Harry this afternoon? I rember you three are usually together during Hogsade visits. It's rather unusual to see you here without him."
"We're not entirely sure where he is at the mont," Ron said, scratching his head with a slightly sheepish expression. "Harry told us to et him here at the Three Broomsticks around noon, and said he'd join us shortly after that. But he was rather vague about what he needed to do first."
anwhile, Adrian keenly noticed that Hermione's face seed flushed, as if she'd been drinking sothing alcoholic.
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