179: The Howler Letter

Harry Potter felt deeply wronged.

Plenty of people had flown into Hogwarts this year. So why did he and Ron have to face the terrifying wrath of Snape?

"Nolan and Stock?" Snape sneered, arms crossed as he glared down at them. "They did not fly a ridiculous car across half of England, witnessed by over five Muggles. They did not crash into the Whomping Willow, damaging a very valuable tree. And they most certainly did not land themselves on the front page of the Daily Prophet, turning themselves into a laughingstock for every wizard in the country!"

Maybe it was because Nolan had received different treatment. Or maybe it was because he and Ron had been caught by Snape the moment they got out of the car. Either way, Harry was in a foul mood.

But thankfully, that sour mood didn't last long.

Because the moment he and Ron stepped into the Gryffindor common room…

They were heroes.

Sure, Hermione was furious about it.

But—come on. When was Hermione not mad at him and Ron?

If it wasn't this, it would have been something else.

After all, no one could spend twenty-four hours a day following rules and making Hermione happy.

So, as far as Harry was concerned, that night had been great.

He and Ron were having the time of their lives, and the more they thought about it, the more they convinced themselves that flying a car into Hogwarts wasn't such a bad idea.

That sense of triumph, however, was swiftly crushed at breakfast the next day.

A deep, blood-red Howler landed on the Gryffindor table.

And when Mrs. Weasley's booming voice exploded through the Great Hall, shaking the walls, even the sleepiest students snapped awake in alarm.

Nolan twitched in his seat, suddenly wide awake.

Eve, seated beside him, quickly reached out to soothe him, gently rubbing his back until he relaxed again and sleepily closed his eyes.

Once he had settled, Eve sharply turned her gaze toward the Gryffindor table, glaring at the source of the disturbance.

By the time the Howler finally finished its tirade, leaving Ron looking as red as his hair and Harry as pale as a ghost, the entire Great Hall was silent.

Then—

The whispers exploded.

Excited murmurs filled the air as students eagerly gossiped about what had just happened.

And for a good number of them, the sight of Ron and Harry looking completely miserable was enough to put them in a great mood for the rest of the day.

"I've never seen a real Howler before," Alicia said dreamily.

Miles, however, did not look amused. "I have," he muttered darkly. "Once, I almost dropped my cousin into Uncle Norman's cauldron. Almost. Ever since then, they never let me near him again—like I'm some kind of dangerous beast. I mean, come on. It's not like I was actually going to cook him!"

"For your uncle's sake, I think he made the right choice, mate," Montague snickered.

At that moment, a small figure approached the group of third-year Slytherins.

She was tiny—clearly a first-year—and had an air of curiosity and innocence about her.

"Did Nolan not sleep well last night?" she asked, tilting her head as she stared at him.

"Oh, he's always like this," Eve replied absentmindedly as she ran a large comb through Nolan's hair.

It was a familiar sight at the Slytherin table—so much so that no one even reacted anymore.

Aside from Cho Chang, who would occasionally stop by, no one ever dared to take over this task from Eve.

But then, this little girl had the audacity to ask:

"Can I try, senior? I've never combed someone's hair before!"

Eve blinked at her in mild surprise, then shrugged. "Go ahead."

Alicia gawked. "You're actually letting someone else do it? That's a first."

"She's just a first-year," Eve replied indifferently, handing over the comb.

But in truth, Eve was a little different this year.

Last year, her relationship with Nolan had still been ambiguous.

But this year?

This year, she was officially his girlfriend.

Now that she had secured her rightful position, she didn't feel the need to watch over him as strictly. And besides, this was just a little first-year girl.

What could she possibly know?

The girl eagerly took the comb and began carefully running it through Nolan's hair, her eyes sparkling with joy.

She beamed up at Eve. "I'm Astoria, senior! Can I call you by your name?"

Eve only shrugged.

At that moment, Eve Stock had no idea—

That she had just invited the most adorable little kitten into her life.

///

As usual, Nolan didn't fully wake up until he was carried to the Charms classroom.

The moment he opened his eyes, he was met with quite the scene—

The Weasley twins, along with Lee Jordan, were bullying Malcolm Baddock.

The poor blood-purist was currently dangling from the ceiling, clinging desperately to a chandelier like a frightened monkey. His legs swung wildly in the air as he refused to let go, terrified of plummeting to the ground.

"So, we have Charms with Gryffindor this year?" Nolan raised an eyebrow.

Miles hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah... uh—" He glanced up at Malcolm. "Aren't you going to stop them?"

"They're using the Levitation Charm quite well, aren't they?" Nolan said idly. "Though, casting spells on someone outside of class just to mess with them is hardly commendable. No matter how impressive their magic is, Professor Flitwick isn't going to hand out extra credit for this."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Miles shrugged, deciding to stay out of it.

Meanwhile, Malcolm—still stuck on the chandelier—looked utterly miserable.

Seeing no other choice, he turned toward Nolan and pleaded:

"Nolan, get me down! You can't just let these filthy, poor Gryffindor bastards bully a Slytherin like this!"

Nolan sighed, lazily drawing his wand. "Alright, alright…" He tapped his wand against his palm, glancing between the two groups. "So, what exactly started this little disagreement?"

Malcolm immediately puffed up his chest, as if proud of whatever he'd done.

"I told them their father has already been arrested by the Ministry and will be sent to Azkaban sooner or later," Malcolm announced smugly. "Honestly, enchanting a Muggle vehicle to fly? What a ridiculous idea! The Weasley family isn't just a bunch of paupers—they're a bunch of Muggle-loving freaks!"

His grin widened.

"By the time this is over, they'll all be begging for food in the gutters! Want me to spare a few Knuts for you, Weasley?"

The twins turned red with fury.

One of them snapped.

A shattering spell was cast—

And Malcolm let out a screech as the chandelier collapsed, sending him plummeting toward the ground.

Gryffindors and Slytherins alike shouted, scrambling out of the way—

Malcolm was about to crash onto the floor—

But at the last moment, Nolan casually flicked his wand.

Malcolm's fall slowed as if cushioned by an invisible force, and he landed softly on the ground, looking utterly shaken.

"He should have learned his lesson by now," Eve muttered, leaning in to whisper to Nolan. "Our year of Slytherins doesn't even have much of a feud with Gryffindor, but he keeps trying to start one."

Nolan smirked. "And that's why he keeps ending up like this."

Before Eve could respond, a high-pitched shriek cut through the air.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE?!"

The diminutive form of Professor Flitwick came racing into the room, his wand already drawn as he took in the chaotic scene.

The Weasley twins immediately put on their best innocent expressions.

"Oh, Professor!" One of them said, voice dripping with false sincerity. "Baddock was just testing out the view from the chandelier! Turns out, he's a bit heavier than he thought—poor thing couldn't hold on!"

"LIES!" Malcolm roared, his ears burning red. "The chandelier only fell because they attacked it! Everyone here can prove it!"

Flitwick sighed and waved his wand.

"Reparifarge!"

In an instant, the chandelier reassembled itself, hanging perfectly in its rightful place. The chairs were neatly returned to order.

With that handled, the professor turned to glare at the assembled students.

"Enough.* The Charms classroom is not your personal dueling arena," Flitwick scolded, his voice sharp despite his small stature. "You all have plenty to focus on this year—your studies, for example. OWLs will be here before you know it!"

One of the twins groaned loudly. "Oh, Merlin save us, Professor! The OWLs are still three years away!"

Flitwick didn't so much as blink. "That's no excuse not to start preparing now."

Then, his gaze landed on Nolan.

"Mr. Von Draugr," he said, waving him forward. "Let's see how well you've retained last year's spells."

Then, addressing the class, he added, "I will be testing each of you, one by one. I expect all of you to match Mr. Von Draugr's standard."

A collective groan filled the room.

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