Halloween Aftermath

Dumbledore's voice, though gentle, carried undeniable authority.

"Miss Clearwater, if you would kindly wait a moment? There are matters to be clarified first."

Penelope nodded swiftly, falling silent.

Dumbledore then turned toward the four professors behind him. "Professor McGonagall, if you please."

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her lips pursed into a tight line as she fixed her gaze on the trio standing before her.

"When the Headmaster ordered all students to return to their common rooms, I went to check, only to have Percy Weasley come running to me, insisting that someone was missing."

Her sharp eyes swept over Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger — do you realize how dangerous your actions were? The wall collapsed! You were buried beneath it! If not for sheer luck, you could have been seriously injured — or worse!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stiffened under her scrutiny. Their heads lowered in unison, a silent admission of guilt.

They exchanged nervous glances but remained mute, as if they had instinctively reached an unspoken agreement.

The silence did not last long.

Snape, standing to the side, spoke in his signature slow, drawling voice. "Ah, but of course. The Boy-Who-Lived must always find a way to stand apart. A more extraordinary spectacle, another chance to prove his uniqueness."

His words, laced with cold disdain, stung sharper than any reprimand.

Professor McGonagall's eyes flashed with irritation, but she refrained from commenting. Instead, she addressed the trio once more, her voice crisp.

"Explain yourselves. Why did you disobey the Headmaster's orders? Why were you not in Gryffindor Tower?"

Her gaze shifted to Harry and Ron specifically. "I saw you both in the Great Hall before. You could have followed Percy and remained safe in the common room. So why were you still wandering about?"

Harry, still reeling from Snape's remark, lifted his head with a frown.

"Professor McGonagall, we had a reason to be there," he said, his voice firm.

McGonagall's expression softened — just a little. "Then explain it, Mr. Potter."

But the moment the words left her lips, Harry hesitated.

The truth was simple: Ron had made an unkind remark about Hermione, causing her to flee in distress. She had hidden away in the girls' bathroom, completely unaware that a troll had been let loose in the castle.

Feeling guilty, he and Ron had gone to find her — Ron had even apologized. They had made amends and, for the first time, felt like true friends.

It should have been a happy moment. But then, the troll had appeared, leading to the disaster that followed.

Harry's fingers clenched slightly.

If he told the truth, Ron's unkind words would come to light. And in Harry's mind, that felt like a betrayal of his first and best friend at Hogwarts.

Ron had stood by him, always.

Ron had risked his life for them in that bathroom.

Ron had shielded Hermione when the wall collapsed.

How could he let him take the blame?

Harry turned his head slightly, glancing at Ron, then Hermione. He decided — he would be the one to take responsibility.

But before he could open his mouth, Hermione stepped forward.

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and her voice trembled.

"Professor McGonagall… it was… my fault." She sniffled, her face flushed with emotion. "I thought I could handle the troll alone… so I —"

McGonagall's sharp gaze did not waver.

"Miss Granger," she interrupted, adjusting her glasses, "how would you have even known about the troll? You were not in the Great Hall when the announcement was made."

Hermione paled, caught in her own lie.

"I —" she faltered, struggling for words. Her face turned redder, her fingers twisting in the hem of her robe. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill.

Then, suddenly —

"Professor McGonagall! It's my fault!"

Ron had stepped forward, his face just as red as Hermione's. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he shouted in one breath:

"I said horrible things about Hermione! That's why she was alone! I dragged Harry with me to find her and apologize, but then we ran into the troll!"

He squared his shoulders, his voice unwavering.

"If you're going to punish someone, punish me! Write a letter to my mum if you have to — just don't blame them!"

Harry's head snapped toward Ron in shock.

And before he could react, Hermione wiped her tears and hurriedly added:

"Professor McGonagall — Ron protected me! When the wall collapsed, he shielded me! H-he shouldn't be expelled for this!"

Harry, flustered, immediately backed them up.

"Professor! Ron protected both of us! You can't make him leave Hogwarts!"

Fred and George, watching from the sidelines, exchanged knowing looks.

Fred sighed. "Strange. Very strange."

George nodded, smirking. "Ron being so brave... and actually asking McGonagall to write Mum a letter? Absolutely unheard of."

It was clear now — each of the trio feared something different.

Hermione dreaded expulsion more than anything.

Harry refused to betray his friend.

And Ron? He would rather take the blame himself than risk his mother receiving a letter of complaint.

Dumbledore, who had been observing in quiet amusement, finally spoke.

"Professor McGonagall," he said, smiling, "it seems these students have discovered something rather precious tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

Professor McGonagall exhaled slowly, adjusting her glasses.

"Yes… I see it clearly." Her eyes softened. "There is friendship among you — a strong one."

But just as quickly, she straightened and resumed her usual strict tone.

"However, rules must be followed. There must be consequences. Gryffindor will be deducted thirty points."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

Thirty points was bad — but not nearly as bad as they had feared.

"Percy," McGonagall continued, turning to the prefect, "escort them back to the common room. They are to rest immediately."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances, their shoulders sagging in relief.

Hermione, however, bit her lip, her eyes still glistening.

She blamed herself — because of her, Gryffindor had lost even more points.

------------------------------

Dumbledore took two steps forward, his eyes twinkling as he regarded the remaining culprits.

"Now, as for you two," he said, addressing Fred and George. "I imagine facing a troll must have been quite the thrilling experience. But tell me — why, exactly, were you not in the Gryffindor common room?"

Unlike the nervous Golden Trio before them, Fred and George stood their ground with impressive ease.

"Headmaster, this was all an accident!" Fred declared, exuding an air of dramatic innocence.

George nodded solemnly. "A complete misunderstanding. A terrible, unforeseeable mix-up."

Fred continued, throwing in a well-timed wink. "We were only a few minutes late —"

George held up a finger. "Well, maybe a bit more than a few minutes."

"Tens of minutes, at most," Fred amended.

George shrugged. "Half an hour, tops."

Fred sighed. "And what do we get for our troubles? A run-in with a troll! The things we endure..."

"The auditorium was empty when we arrived, and it was terrifying," George added, his voice grave. "We were practically in tears."

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, absolutely! I was this close to sobbing!"

To emphasize the point, George dramatically covered his face with his hands and let out an exaggerated wail.

"Yes, I actually cried! Wuwuwuwu…"

From the sidelines, Penelope had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Vizet, standing beside her, struggled to keep a straight face.

Professor McGonagall, however, took a deep breath — clearly using every ounce of restraint not to let them derail the conversation.

"And where were you before all of this?" she asked, her tone measured but firm. "Why were you with Vizet?"

"To learn magic," Fred answered smoothly, eyes twinkling with mischief.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed slightly. "To learn magic?"

George nodded sagely. "Yes, well... more specifically, potions."

"Potions?" McGonagall repeated, now thoroughly skeptical. "You're telling me that instead of returning to Gryffindor Tower, you — two third-years — sought out a first-year for a discussion on potions?"

"Absolutely!" Fred replied with conviction.

"A very serious discussion," George added.

Professor McGonagall looked as though she was about to call them out for their blatant nonsense — until a new voice interrupted.

"Vizet is qualified."

It was Snape.

The Potions Master stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His tone, however, was unmistakably cutting.

"These two," he gestured at the twins, "are nowhere near as competent as he is. It can be said as much."

Fred and George turned to stare at him in shock.

"Well..." George muttered, lowering his hands. "Although Snape — ah, I mean, Professor Snape — just crushed our egos, I can't say he's wrong."

Fred nodded solemnly. "The truth hurts."

Dumbledore, ever the observer, remained unfazed throughout the exchange. Finally, with a small chuckle, he brought the conversation to a close.

"Well, I believe that clears things up." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "A most unfortunate accident, it seems."

He clapped his hands together lightly. "And given that everyone is clearly exhausted, I think it's best that we all retire for the night, don't you agree?"

Fred and George saluted in unison.

"Yes, absolutely!" Fred said, nodding eagerly.

"We couldn't agree more, Headmaster!" George added.

Without waiting another second — lest Dumbledore change his mind — the twins grabbed their large bottles of green troll mucus and bolted from the hall, moving faster than if they'd been chased by a dragon.

Just before vanishing from sight, Fred turned and called out dramatically:

"Vizet! We shall never forget your life-saving grace!"

Then, with a final sprint, they were gone.