In the cozy ambiance of the common room, Atlas and Hermione were engrossed in their scheduled study session for Charms homework. The atmosphere was peaceful, their minds focused on unraveling the intricacies of spellcasting. However, their tranquility was abruptly shattered as the portrait swung open, revealing a downtrodden Neville inching his way inside. Malfoy had apparently used the Leg-Locker curse on Neville, a cruel attempt to subject him to the same bullying tactics as in the original story.
To Atlas's astonishment, Neville appeared worse off than he had anticipated. His spirits were dampened, tinged with a hint of embarrassment, but what truly shook Atlas to the core were the visible wounds adorning Neville's face. Bruises marked his features, a cracked lip marred by dried blood, painting a stark picture of the confrontation he had endured.
With urgency and concern in their hearts, Hermione, Atlas, and a few others rushed to Neville's aid. Hermione swiftly cast the countercurse, while Atlas extended his support, helping Neville regain his footing. Harry, a mix of worry and indignation, probed for answers, demanding to know what had transpired.
Taking a deep breath, Neville recounted the distressing encounter. "I was in the library, gathering the books Hermione had recommended for Herbology. As I left, I stumbled upon Malfoy, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy, true to form, attempted to belittle me, questioning my intelligence and ridiculing my every move. Following your advice, Atlas," Neville paused, his gaze meeting the understanding eyes of his companion, "I tried to walk away, ignoring his provocations. That's when he mentioned he learned a new spell he wished to practice and asked for a partner. I decided to ignore him, but suddenly, he cast the Leg-Locker Curse, catching me off guard. Mid-stride, I tumbled to the floor, landing chin-first."
Interrupting with a fiery determination, Hermione interjected, urging Neville to report the incident to Professor McGonagall. "He attacked you without cause! He should be expelled for such an act!"
Atlas, ever the voice of reason, gently intervened, attempting to steer the conversation away from the potential repercussions. "I understand your concern, Hermione, but let Neville finish his account, if you please."
Hermione wanted to say something more, but Atlas had already signaled Neville to continue.
Grateful for Atlas's intervention, Neville pressed on. "Thank you. So, as I lay on the ground, disoriented and uncertain of what had just happened, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle erupted into fits of laughter. It was in that moment that something inside me snapped. I drew out my wand, unleashing a Vermillius Curse, aiming for Malfoy. Unfortunately, my aim faltered, and the spell struck Crabbe instead. Their reactions were priceless, the shock at the realization that someone dared to fight back. Crabbe broke down in tears, like a whimpering child, while Malfoy and Goyle lunged at me. Using the defensive techniques we've been practicing in Defence against the Dark Arts, I managed to shield myself from most of their spells, even evading a few by rolling out of the way. As they came closer, it became more difficult to defend myself, and they disarmed me. After that, they began to beat me up. Yet, I retaliated, managing to strike Malfoy as well. I believe he'll be sporting a splendid blue eye tomorrow," Neville concluded, a trace of pride in his voice.
Whatever Atlas had expected, that hadn’t been it. He knew that Neville was getting more confident by the day since he got a new wand and was making actual progress as a wizard, but this development was far faster than he expected.
However, the immediate concern at hand was addressing Neville's injuries. Hermione, true to her nature, wasted no time in reiterating her plea to seek Professor McGonagall's assistance. Harry, displaying a level-headed approach, suggested they first visit Madam Pomfrey before involving the Head of Gryffindor House. Ron, on the other hand, was eager for a more direct confrontation, suggesting they search for Malfoy and give him a taste of his own medicine.
In the end, Harry's pragmatic suggestion prevailed, stating they should visit Madam Pomfrey first, followed by approaching Professor McGonagall and only resort to Rons suggestion if necessary. Hermione, though hesitant about resorting to violence, found solace in the belief that Professor McGonagall would not let Malfoy escape without punishment.
Atlas thought the same, but for some reason he was having a bad feeling. When they entered the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey looked at them with mixed emotions. Atlas was unable to tell if she was angry, disappointed, or worried, but it was clear that she wasn’t in a good mood. She quickly fixed up Neville without even asking for an explanation, but Atlas could hear her mumbling that she hoped the headmaster would finally put an end to this madness.
Atlas couldn't help but question the deeper meaning behind Madam Pomfrey's words. Did she imply that Dumbledore had a hand in Neville's encounter with Malfoy? The notion seemed preposterous, as Atlas struggled to fathom why Dumbledore would orchestrate such events.
As they approached Professor McGonagall's office, anticipation filled their minds, their imaginations running wild with visions of Malfoy's imminent expulsion. However, their hopes were swiftly dashed when they were confronted by none other than Professor Snape, poised to open the office door. Behind him stood Malfoy, sporting a noticeable blue eye, Crabbe nursing a light burn on his face, and Goyle appearing relatively unscathed.
The bubble of their expulsion fantasy burst like a fleeting soap bubble, leaving Atlas with a gnawing worry. He feared that Neville would bear the brunt of Snape's involvement, facing undeserved consequences for defending himself. Before his very eyes, Snape wasted no time in casting accusatory glances their way, ready to assign blame. But just as the weight of their predicament seemed overwhelming, fortune favored them in the form of Professor McGonagall.
In the nick of time, Professor McGonagall caught sight of the commotion unfolding before her office, her perceptive gaze capturing the tension in the air. Reacting swiftly, she swung open the office door, interrupting Snape before he could utter his first damning sentence. It was a stroke of luck that granted them a momentary reprieve.
Facing Professor McGonagall's piercing stare, Snape couldn't help but offer a cold reply, attempting to shift the blame onto the students before him. However, the moment those words left his lips, an icy stillness enveloped Professor McGonagall's expression. With a voice that carried the weight of authority, she commanded all of them—Atlas, Neville, Malfoy, and even Snape—into her office, leaving no room for further debate.
Atlas couldn't help but feel a surge of unease as he observed the unprecedented fury etched across Professor McGonagall's face. It was a sight he had never witnessed before—a storm brewing within her eyes, warning of the tempest to come. The tension in the room was palpable as the professor addressed Professor Snape with a voice so severe, even the formidable potions master dared not offer a retort.
"Those are grave accusations, Professor Snape," she began, her words slicing through the air like a finely honed blade. "Therefore, I demand a full account of the events from both sides before passing judgment. Let it be known that any attempt to deceive me will result in severe consequences. Malfoy, you shall speak first."
Malfoy, initially eager to share his version of events, faltered under the weight of Professor McGonagall's penetrating gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding direct contact as a flicker of insecurity danced across his features. With a nervous swallow, he finally began his narrative.
"Professor, Crabbe, Goyle, and I were on our way to the library to complete our transfiguration homework when suddenly we were ambushed by them," Malfoy recounted, his confidence growing as he delved further into his tale. "This imbecile even resorted to physical violence, striking me in the face. Naturally, we sought to defend ourselves, and I believe we managed to land a few blows on Longbottom. However, once they disarmed us, we were at their mercy. While they were pummeling Goyle and me, one of them unleashed a spell that struck Crabbe in the face while he lay defenseless on the floor. I suspect it was Potter, but given the chaos of the situation, I cannot be entirely certain."
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The Gryffindors bristled with indignation, their tongues eager to protest and expose Malfoy's fabrications. Yet, before a single word could escape their lips, Professor McGonagall silenced them with an authoritative gesture, her stern countenance brooking no interruption.
Turning her attention to Crabbe and Goyle, the professor inquired if they had any additional details to contribute. The two hulking figures shook their heads hastily, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and trepidation. Finally, Professor McGonagall pivoted her gaze toward her own students, her voice simmering with restrained fury as she demanded their defense.
Then she turned to her students and asked with a boiling voice what they had to say in their defence. She looked at Atlas signaling him to start. He was a bit surprised that he was asked first, but he assumed Professor McGonagall trusted him more than the rest after their many private lessons.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Atlas made a decision. He would recount exactly what he had witnessed, discarding any embellishments or additions from Neville's version of events. With a steady voice and a determined gaze, he began his account.
"Professor, Malfoy is fabricating his story," Atlas declared, his words carrying an air of conviction. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were all in the Common Room when Neville burst in, still afflicted by the Leg-Locker Curse. We immediately rushed to his aid, seeking an explanation for his condition. The tale he told us was vastly different from Malfoy's fanciful account. In fact, we accompanied Neville to Madam Pomfrey, and she can undoubtedly verify our presence. That's all I can contribute on the matter. It would be best to hear the details directly from Neville himself."
As Atlas spoke, he noticed the pulsing vein on Professor McGonagall's neck gradually receding, a subtle sign that she was inclined to believe his words. The realization brought him a sense of relief, for it meant she also saw through Malfoy's web of deceit.
Turning her attention to Neville, Professor McGonagall requested his version of the incident, prompting him to recount the events as he had already shared with their group in the Common Room. However, this time, Neville omitted any trace of pride or self-congratulation for standing up to his aggressors.
With no one else volunteering to add to the narrative, Professor McGonagall addressed the room once again. "Under no circumstances is violence tolerated within Hogwarts," she proclaimed, her voice firm and unyielding. "Especially not the clandestine kind that you described. I shall deduct one hundred points, and consider yourselves fortunate that the punishment isn't more severe."
As her words landed, Atlas couldn't help but feel a surge of confusion. Did Professor McGonagall truly believe Malfoy's unfounded claims? Was she really that oblivious? The doubts that swirled in his mind were quickly extinguished when she continued her rebuke, focusing her attention squarely on him.
"And all of you shall serve detention," she continued, her stern gaze piercing through Atlas. "Let this be a warning to each and every one of you. If any of you eight individuals engage in such behavior again, I shall personally ensure your expulsion from this school."
Malfoy, who had been smirking with a misguided sense of satisfaction while Professor McGonagall directed her reprimand at Atlas, opened his mouth to protest. Before a single word could escape, however, Snape's forceful pat on his back silenced him.
"Yes, eight, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall countered, her voice laced with subtle sarcasm. "As compelling as your narrative may be, neither you nor the opposing side possess concrete evidence to substantiate your claims. Nonetheless, given the injuries sustained by both parties, it is evident that something transpired. Thus, I shall administer punishment to all parties involved, ensuring that such behavior is never even contemplated again. Now, everyone except Snape, kindly vacate my office. And remember, should you cause any further trouble, the loss of house points will be the least of your concerns."
As Malfoy hastily departed from the office, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle, Ron's frustration reached its boiling point. He unleashed a torrent of insults, hurling them at the retreating figures, while Harry and Neville added their own colorful additions to the mix. The group seethed with discontent. Professor McGonagall had imposed punishment on her own house, despite one of her own students being the target of bullying. They bemoaned the apparent destruction of their chances for the house cup, believing that Ravenclaw now had the upper hand, having trailed Gryffindor by only a few points. Though still preferable to Slytherin winning, the perceived injustice weighed heavily on their hearts. For Atlas, however, it was not the house cup that concerned him most but his profound disappointment in Professor McGonagall.
As Ron’s attempts to suggest that they should beat up Malfoy for real and maybe drown him in the great lake were shut down by Hermione, Atlas decided he wanted to question McGonagall.
He bid farewell to the group, whispering his intentions to Hermione and arranging to meet them later in the great hall for dinner.
Returning to the office, Atlas noticed that Snape was on the verge of leaving. Their eyes met briefly, and Atlas swiftly reinforced his Occlumency barriers, preparing for a potential intrusion, but nothing happened. To his surprise, Snape appeared worn-out rather than vindictive. The menacing countenance he had worn throughout the questioning had vanished, along with his customary disdain he showed for students during classes. Atlas half-expected Snape to utter something, but the professor merely sighed before he turned around and departed, leaving Atlas puzzled. This unexpected encounter piqued his curiosity about the conversation between Professor McGonagall and Snape, intensifying his eagerness to speak with her.
Atlas cautiously knocked on the door, and Professor McGonagall promptly invited him inside, her expression almost as exhausted as Snapes.
To Atlas's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't appear particularly startled by his prompt return. "Mr. Graf, what can I do for you?" she inquired, her expression showing she knew exactly why he was there.
"I wanted to discuss what occurred earlier. You were aware that Malfoy was lying, and I'm curious as to why you didn't expose him. Personally, I'm not overly concerned about a bit of detention or deducted house points, but ultimately, you knowingly punished us despite knowing we were innocent," he expressed, detecting a tinge of guilt on the professor's face.
"I know, and I apologize for that. I can understand your perception of unfairness. As I mentioned earlier, neither side could provide concrete evidence, yet it was evident that you all had been injured. However, you are correct that it was unfair and while I can’t spare you from the detention, I've already decided to restore some of the lost points in my lessons. You hadn't received any points in our regular classes due to your exceptional progress, but I will rectify that to compensate for the points lost today," explained McGonagall, her voice laden with sincerity.
Atlas remained puzzled. While her rationale seemed logical on the surface, it didn't align with Professor McGonagall's usual approach. She wouldn't typically impose collective punishments when it was clear that only one side was at fault.
"As I mentioned, the points aren't my concern. I simply want to understand why you did it," Atlas asserted, uncertain if he was overstepping boundaries by questioning his professor. However, the guilt etched on Professor McGonagall's face convinced him that there was a genuine reason behind her actions.
"I'm sorry, Atlas. I can't delve into the details. What I can disclose is that the Hogwarts Board of Governors is causing difficulties for the teachers and Dumbledore. Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, heads the board. The way I punished all of you was the only way I could exact punishment on him without concrete evidence. Even this solution will bring us trouble when Draco relays the same lie he told us today to his father, but it was the only solution to stop any further attempts of him to bully other students. I just hope that with the deducted points his classmates will attempt to control his temper." McGonagall divulged wearily, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
Atlas sensed that there was more to the story, but he understood that he wouldn't glean any additional information. He nodded in acknowledgment. He also took note of her addressing him by his first name, indicating that this was a private conversation not to be shared with others.
What weighed on Atlas's mind was the troublesome involvement of the Hogwarts Board of Governors this year. It was a perplexing situation, absent from both the books and movies, and the visible helplessness etched on Professor McGonagall's face hinted at the gravity of the problem.
"As you're already here, I'd like to inform you that in two weeks, the researchers I mentioned in the letters will arrive. It would be wise not to make any plans for that weekend. I've also heard that one of the researchers will prolong their stay at Hogwarts. He's an eminent authority in the realm of magical beasts and a close friend of the headmaster from the United States," Professor McGonagall shifted gears, diverting the conversation to a different topic.
After discussing a few more minutes, sharing his experiences with his newfound form, Atlas bid farewell and left her office. With half an hour to spare before dinner, he decided to venture to the Room of Requirement. He still needed to leave a follow-up message where Ravenclaw's Diadem had been, just in case Quirrell decided to search for it after getting the riddle.