“Did you hear what happened?” a second-year Hufflepuff student talked to his friend.

“It was bloody bonkers, I tell ya!” his friend replied exaggeratedly. “Draco Malfoy got mauled by a Hippogriff! The third years said that he might need to cut his arm off.”

“…damn extras who only exist to give exposition,” Sol cursed under his breath. He was sipping a cup of tea in the Grand Hall when he coincidentally heard these two talk.

Even though he heard such shocking news, Sol ignored it and calmly sipped on his tea as he did his homework. Meanwhile, Harry and his friends who were at the same table as him, ground their teeth angrily as Draco showed his arm which was in a thick bandage to a Slytherin girl; that being Pansy Parker.

“Listen to that idiot,” Ron looked at Draco with disdain. “He’s really laying it on thick, isn’t it?”

“At least, Hagrid didn’t get fired,” Harry held back his anger as he spoke.

“Yeah, but I heard Draco’s father is furious. We haven’t heard the end of this,” Hermione sighed.

“I hope they don’t do anything to Hagrid,” Ron hung his head low.

“I don’t think he’d be getting off that easy,” Fred murmured to George when he heard this.

“Yeah, Lucius Malfoy is never going to let anything that hurt is precious child off,” George spoke mockingly.

“Honestly, he might put Hagrid on trial.”

“Maybe even throw him in Azkaban.”

Hermione hit them with a book, “Stop, you’re making it worse!”

Sol stopped writing and looked at a reference book. Without looking up, he said, “Don’t worry too much about it. They took Hagrid away to put him on trial.” He then started writing again. “The Headmaster will definitely object if they dole out an unnecessarily heavy punishment.”

When they heard those words, Harry and his two friends sighed in relief. Just as they were about to say something, they heard Sol’s next words, “Don’t count on the Hippogriff living though.”

Their faces fell instantly.

“What are you saying, Sol!?” Harry slammed his palms on the table and stood up. This prompted everyone else in the Grand Hall to stare at him.

Sol sighed. He looked up from his copy and glared at him, “Sit down.”

Under his scorching glare, Harry meekly sat down again. He looked at Sol intently, waiting for him to explain.

Sol sighed and closed his books, “Did you honestly think that nothing would come out from this? If Hagrid doesn’t get punished, someone will. And that someone is the Hippogriff.”

“Why Buckbeak though?” Ron looked annoyed.

“Then would you rather want Hagrid to get punished?”

“N-No, that’s not what I mea-”

“Yeah, I know,” Sol nodded. Fucking hell, it’s only been like a week and this happens. Am I cursed? Nah, it’s probably the school.

“I don’t know how you can stay calm in this situation,” Hermione looked at him in wonder. Sol averted his eyes. He knew very well that this wasn’t genuine wonder but just a prelude to her getting angry. And her trigger would be an answer she didn’t like.

Sol sighed, making himself look helpless, “What do you want me to do? I’m not calm; I’ve just come to terms with the situation. And besides, it’s not like whatever I say will end up happening. It’s just speculation.”

“Hmm…? I don’t know you seemed pretty confident,” it was as though Sol could see an increasing anger meter beside her head.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Be logical, Hermione. You’re overrea- just calm down, will you?” Sol wiped the non-existent sweat from his forehead.

“Hmph!” she snorted and stopped paying attention to him.

Bomb defused. Sol quietly opened his homework and started doing it. Meanwhile, Ron and Harry looked at each other and decided to say nothing.

Sol didn’t want to do anything with this matter. It seems some of my actions really have no effect.

After a while, Harry, Hermione, and Ron exited the castle and walked towards the Black Lake in a gloomy mood.

“Well, like Sol said- Hagrid was taken to trial…” Harry hugged his knees. He sat on the shores of the lake. It looked particularly peaceful under the setting sun.

“Well, if he continues being on right, then I don’t think Hagrid will be punished all that much,” Hermione came over and sat beside him.

“But doesn’t that mean-” Harry took his eyes off the lake and looked at her. He had an exasperated expression, “-Buckbeak will be executed?”

“Just like Sol said, we can only wait and ask Hagrid.”

“I think it’s almost a guarantee that Buckbeak will be executed,” Ron shook his head. “I have faith in Sol. He’s usually always right.”

“This is where you choose to have faith in him?” Hermione smacked his head.

“I…ugh!” Rom gave up. He seemed to have realized that he had said the wrong thing.

“Anyway,” Harry got up and dusted his pants off, “let’s not think about this too much. As long as it’s not confirmed, there’s always a chance that Buckbeak won’t get executed.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed with him and got up as well.

Ron hid his grim face and sighed before following behind them.

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

After another week, the Headmaster came back with Hagrid. While Harry and his friends went to meet Hagrid, Sol was summoned by the Headmaster. This worked out for Sol since he had some choice words for Professor Dumbledore after reading today's ‘Daily Prophet’.

Climbing up the statue, Sol reached the door to the Headmaster’s office. He took a deep breath to suppress his emotions and opened the wooden door. Inside, he saw the Headmaster looking at some parchment as he kneaded his forehead. The sight eased Sol’s headache a bit as he took a seat in a much better mood.

When he saw Sol, Dumbledore calmly put down the parchments in his hand and greeted him, “Mr. Balor, thank you for coming.”

“Well, I can’t exactly refuse a summons from the Headmaster now, can I?” Sol’s smile looked as fake as possible. He watched Dumbledore pretend to not see it and pour some tea for the both of them.

Dumbledore handed Sol a cup of tea as he sat down and sipped on his cup. After a sip, he felt his head clear. He looked at Sol and said, “Sirius Black has finally been cleared from his charge and set free. Peter Pettigrew has to serve life imprisonment in Azkaban.”

“Well, Headmaster, that’s well and all but-” he slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet on his desk, “-what even is this article?” On the front page was a picture of Sirius Black but it looked as though a stalker took it. But that wasn’t the problem; the real problem was the headline which read- ‘The Framing of Sirius Black, Incompetence of the Ministry?’ The entire article was written with two-thirds fabrication and one-third actual facts.

“That’s the handiwork of Rita Skeeter,” Dumbledore sighed, “She’s one of the journalists under the Daily Prophet. Her writing is enchantingly nasty.”

“Why didn’t the Ministry suppress this?” Sol rubbed his face irritatedly.

“It’s not that they didn’t, it’s that they couldn’t.”

“Headmaster, I understand that this case has turned out to be more than what the Ministry could handle but surely they could adjust this title?”

Dumbledore smiled gingerly, “If I can guess what happened, it’s honestly a case of Fudge asking the press to downplay the news a bit but as always, Ms. Skeeter went above and overboard.”

“Is it possible she knows of my involvement?” Sol mumbled.

“I’d like to say no but to my knowledge, she’s always had a mysterious way to gather intel no one else can.”

Sol sighed and shifted his eyes. On the desk, a string of words on a parchment caught his eye.

“Headmaster, what’s this ‘Cursed Vaults’?” before Dumbledore could react, Sol grabbed the parchment and read it. The contents made his pupils constrict.

“Mr. Balor, the Cursed Vaults are exactly what you’d think- hidden vaults that are cursed.”

“H-Headmaster, it says that these vaults are scattered throughout the school. But that can’t be right; everyone should be talking about it.”

“Considering the nature of this topic, we’ve tried our best to keep it under wraps,” Dumbledore took another sip from his cup.

“No wait, it says that vaults were opened once in the mid-70s. Cursed ice, sleepwalking curse…these are not things people simply forget about.”

“Of course not. The older generations still remember these horrors. You probably don’t hear about the vaults because your peers know nothing as well.”

Sol’s eyes still hadn’t moved from the parchment, “Who opened these vaults before?”

“A brilliant student,” Dumbledore had some sadness in his eyes. “Someone who was led to madness.”

“Don’t tell me, they were killed in the vaults?”

“Nothing of the sort. We simply expelled him.”

“For?”

“For accidentally killing a student.”

Receiving such heavy news, Sol exhaled loudly and slumped into the chair. He took another glance at the parchment.

“Headmaster, who is this ‘R’?” Sol placed the parchment back onto the table.

“Some people who covet the rumored treasures inside the final Cursed Vaults,” Dumbledore explained briefly.

“Is it for immortality?”

“It’s for immortality.”

What a fucking cliché!