“Wait, where’s the bloody lever?!” Fred panicked.
“They broke it off and then cast Reducto on it,” Sol answered grimly. He pointed at the powder at their feet.
“Then, what are we supposed to do? Can you cast Reparo on it?”
“It’s broken into atoms! You think Reparo’s going to do anything? At this point, our best course of action is to somehow make a lever. Either that or, somehow, push the part that’s still inside the groove.” Sol and Fred took a look at the train’s control board. The thrust lever came out of the grooves of the control board and inside the grooves; a small part of the lever remained.
“Isn’t the second one easier?” Fred asked. “We just have to jam something in there and pull.” Pushing the lever increased the speed, while pulling decreased it.
“It is. Let’s get to it, then! Get me a piece of metal.”
“Where are we going to find metal here? No, wait! Why not use Accio on the stump?”
“Interesting question; I don’t know if the lever is attached to anything else, which I imagine it is. So, Accio would either bring me the entire contraption or not do anything at all. The first is bad regardless of what might happen next, and the second is useless. Now, the metal, chop chop!”
“Alright, while I do that, you think of a magical way to solve the problem,” Fred said as he walked out of the engine.
“Way ahead of you, mate.”
As Sol waited for Fred, he thought of the possible spells. “None of them are viable except….” Sol walked to the door of the engine. It was a wooden sliding door with a small circular glass window. Sol took his wand out and smashed the window. As the shards of glass fell, he took one of the bigger shards and waved his wand at it. Soon, the shard began to change. What he was doing right now was transfiguring the glass into a metal thrust lever. However, before it was finished, he broke the spell, and the shard returned back to glass.
He walked back and took a look at the stump of the lever that remained in the groove. Once he had a firm image of it, he transfigured the glass shard again. This time, he finished the spell. The shard had transformed into a thrust lever that was not connected to anything with a hole at the bottom of its shaft. He inserted the lever into the groove, and it connected with the leftover stump.
Just as he was about to pull the lever, the door suddenly opened, and Fred came in, “You can just transfigure somethi- oi, where’d you get that?”
“Transfigured it!” Sol smirked and pulled the lever.
Back in the other carriages, Katie and Cormac had finally come out of their cabin and were rushing to the engine.
“Once I get a hold of him-” Cormac fumed, “-I’ll punch the daylights out of him!”
“Wow, this might be the first time I agre-” Before she could finish, Katie and Cormac stumbled to the ground as the train screeched.
That was the case for everyone inside the train. The change in inertia had made everyone either fall or stumble, even Sol and Fred.
“Oi, what in the bloody hell? A warning would be good!” Fred screamed at Sol from the ground.
“What!? I didn’t press the brakes!” Sol got up and looked at the thrust lever; at the bottom end of the groove where it was currently on, it said ‘halt.’ Sol cursed silently. “What kind of train has the brakes in the same place as the accelerator?”
“Yeah, that was my bad,” Sol sighed and apologized.
“Yeah, yeah, does that mean we’re finally out of it?” Fred asked with hope.
“Yeah,” Sol smiled, “we survived.”
“Whoo! We did it!” Fred cheered and hugged Sol, who had sat back down on the floor. He then left the engine to announce the news. Sitting in the engine room, Sol later heard the cheers from the other carriages. He threw his head back, leaned against the train's control board, and exhaled deeply. His wounds stung. Some splinters were still inside his body.
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Propping up one leg on the floor, he relaxed. It was a dumb thing to do. He felt drunk on the atmosphere. He did it. He stopped R; he kept everyone safe this time. Closing his eyes, he wondered, “I think that warrants a rest, doesn’t it?”
“Sol!” he heard familiar voices again. He opened his eyes and looked. Katie and Cormac in front of him. The expected rage nowhere on their face, only worry and relief.
He smiled slightly and closed his eyes again, “Yo.”
“Bugger off!” the two of them scolded him together and knelt down to hug him.
“Guys, you’re acting like I’m about to die,” Sol chuckled. “I’m just fin-”
“I know you’re hurt, Sol,” Katie’s eyes stared straight into his. He had nothing to hide.
“Yeah, I am. It’s making me a bit sleepy,” he smiled tiredly. All the tension had been released from his body, leaving behind exhaustion.
“Don’t worry; it’ll be just right, mate,” Cormac assured him. He had stopped hugging Sol and was standing again. “Though we’ll have a serious chat later on.”
“That’s for later,” Katie chided him. She turned around and smiled warmly at Sol, “You can rest now; we’ll take you to Madam Pomfrey.”
Sol looked at her in surprise and wanted to get up, but her warm embrace wasn’t doing him any favors. Sol gave up resisting. He decided to listen to her this time. He nodded, “Yeah, got it. I’ll be in your care.”
He had one last thought as he closed his eyes and drifted off.
“Curse this body of mine….”
----------------------------------------
Headmaster Dumbledore walked back into his office. An exhausted sigh escaped his lips as he closed the wooden door behind him. The unexpected attack on the Hogwarts Express has caused numerous problems for the students as well as him. Being the Headmaster, he could partly shift the blame, but he could not absolve himself of it completely, and neither did he want to do so.
It was a blessing from Merlin that there were no casualties in this attack. Injuries, yes, but no casualties. It made him relieved and proud that the sixth and seventh-year students were able to hold off the attackers and protect their juniors. While he had no doubt that Hogwarts’ teachings were one of the best in the wizarding world, their bravery had made him surer of this fact.
The Headmaster quietly walked over to his desk and sat down, leaning his body into the leather chair. Tomorrow would be the unceasing letters from the guardians and the summons from the Ministry, not to mention Lucius Malfoy and the board members he paid off trying to relieve him of his position. It was exhausting just thinking about it. Well, of course, they weren’t going to succeed. He had taken measures for it. He had to stay in this school until the time was right.
The wooden door to his office creaked as it flew open. Professor McGonagall had entered with a hurried gait and stood in front of his desk, looking at him with a justifiably worried expression. The Headmaster smiled slightly and asked his colleague, “Well, Minerva, have the students been taken care of?”
“There are-” the Professor read from the parchment in her hand, “-eight injuries, four spell-based, three from blunt force, and…one with cuts, wooden splinters, and blunt force.”
“Is this Poppy’s diagnosis?” the Headmaster asked, referring to the school matron, Poppy Pomfrey.
“It is.”
“And how about the other students?”
“Shaken but unharmed.”
The Headmaster and the Professor silently stared at one another. The silence spoke volumes as the Headmaster had already guessed what she was going to say.
“Minerva-”
“They are children, Albus! And they were attacked under our care!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed hoarsely. “Never has this ever occurred in the history of the school except for that incident 50 years ago.”
“Yes, and I am still grateful that, unlike that time, no innocent lives have been lost. Yet do not mistake my relief for inaction, Minerva. I certainly intend to fight back in whichever way I can. But the first and foremost thing I want to do, no, what I should do, is ease the students’ nerves and give them the happy and enriching school life they’ve come to look forward to from this establishment. And I will not shy away.”
Having felt the Headmaster’s resolve, the Professor seemed to have calmed down slightly, no longer seeming as hysterical. Whatever words she had were stuck in her throat, unable to get out. His wizened face and that sparkle in his eyes reassured her as it had always done.
The Headmaster asked, “And what about Harry Potter and Sol Balor? I’ve heard that the latter has played an extraordinary role in repelling the attackers.”
“Mr. Potter is alright. The Weasley twins protected him, but the attackers never reached their carriage. As for Mr. Balor….” Professor McGonagall hesitated.
“He must be lying in the Hospital Wing with those injuries of his. It’s quite surprising that he held on as long as he did. He never ceases to amaze me,” the Headmaster’s smile widened ever so slightly.
“He has many injuries but not one of them grievous. Apparently, he had patched many more by himself. Poppy seems to want to take him under his wing though that will have to come later.”
“Poppy should be able to treat him swiftly. Well, after he wakes up, I think I deserve a well-deserved chat with him.”
“Oh, Albus!” the Professor chided, “Don’t bombard the child with your incessant questions! Let him rest.”
The Headmaster nodded, “That I will do. But right now, have the students been escorted to the great hall?”
“Yes, Severus and Filius have taken them to the Great Hall. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the liberty to serve them food. I hope this calms them down.”
“I don’t mind in the slightest, Minerva. Rather, it was the right thing to do. Anyway-” the Headmaster pushed the chair back and got up. “-I believe it’s time for me to soothe them, and tomorrow, I’ll soothe the Ministry.”
“Please!” Professor McGonagall made an inviting gesture as the two of them left the Headmaster’s office.