Chapter 53: Fool
Professor Flitwick always seemed impossibly busy.
After briefly checking their progress with the Levitation Charm, leaving behind a few notebooks filled with helpful tips, and awarding them a couple of house points, he hurried out of the hidden room, his parting words echoing in Sean's Quick-Quotes Quill:
"A classroom reserved for wise young wizards rarely chooses poorly. You children have done exceptionally well! But I must ask, if you can make a feather spin, why not try levitating that small table over there?"
"I do not encourage young wizards to learn difficult spells ahead of schedule, but for those with a particular aptitude, I advise you to embrace your talent and master the more interesting charms in 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1' early on. The Summoning Charm and the Water-Making Spell are both exceedingly practical. I hope these notes prove helpful."
As he spoke, Professor Flitwick had given Sean a subtle wink.
"Once you have a firm grasp of the required first-year spells, you will find the mysteries of non-verbal magic awaiting you. One can never have too much knowledge!"
He had then bustled out, muttering to himself, "Just like Miss Clearwater. She finished the entire year's Charms curriculum already, so I encouraged her to attempt non-verbal casting… Oh, I'd best hurry along. No telling what Miss Clearwater might set alight this time… Last time, I believe it was Professor Quirrell's turban…"
Sean blinked. The Ravenclaw prefect… set Quirrell's turban on fire?
"Alright," Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts. "I need to tell you two a secret."
Sean and Justin exchanged glances and settled down beside her on the small sofa. Dusk gathered outside, and the flickering light of the magical lanterns cast long, dancing shadows, creating an atmosphere both cozy and strangely intense.
"Do you remember what Professor Dumbledore said?" Hermione began seriously.
"'Let the feast begin'?" Justin guessed.
"'Anyone who does not wish to suffer a most painful death should avoid the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side'?" Sean offered.
Justin and Sean stared at each other, surprised.
"Sean, that wasn't the first thing you thought of?" Justin asked, incredulous.
Sean considered for a moment. "My mistake."
"Honestly, you two!" Hermione huffed, slapping the small table for emphasis. Justin immediately shrunk down like a chastened puppy, and even Sean felt his posture deflate slightly.
"Professor Dumbledore was right," Hermione continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Anyone who doesn't want to die a horrible death should stay away from there…"
Sean noticed Justin tense beside him. "So, you went in? Hermione? What happened? Are you alright?"
"It wasn't my fault! I didn't want to break the rules, but Harry…"
"Hermione, I don't care about the rules, and frankly, I don't care about Harry Potter right now," Justin interrupted, his voice trembling slightly at the mention of death. "I only care about one thing: are you alright?"
Sean saw Hermione's eyes well up.
"I… I'm fine…" she stammered. "Well, I almost died."
Justin shot to his feet, his breathing suddenly ragged. "Harry Potter? That Harry Potter? What did he do?! Damn it, I'm going to find him and demand an explanation!"
Sean gently pulled Justin back down. His friend's rational mind seemed to evaporate whenever Hermione was upset, only returning with Sean's calming influence. "Perhaps we should hear the rest of Hermione's story first? Harry isn't going anywhere, right?"
Lightning flashed outside, followed by a low rumble of thunder. The weather in the Scottish Highlands was notoriously fickle. But inside their small haven, the storm felt distant.
"Useless Gryffindor coward," Justin muttered angrily. "Good for nothing but getting others into trouble!"
As Hermione recounted the events of the previous night – Malfoy's challenge, Ron's impulsive agreement, Peeves's intervention, Filch's pursuit, and their desperate flight into the forbidden corridor – Justin's fury grew. From his perspective, Harry was a fool for accepting the duel, and Ron was an idiot for provoking Peeves. Hermione, driven by her sense of house unity and a desire to prevent them from losing points, had only tried to help, even using a charm to unlock the door for their escape, and had nearly paid for their recklessness with her life. If he had been there, Justin fumed silently, he would have knocked their useless heads together!
Sean felt a nagging sense that something wasn't quite right with Justin's interpretation, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"It was a three-headed dog," Hermione shuddered, the memory clearly still vivid. The fear in her eyes began to fade, replaced by the exhaustion of a sleepless night. "Its teeth were enormous, sharp enough to crush bone, and its saliva… it looked corrosive. It must be guarding something… there was a trapdoor…" Her voice trailed off as sleep finally claimed her.
Justin gently tucked a blanket around her sleeping form, his expression hardening into a mask of cold fury. He stood up, clearly intending to leave.
Sean sighed. He knew exactly where Justin was going.
"Professor Dumbledore isn't ignorant of what happens within these walls," Sean said quietly. "Hermione said the dog was guarding something. I suspect this is all part of the Headmaster's plan. If he allowed it to happen, it means it wasn't truly dangerous. Remember, Hermione said the dog didn't actually attack them."
Justin stood silently for a long moment. "You're always wise, Sean. But my mother also said that if doing what's necessary makes you look like a fool… then so be it." He turned towards the door. "I don't care about the Headmaster's plans. All I know is that Hermione almost died behind that door. If no one speaks up for her, does her suffering count for nothing?"
Lightning briefly illuminated Sean's thoughtful profile. Alright, he conceded internally. It really is nice to have a Hufflepuff for a friend. Dumbledore might not care about Justin's protest, but Hermione would. That was what mattered.
Sean wasn't worried about the overall plot. Everything was unfolding according to Dumbledore's design – at least in this first year. It was, in essence, a fairytale. The Cerberus wouldn't kill anyone, the Philosopher's Stone wouldn't be stolen, and Voldemort was essentially just a training dummy for Harry.
His own situation, however, felt far more precarious. If he didn't secure that scholarship, he wouldn't even have money for quills, let alone extra textbooks. Compared to the distant threat of Voldemort, the immediate prospect of being unable to afford his education was far more terrifying.
Professor Flitwick practically spelled it out for me, Sean thought, looking at the sleeping Hermione. Levitation Charm needs to be at least Adept level, preferably with some non-verbal practice. And I need to learn the Summoning Charm and the Water-Making Spell…
His immediate goal was clear: grind proficiency. Get his Charms skills to a high level, then approach Professor Flitwick about learning the defensive spells not covered in the first-year curriculum.
Collect the final scholarship fragment, and assemble the 600 Galleon grand prize.