"Sorry, but William, this is clearly against the rules—"
Professor McGonagall, staring at the chaos among the crowd, quickly stepped forward. Although she, as the deputy headmistress, didn't quite understand why William, a seventh-year who hadn't graduated or served as a Prefect or Head Boy, could somehow deduct points from the Houses, evidently just now when William spoke, the yellow diamonds in Hufflepuff's Hourglass indeed increased significantly.
"Hufflepuff, deduct fifty points. Sorry, I have to do this, for fairness."
Seeing Professor Meow with a stern face, the Hufflepuff little wizards, who were just about to cheer, made disappointed noises.
"Ah, Professor McGonagall, take a look, the Slytherin points are overflowing this year, if we don't work harder—"
William attempted to enlist Professor Meow onto his 'pirate ship', but clearly, she wasn't intending to join him in any underhanded dealings. It was hard to say how much this had to do with Snape standing behind her, but since William saw no hope of pulling anyone into the water, he simply switched tactics, "Okay, but fighting must have punishment, Slytherin, deduct two hundred—"
"Slytherin House, deduct ten points!"
As soon as William changed his tone, Snape's reaction was incredibly swift, as he rushed forward to interrupt William's attempt to deduct two million points from Slytherin. The man looked sullen, his hawk-like gaze sweeping over the little wizards, "And—Mr. Draco Malfoy, you will be having a week of detention."
"Ah—"
William echoed the Hufflepuff little wizards' disappointed sound, though he glanced at Malfoy. Due to being stared at intensely by a certain castle caretaker, Malfoy's face had turned unnaturally pale and William pondered for a moment—
"But evidently, the cause of this was me, so Mr. Malfoy's detention should be handed over to me, starting next week... Alright, Mr. Filch, put that thing away, I'll punish him."
"Okay."
Filch sighed and put away the tools he used to intimidate the lower-year wizards.
As Filch grudgingly carried away his pile of rusted, intimidating 'toys', William nodded in satisfaction. Then, he turned around and gave a smile, somewhere between innocent and mischievous, to Professor McGonagall, Snape, and the professors behind them, "Since that's settled, you can all get busy—"
"Oh, William, you really don't plan on joining us?"
Professor Flitwick's tone was a bit sharp, only then did everyone notice several professors had gathered outside the Great Hall doors, including Professor Sprout, the old auntie in a turban. She was fretting over the scant yellow gems in the House Hourglass, because Cedric and Harry being Champions this year had led to quite a few conflicts between their little wizards and others—
"Minister Fudge fired me, didn't he?"
William smiled lightly, bearing an air of 'mock casualness' that made Snape instinctively look away, though some were taken in by it.
"But the Wizengamot hasn't started yet, William, you shouldn't blame yourself—"
Professor Sprout came around, unconsciously comforting William, "It's not your fault, it was a two-thousand-year-old Black Wizard, and those Goblins—you've already done your best, don't blame yourself too much."
"Rest assured, Professor Sprout—"
William waved his hand to show there's no need to worry, after watching the professors leave, he turned around, "Well, looks like today's breakfast entertainment has ended—great," he clapped his hands to gather everyone's attention, "Alright, disperse, go eat, drink, don't take things too hard—"
"Then, Malfoy, remember to apologize to Miss Pansy Parkinson, oh, look at her face, ouch—"
Then, exaggeratingly, as he walked toward the Hufflepuff Long Table, "Miss Parkinson, I hope you don't cry anymore, better let Madam Pomfrey see you sooner, maybe it won't scar?"
"...Wow!"
Thus, just helped up and still sobbing, Pansy instinctively touched her swollen cheek, emitted a lamenting cry, and without even waiting for Malfoy's apology, she ran out of the Great Hall covering her face, at an amazing speed.
"She practically flew out." Ron couldn't help but comment.
Elsewhere, when William sat at the Long Table, the Hufflepuff little wizards erupted in a brief yet muted cheer (since Professor McGonagall hadn't gone far), for the House points, although deducted by Professor McGonagall, they still felt like they'd seen a ray of hope!
"Our very own Hufflepuff's Snape!"
Evidently, most of the little wizards thought William's shameless approach to gaining points rivaled Snape's, but Justin Finchley, who blurted out the words, still encountered the 'angry stares' from others, "Don't compare our great, brilliant Senior William with that old Bat Spirit!" Zacharias Smith couldn't suppress a shout.
"Ha, so now you're part of 'Team William'?"
So, Hannah Abbott sitting across from him squinted and teased sarcastically.
"'William Faction'? What's that this time? Like my fan club?"
As William piled fried eggs and sausages onto his plate, he curiously asked. Having eaten privately in the Room of Requirement for over half a month, he hadn't had the pleasure of dining in the cafeteria for a while. Humans are probably creatures like this; although the English breakfast in the hall couldn't be considered tasty, going without it for too long made people nostalgic—
This nostalgia lasted only until the first fried egg entered his mouth. Chewing on the somewhat tough egg, William began to miss salty tofu pudding, although he had just eaten it yesterday.
"Sort of. You're quite controversial among the students now—"
The little Greengrass girl sitting next to William pinched her nose and said, "Now the students are divided into several factions. Some support you, some think you're just like the newspapers say, and some are stirring things up because they want both sides to fight, making it easier for them to snatch the House Cup—yes, it's those Ravenclaws."
"Haha, so which side are you on?" William laughed and asked.
"Neither, but if you let Norbert out to play, I might support you. I haven't seen that little dragon in a long time—" The girl wrinkled her nose, and as her words fell, a small "lizard" poked its head out from William's sleeve, coughing a breath of dragon flame at her.
"Oh? It's been with you all this time..."
Before the girl could finish, she was crowded aside by someone suddenly squeezing in. Hermione placed her plate down, smiled at William, and then Harry, Neville, Cedric, Fleur...a bunch of people appeared around William like mushrooms after rain.
"Senior!"
Cedric was the first to speak, the boy's handsome face filled with indignation. "Wizengamot... no, is Fudge really going to put you on trial?" After receiving William's affirmative answer, the boy couldn't help but curse, "But that's all fabricated by that bastard, those dogs in the newspapers..."
The boy paused, seemingly realizing his next choice of words was inappropriate for the dining table, and rephrased, "Those irresponsible reports are pure slander! I, Harry, Fleur, and Daniel, we are all witnesses! We can all testify that the despicable Helbo is indeed still alive! The dangers we encountered were not your fault!"
"Cedric's right!" Harry nodded quickly.
"Those politicians only deflect responsibility at critical moments, manipulating public opinion and people's minds—"
Fleur nodded, then said, her gaze sweeping over the still-whispering crowds in the hall, her voice suddenly rising, "Look at those fools sitting around, their brains as smooth as if a bunch of trolls had licked them—what are you looking at? I'm talking about you!"
A sixth-year Slytherin wizard heard Fleur's words, looked over angrily, but was glared back by the girl.
"Fleur's right!" Harry continued to nod.
Ron stuffed some bacon into his mouth and mumbled unclearly, "Absolutely! That old Fudge must have bought off a lot of people. He's desperate to pin all the blame on you. Dad says he's practically been blinded by lard—and Percy got... huh? Have you guys seen Percy recently?"
"So, is everything still going according to your plan, Senior?"
Neville summed up everyone's comments, choosing to ignore the question about Percy, and everyone turned to look at William.
William leisurely cut a piece of pancake drenched in honey, put it in his mouth, and took a sip of steaming hot tea before finally looking up. His deep gray-blue eyes contained neither the anger nor anxiety everyone had imagined, but rather a sense of almost leisurely calm, a faint and barely perceptible smile on his lips.
For some reason, everyone's anxious hearts became much more settled.
"Plan? What plan?"
But William's words that followed were not so "reassuring."
"...That Fudge is persecuting you!"
Harry's tone held some urgency as he blurted out, "Hermione told us you had a plan, but the Wizengamot is having a trial tomorrow. You... wait, the Head Warlock of the Wizengamot seems to be... so, Senior, is Professor Dumbledore supporting you?"
The boy suddenly looked enlightened, as though he had seen through the truths of the world—
"Oh, unfortunately, for some reasons, Professor Dumbledore can only attend as part of the jury—"
William shook his head, still not willing to explain, merely watching Harry and the others scratch their heads with a slight curl of his lips.
Being The Riddler is so damn fun—