Chapter 20: Professor, You Have to Believe Me!

An hour later—

"So, to be clear," Professor McGonagall began, her voice dangerously sharp, "this is your explanation for why Mr. Malfoy ended up in the hospital wing?"

"Professor, I didn't do it!" Harry pleaded, his voice earnest. "I never meant to attack him. I used the Serpensortia charm to summon the snake, but only to scare him, to make him back off! I swear, the snake didn't even touch him. It just slithered over his foot, and he got so scared that he fainted on his own!"

McGonagall’s stare was piercing. "So you are suggesting that Mr. Malfoy's cries of 'It bit me!' and 'It's trying to kill me!' on the train were simply… a product of his imagination?"

"They were! It was all in his head! Everyone saw it!"

Oh, come on, Professor, Harry thought desperately, you have to believe me!

He tried to convey his sincerity with his eyes, hoping to move the stern, tall witch before him. But Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, did not seem particularly moved. Her gaze remained as cold and unyielding as granite.

Harry had been personally escorted to her office by Ron's prefect brother, Percy. At first, Percy had only heard rumors of a conflict and had gone to restore order. But in his own words: 'When we arrived, Malfoy was already on the ground. Crabbe and Goyle were so terrified they couldn't speak, just kept repeating that Harry was trying to kill them.'

Faced with such a grim scene, Percy had, with righteous impartiality, placed his duty over family and brought both Ron and Harry straight to Professor McGonagall.

Now, under the flickering light of the office’s single lantern, McGonagall’s face looked even more intimidating, like that of an angry eagle, her presence filling the room with a heavy pressure.

After a few tense seconds, Ron couldn't help but jump to Harry’s defense.

"Professor, that snake really didn't touch Malfoy! I saw it! It just brushed past his foot, and he fainted from fright! It was his own—"

"What did the snake look like?" McGonagall interrupted him.

"Oh! Well, it was tiny. No thicker than a finger and about as long as my forearm. I mean, the black scales were a bit creepy, I guess, but it wasn't dangerous at all. You could hardly call it an attack spell."

"And besides, Professor, Malfoy insulted our families first! It was him who—"

"Enough!"

McGonagall's sharp command made Ron flinch. She looked at them with a deep, exasperated disappointment.

"Have you missed the point entirely, Mr. Weasley? Mr. Potter?" she asked. "The point is not whether your magic is frightening. The point is why you were casting it on the train in the first place! While a verbal dispute may feel unjust, you are expected to seek the help of a prefect, not take matters into your own hands and use magic on a fellow student!"

She turned her gaze to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, this is Mr. Potter's first real exposure to our world. Is it yours? Did you truly believe your own brother wouldn't have given you a fair hearing?"

"I would have, Professor!" Percy chimed in from the doorway where he was still waiting.

McGonagall paid him no mind, her sharp eyes still fixed on Harry and Ron. "If you were adults," she concluded icily, "you would both be on your way to Azkaban right now. Your sentences might differ—Malfoy for a month, you two for a fortnight—but your lives would be ruined!"

The color drained from Ron's face, replaced by a look of utter despair. "So… we're being expelled, then?"

Professor McGonagall paused for a fraction of a second. "…I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Weasley, but you will remain here to receive seven years of rigorous education to ensure you never make such a mistake again. The 'Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery' does not currently apply to first-year students. While I intend to propose a change to that statute, you have broken no existing laws. Therefore, your punishment will be one month's detention, and a warning that any repeat offense will result in suspension."

Harry and Ron let out a huge, collective sigh of relief. Harry couldn't even begin to imagine being expelled. Tucking his tail between his legs and returning to the Dursleys? Going to Stonewall High? For him, having seen this magical world only to lose it would be a fate worse than death.

But Professor McGonagall wasn't finished.

"Furthermore—" Her severe gaze landed on Harry. "Mr. Potter, I want you to tell me, truthfully and precisely, where you learned such a dangerous spell."

"Dangerous?" Harry asked, stunned. "I learned it from a book. But the book said it wasn't lethal and the snake wasn't venomous… I thought it was just a minor charm."

"Which book?"

"From Bloodline to Blasphemy."

"It was a gift from Mr. Borgin, from Borgin and Burkes. He said it was an old Black family textbook. He gave it to me when Professor Victor Van der Boom took me to Knockturn Alley."

Professor McGonagall's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Finally, she spoke, her voice tight and dry.

"I see."

"The book is confiscated. And I shall be having a word with Professor Victor."

Meanwhile, the very same Professor Victor was walking alongside Professor Snape toward the Great Hall.

Dressed in his formal robes, Victor possessed an imposing aura. Students in the corridor would startle at the sight of a new professor, then quickly pretend not to be looking, all while stealing glances from the corners of their eyes.

At least half of this reaction was due to the new brooch Snape had given him.

That's right, Snape had gotten his way. After much deliberation, his craving for the rare Night-Solanum Victor possessed had become unbearable. He had procured a brooch from a high-level Slytherin student, added a few of his own precious ingredients to the trade, and had finally persuaded Victor to part with the plant.

The new brooch was a roaring serpent, intricately carved from mithril, its fangs clearly visible, lending it an air of ancient power. This, of course, led everyone to mistake Victor as an associate of Slytherin's Head of House. No one dared to look at him for more than a second.

Who knew if a Slytherin professor would deduct house points just for being stared at? Slytherin’s already fearsome reputation took another hit, with the blame lying squarely at the feet of the formidable Professor Snape.

And so, Victor and Snape proceeded like Moses parting the Red Sea, walking through the lane created by the students who scurried to get out of their path.

The Great Hall was already filled with students, illuminated by hundreds of floating candles under a ceiling enchanted to look like the starry night sky. They were packed together at four long house tables, their robes bearing the crests of their respective houses. The grand, ancient decor made the entire scene feel slightly unreal.

This was true even for Victor. In his world, a gathering of this magnitude would be a beacon for fearful, non-magical zealots, inevitably turning the celebration into a grim contest of casting speed and a one-way ticket to the kingdom's most wanted list.

After most of the students had settled, Professor Dumbledore rose, his eyes twinkling.

"Welcome," he said cheerfully. "Welcome, students. After a summer apart, we are finally reunited once more."

"In the coming school year, I hope you will manage to fill those heads you emptied over the holidays with new knowledge, and share another wonderful year with your professors…"

The hall gradually quieted. But a few moments later, his speech was interrupted as the large, closed doors of the Great Hall were suddenly pushed open again.

Two small heads peeked through the gap, freezing in shock when they realized that every single person inside was staring directly at them.

"Move along, gentlemen," came Professor McGonagall’s firm voice from behind them as she pushed the door fully open. "Hiding will not make this any less awkward."

"…And as you can see, we are also welcoming some new friends," Dumbledore continued with a smile, smoothly weaving the interruption into his speech. "Though they seem a bit boisterous, I assure you this term will be as joyful as any other."

"Very well, I won't waste any more time. Our old friend, the Sorting Hat, is waiting."