"Fire-Making Spell!" Filch's eyes lit up. Successfully casting the Wand-Lighting Charm had doubled his confidence.
While studying the Quick Spell Correspondence Course, he had indeed mastered the casting technique for the Fire-Making Spell.
"I should be able to!" He nodded excitedly, raised his wand again, and swept it through a precise, powerful arc. "Fiendfyre!"
A cluster of flames shot from the tip of his wand and instantly swelled into a fireball the size of a basketball.
The fireball floated in midair, dancing lively as it gave off astonishing heat and light, like a newly risen morning sun.
Filch took two steps closer, letting the firelight flush his face red.
His eye sockets reddened too. He let out an uncontrollable sob, his shoulders heaving violently, and that sob quickly turned into unrestrained, heart-rending wails that echoed through the entire Round Hall.
Filch cried like a child. The resentment, jealousy, and unwillingness that had tormented him year after year were utterly torn apart in those howls and poured out.
Dumbledore and the others were the first to stand. Smiling, they raised their hands and clapped with all their might.
The wizards quickly reacted as well, rising like Dumbledore and clapping just as hard.
Boom!
The applause swelled rapidly, exploding like thunder.
Cheers rang out at that moment too, intertwining with the thunderous applause to form a tidal roar, as if it could drown the entire Round Hall.
"Merlin's beard!" A Minister of Magic stood up, clapping with all his strength. "He did it! He really did it!"
No matter how much the wizards present had ignored Squibs before, at this moment they were infected by Filch's cries.
The scrutiny and suspicion on their faces vanished completely, leaving only pure shock and blessing.
As for most of the Muggle World's high-level figures, their