After the conflict ended, the atmosphere in the Great Hall gradually settled down.
Harry walked over to Charlie, his eyes full of gratitude.
"Charlie, thank you."
"It was nothing."
"I can't stand Malfoy either."
Neville, however, sat off to the side with his head hanging, looking completely dejected.
Malfoy's words still echoed in his mind, every one of them stabbing at his heart.
Ron hurried over to sit beside Neville and patted his shoulder.
"Neville, don't listen to Malfoy's rubbish."
Ron's tone was earnest.
"That guy's a jerk."
"You're way better than him. Really."
But Neville was still miserable. He lowered his head and said quietly,
"But he's right."
"I really am stupid. I still haven't learned a single decent spell."
"Even Seamus can do magic. I'm the only one who can't do anything."
Seamus: "?"
Come on, mate. If you weren't so upset right now, I'd really sock you.
Neville's voice grew softer, and his eyes turned red.
Charlie couldn't take it anymore and sat down beside him.
"Neville, don't let what other people say get to you."
Charlie spoke calmly.
"If someone bullies you, hit them back."
"I used to get bullied too, but I beat them all up. After that, nobody bullied me again."
Neville jerked his head up, his eyes wide with surprise.
"What? You got bullied too, Charlie?"
Neville could hardly believe it.
"But you're so strong. You can even beat a Troll."
"Being strong isn't something you're born with. I worked hard to get where I am," Charlie said leisurely.
"Eventually, I learned something."
"The more afraid of trouble you are, the more trouble finds you. The tougher you are, the less people dare to mess with you."
Harry nodded, deeply agreeing. Dudley was always bullying him; the more Harry let Dudley get away with it, the bolder Dudley became.
Neville was still discouraged.
"But I really am stupid. Just like Malfoy said, I haven't learned a single spell."
"I really don't have any talent for magic."
Charlie patted his shoulder.
"Whether you're stupid isn't for other people to decide. There's something you're good at—you just haven't discovered it yet."
"Think about which class you do best in."
Neville's eyes brightened a little.
"I'm pretty good at Herbology. Professor Sprout praised me."
"She said I have a talent for plants and can sense what they need."
"There you go."
"You're better at Herbology than most people. Doesn't that count as talent?"
"Spells are only one part of magic, not the whole thing."
"Even if you're not as good as him with spells, you've still got your fists."
"I heard Gryffindor's founder had a sword. He didn't even like using spells—he just charged in with his sword."
"Courage matters more than magic."
Those words lifted Neville's spirits completely, and his eyes shone.
"That's right. I can learn swordsmanship, or just use my fists."
He clenched his fists, his whole demeanor changing as if a switch had been flipped.
Watching Neville's excitement, Charlie's heart sank.
Had he just led Neville astray? Would Professor McGonagall come after him?
Just then, Harry edged closer, looking nervous, and lowered his voice.
"Charlie, I wanted to ask you something."
"Could you put a spell on my broom so Malfoy can't curse me?"
Charlie froze for a moment.
"You really think Malfoy's powerful enough to curse you?"
"He can only run his mouth. If he really wanted to do something, he would've done it already."
But Harry was still worried and said anxiously,
"What if Malfoy gets Snape to curse me?"
"His dad's a School Governor. Snape will definitely listen to him."
Charlie rolled his eyes inwardly.
Would Snape, with his contrarian personality, listen to someone else? What nonsense.
"You don't know Snape well enough."
"Besides, I'm in the same year as you. Do you think I know a spell like that?"
Only then did Harry realize, and he awkwardly scratched his head.
"Sorry, Charlie. It's just that you make it easy to forget how old you are."
"It feels like you can do anything."
Charlie shook his head.
"If you're really worried, go ask Professor McGonagall for help."
"If Malfoy can go to his Head of House, so can you."
Harry's eyes lit up.
"Right! How did I not think of that?"
After thanking Charlie, he hurried off, full of excitement.
Charlie picked up a chicken leg from the table and got back to eating.
Harry jogged all the way to Professor McGonagall's office. He waited outside for quite a while, taking several deep breaths before he finally dared to knock.
He was still a little in awe of the stern professor.
"Come in."
Harry opened the door and entered. Professor McGonagall was marking assignments and didn't even look up.
Harry suddenly regretted not bringing Charlie along.
"Mr. Potter, what is it?"
"Professor, I was hoping you could help me with something," Harry said softly.
Professor McGonagall put down her quill and looked up at him.
"Go on."
"Professor, could you cast a spell on my broom to stop anyone from cursing it?"
Professor McGonagall frowned.
"A curse? Mr. Potter, what are you worried about?"
"Well... Malfoy said today that he was going to curse me so I'd fall during the Quidditch Match," Harry stammered.
"Ridiculous," Professor McGonagall said sternly.
"No one at this school would curse a student."
Harry saw that Professor McGonagall wasn't moved, and anxiety welled up inside him.
Then, he had a sudden inspiration.
"Professor, actually, this was Charlie's idea!"
Professor McGonagall frowned. Harry might act foolishly, but Charlie probably wouldn't. Why would he bring this up?
"Mr. White said that?"
"Yes, yes!" Harry quickly nodded.
"Charlie said that although the professors at school are all upright, there's no guarantee someone might not secretly interfere with the Match."
"He suggested I come to you and ask for a protective charm on my broom."
Professor McGonagall fell into thought.
Charlie had a point. She wouldn't interfere with the Match, but certain professors who liked wearing black robes might show favoritism toward students from their own House.
Although she didn't believe Snape would seriously harm a student, who knew what he might do during a Quidditch Match, when House pride was at stake?
"Mr. White has thought this through very carefully," Professor McGonagall said, nodding slowly.
"It would indeed be better to take precautions."
She stood and paced back and forth around the office.
"However, putting a protective charm on only your broom would seem unfair."
Professor McGonagall stopped and looked at Harry.
"I've decided to put a charm that repels curses on all the competitors' brooms."
"That way, no one will be able to interfere with the Match."
With his goal achieved, Harry left the office in high spirits.
Professor McGonagall was quick to act.
Early the next morning, she found the Heads of the Four Houses and the Quidditch captains to discuss adding protective charms.
The Heads and captains had no objections, and so all the competitors' brooms were enchanted with protective charms.
Professor Snape just felt rather awkward while casting the charm. Professor McGonagall was looking at him strangely.
Before you continue