Enchanting the Broom with a Protective Spell

After the conflict ended, the atmosphere in the Great Hall gradually calmed down.

Harry walked up to Charlie, his eyes full of gratitude.

"Charlie, thank you."

"No big deal."

"I can't stand Malfoy either."

Neville, however, sat slumped to one side, completely deflated.

Malfoy's words still echoed in his mind, every one of them stabbing into his heart.

Ron quickly sat down next to Neville and patted him on the shoulder.

"Neville, don't listen to Malfoy's rubbish."

Ron's tone was serious:

"That bloke's a right git."

"You're way better than him, really."

But Neville was still dejected, head down as he muttered:

"But he's not wrong, is he?"

"I really am thick. I still haven't learned a single decent spell."

"Even Seamus can do magic, but I can't do anything."

Seamus: "?"

Mate, if you weren't so upset right now, I'd have a go at you.

Neville's voice got quieter and quieter, his eyes turning red.

Charlie couldn't take it anymore and sat down beside Neville.

"Neville, don't mind what others say."

Charlie's voice was calm:

"If someone bullies you, hit back."

"I got bullied too, back in the day. But I knocked them all flat, and no one's messed with me since."

Neville's head shot 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 take down a troll."

"Strength isn't something you're born with. I only got where I am through hard work," Charlie said slowly.

"Later on, I figured something out."

"The more you fear trouble, the more it finds you. The tougher you are, the less people dare to cross you."

Harry nodded, feeling that deeply. Dudley always picked on him, and the more Harry gave in, the more Dudley pushed.

Neville was still down:

"But I really am thick. Like Malfoy said, I haven't even learned one spell."

"I've got no talent for magic."

Charlie patted him on the shoulder.

"Whether you're thick or not isn't for others to decide. There's always something you're good at—you just haven't found it yet."

"Think about which class you do best in."

Neville's eyes lit up.

"I'm all right in Herbology. Professor Sprout praised me."

"She said I have a gift for plants, that I can sense what they need."

"There you go."

"You're better at Herbology than most people. Isn't that talent?"

"Spells are just one part of magic, not the whole thing."

"Even if your spells aren't as good as his, you've still got your fists."

"Word is your house's founder, Gryffindor, had a sword. He didn't even like using spells—he just charged in with it."

"Courage matters more than magic."

That finally lifted Neville's spirits completely, his eyes shining.

"Yeah, I could learn swordsmanship, or just use my fists."

He clenched his fists, his whole demeanor shifting, as if some switch had been flipped.

Charlie watched Neville's excited expression and felt a twinge of unease.

Had he led the kid astray? Would Professor McGonagall come after him for this?

Just then, Harry sidled up nervously and lowered his voice.

"Charlie, I want to ask you something."

"Can you put a spell on my broom so Malfoy can't curse it?"

Charlie blinked.

"You really think Malfoy's got the chops to curse you?"

"All he can do is flap his mouth. If he could actually pull it off, he'd have done it by now."

But Harry was still worried, his voice urgent.

"What if Malfoy gets Snape to cast the curse?"

"His dad's a School Governor. Snape has to listen to him."

Charlie rolled his eyes internally.

Snape, with that contrarian personality of his, taking orders from anyone? Bull.

"You don't know Snape well enough yet."

"Besides, I'm in the same year as you. Do you really think I know a spell like that?"

Harry finally caught on and scratched his head awkwardly.

"Sorry, Charlie. It's just that you're easy to forget how old you are."

"Feels like you can do anything."

Charlie shook his head.

"If you're really that worried, go ask Professor McGonagall for help."

"Malfoy can go to his Head of House. So can you."

Harry's eyes lit up.

"Right, why didn't I think of that?"

With that, he thanked Charlie and dashed off excitedly.

Charlie grabbed a drumstick from the table and dug in.

Harry jogged all the way to Professor McGonagall's office, stood outside for a long moment, took a few deep breaths, and only then dared to knock.

He still held a certain awe for that stern professor.

"Come in."

Harry pushed the door open. Professor McGonagall was grading homework, not even looking up.

Harry suddenly regretted not bringing Charlie along.

"Mr. Potter, is there something you need?"

"Professor, I'd like to ask you a favor," Harry said quietly.

Professor McGonagall set down her quill and looked up at him.

"Go on."

"Professor, could you put a spell on my broom to keep someone from cursing it?"

Professor McGonagall frowned.

"Cursing? Mr. Potter, what are you worried about?"

"It's just... Malfoy said today he'd curse me to fall off during the Quidditch match," Harry stammered.

"Nonsense," Professor McGonagall said sternly.

"No one at this school would curse a student."

Harry saw her unmoved expression and grew anxious.

Then a flash of inspiration struck.

"Professor, actually, it was Charlie's idea!"

Professor McGonagall frowned. Harry might fool around, but Charlie wouldn't. Why would he bring this up?

"Mr. White said this?"

"Yes, yes!" Harry nodded eagerly.

"Charlie said that even though the professors here are all upright, you can't guarantee someone won't interfere with the match in secret."

"He suggested I come to you to put a protective charm on the broom."

Professor McGonagall fell into thought.

Charlie's words weren't without merit. She wouldn't interfere with the match herself, but certain professors who favored black robes might show bias toward their own house's students.

Although she didn't believe Professor Snape would go so far as to harm a student, in matters like a Quidditch match that involved House honor, who knew what tricks he might pull.

"Mr. White has thought this through thoroughly." Professor McGonagall nodded slowly.

"Indeed, we should take precautions before trouble arises."

She stood up and paced back and forth in her office.

"However, if I only cast a protective charm on your broom, it would seem unfair."

Professor McGonagall stopped and looked at Harry.

"I've decided to cast a rebound curse charm on all the contestants' brooms."

"That way, no one will be able to interfere with the match."

With his goal achieved, Harry left the office feeling pleased.

Professor McGonagall was quick to act.

The very next morning, she gathered the heads of the four Houses and the Quidditch captains to discuss casting the protective charm.

The heads and captains had no objections, and so all the contestants' brooms were enchanted with the protective charm.

The only awkward part was that Professor Snape felt quite uncomfortable while casting the spell, as Professor McGonagall kept giving him strange looks.