Everyone except Flint—the other hulking Slytherins—had been taken down without putting up a proper fight.
Malfoy, who had been frozen in place, snatched a Beater's wand from the person beside him and cast "Tarantallegra."
Unfortunately, the spell was even weaker than Flint's Dark Magic, so Harley blocked it with ease.
"You're so weak!" Harley's red lips moved as her voice slipped past every Gryffindor's ears and entered the Slytherins' minds.
She still wanted to maintain a good image in front of her fellow Gryffindors.
Besides, even if the Slytherins repeated what she'd said, the other houses would only think they were slandering her.
Harley had always been the perfect student. Even when she defeated a Troll, she'd done it to save her classmates. Teachers and students alike had nothing but praise for her.
Would anyone believe the Slytherins?
"You're as weak as ants—lowly and helpless. I could crush you with the slightest effort." Harley's voice was like a snake slowly licking someone's eardrum.
"Honestly, I can't even work up the interest to crush you. And you call yourselves Pure-blood nobles?"
As she spoke, Harley gently curled her five slender fingers, tugging at the threads. Every Slytherin except Malfoy instantly fell to the ground.
The threads tightened, binding them into a bundle.
The frost around Malfoy vanished, replaced by tightly wound Spider Silk. After all, everyone from the same house ought to be bundled together.
"Nine against one, and done! It was that easy!" This time, Harley didn't keep her voice to herself. She turned playfully to the Gryffindors and said it aloud.
Everyone, Hermione included, swallowed as they looked at the Slytherins sprawled across the grass.
"What happened here!" Professor McGonagall was furious in the professors' common room.
She slammed her hand on the table so hard it shook.