"You'd better put his things down." Malfoy mimicked him mockingly. "Potter, what do you take me for? Do you think I'm your little sidekick?"
"Chosen One, you can boss Gryffindor around."
"But I'm a Slytherin."
Harry said nothing. He only fixed Malfoy with a cool stare.
"Let's have a little contest, Potter." Malfoy held up his broomstick. "If—and I'm only saying if—you can beat me, I'll give you the thing."
"Do you even have the guts?"
"Hmm? The great Chosen One—"
Harry shook his head. "Don't make me say it a third time, Malfoy. Give it back."
"What, afraid?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, taking Harry's attitude for a surrender. He grew smug. "So the Chosen One gets scared sometimes, too?"
"Let me think. Where should I hide this thing?"
"Maybe find a tree, toss it into a bird's nest, then enjoy watching Longbottom bawl and cling to the trunk, crying those disgusting tears and snot—"
"Malfoy!" Harry's voice sharpened as he stepped forward.
Malfoy instinctively took half a step back. The incident on the train was still fresh in his mind.
But he glanced behind him. It wasn't just Goyle and Crabbe with him today; there were other Slytherins, too. Even if they fought, could Potter take on all of them?
Their numerical advantage emboldened him. He strutted forward, making up for the half step he'd retreated. "What, are you going to start something?"
"Is a Gryffindor's only weapon their savage, crude muscles?"
"We're wizards, Potter. Noble wizards."
Harry shook his head and sighed. "Malfoy, do you remember what you said on the train?"
Malfoy froze.
Harry continued, "You told me not to associate with someone as disreputable as Ron."
Ron froze, too. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, looking ready to fight Malfoy to the death at Harry's command.
The unexpected remark made the wind go out of his sails. He stared at Harry in surprise.
Wait...
What are you doing?
I'm on your team.
Who wounds their teammate before a fight even starts?
Malfoy sneered, about to join in with a few insults.
But Harry was quicker with his words. "So you, who aren't disreputable, amuse yourself by bullying others to make yourself seem superior and noble?"
"Then tell me, who's the disreputable one here?"
Malfoy's expression changed. He glared at Harry.
Harry took another step forward.
"I have no interest in getting involved in your childish, harmless little games." Harry waved a hand and continued, "They're immature, stupid, and boring. You only dare pick on the timid and the weak—and they're the only ones you can pick on."
In the Witcher world, he'd been young, only in his forties—still a child by the long, ancient standards of Witchers.
But he'd seen or heard about the court intrigues in a few human kingdoms.
He was qualified to say that Malfoy's little games wouldn't pass muster.
Each word cut like a knife, each sentence sliced deeper, making Malfoy's heart ache. His face grew more and more livid.
"But Gryffindor calls me the Lion King—even if they mostly mean it as a joke." Harry's voice grew gentler, but the catlike pupils in his eyes turned sterner. "You should know what the leader of a pride does when faced with something like this."
"Malfoy, you shouldn't have provoked me—and Gryffindor—again and again."
Malfoy opened his mouth.
He was a step too slow again.
"Axii!"
Harry raised his hand. A flash of white light sprang from his fingertips and struck Malfoy's head.
The platinum-haired boy's eyes went glassy at once. He stood there, dazed and vacant, lost in a foolish stupor.
"Throw it over here." Harry beckoned.
Malfoy obediently tossed the Remembrall. It landed gently in Harry's hand.
Pansy stared in horror, her voice shrill and piercing. "Potter, what did you do to Malfoy? How dare you use the Imperius Curse on him!"
"You actually used an Unforgivable Curse!"
Hermione cried out, too. "Harry, how could you cast a spell on a classmate?"
"You'll get points taken off for that."
The Little Lions, who had been ready to cheer, stared at Hermione in astonishment. How could someone so decent say something like that?
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't the Imperius Curse. It was just a little trick..."
Pansy had no intention of listening to his explanation. She kept shrieking as she drew her wand. "Quick, take Potter down and rescue Malfoy!"
A red bolt shot toward Harry. He didn't even bother to dodge—it was aimed well, but hit a broom on the ground instead.
Ron threw an arm into the air and called out. He'd been seething for a while now. "Get them! Teach these Slytherins a lesson!"
The young wizards pulled out their wands and fired spells at one another, though they'd barely learned any.
Hermione was the only one shouting, "Stop fighting!"
"Stop it!"
"This is against the rules!"
But it was no use. Nobody listened to her.
As the "culprit" who'd set things off, Harry drew the most fire—and dealt the most damage. Not a single Slytherin could stay on their feet after taking one of Harry's punches.
A moment later, the place was a mess.
Malfoy had just come to. He stared at the ground, where the little snakes lay sprawled about, groaning. "Potter, what did you do?"
Ron launched a sneak attack, kicking Malfoy hard in the backside. "You can lie down, too!"
Hermione frowned. "Harry, no—you can't do this. Professor McGonagall will be furious when she finds out."
Ron curled his lip. He had Malfoy pinned down as he shouted, "Hermione, this isn't the time to discuss whether we broke the rules."
"Exactly!" Seamus's face was flushed with excitement. "We're defending our House's honor!"
The other Little Lions sided with Ron, too. They were still riding the intense joy of winning their first-ever brawl.
The Slytherins had quieted down. They huddled in one corner of the grounds. Malfoy in particular covered his left eye, glaring at the Gryffindors with malice.
Professor Hooch returned soon after.
She quickly sensed that something was wrong. The two or three broken broomsticks on the ground said it all.
"Can anyone tell me what happened while I was gone?" Professor Hooch scanned them coldly.
Hermione hesitated.
Malfoy raised his hand like a turtle poking its head out of its shell. "Professor, after you left, Potter riled up the Gryffindors and they beat us up."
"And Potter used the Imperius Curse on me!"
Professor Hooch's expression changed at once.
The fight would have to wait.
The Imperius Curse...
That was serious.
"Mr. Potter?" Professor Hooch's expression was stern.
Harry was perfectly calm. "Mr. Malfoy is exaggerating. I did most of the fighting myself. The others barely got involved."
Aside from Harry's fists, the biggest hit probably came from Ron kicking Malfoy in the backside. Even a broom had done more damage than Ron—the bruise around Malfoy's eye had come from hitting a broom handle.
"No, no, that's not what I'm asking about." Professor Hooch shook her head. "The Imperius Curse. He says you used it on him."
"Professor, can a first-year tell the Confundus Charm apart from the Imperius Curse?" Harry countered.
Malfoy seized the chance to pile on. "But I didn't know what I was doing. I just obeyed you—"
Harry raised a hand. "Then, Mr. Malfoy, would you like me to do it again so Professor Hooch can see for herself?"
Malfoy went pale and shuddered.
Professor Hooch's expression softened a little. She was more inclined to believe Harry.
As one of the Unforgivable Curses, the Imperius Curse was not something first-year students could easily get access to.
Let alone successfully cast.
Most importantly...
Harry was the Chosen One. That halo naturally set him apart from Dark Magic.
"Enough, Mr. Potter. I believe you, but this is serious. You got into a fight while your professor was away. I have no choice but to... take twenty points from Gryffindor!" Professor Hooch pressed Harry's hand down, her tone stern.
Hermione's heart sank. Her face twisted with distress. Twenty points—it would take her and Harry a week or even longer of hard work in class to earn that many, and that didn't even count Snape's nitpicking.
"Professor, perhaps you should hear my side of the story?" Harry asked, his expression unchanged.
Professor Hooch nodded.
"This started when Mr. Malfoy picked up something Neville dropped and refused to give it back." Harry spread his hands. "I'm not trying to excuse myself, but we weren't the only ones at fault."
"Is that so?" Professor Hooch looked at Malfoy.
Malfoy tried to defend himself. "No, I was only joking. Who knew Potter couldn't take a joke? He cast a spell on me after only a couple of words."
"If other people can't take a joke, then it isn't a joke, Mr. Malfoy." Harry cut him off, his voice low and cool.
Professor Hooch waved a hand. "In that case... ten points from Slytherin."
"That's your punishment, Mr. Malfoy."
Malfoy clenched his fists.
"No more trouble! Behave yourselves." Professor Hooch narrowed her eyes and scolded the remaining young wizards. "Now, I'm taking Mr. Potter to see Professor McGonagall."
"No!" Hermione went deathly pale. "Professor, Harry knows he was wrong."
"Yes, you've already taken points off us." Ron's expression changed, too.
Professor Hooch shook her head. "This is about the spell. Your Head of House needs to know. I'm willing to believe Mr. Potter, but the Unforgivable Curses are never a trivial matter."
Harry nodded at them and smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."
Professor Hooch sighed and shook her head as she led Harry to Professor McGonagall's office. She might be the least busy professor at Hogwarts, with fewer than ten lessons a year.
But she was undoubtedly one of the professors with the most to worry about.
Anything could happen during Flying Class. Now there'd even been a brawl. If a group of Dementors suddenly showed up in the middle of a lesson one day, she wouldn't be surprised anymore.
In the office.
After listening to Professor Hooch's account, Professor McGonagall's face turned stern. "Mr. Potter, I always thought you'd be the student who gave me the least trouble!"
"And yet you've gone and done something like this!"
Her heart ached. She should have known better. How could anyone from the Potter family possibly behave themselves?
"Twenty points from Gryffindor!"
Professor Hooch reminded her, "Minerva, I've already taken them off."
"Then take another twenty." Professor McGonagall drew a deep breath. "It's only been a short while since term started, and you've already led Gryffindor into a brawl with Slytherin."
"No young wizard has ever done anything like this!"
Harry made no attempt to defend himself.
"Never mind. Let's talk about that spell first." Professor McGonagall paused, then softened her tone. "Take out your wand, Mr. Potter."
Harry obediently took his wand out of the Sorting Hat.
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