Harry Won't Betray His Friends

Noon, the dining hall.

"Whoa, you didn't see it. Malfoy was hanging there in midair, and Harry made one sharp charge and sent him flying!"

Ron held a big chicken drumstick in one hand, gesturing grandly as if he were commanding the world.

He embellished the tale of Harry's "glorious" deed with plenty of extra flavor.

A crowd of students had gathered around the long table, most of them Gryffindors.

There was no helping it. They just loved hearing stories about Slytherin getting humbled.

As Ron told his tale, the Lions laughed one moment and cheered the next.

Yet as the hero of the story, Harry looked miserable.

The moment he saw Malfoy get hurt in the fall, he knew he had caused trouble. He was definitely going to get scolded by the teachers.

But from the morning's classes until now, no teacher had come looking for him.

This waiting before the axe fell was the most agonizing part.

Feeling guilty, Harry lifted his head a little and looked at Lucien across the table, only to find Lucien was looking at him too. He immediately lowered his head again.

After listening to Ron's wild bragging, Lucien had more or less sorted out what had happened.

It was basically no different from the original plot: a clash over the Remembrall, then a contest on broomsticks.

But how had Malfoy fallen?

Had Harry really rammed him out of the air?

Ron even said Malfoy had broken both legs, both arms, and practically every bone in his body.

Lucien did not believe it had been exaggerated to that degree, but the injuries definitely could not have been light. After all, he had fallen straight down from high up.

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall had arrived at the scene in time, stabilized Malfoy's injuries, and immediately sent him to the infirmary.

Also, why did Harry look so guilty? What bad thing had he done now?

"Harry, come with me. The headmaster wants to see you."

A stern voice rang out, instantly silencing the young wizards' discussion.

Professor McGonagall, wearing square glasses, appeared beside the long table and called Harry away.

Lucien figured this was no small matter if it required a talk with the headmaster.

Harry followed Professor McGonagall, trembling with anxiety, into the Headmaster's Office.

He had no attention to spare for the office's furnishings, but he did notice a glass case standing in the center of the room.

There was no helping it. It was big, bright, and far too eye-catching.

Only one thing sat inside the case: a gray-white hat, covered in patches.

"Hi there, boy called Harry Potter. Do I look good like this?"

Harry actually heard the hat speak.

"Hey, why aren't you saying anything? You wore me at the opening ceremony, didn't you? Forgotten me already?"

Harry's eyes widened.

"You're the Sorting Hat? Weren't you gray-brown back then?!"

"That's right. I was originally gray-white. I just hadn't been cleaned in too long."

Suddenly, a cold voice interrupted Harry's conversation with the Sorting Hat.

"Potter, come here and explain how you injured Draco Malfoy."

Harry looked toward the voice, and his whole body shuddered.

Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore were sitting by the desk, the former examining him with an icy gaze.

"Heh, don't be afraid. Sit down first, and just tell us whatever happened."

Dumbledore spoke with a genial smile, signaling Snape not to frighten the student.

Harry swallowed and sat down.

Clack—

Professor McGonagall placed a small iron can on the desk with a crisp sound.

At the sight of the can, Harry's pupils shrank.

That was the can that held the Sleeping Incense. He had gone back to look for it afterward, but had not found it on the grounds.

"Harry, is this potion yours?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry with a solemn expression.

She had picked it up beside Malfoy. Although she was the head of Gryffindor, she would not shield students from her own house.

Especially when a student might have misused a potion and caused someone else to be hurt, Professor McGonagall had to handle the matter fairly.

Harry's face was pale, and he nodded blankly.

"Severus, would you identify what potion this is?"

Snape picked up the iron can rather slowly.

The moment he caught the faint orchid scent wafting from the can, it had felt familiar. Wrong.

After carefully examining the remaining potion, Snape's expression instantly turned ugly.

This was Sleeping Incense. An improved Sleeping Incense!

The improved Sleeping Incense formula Lucien had traded to him.

At present, in the school, only Lucien and he should have been able to brew this potion.

How had Lucien gotten dragged into this?

"Sleeping Incense. It induces sleep. Effective on wizards and, hm, on magical creatures as well."

Snape briefly introduced the potion, but did not mention the improved version.

"Potter, what was this potion used for?"

Harry did not answer immediately.

His hands trembled on his knees as he kept thinking about it.

I brewed the Sleeping Incense myself. I was the one who lit it and threw it. I was the one who made Malfoy fall and get hurt...

I can't mention Lucien. This can't involve him. It has nothing to do with him...

Harry thought of Lucien's words, of his guidance, of his respect, of his trust...

Harry suddenly stiffened his neck and said loudly:

"I brewed this potion myself! And I used it on Malfoy myself!"

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were all startled by Harry's sudden shout.

Snape looked at Harry's emerald-green almond eyes, somewhat blurred behind his glasses but still visibly stubborn.

Then he looked at that infuriatingly obstinate face.

Snape's forehead practically filled with black lines.

"I asked you what you used the potion for, not whether you brewed it yourself!"

What Snape had meant was for Harry to admit that the potion was meant for use on magical creatures, not that he had deliberately used it to tease and hurt a classmate.

Harry also calmed down a little.

"I... After I came to Hogwarts, I haven't been sleeping well. I used it to help me sleep."

The excuse was flimsy, but it was still better than saying he had used it to prank a classmate.

Besides, Harry really had not intended to hurt Malfoy at the time. He had simply thought of what he believed was the most effective method, and acted faster than he thought, without considering such serious consequences.

As a pure little Lion, this was helpless, but also very reasonable.

Snape shook his head.

"Harry Potter misused a potion and caused a classmate to be injured in an accident. His punishment will be copying the school rules ten times, doing one hour of volunteer work in the Hospital Wing every day for one week, and Gryffindor will lose fifty points."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, do you find that acceptable?"

Hearing this decision, Dumbledore and McGonagall were both somewhat surprised.

The punishment did not look light, but Snape had defined the matter as an "accident," which was, in effect, protecting Harry.

McGonagall did not understand how Snape could let Harry off so "lightly."

After all, Lucius Malfoy, as a school governor, would certainly come to him, the Head of Slytherin, to demand an explanation for his son's sake.

Dumbledore knew a little of the hidden circumstances, but even he felt Snape had actually handled this rather leniently.

Dumbledore said solemnly and earnestly:

"I find it acceptable. But there is one more thing. Harry, you must apologize to the injured student. A sincere apology."

"I know the cause of your conflict, but you also made a mistake, and that Malfoy boy has paid the price as well."

"You are classmates, not enemies. You should not hate each other."

Harry nodded heavily.

"I know I was wrong. I'm willing to accept the punishment."

After they talked a while longer, Harry left the Headmaster's Office.

The moment he walked out the door, he puffed out his chest again.

Harry Potter would not betray a friend. Harry Potter had not betrayed a friend.