Before long, all eight lackeys lay on the floor.
The entire Slytherin Common Room had been blasted beyond recognition. The sofas had been reduced to springs and wood chips, and the chandelier had fallen from the ceiling and shattered.
Even the enchanted glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows was covered in cracks. If it broke, the waters of the Black Lake would probably flood the entire Slytherin dormitory before long.
Gerald had cornered Avery Selwyn against a wall. His wand had flown who knew where, and the shock waves from the Explosive Talismans had torn several holes in his school robes.
"Y-you, what are you going to do?" Avery Selwyn's voice finally changed.
He leaned against the stone wall, both hands held in front of his chest, his earlier condescending composure gone.
His hair had fallen loose over his forehead, and the anger on his face had turned to terror.
"What am I going to do? Make you kneel and repent, of course."
"Me, repent? You were the one who killed my uncle!" Avery Selwyn sounded somewhat hysterical.
"But your uncle wanted to kill every student in Gryffindor. He fired Killing Curses at over a hundred lower-year students in our Gryffindor Common Room. If I hadn't stopped him, it would be students from our house lying in the morgue now," Gerald said evenly.
"You... you all deserved to die! You Mudbloods and blood traitors! You defile this castle!"
Almost mad, Avery Selwyn drew another, spare wand from his cuff and unleashed Fiendfyre.
"Are you actually trying to kill me? This is Hogwarts! Besides, can you even kill me?"
Flames surged from his wand tip, forming a blazing bird that lunged at Gerald.
Fiendfyre was one of the most dangerous flames in Dark Magic. It could devour everything, even burn away souls.