As the hours passed, my condition improved, though, to be honest, I couldn't bear the agony of recovering at a snail's pace. So at one point, I used every means of recovery I had. Several clones sleeping simultaneously, magical potions of all kinds, and an excessive intake of restorative and energy-boosting foods. The result? I didn't reach 100%, but I was hovering around 85%, maybe 90% if the wind was blowing in my favor.
It was in this semi-decent state that I became aware of what was happening around me... the stares and whispers surrounding me. The situation involving the "Chamber of Secrets" had half the world on edge. The hallways were full of murmurs, and Hogwarts: A Story seemed to be in every student's hands. It was obvious that the existence of that book in the library had been erased. Even the girls in my group weren't immune to the intrigue.
My group, though scattered across the castle's halls, seemed to have a mental synchronization worthy of a hive: each one came to ask me the exact same thing. Yes, I'm the most informed in our little secret society—at least when it comes to diverse knowledge. To avoid repeating myself several times, I decided we'd discuss everything in the Lair.
Once in our territory and with everyone's attention, I gave a basic summary of the facts. Of course, I kept several details to myself—not because I didn't trust them, but because I wasn't sure what my plans for this were yet and preferred to avoid future problems. I also took the opportunity to give them advice on precautions and suggested they intensify their training, using the excuse of being prepared for anything.
What I didn't know was that, while I tried to live my "normal life"—normal by my standards, of course—a rumor was starting to spread like wildfire among the castle's students. I didn't pay attention at first; I already had enough on my plate, like not having seen Ginny or Luna all day. Both had disappeared into the Room of Requirement and didn't even bother to come down for meals. At least I managed to calm myself a bit by communicating with them through [Message].
What I hadn't noticed in my exhausted state was that McGonagall and Sprout had the same dark circles under their eyes as Ginny and me during breakfast, which they forced themselves to attend with tired expressions, occasionally nodding off. Still, very professionally, although their responses were slow and brief, they maintained the dignity of a professor throughout the morning. I didn't notice afterward because it seemed they took the day off to rest a bit.
It was the next day when the stares became more obvious... and not just to me. It turned out that, although no one had the full story, certain "details" of what happened in the infirmary had begun spreading like wildfire, aggravated by what happened in the first year.
Professor McGonagall, for instance, was giving her class when she noticed several students looking at her and whispering among themselves. Her reaction was to dock points for these actions and then ignore them, as usual, but perhaps this time, she should have paid attention. Something similar happened to Professor Sprout.
As for me, I was used to being a topic of conversation, but nothing prepared me for what came next. It was during a break when the Patil twins and Lavender Brown approached me, hungry for gossip. Lavender, in particular, had an unhealthy excitement in her eyes, and they hit me with the following:
"Red, is it true that you have a secret relationship with Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout? And... that on Halloween night, you snuck into the infirmary together to...?" (Parvati)
The way she said it—with apparent shyness but eyes full of prurient curiosity—was enough to make my brain crash while trying to process such a question. To make things worse, Lavender seemed on the verge of some kind of climax, eagerly waiting for me to answer yes.
I completely froze as I tried to rationalize what they had just told me, all while watching Lavender look like she might explode if I said yes.
"What?" was all I could articulate.
Shortly after, I understood what was going on when the girls dragged me to the Lair. Upon arriving, I found several others waiting for me, with more trickling in. On the way, the stares continued to follow me: curious, prurient, some even evaluative, as if drawing absurd conclusions in real-time. To top it off, our hideout was more packed than ever, crowded with people whose curiosity about the rumors surrounding me had almost completely eclipsed the gossip about the Chamber of Secrets.
When my group gathered and began the interrogation, I was still in shock. I heard several versions of the rumors, each more absurd than the last, and I couldn't help but internally curse the students' overactive imaginations and how easily they deviated from the truth. Of course, I knew perfectly well how it had all started: the incident in the infirmary. The problem was that the incident wasn't handled with the same secrecy as Potter's messes. That bastard had someone covering his back, and on top of that, gossip like this was perfect for distracting everyone from any anomaly, like, I don't know, the fact that Myrtle assaulted him. Damn lucky Potter.
Anyway, now I had to deal with something even more ridiculous: the rumor that I, a simple student, was secretly involved with not one but two heads of houses and that we used the infirmary as the setting for our supposed depraved acts. Oh, and the best part? That I was a stud capable of ejaculating my own weight in sperm. To make matters worse, the scandal didn't stop with me. My brothers were also dragged into the chaos, as some people started asking them if this last claim was a "family trait" and if that was the reason my parents had so many children.
The pieces clicked into place all at once. Now I understood the stares that followed me down the halls. Surely more than one girl had been evaluating me curiously, wondering if it was worth checking out the rumors personally. But that wasn't my immediate problem; I had bigger things to worry about.
First, I had to clarify to the girls that the rumors were unfounded. Of course, I couldn't tell them the whole truth, but I did my best to debunk the nonsense going around. Not everyone seemed satisfied with my response though. *Cough* Lavender, *cough*.
Hermione, on the other hand, took it well. From the beginning, she never believed those ridiculous stories. She trusted me, but even more so, she trusted Professor McGonagall. From the start, she was on my side, outraged that anyone would even think to spread something like that. The idea that I would betray her with a professor made her blood boil.
...
I managed to calm things down with my group of friends, which was the important part… at least until a student showed up looking for me, announcing that Professor McGonagall had summoned me to her office. As if this wasn't bad enough, several people witnessed the message and practically ran off to spread the "news."
Frankly, I didn't want to go. What I really wanted was to bury this whole mess, forget it, and move on with my life. I had way too much to deal with to worry about stupid rumors. Although, to be honest, the issue wasn't the rumor itself. At another time, I might have even joked about it. The problem was that, in this case, I really was in trouble.
If this stayed confined to Hogwarts, fantastic. But no, I had to face something worse: convincing McGonagall not to inform my parents about what had happened. I had bought some time with excuses, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd have to face the consequences. My plan was to hope the matter would blow over until I could come up with an effective countermeasure… but the damned rumors only made things worse.
When I reached her office door, I knocked reluctantly. I was invited in and entered, finding the professor seated behind her desk with an expression that did not bode well.
"Professor…" I greeted weakly.
"Mr. Weasley," she replied, so curtly that I felt a chill run down my spine.
She, of course, had already heard the rumors. Worse, her attempts to deny them had only made them spread faster. The situation had escalated to the point where she had been summoned to the headmaster's office. She was furious, especially because she noticed a certain doubt in Dumbledore's gaze. Of course, what she didn't realize was that the headmaster wasn't judging her—he was judging me.
Despite her anger, she planned to take me to Dumbledore to "take measures." But first, she gave me the chance to apologize… or dig my own grave.
"Is this about the rumors?" I asked, trying to buy some time.
"No. We will discuss that later," she said seriously. "You requested time to… 'recover' and talk to me before I inform your parents."
"Ah… I knew this would come sooner or later." I sighed, resigned. "Can't you just ignore it? I had nothing to do with it! I've already suffered enough. Ask Madam Pomfrey; she knows it wasn't exactly pleasant." Well, not entirely unpleasant. Maybe 25-40%...
"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but I must inform your parents," she replied firmly.
"Are you mad about the rumors or that accidental facial?" I blurted out before instantly regretting it.
"This has nothing to do with that," she responded, visibly irritated. Though, to be honest, even she didn't seem to believe this wasn't a form of venting. She picked up a quill and began writing a letter. To my parents. About what had happened. Well, not everything that had happened, of course. She omitted the juicy details.
"Professor, wait!" I quickly said, watching the situation worsen before my eyes.
I already had enough problems, and if my relationship with my family became more complicated, I was doomed. Besides, Ginny was involved in this. Sure, I planned to get back at her—but in a brotherly, loving way… maybe a little less lovingly… but either way, I had to protect her.
With a quick flick of my wand, I locked the door. The metallic sound was so audible that the professor stopped mid-letter and looked at me with irritation and suspicion.
"Professor, it doesn't have to come to this. It's just a little problem," I said, trying to sound persuasive while my brain scrambled to form some brilliant plan.
"This is not a 'little problem,' Mr. Weasley," she retorted.
"Well, maybe we can reach some sort of… agreement." I smiled seductively, slowly sliding the neckline of my robe to reveal a shoulder.
"Mr. Weasley?!" she asked, somewhere between furious and bewildered.
"I'm sorry, Professor." I shifted tactics in an instant, beginning to tremble and sob like a scared child as my robe slid down even more. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell my parents. I'll be a good boy…"
"What?!" Her reaction was a mix of disbelief and confusion.
"It doesn't have to be like this. We can… resolve it another way. I promise it will be… unforgettable." I returned to the seductive tone, sitting on her desk and extending a hand toward her.
She quickly pulled back, horrified.
"Please, I won't tell anyone what we do. Just forgive me. I'm just a boy… Be gentle with me. I don't want my screams to alert the other students…"
"Are you trying to seduce me or threaten me?!" she exclaimed, completely baffled.
"Yes!" I replied.
"Mr. Weasley!" she yelled, visibly exasperated.
"Look, I don't have many options. I always have a plan, but with you, I don't know what to do. I respect you. I don't have any material to blackmail you. I'm trapped! You're one of my favorite professors, and honestly, I shouldn't even be involved in this. All of this is someone else's fault for accidentally brewing a potion, and I ended up being the idiot who took it." I said, crossing my arms with tears of frustration in my eyes.
---///---
patreon.com/Lunariuz