"Well, I think I should leave. I still need to convince Sprout not to tell my parents. Thanks for not doing so, by the way."
"Who said I wouldn't?! Now, in fact, I have more reasons to do it!" Her voice dripped with deep, intense resentment, though less than before. I had managed to calm her a bit and minimize the damage, but the discomfort was still palpable.
"The photos of what we did?" I asked, pulling a handful of animated photographs from my pocket thanks to the revealing potion. I showed one with some drama.
"The photos of what we did?" I said, handing over a few photos that had been treated with the revealing potion, making them move. An invisible clone, equipped with a camera, had photographed everything that happened, from beginning to end.
Her face shifted from disbelief to horror in seconds. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Those images weren't just a memory; they were a reminder of what had happened and, worse still, how premeditated my plan could seem.
With renewed fury, she tore up all the photos in her hand. She grabbed her wand from the table, flicked it with a sharp movement, and the pieces began to burn until they turned to ashes.
"If you want more copies, you'll have to request them in advance..." I said, watching the burning pieces and then observing how her surprise turned into a furious eye twitch.
"HOW...?!" she shouted, her voice trembling with anger, unable to finish her sentence, which was a question about both my actions and the situation in general.
"I told you: I can't lose my family now. These photos are my insurance. You can punish me however you want, but my family must not know anything. Think about it. You warn them today, and tomorrow these photos are on the front page of every magical newspaper in the world." My tone was calm but firm enough to make her understand this wasn't a simple warning.
"OUT!" She pointed her wand at me, rage pouring from her face, holding back from committing murder.
I turned slowly, trusting she wouldn't throw a spell at my back, and walked toward the door. I heard her slump into her chair with a heavy sigh. Just as my hand reached the handle, her voice spoke again, this time full of exhaustion and threat.
"The rumors must end by tomorrow, or you'll have to publish those photos," she said. Her voice sounded tired, defeated, but at the same time, as threatening as mine—if not more.
"I will," I nodded, not turning around. "And don't worry, nothing happened that really hurt us. You're a great teacher, and it was an honor for me. Don't punish yourself too much... I'll give you the photos when I graduate."
I didn't finish the sentence before a book flew in my direction. I managed to dodge it and quickly left the room, closing the door behind me.
...
I went directly to see Professor Sprout, where nothing too complicated happened. Fortunately, her character was much more compassionate and understanding. After explaining that Minerva had already agreed not to say anything, she didn't have much problem agreeing to the same.
That said, the conversation wasn't exactly short. I had to listen to a sermon that felt more maternal than professorial, full of advice about sex, substance abuse, and other topics. But I did my best to reassure her, assuring her that everything was under control and that what had happened was an accident. In the end, I managed to get her to agree not to mention the matter again, not even to Professor McGonagall, which was something we all decided on.
...
That evening, the Great Hall was crowded, as always at dinnertime. My eyes landed on the professors' table, where Professor McGonagall was stirring her food with a lost expression. She looked like a walking corpse, completely silent, which clearly worried both her colleagues and the Headmaster.
I felt a little guilty about all of this. Maybe I should compensate her in the future, I thought. But that would be for another day. Now, there were other matters to attend to.
I stood up from my seat and climbed onto the table, drawing everyone's attention with a couple of loud coughs amplified by a Sonorus charm.
*Cough! Cough!*
The chatter stopped instantly, and everyone turned toward me with curious looks.
"Hello, hello, can you hear me?" I said, making sure the spell worked and that everyone in the hall was paying attention. The confused faces welcomed me, so I continued: "Hello everyone, I'm Red Weasley, in case there's any clueless person who still doesn't know me... although I doubt it, of course." I said, feeling a bit like Lockhart.
Murmurs began to spread among the students, as whispers crossed the tables like gusts of wind.
"I suppose you've all heard the rumors... about me and certain professors in the infirmary." My nonchalant tone made the gossip intensify, and I noticed how McGonagall and Sprout tensed in their seats. McGonagall, in particular, looked like she was about to explode in fury or tears. "And I must say... it's true."
The silence was so absolute that you could have heard a pin drop. I think I even heard McGonagall break her fork in half with her hand. I didn't want to let too much time pass; I didn't want her to start crying right there.
"And not just with them," I continued, pretending to be conspiratorial. "Also with the other professors. Aurora Sinistra? Sure. Flitwick? Of course. Hooch? Obviously. Snape? Well, how do you think I keep my good grades? I even slept with the Headmaster to get him to let me organize the Halloween party!" I paused theatrically, pointing a finger accusingly. "Everyone laughs, but they sure enjoy the sacrifice of my body!"
The entire dining hall exploded into a frenzy of exclamations and murmurs. The students' expressions ranged from disbelief to contained laughter, while the professors stared at me with a mix of horror and stupefaction.
"Oh, come on! Do you really believe that?" I exclaimed with feigned contempt, looking at everyone with disdain. "Did you think I was serious? What's wrong with you? Are you blind or just stupid? Did you really believe me when I said I had sex with Snape? No one's that sick."
That comment sparked laughter from the student tables, though not so much from Snape, whose murderous gaze could be felt from across the room.
"It's all nonsense," I continued, raising my arms dramatically. "And anyone who says otherwise can kiss my ass... well, like I said earlier, only girls." I paused to emphasize the mockery. "No, I'm not sleeping with any professors. So stop saying stupid things. I have a beautiful girlfriend, and I wouldn't cheat on her for better grades... at least not without getting good grades for her too."
The laughter around the tables grew louder, while Hermione, sitting at her seat, was as red as a tomato. It was clear she was holding herself back with all her might from throwing something at my head and forcing me to sit down.
"But what about what happened in the infirmary...?" asked a voice, barely audible in the general murmur.
I kept my attention sharp, easily identifying the source. There she was, the girl who had probably started all this mess.
"Ah, you're the one who was on the bed next to mine, right?" I said, pointing a finger at her. The girl flinched when she realized I had noticed her, especially when all the eyes in the room turned toward her. She nodded timidly. "The one who seemed to be delirious while awake?"
"What?! I didn't...!" she quickly responded, raising her hands in defense.
"It's okay, calm down, it's not an insult or anything," I tried to reassure her with a conciliatory gesture. "But I think I know why you think you saw what you saw."
I looked around the hall, using the drama to draw everyone's attention.
"I get it, my party was legendary. Too legendary, I'd say. So much so that it sent several people to the infirmary." Nervous laughter began to ripple through the tables. "It's not surprising that someone slipped alcohol in without us noticing, and it wouldn't be the first time someone mixed up cups and ended up... well, a little affected. Enough to end up in the infirmary."
"But I went because I hurt my knee..." said the girl, trying to justify herself, though clearly intimidated by the gazes.
"Sure, sure. But there, in your state... what exactly did you see?" I continued with a mocking smile. "Because, according to the rumors, it seems I'm an empty shell filled with... well, you know. And apparently, I do threesomes in the infirmary. Do you really think that's what happened?"
The girl seemed to begin doubting her own words.
"Don't worry, I'm not judging you. It's normal to daydream and confuse reality. Don't say I've never tried to eat my pillow or gotten mad at someone over a dream." My self-deprecating and mocking tone brought more laughter from the students.
"I didn't... I...," stammered the girl, clearly confused.
"Alright," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "So that nobody feels frustrated, attacked, or without answers, let me tell you the truth. What happened that night... yes, I went to the infirmary with our dear professors, but not for what you think."
I paused dramatically, watching as everyone leaned forward, expectantly.
"You see, I was cleaning up the aftermath of the party. Among the things I picked up, there were some products that weren't used... and well, I'm not going to go into detail, but something exploded. I ended up in the horrible situation of having a needle go through my... penis."
A deathly silence filled the hall. Most of the boys squirmed in their seats, crossing their legs with expressions of pure horror.
"Yes, a tragic accident," I continued solemnly. "And the professors, seeing me walk like a penguin to avoid making things worse, accompanied me to the infirmary in an act of absolute kindness."
Murmurs began to rise again, with glances exchanged between students and professors. McGonagall and Sprout knew perfectly well I was lying, but neither said anything. McGonagall seemed less hurt, perhaps even grateful for my effort, and Sprout seemed genuinely moved by my sacrifice.
"If anyone's wondering, yes, I'm fine now," I raised my voice with pride. "Madam Pomfrey is a real artist when it comes to genital reconstruction. In fact, it looks much bigger and more beautiful now."
An awkward laugh ran through the tables, while I looked at the other boys with a haughty expression.
"So now you know, stop making up weird rumors about our dear professors. Merlin, they're the best people. We're lucky to have them as teachers. And if something like that were ever going to happen, at least wait until we graduate! If Hermione breaks my heart by then... well, maybe I could console myself in the arms of one of them."
The laughter erupted, though Hermione, as red as a tomato, shot daggers at me with her gaze. I had no choice but to sit down to avoid her throwing something at my head.
The dining hall returned to its lively atmosphere, and after my speech, no one seemed to take the rumor seriously, not even those who wanted to believe it. My mission was complete.
However, things didn't calm down completely. Over the next week, Professor McGonagall didn't attend her classes and remained locked in her office. Her colleagues were worried, but no one could get any information from her about what had happened. Those who managed to speak to her noticed that she wasn't doing well.
In secret, I made sure she lacked nothing. I sent her breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with notes of encouragement included. I didn't dare confront her directly, but I hoped these small gestures would help her recover.
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