In the end, Annie had no choice but to bow her head and apologize.
Otherwise, she'd face the full "educational wrath" of the Stark household—measures that included but were not limited to cutting off her allowance, banning snacks, and canceling all trips to amusement parks.
Satisfied, Hermione raised her chin proudly, her pale neck extended like a swan.
She clapped her hands, keeping a stern expression, though the corner of her mouth quirked up as she announced that she was going to read.
William's room was filled with books, like a miniature library, and last time the Grangers had stayed over, Hermione had spent the night in William's room.
As she walked toward the door, she suddenly sniffed the air, turning to them with a frown. "What's that smell?"
A faint, strange odor had spread through the house, vaguely reminding William of Wood's sweaty shoes.
William's expression changed. He suddenly remembered the cauldron in the basement. He'd left the fire on when he rushed out…and forgot to turn it off.
And it wasn't just any potion simmering away—it was one he'd been working on for nearly a month! The ingredients alone were valuable and hard to come by now that he wasn't in the time loop and couldn't raid Snape's supply closet.
Every herb and extract had come out of his own savings, and wasting any was painful.
William dashed down the stairs, with the two girls following close behind. Annie clapped excitedly, grabbing Hermione's arm as they went, excitedly calling it an "adventure."
Once in the basement, William saw that the potion had overheated and was emitting a dangerous level of heat, the cauldron glowing as if on the verge of melting.
"French craftsmanship is the worst," William grumbled.
Apparently, nothing except their silk fabrics passed muster.
Quickly drawing his wand, William glanced at the cauldron, then, sensing imminent danger, grabbed the two girls and pulled them back.
A loud boom erupted.
Half the house heard the explosion as it split the air, sending thick plumes of blue smoke curling from the basement.
Though a bit worse for wear, the three of them emerged safely from the basement. William had taken the brunt of it, quickly using 'protego' to shield the two girls from the blast.
The smoke cleared, and William moved forward to inspect the damage.
Kneeling down, he examined the splintered cauldron, dipped his fingers into a puddle of greenish liquid, and sniffed it with a regretful sigh. "What a waste…"
Hermione, whose face was now covered in dust, looked torn between shock from the explosion and awe at the magic William had just used.
But when she saw him lamenting over the shattered cauldron, she burst into laughter.
Between laughs, she crouched beside him, asking, "Hey, you…uh, what's this stuff?"
Annie, wiping a smudge from her face, teased, "That's a potion, wizards use it to deal with girls like you!"
Hermione scoffed, not entertaining Annie with a response.
William gave Annie a light smack on the head, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe away her "mustache" smudge and then gently dusting Hermione's nose; Hermione, didn't-manage to dodge his handkerchief.
"Come on," he said, straightening up, "we'd better think of a good explanation for all this."
At that moment, the adults appeared, rushing over with concern written on their faces.
Both Roy and Leanna knew William had been working on potions in the basement since the start of summer and had been fine until now—but they hadn't expected this kind of accident.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger, meanwhile, were baffled. Weren't the kids supposed to be upstairs reading? How had they ended up looking like they'd just returned from mining in a coal field?
William glanced up in surprise as a tawny owl swooped through the open window and dropped a letter in front of Roy.
Everyone gathered around as he picked it up.
….
Dear Mr. Stark,
We have received reports of a 'Protego' spell cast at your residence at 7:15 p.m. this evening. As you are aware, underage wizards are not permitted to use magic outside of school premises. Continued infractions may result in expulsion (Per the Restriction of Underage Sorcery Act, 1875, Clause 3).
Furthermore, please note that under Section 13 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, any magic likely to attract the attention of non-magical persons (Muggles) is strictly prohibited.
Enjoy your summer!
Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office, Ministry of Magic
….
Leanna took the letter, waved it in the air, and looked at William with a raised brow.
"Well, William, you've been officially warned by the Ministry of Magic. As I've said before, no brewing potions at home next time!"
Though she addressed William, her gaze slid pointedly toward Roy, as if to say, "And you stop supporting him."
Roy cleared his throat and quickly backtracked. "She's right! I told you several times already, apart from school assignments, no more potion brewing is allowed in the house."
William gave him a flat look. And who was it who asked him for "a little more of that marvelous sobering draught" all the time?
After a quick cleanup in the basement, everyone gathered in the living room. The Grangers still looked utterly bewildered.
Apparently…Roy's son…was making explosives?
Hermione corrected her mother in a small voice, "It wasn't a bomb, Mom, it was a nuclear fusion reactor!"
The little girl's inner scientist flared to life as she launched into a detailed explanation of nuclear fusion straight out of Encyclopaedia Britannica, insisting that William was actually working on nuclear fission.
William stared at her, dumbfounded. How did she even come up with that? Did she think he was Taylor Wilson or something?
Meanwhile, Roy and Leanna exchanged a glance, unsure how much they could safely explain.
After all, no one had explicitly told them not to discuss William's schooling at Hogwarts, but the wizarding world was undoubtedly a secretive one.
Perhaps Hagrid had just forgotten to remind them?
Roy thought for a moment before finally deciding to tell his good friends the truth; he trusted they wouldn't spread it around.
When he finished, Ellis shook his head, looking exasperated. "Roy, I hate to say it, but this 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' sounds like a complete scam.
"And what kind of name is 'Albus Dumbledore'? Honestly, if I were you, I'd never send Hermione to some so-called 'magic school.' She's destined for Oxford or Cambridge…or maybe even Brown."
Ellis's wife, Emily, had graduated from Brown herself.
But before he could say more, another owl swooped through the window.
This time, it was Millie!
The owl circled twice, dropping a second letter before leaving to find Drogon.
William picked up the envelope, noting the wax seal—a shield emblazoned with a large "H" surrounded by a lion, eagle, badger, and snake.
The address on the front read:
….
Miss Hermione Granger,
Living Room,
7 West Charing Cross, London, W1
….
"Wow! It's a Hogwarts acceptance letter!" Leanna exclaimed, watching Hermione's face with an astonished expression.
Hermione blinked, hesitated for a long moment, then threw herself into her father's arms, her voice brimming with excitement. "Daddy, forget Oxford and Cambridge! I want to go to Hogwarts!"
Ellis was utterly speechless.
Ah, yes—sometimes, face-slapping is best delivered timely and cleanly.
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