Chereads / A Certain Magical Hogwarts / Chapter 137 - Chapter 137: Heartache, Guilt, and Self-Blame

Chapter 137 - Chapter 137: Heartache, Guilt, and Self-Blame

On Saturday morning, William and his friends arrived at the Great Hall bright and early.

This weekend marked the Quidditch tryouts for all four houses, and excitement buzzed in the air.

Veteran players like the Weasley twins and Cedric, who had already proven themselves on the field, had little to worry about. Their tryouts were mere formalities.

However, their attitudes towards the season couldn't have been more different.

Hufflepuff remained a strong contender. Despite losing some players to graduation, their key members were still around, making them one of the favourites to win the cup.

Gryffindor, on the other hand, was in shambles. 

Their captain and Seeker, Charlie Weasley, had graduated, leaving a glaring hole in the team's lineup. 

Now, Gryffindor was scrambling to find a worthy replacement—preferably someone talented enough to salvage their deteriorating prospects.

The chances of discovering such a player among the third-years were slim, and the second-years weren't particularly promising either.

An outstanding Seeker from the first-years? That sounded almost laughable.

As they sat at the table for breakfast, the group discussed Gryffindor's predicament.

Their new captain, Oliver Wood, was beside himself with worry. He'd been harassing the team's veterans, urging them to unearth hidden talent.

Professor McGonagall wasn't making things easier. She'd repeatedly stressed that Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup in five years; a failure she considered unimaginable during her time.

Her tone was so grave it seemed like winning the cup was as vital as thwarting a Death Eater invasion.

McGonagall, known for her passion for the game, had been Gryffindor's team captain during her school years.

William couldn't help but smirk at her fervor. If Gryffindor's five-year drought was catastrophic, what did that make Ravenclaw's eight-year losing streak?

Ravenclaw's performance was so dismal that it was practically in a league of its own.

To avoid Wood's incessant badgering—and his infamous stinky socks—the twins had joined the Ravenclaw table for breakfast.

William, Cedric, and their friends didn't stick to any one house table; they often ate at Hufflepuff's or wherever there was more space.

William had even sat at the Slytherin table on occasion.

After all, no one dared call him a Mudblood or show overt hostility when he was seated nearby, smiling faintly and holding his wand.

Although William was Muggle-born, his strength, reputation as the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin, and undeniable brilliance commanded respect.

By 1991, the Voldemort era had been over for eleven years, and the fanatical belief in blood purity was no longer mainstream—at least not openly.

Even many Slytherins were half-bloods themselves.

While the group discussed Quidditch, the arrival of the mail disrupted their conversation.

Dozens of owls swooped in, circling the hall as they delivered letters and packages to the students.

One particularly decrepit owl flapped awkwardly around the Gryffindor table before crash-landing into a milk jug on the Ravenclaw table, spraying milk and feathers everywhere.

"Errol!" Fred called out, frowning. "Why's he here?"

George pulled the soaking owl out of the jug, revealing a soggy red envelope clamped in its beak.

"Oh no—" Fred groaned in horror.

"It's alive!" Hermione reassured him, gently poking Errol with her finger.

Boba Tea, lying lazily on the table, sniffed at the drenched owl.

Errol twitched weakly at the cat's inquisitive gaze.

"A Howler!" Cedric grinned, pointing to the red envelope.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"It's a letter, Our mom sent us one," Fred explained grimly.

"You'd better open it quickly," Cedric said with barely concealed amusement. "If you don't, it'll explode—and the shouting will be even louder."

But neither Fred nor George dared touch it. The corners of the envelope were already smoking ominously.

"Can't we block the sound with a Muffliato Charm?" George asked William hastily.

"No way," William replied, shaking his head. "A Howler's volume is far too loud for that charm to work."

"What about a Freezing Charm?"

"Maybe… but if it fails, the effect will be the same as not opening it at all—it'll get even louder. Are you sure you want to risk that?"

"Confundus Charm?"

The group debated solutions as though conducting an academic discussion, all while ignoring the smoldering envelope.

But the flames licking at its edges grew brighter, and the explosion seemed imminent.

"I could use a Confundus Charm to make it think it's already been opened," William said, pulling out his wand.

Two seconds later, he pocketed his wand and calmly resumed sipping his milk.

"Did it work?"

"Nope," William replied nonchalantly.

"Then why are you so calm?" Cedric asked, incredulous.

"Because Mrs. Weasley was prepared for this," William explained, shrugging.

"She placed several charms on the envelope to counter any tampering. So…"

BOOM!

William didn't need to finish his sentence. The Howler erupted in a deafening explosion, rattling the Great Hall and sending a cloud of dust cascading from the ceiling.

"I'm absolutely heartbroken, ashamed and disappointed!" Mrs. Weasley's voice thundered, amplified to an unbearable volume.

"I've done my best to raise you, and THIS is how you repay me? Ignoring my letters?!"

The Howler's voice was so loud it shook the plates and cutlery on the tables, and the echoes reverberated off the stone walls.

"I asked for those maps to keep an eye on you and you dare disregard me?! If this keeps up and you get expelled, don't expect me to clean up your mess!

"NOW! IMMEDIATELY!! THIS VERY SECOND!!!

"Send me those Hogwarts maps—or else, you'll be getting a Howler EVERY. SINGLE. DAY!"

The entire hall turned to stare at the Weasley twins, who sat frozen in mortified silence.

"And you, Ron!" the Howler bellowed.

"You're constantly late and dragging Harry down with you! How dare you ask me for money to buy 'study materials'?

"If I find out you've been spending it on snacks instead of studying, you'll be getting daily Howlers to wake you up!"

Fortunately for Ron, he wasn't in the hall at the time; he was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the chaos.

When the yelling finally subsided, the Great Hall erupted into laughter, and conversations slowly resumed.

The twins sat motionless, as though caught in the aftermath of a storm.

To comply, or not to comply—that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler to endure the slings and arrows of outrageous Howlers,

Or to give up their nocturnal escapades and succumb to mundane school life.

The Weasley twins: "We refuse to live like this anymore!"

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