After the back-to-school feast, Hermione finally felt relieved. She had been on edge the entire evening, worried that Harry and Ron might be expelled for their reckless antics with the flying car. But to her relief, the worst punishment they faced was a stern reprimand.
That night, as the Great Hall emptied and students headed to their respective dormitories, Hermione couldn't help but lecture Harry and Ron. "You two could have been killed! Or worse—expelled!" she scolded, echoing her favorite line. Despite her reprimands, deep down, she was just happy they were safe.
The following morning, breakfast in the Great Hall was as lively as ever. Students were laughing, chatting, and passing plates of toast and sausages. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, sipping a glass of milk and perusing her new Charms textbook. Suddenly, a commotion over her head caught her attention.
With a loud "pop," a gray owl crashed directly into her glass of milk, sending the contents splashing all over her face.
"Errol!" Ron shouted in dismay, quickly leaping up to rescue the exhausted owl. He pulled the bird out of the milk, its feathers dripping, and gently laid it on the table. In Errol's beak was a red envelope, soaked but still unmistakable.
Hermione, her face dripping with milk, looked ready to explode with anger. However, her expression changed the moment she recognized the envelope. She quickly closed her mouth and shot Ron a sympathetic glance instead.
"Oh no…" Ron groaned, his face pale.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, confused by the tension.
"It's a Howler," Ron muttered weakly, slumping in his seat.
"A Howler?" Harry repeated, looking puzzled.
Hermione, always eager to explain, opened her mouth to elaborate. But before she could, Neville chimed in. "You'd better open it quickly, Ron. It's worse if you don't. Trust me—I learned the hard way when my gran sent me one!" He shuddered at the memory.
Ron hesitated for a moment, clearly dreading what was to come. The edges of the red envelope were already beginning to smoke. With trembling hands, he tore it open.
As soon as the envelope was opened, Mrs. Weasley's furious voice erupted with the force of a thunderclap, echoing across the entire Great Hall.
"RONALD WEASLEY!"
Every head in the room turned toward the Gryffindor table. Even the Slytherins at the far end of the Hall paused their breakfast to see what the commotion was about.
"HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR?!" Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed so loudly that it seemed to shake the very walls. "I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED IF YOU WERE EXPELLED! YOU COULD HAVE DIED! HARRY COULD HAVE DIED! AND WHAT ABOUT YOUR FATHER? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH TROUBLE HE'S IN AT WORK BECAUSE OF YOU?"
Ron shrank in his seat, his head barely visible over the table. His face was as red as his hair, and he looked as though he wanted to disappear.
"I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO ASHAMED! IF YOU DON'T BEHAVE YOURSELF FROM NOW ON, YOU'LL BE BACK HOME BEFORE YOU CAN SAY 'QUIDDITCH'!"
The Howler's tirade ended with a final, ear-splitting screech. The envelope burst into flames and disintegrated into ashes, leaving the Hall eerily silent for a moment.
"Bad luck, mate," Seamus whispered, patting Ron sympathetically on the back.
Irina, seated nearby, leaned over and gave Ron a playful nudge on the shoulder. "My condolences," she said with a grin.
Ron groaned and buried his face in his hands. "This is the worst day of my life," he muttered.
Harry, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically quiet. While his name hadn't been mentioned in the Howler, he still felt a deep sense of guilt. If it weren't for him, Ron wouldn't have taken the car in the first place.
The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully, though Ron barely touched his food.
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Herbology Class and the Mandrakes
The first class of the morning was Herbology, and Professor Sprout led the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs to Greenhouse Three. Today's lesson, she announced, would focus on transplanting mandrakes.
"Can anyone tell me the properties of the mandrake?" Professor Sprout asked, holding up a small, leafy plant.
Hermione's hand shot into the air. "The mandrake, or mandragora, is a powerful restorative," she said confidently. "It's used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed back to their original state."
"Excellent, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said with a smile.
She then explained the dangers of the mandrake's cry. Even though the young mandrakes they would be handling weren't fatal, their cries could still cause anyone within earshot to faint.
"Everyone, put on your earmuffs!" she instructed.
Irina double-checked Neville's earmuffs to ensure they were securely fastened, remembering a mishap she'd read about in a magical gardening guide. With the safety measures in place, the class began their work.
Irina's mandrake was oddly calm. Unlike the others, which kicked and screamed as they were pulled from the soil, hers simply stared at her with a curious expression. Confused, Irina swapped mandrakes with Hermione. Strangely, the once-silent mandrake began to wail in Hermione's hands, while the previously noisy one calmed down in Irina's.
"Could it be that I have a natural affinity for magical plants?" Irina wondered aloud.
As she mused, her pet Bowtruckle, Envee, peeked out from her bag. Covering her ears with tiny branch-like fingers, Envee gave Irina an affectionate nuzzle.
"Maybe it's not just plants," Irina thought with a smile. "Perhaps I just have a way with magical creatures too."
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