"Bloody brilliant! I've never seen that spell before!" Fred whipped out his wand before anyone could blink.
"Langlock!"
He aimed straight at George, who'd just opened his mouth to speak. The words died in a muffled grunt. But George didn't look remotely concerned—instead, both twins dissolved into laughter, George making exaggerated gestures while his tongue stayed firmly glued.
Lee Jordan looked ready to test it himself, but the barman fixed him with a look sharp enough to cut glass. Lee reluctantly pocketed his wand.
"If we'd known about this ages ago, we could've upgraded our Ton-Tongue Toffees!" Fred said, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Definitely useful," Angelina agreed, cracking her knuckles. "Next time someone won't shut up during practice, I'll know exactly what to do."
"I'm already counting down to the next meeting," Lee announced. "You lot better find us a proper practice space soon."
"We've got some 'highly classified' shopping to do anyway." Fred winked. "Catch you later."
The group began trickling out in pairs and small clusters. Several people kept shooting glances at Orli—quick, nervous looks like they wanted to say something but didn't quite dare. Ginny lingered deliberately at the back, catching Harry's eye with a smile and a wave before disappearing through the door.
The moment the last person left, Hermione rounded on Orli.
"What was that? You were openly threatening them!"
"The stronger the deterrent, the tighter the constraint." Orli shrugged, completely unbothered. "If we want them keeping their mouths shut, there needs to be real consequences."
"You looked scarier than Umbridge," Ron muttered.
"Perfect," Orli said. "If they're more afraid of me than her, they won't go running to tell tales. Fear works better than morality ever will."
"But some of them might resent you now," Hermione protested. "They won't trust you—"
"They don't need to trust me. They need to trust Harry." Orli waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not trying to win a popularity contest."
"Right, but what about that pink lady?" Ron asked. "What's her deal?"
"Muffliato." Orli flicked her wand in a circle around them. The ambient noise of the pub suddenly felt distant, muffled. She lowered her voice. "Rita Skeeter. She's demanded absolute secrecy—Umbridge and the Ministry can never learn who 'Miss Beetle' really is."
"Where do you even learn these spells?" Hermione leaned forward, curiosity overriding her disapproval.
"Ages ago. Can't quite remember where I picked them up." Orli's answer came too quickly, too vague. The truth was both Muffliato and Langlock came from Snape—scribbled in the margins of that battered copy of Advanced Potion-Making he'd given her. But that wasn't a conversation she wanted to have.
"Will this actually work?" Harry held up the newspaper, studying the pink lady's article with skepticism written across his face.
"It'll make Umbridge's life hell, at minimum." Orli glanced around at the scattered chairs, the empty glasses. "Hermione, we've got problems in that group. Several of them."
"Agreed. That Ravenclaw git, for one," Ron said immediately.
"Which one?"
"The one who wouldn't shut up with the questions. Dark hair, dark skin."
"Oh, Michael Corner." Hermione's mouth twisted. "I don't like him much either. He's been sniffing around Ginny for ages. He overheard me talking with her and Luna about this, practically invited himself. What was I supposed to say—no?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (150+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here: patreon.com/DarkGolds
Happy reading, everyone!