The Committee Loses Discipline
The room was spacious, its walls lined with shelves full of documents and records. The air smelled of fresh ink and old parchment, with a solemn silence that invited respect. A long, dark wooden table dominated the center, polished enough to reflect the light of the candelabras, and each chair was perfectly aligned, as if no one dared move them an inch out of place.
At the main seat sat Benoît, his expression severe, the frown of a man worn down by patience already stretched too thin. His fingers tapped against a file, while his eyes betrayed the firm decision to drag out the truth no matter who stood before him.
Behind him, Juliette sat as an observer. Her elegant posture and the faintest hint of a smile gave the impression that she was enjoying the spectacle far more than she should have.
The Beauxbatons Disciplinary Committee was no joke, and students usually entered that office trembling. However, on that day, normality was about to break.
Benoît cleared his throat, set his quill aside, and announced:
"Well then, let's begin this interrogation."
POV: Harry Potter
"Can you explain what happened yesterday and why a barrier appeared in the middle of the castle? You'd better not hide anything. I have permission to suspend you if necessary. Remember, this isn't your Hogwarts, dear. Here you can't just do whatever you like."
The air in the room seemed to grow colder with every word.
Harry, however, only smiled calmly, as if it were a casual conversation in a café.
"It's not like I have much to say. We were trapped inside, same as everyone else. About the barrier… well, in the magical world there are different kinds, but the exact material it was made of? I have no idea. What I do know is there were lots of house-elves around. Maybe asking them would be more prudent."
He paused, brushed some dust from his robes, and then added with shameless nonchalance:
"That said, I'm intrigued by the cold in this room. Is it caused by some alchemical device? If so, I'd love to meet the creator. It's very similar to a Muggle appliance that controls room temperature. I'm sure we could adapt it in the Alchemy Club. Could you introduce me?"
Benoît clenched his teeth. The interrogation had only just begun, and already he felt he was being made a fool of.
POV: Draco Malfoy
The next chair was occupied with theatrical flair by Draco. He sat upright, as if he were in an opera box rather than a school interrogation.
"Explain to me what you saw during the incident," ordered Benoît, accusatory tone sharp.
Draco arched an eyebrow and began his speech with the solemnity of generations behind him.
"That question is meaningless. Why should I testify about something I know nothing of? Perhaps what's really happening is that your prestigious school cannot resolve it on its own. Or is it that you're hunting down pureblood lineages? Because I see most of those called here belong to ancient families."
He paused dramatically, locking eyes with the inquisitor.
"Of course, mine is not as old as the Blacks or the Greengrasses, but our connections are unquestionable. If this continues, I may have to speak with my lawyer."
Benoît blinked, baffled. A lawyer? In a school interrogation?
Draco, however, seemed utterly convinced that it was his strongest card.
POV: Hermione Granger
Hermione stepped in with firm strides, determined to be as clear as possible.
"Tell me exactly what you remember of the moment the barrier rose," asked Benoît.
Hermione nodded and began:
"Well, if we analyze the historical context, after the Industrial Revolution the social and economic structure of the Muggle world shifted drastically, which directly influenced how wizards began to interact with modern forms of magical defense. For example—"
The torrent of information fell over Benoît like an avalanche. Book citations, authors' names, international laws, comparisons with magical treaties… From the back, Juliette hid a smile while Benoît sank into his chair, a splitting headache forming.
After fifteen minutes, he raised his hand in desperation.
"Enough," Juliette cut in with elegance.
Hermione closed the book she had somehow produced without anyone noticing, her expression one of frustration at being interrupted.
POV: Daphne Greengrass
The door opened and, to Benoît's despair, Daphne appeared dressed as a prisoner: striped cap and a heavy iron ball chained to her ankle.
Benoît let out a weary sigh.
"First of all, why the costume? Where did you even get it?"
"Oh, this. My mother likes sewing outfits ever since our little 'detective battle' at the beginning of the school year. I asked Laki to bring them over. I also have one as a lawyer, if you'd prefer. Or as a judge."
Juliette couldn't help herself.
"And why would you have one as a judge?"
"Because it looks like one is missing here, and someone has to fill the role."
"This isn't a trial. It's an interrogation," Benoît growled.
"Then I'll use the lawyer one. Actually, I think I heard one of my clients needs me anyway," Daphne replied with a shameless grin.
Benoît pressed a hand to his forehead. He was losing ground by the second.
POV: Fred and George Weasley
"Why are you together here?" Benoît asked, staring at the two identical grins in front of him.
The guard rushed to apologize:
"I'm sorry, sir. I called Fred first, but they refuse to say which one he is."
"He's Fred," said one, pointing at the other.
"Of course not, you're Fred," the other shot back.
"Then I'll be Forge."
"Perfect, I'll be Gred."
Both nodded in satisfaction.
"It's settled. Well then, we'll be on our way," they said in unison, standing up as if the matter was concluded.
"Sit down!" thundered Benoît. "I'll interrogate you both. Can you tell me what this is?" He laid out the confiscated items: explosive sweets and small fireworks.
The twins widened their eyes in mock surprise.
"No idea."
"But they look interesting and cheap."
"Could bring a little fun to this boring school."
"Don't play dumb! These were taken from you just minutes ago!"
The two shrugged.
"Then it must be a mix-up. Are you sure it wasn't some galleons instead?"
"Because if you give us back our galleons, we promise to buy more of these marvelous products."
It was like a commercial in the middle of the disciplinary hall. Benoît felt the vein in his forehead about to burst.
POV: Luciel and Katerina
"So you're telling me you went out walking with your fiancée, tripped over some rocks, and hurt your hands? What about the witnesses who swore they saw you with pieces of armor and two swords?"
Luciel nodded with complete naturalness.
"Ah, that… it was a Romeo and Juliet kind of date."
Katerina glanced at him sideways in annoyance but didn't interrupt.
"Anyway, if you want some advice, you're doing well with your questions. But with the other students, I'd use different tactics: good cop, bad cop, psychological games, or simply waiting until they get tired. Everyone has a social battery limit. And then—bam! Behind bars."
Katerina elbowed him to make him shut up.
Benoît stared at him in disbelief. He didn't even seem aware he was being interrogated.
In the end, Benoît threw the day's notes to the ground. His breathing was ragged, his eyes bloodshot.
"Those damn brats! I'll suspend them all!" he roared, his hand going to his wand as if he wanted to blow the whole place up.
Juliette, however, rose calmly, adjusting her uniform.
"Without proof, the Headmistress won't accept anything," she said softly, savoring the scene.
Benoît didn't listen. He went on shouting while the students, already outside the office, left chatting peacefully as if nothing had happened.
From the hallway, the secretary observed the open door with resignation.
"Well, that was fun. We should do these gatherings more often," Fred remarked with a mischievous smile toward the new prisoner-friends he had made in the process.
"That's exactly what I was about to say," added George, wearing the same mischievous grin.
Harry narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.
"I still remember you owe me for the potion."
The twins exchanged a silent smile before dropping a small bag of items into Harry's hands. Without giving him time to react, they bolted.
"Take it as an apology!" Fred shouted from the hallway as both disappeared in a hurry.
Harry looked down at the bag and blinked in surprise: it was the exact same stash of explosive sweets and gadgets Benoît had confiscated before the interrogation. Somehow, the twins had managed to recover it… right under the Committee's nose.
"This is definitely going to drive him even crazier," Harry muttered with resignation, tucking the bag under his arm.
Luciel, who had been watching with his arms crossed, let out a short chuckle.
"They seem like fun kids," he said, before looking at the group with curiosity. "So, what's your plan now?"
Daphne was quick to answer, serious but in such a casual tone it was as if she were talking about the weather.
"Our plan is not to fight a god in our second school year, so we'll be going back to Aunt Wanda."
"Right, better head back quickly," Harry agreed, nodding with his arms still crossed.
The four of them set off without hesitation, walking together toward Wanda's office, as if that were the most obvious conclusion in the world.
Luciel and Katerina stood still, watching them go.
"Fight a god?" they repeated in unison, incredulous.
"Mum, we're back," Harry announced as he opened the door to Wanda's office, the other three following close behind.
The group had barely taken two steps before freezing on the spot.
Wanda stood there in the center of the room, dressed in the Scarlet Witch's attire. Her silhouette radiated a presence impossible to ignore; the very air seemed to distort, shifting in shape and density as if obeying her will. Red threads of energy coiled around her, lighting the room with an unsettling glow.
Her crimson gaze slowly rose until it fell upon the four children.
"…Shit," the four of them muttered in unison, a shiver running down their spines.
Harry swallowed hard, barely able to move his lips.
"There was the god."