Sean's voice, cold and unwavering, cut through the angry shouts like a knife through butter, silencing the clamoring crowd.
The boy he had restrained slowly pulled himself up, rubbing his wrist. He looked at Sean, a hint of surprise warring with his earlier aggression. "You mean... our money wasn't spent? The potions are actually ready?"
Sean offered no verbal reply. He simply stepped aside and nodded to Blaise.
Blaise, for his part, needed no further instruction. With a flourish, he began pulling bottle after bottle of perfectly brewed potions from the enchanted bag, setting them neatly on the table.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Disbelief, then dawning realization, flashed across their faces.
"There really are potions!"
"Andy wasn't lying!"
"Let's check the quality first, just to be sure, don't—"
"Yes, we should definitely check them."
Amidst the growing murmur of speculation and burgeoning shame, Andy Pucey, his face bruised and swollen, pushed forward. He forced a smile, his usual charm returning despite his injuries. "Everyone," he announced, his voice ringing with renewed confidence. "As I said, there would be no shortage of potions. It's not quite noon yet, but it's close enough. Please, line up and collect your orders in an orderly fashion."
Sean watched Andy, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. Then, with a flicker of feigned anger, he turned to Andy. "Andy, are you really just going to let them off for hitting you and spreading false rumors?"
Andy immediately understood the unspoken cue. He turned back to the queue of students, his smile softening. "I believe you've all been misled by unfortunate rumors, leading to a misunderstanding," he said, his tone gentle, almost forgiving. "So the fault is not entirely yours. Perhaps I also set the delivery time too close to the wire. I will learn from this. Now, let's begin the distribution."
Together, they navigated the awkward process. Sean's subtle manipulation, combined with Andy's forgiving demeanor, subtly shifted the atmosphere. The students, relieved of their guilt and embarrassment, began to feel a burgeoning sense of gratitude toward Andy. Whispers of apology could be heard as they collected their orders, some even promising to remain loyal customers, vowing never to take their business elsewhere. Andy, for his part, looked genuinely touched by their renewed loyalty.
When the last potion had been handed over, Andy collapsed onto a nearby bench, letting out a long, shuddering breath. "I thought I was finished," he said, rubbing his bruised jaw. "I truly thought I was going to lose everything." He looked at Sean and Blaise, his eyes shining with profound gratitude. "Sean, Blaise, thank you. You have no idea how much you've helped me. If it weren't for you, not only would my business have been ruined, but I probably wouldn't be able to show my face in Hogwarts again."
He sat up straighter. "Oh, and I'll return the materials for these potions as soon as possible. Give me three days, and not a single bronze Knut will be missing."
"Don't worry about the money, Andy," Sean replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But those ingredients... they were borrowed from the Head of Slytherin. I'd return them sooner rather than later, unless you want your coming days to be very, very difficult."
Andy's eyes widened. He grabbed Sean's arm, his voice a panicked whisper. "You actually borrowed them from Professor Snape?"
"Who else in Hogwarts would have that many potion ingredients?" Sean asked with a rhetorical shrug.
Andy let out another shaky breath. The sheer audacity of it. To not only ask Snape for ingredients but to actually succeed. He'd long heard rumors of Snape's favoritism towards Sean, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. This wasn't just favoritism; it was the treatment of a favored son.
Of course, Andy thought, neither Professor Snape nor Sean himself could ever know I thought that. The idea alone was enough to earn him a decade of detention.
"Andy..." Sean's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and sudden.
Andy shivered, a forced smile plastered on his face. "Sean, is something wrong?"
Sean looked at him, his eyebrows raised slightly, a touch of genuine confusion in his eyes. "I just felt something strange. You weren't secretly badmouthing me in your head, were you?"
"No way!" Andy immediately denied, his voice high-pitched. "How could I? You just saved my life! You must be tired, Sean. You're imagining things."
"Really?" Sean narrowed his eyes, studying Andy suspiciously. He couldn't explain it, but he had a distinct feeling that Andy had just been thinking something unflattering. A strange premonition, appearing out of nowhere.
With a shrug and a yawn, Sean waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind. Perhaps you're right. I'm just tired. I'll grab some food and head back to bed."
But just as he was about to move, his eyes caught sight of a figure quickly making his way out of the Great Hall. Sean's expression turned cold. He leaned closer to Andy. "That's the guy, isn't it?"
Andy followed Sean's gaze. It was Robbins. The boy's brisk departure seemed to deflate what was left of Andy's good mood. "I don't know that person, Sean," he said, his voice flat. "Let's just leave it be."
Sean turned to him, disappointment etching his features. "I truly suspect you had your brain stepped on by a Troll as a child, Andy. You're completely brain-dead." He saw the familiar, pleading look in Andy's eyes. Sean sighed. "Fine. I promise I won't go looking for trouble with him."
He paused, a dark, dangerous glint entering his eyes. "But just because I won't go after Robbins doesn't mean I won't go after that other scoundrel. He's been meddling and causing trouble for me all day. If I don't teach him a lesson, he'll think I'm made of mud." He cracked his knuckles. "Besides, his little scheme just happened to present a convenient opportunity. I haven't had a proper duel since the start of term, and my hands are itching."
With that, Sean set off, following Robbins's retreating figure. He reasoned that Robbins, having failed completely, would undoubtedly seek out Dorian to discuss their next move. By following Robbins, he could find that "smiling tiger," Dorian, and teach him a lesson he would never forget.
As expected, Sean tailed Robbins from a distance, following him all the way to the Quidditch Pitch. Dorian was there, sitting in the stands, casually watching the team practice.
Robbins quickly approached Dorian, recounting in detail the events that had just unfolded in the Great Hall. Dorian's face turned ashen, his good mood evaporating instantly. He started to rise, clearly intending to leave, when his eyes widened. He saw Sean, Blaise, and Andy walking purposefully toward him.
Dorian's expression morphed into a fake smile as he prepared to greet them. But as he came before Sean, before he could utter a single word, Sean suddenly raised his fist and punched Dorian squarely on the nose.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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