Chapter 39
And so, Professor McGonagall used the Prior Incantato spell to analyze the spells Devero had cast that day. With a gentle wave of her wand, she uttered the incantation:
"Prior Incantato!"
A faint blue light shimmered in the air, enveloping Devero like a thin mist. The light swirled slowly, forming transparent images, each one documenting a spell Devero had used that day.
The first image showed Devero in the dormitory. He lightly waved his wand and said, "Accio!" His toad hopped out from a corner under the bed, landing in his hand. Professor McGonagall nodded; this spell was clearly used to summon his toad.
The second image depicted an earlier moment at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Devero's broom had gone out of control, hurtling toward a tree. He hurriedly raised his wand and shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" A force lifted him, allowing him to land steadily on the ground.
"That's the spell! He must've used it to make me fly!" Malfoy shouted, pointing at the image, his eyes eagerly turning to the final vision, desperate to see it prove Devero had cast a spell on him.
But the last image showed Devero attempting to repair his broom. He crouched under a tree, touching the stuck broom and muttering, "Reparo!" The broom, however, remained unresponsive, still bearing a large crack.
Devero stood calmly, almost bored, as the images played out. After reviewing them, Professor McGonagall lowered her wand and turned to Devero.
"Devero," her voice was calm but firm, "these spells were used in emergencies. I can see you didn't misuse them."
Devero nodded, offering the professor a slight smile. "Yes, Professor. I only wanted to ensure my safety and my toad's."
"It appears Mr. Alexander's spells were not against the rules," McGonagall declared, her words carrying unquestionable authority.
Malfoy's face turned ashen. Though he'd had a bad feeling when he first accused Devero, the situation had spiraled far beyond his control.
McGonagall turned to Malfoy, her gaze icy enough to freeze hearts. "Draco Malfoy," she said coldly, "your behavior was utterly irresponsible. Not only did you baselessly accuse a fellow student, but you also tried to disrupt the class's harmony."
Malfoy opened his mouth to protest, but McGonagall cut him off. "I will not tolerate such behavior. For this, Slytherin will lose fifty points. I hope you'll remember this and learn to respect your peers!"
A deathly silence fell over the grassy field. The Slytherins, except for Malfoy's cronies, glared at him with anger and reproach. Malfoy's face grew even uglier as he lowered his head, unable to meet McGonagall's gaze.
At that moment, Devero stepped forward with remarkable grace, extending his hand. "Malfoy, why don't we shake hands and make peace?"
McGonagall's eyes flickered with approval. The Slytherins exchanged glances, murmuring:
"That's class."
"Alexander's so gracious, willing to forgive Malfoy."
"If you ask me, Alexander's the one who'll make something of himself—not relying on family, but on his own strength and dignity!"
"Exactly! He even knows the Summoning Charm, which is for higher years! We can't even manage the Levitation Charm properly!"
The Slytherins had fully rallied behind Devero, won over by his skill and charisma. In just a week, thanks to his abilities, conduct, and a certain spoiled boy's antics, Devero was emerging as the unspoken leader of Slytherin's first years. Meanwhile, Malfoy, who should've held that position, had become a laughingstock.
Malfoy froze, clearly unprepared for Devero's gesture. He glanced at the outstretched hand, hesitating. The weight of everyone's stares and the undeniable atmosphere finally pushed him to extend his own hand for a handshake.
But just as their hands were about to meet, Devero did something completely unexpected—he pulled Malfoy into a hug.
The crowd was stunned. Even Malfoy looked dumbfounded. Devero held him tightly and whispered so only Malfoy could hear, "Not bad, you almost saw through me. But do you think I wouldn't be fully prepared?"
Malfoy's pupils shrank in shock.
Devero released him, stepping back with a smile. Malfoy stood frozen, as if struck by lightning, pointing at Devero but unable to form words.
"You…" Malfoy's voice trembled, but no complete sentence came out.
Devero's lips curled into a cold smirk, his gaze like a viper's. Malfoy's eyes filled with deep fear—he realized he was no match for this person.
"I'll tell my father! I'll get you expelled!" Malfoy shouted hysterically, his voice breaking with anger and despair. His face flushed red, tears welling in his eyes, fists clenched tightly.
Devero's lips twitched, amused. Hogwarts' ultimate daddy's boy had finally played his trump card. But Devero, backed by Snape's promise and Dumbledore's stamp of approval as a prodigy, wasn't fazed by threats from a school governor.
He looked at Malfoy calmly, his eyes tinged with mockery. "Malfoy, you always seem to resort to that solution."
Devero tilted his neck, cracking it lightly, the smile fading from his face. His gaze turned icy, piercing into Malfoy as if seeing through his soul.
"You'd better tell your father to be ready. I'm not that easy to deal with."
Malfoy shuddered at Devero's words, his body trembling involuntarily.
***
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