Hermione felt like her face was on fire.
Her front teeth continued growing uncontrollably. They had already passed her chin and now stuck down toward her collarbone like those of a beaver.
She covered her mouth desperately with both hands.
Tears blurred her vision, turning the chaotic scene in front of her into a distorted swirl of light and shadow.
"How dare you—"
Seamus, his face covered in soot, was shouting at the Slytherin crowd. His wand was still spitting sparks.
Beside him, Dean Thomas tried to grab Neville. The normally timid boy was charging wildly with his eyes closed.
"He deserved it!" Goyle wiped the blood from his nose. His face showed not fear but prideful arrogance. "That kind of blood doesn't belong at Hogwarts!"
Amid the angry Gryffindors, one figure looked especially awkward.
Percy Weasley.
The prefect who always quoted school rules now had a face the color of liver. He had just freed himself from the Devil's Snare vines.
He had raised his arms to stop his brothers, but when he heard Goyle's insult, his hands froze in midair.
Percy was trembling.
If he tried to repeat empty talk about rule-breaking now, or if he sided with the professors against his own House, his authority in Gryffindor would vanish completely.
A prefect's authority came not only from the professors but also from the recognition of their House.
Percy suddenly turned around, as if making a decision. With shaking anger, he pointed at the Slytherin captain.
"Control your pack of mad dogs!"
"Oh? Defending them now?" Draco's dragging, nauseating tone echoed again. "The Weasley prefect only knows how to protect poor idiots..."
°Petrificus Totalus°
°Protego°
More spells exploded across the corridor.
Then—
"What is going on here!"
Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
Through the gaps between her fingers, Hermione saw the professor marching forward in a tartan dressing gown. Her hair bun was tight, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Behind her came a far more suffocating presence.
Snape.
He silently stepped between the two groups of students. His black robes did not even move, yet his presence was heavier than any spell.
Hermione's first instinct as a top student was simple.
This was the end.
"Brawling like Muggles..." Snape's gaze fixed on Harry and Percy. "Gryffindor manners are truly impressive. Prefect Weasley, is this how you manage your House?"
"Professor, they started—" Percy tried to explain.
"Talking back to a professor. Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said instantly. "I saw everything clearly. A group of thugs surrounding my students."
"Severus!" McGonagall's voice shook with anger as she stepped forward. "You cannot judge from only one side! Look at Mr. Longbottom's face! And—good heavens, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shrank.
She did not want to be noticed now. She did not want anyone to see her ridiculous teeth.
She lowered her head even further.
Yet at that moment, Hermione noticed something strange. In a corner, a figure covered in blood slightly raised his eyes.
Lucian.
Even through her tears and the chaos, Hermione felt the weight of that gaze.
The boy leaning against the wall, his robes soaked in blood.
He seemed to glance briefly at Ron. Or perhaps Harry. But just moments ago, that corner had been empty.
The thought flashed through Hermione's mind before disappearing.
A Disillusionment Charm?
Or had she simply failed to notice him in the chaos?
The next moment, Ron suddenly stepped forward.
"Professor!" Ron shouted hoarsely. "This isn't a fight! We were defending ourselves! Malfoy cursed Neville and almost made him break his neck!"
Low laughter came from the Slytherins.
"Evidence, Weasley?" Snape asked softly. "Do you have proof? Or is this another fantasy produced by your impoverished brain?"
"And another thing!" Ron pointed directly at Malfoy, his finger shaking violently as he forced the words out. "When we confronted him just now... he called Hermione a Mudblood!"
Hermione saw Professor McGonagall gasp.
Her stern expression twisted with righteous anger.
Snape, however— The sarcastic man looked like he had been struck by a petrification spell.
The color drained completely from his face.
Hermione had never seen such a terrifying expression on a professor before.
Snape stared at Draco as if seeing some hateful ghost behind him.
"You said that word?"
Draco's smug expression vanished. He stepped back under Snape's murderous stare.
"I... Professor, I only..."
"Slytherin loses fifty points." Snape forced the words out through clenched teeth. "For your disgusting language, Malfoy."
The corridor fell silent.
Even the Gryffindors were stunned.
The old bat had deducted points from his own House.
But the moment passed quickly.
The anger burning inside Snape turned toward Gryffindor.
"However," Snape continued coldly, "that does not excuse dozens of students gathering in a corridor to fight. Verbal offense is not permission for violence."
He looked at McGonagall. "Minerva. If this is to be a fair judgment..."
McGonagall gripped her wand tightly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Emotionally, she wanted to send every Slytherin to detention.
But the rules— The same rules that bound both her and Hermione—
Gryffindor had attacked first. Gryffindor had caused the chaos. As Deputy Headmistress, she could not ignore that.
"...Gryffindor," she said slowly, closing her eyes. "Did violate school rules. For participating in this fight... Gryffindor loses fifty points."
"What?!" the twins shouted in disbelief.
"That's not fair!" Harry cried.
"Fair?" Snape sneered. His gaze moved across the furious lions and the venomous snakes. "This is the greatest fairness possible. Everyone pays for their stupidity."
Hermione leaned against the cold wall and watched.
There were no winners.
Gryffindor's justice had been reduced to numbers.
Slytherin's cruelty had been brushed aside with a few scoldings.
Percy was still arguing with McGonagall. The twins were making rude gestures at Slytherin. Malfoy hid in the crowd but still mouthed insults toward Ron.
The conflict had not been resolved.
It had simply been buried under a lid while hatred continued to ferment below.
Hermione pressed her hands against her mouth. Her enormous teeth felt heavier than ever.
Then Snape noticed something else.
He narrowed his eyes toward the corner and walked over.
The Slytherin students moved aside automatically, revealing the boy leaning against the wall.
Lucian's left shoulder was torn open.
Blood dripped from his arm onto the floor.
Drip. Drip.
Snape stepped forward to inspect the wound.
Lucian did not cry out or accuse anyone.
Instead, he shifted slightly and exposed the injury fully under the torchlight.
"Is this Gryffindor courage?" Snape said coldly as he turned back to the group.
"In the corridor, using explosive spells..." He pointed toward Lucian's wound. "Attempted murder of a Ravenclaw student?"
"We didn't!" Harry protested desperately. "It was an accident! Everyone was casting spells!"
"An accident?"
Snape laughed quietly.
"Mr. Potter believes nearly killing a fellow student is merely an accident?"
"Professor..."
Lucian finally spoke.
"It really was an accident."
The boy leaned weakly against the wall. His lips had lost all color from blood loss. Yet his tone remained calm.
He looked at McGonagall rather than Snape.
"I was only passing by... I didn't expect to be caught in a conversation between two Houses. Gryffindor probably did not intend to target me... even though the spell did come from Harry's direction."
Hermione's swollen eyes widened.
It sounded like he was defending Harry. But every sentence sealed Harry's guilt.
He confirmed the direction of the spell. He confirmed that he had been an innocent bystander.
And his calm, forgiving attitude contrasted sharply with the angry Gryffindors still holding dungbombs.
"Did you hear that, Minerva?" Snape said coldly. "This is Gryffindor. Arrogant, reckless, violent. Your proud lions."
McGonagall's lips disappeared into a thin line.
She looked at Lucian's blood, Hermione's grotesque teeth, and the wrecked corridor.
The disappointment in her eyes hurt Hermione more than any curse.
"Gryffindor will receive detention."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"Everyone who participated tonight."
"And," Snape added, his eyes fixed on Harry like a snake, "Potter will serve one month of detention in my office for causing serious injury to another student."
"As for points..." McGonagall inhaled deeply. "Another one hundred points will be deducted."
"What?" Harry shouted.
"One hundred points!" McGonagall suddenly exploded with anger.
"For wandering the corridors at night! For this disgraceful fight! A total of one hundred and sixty points! Gryffindor will lose any chance at the House Cup!"
One hundred and sixty. Hermione felt dizzy.
Everything was gone.
"All of you leave! Back to your dormitories!"
The crowd dispersed in panic.
Slytherin students returned to their common room with satisfied smiles. Gryffindors left with lowered heads.
Only Hermione remained standing.
"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said as she arrived and gasped at Hermione's enormous teeth. "Good lord, what kind of curse is this? Come with me immediately."
As Hermione passed the corner, she glanced up.
Snape was treating Lucian's wound.
Lucian leaned against the wall, pale as paper, calm as if watching a ridiculous play.
His eyes drifted past Snape's shoulder and landed on Hermione.
Hermione quickly lowered her head and turned away as Madam Pomfrey led her down the dark corridor.
The ache in her teeth continued. But something else hurt more.
One hundred and sixty points.
Until tonight, those points had been proof of her existence.
They were the spells she memorized late into the night. The parchment she studied endlessly in the library. The arm she raised again and again in class.
She believed that was the whole world of magic.
If you were smart enough, obedient enough, hardworking enough, you would earn recognition.
You would prove that word—Mudblood—Was wrong.
But tonight reality slapped her hard.
Draco had broken every rule and suffered almost nothing. Gryffindor used violence yet was still praised for bravery.
And she— She had only tried to stop them.
To maintain order.
And what had she become?
A laughingstock. A beaver...The reason her House lost the Cup. Even Professor McGonagall looked at her with disappointment.
'Maybe Lucian was right.'
Once the thought appeared, it refused to leave.
The torchlight flickered along the corridor, twisting her shadow.
If rules were merely chains for the honest... If hard work could not bring justice... If authority became blind before power and manipulation...
Then what was Hermione Granger supposed to be?
A joke?
Tears fell silently.
Through blurred vision she stared at the wand in her hand. It suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Powerless.
Something inside her broke.
The childhood belief in fairness and justice shattered quietly inside a twelve-year-old girl's heart.
Her hand moved unconsciously to her pocket.
Inside was the alchemical Galleon with the Ouroboros engraving.
Lucian's ticket.
Before, she had thought it was a doorway into forbidden darkness... But now, in the ruins of her beliefs, it felt like the only key to truth.
For the first time, the world revealed its cruel and absurd nature.
If following the rules only led to nothing... Then perhaps it was time to see what existed beyond them.
__________
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