Chapter 71

"Regrettably, the use of Veritaserum is strictly controlled by the Ministry," McGonagall said, "and is not used in the investigations of school rule infractions."

"Then, doesn't the fact that I was going to volunteer to take it count towards me?"

"Not if you were already aware of these regulations, Mr. Amastacia-Liadon."

Milo stared at her, fear rising. He couldn't believe he was about to be expelled for something that happened offstage.

"You can't just expel me without any proof!" he protested.

"I have twenty-six eyewitness reports that say you brazenly used the Hurling Hex on Mr. Potter in the middle of a Quidditch match in plain sight!"

"But—but I didn't!" Milo was appalled that that was the best argument he could think of.

"You will pack your school trunk in your dormitory, where you will remain until morning when you will be taken to the Ministry to have your wand destroyed—"

"My wand!" Milo said with sudden inspiration. "Here, look—" Milo drew his wand from his pocket.

"I don't have time for this foolishness," McGonagall muttered.

"But—look at it, Professor! I had it on me the whole time, what wand did I allegedly use to hex Harry? Was it chestnut, thirteen inches, with dragon heartstring core? No! It can't have been because all wands are unique."

"It only would have been visible for a few seconds," McGonagall said, "nobody reported what wand you used."

Milo's hopes deflated. That was his last hope. He couldn't believe he was going to be thrown out of Hogwarts because a crowd of NPCs failed their Spot checks to see something he wasn't even there for.

"So..." Milo said hesitantly. "What happens now? Where will I go?"

"After the Ministry?" McGonagall said. For an almost imperceptible moment, her gaze seemed to soften. "After your wand has been destroyed, it's quite up to you."

"Very well, Professor. I'll head to my dormitory now." Milo walked back to the familiar sights of the Gryffindor Common Room in a daze.

o—o—o—o

"And then I hit him with a water balloon and said 'Hey, Malfoy, think fast!'" Ron said exuberantly, causing Hermione to snort in a most unladylike fashion. "How'd everything go with Grabbe and Coyle?"

"Oh, it was no trouble at all. I just walked up to them and said, 'oh no, I'm just a poor defenceless Muggleborn girl who misplaced her wand, whatever shall I do?'" Hermione said with a wicked grin. "Took them about five seconds to try and hex me. Anything I did after that was purely self-defence, you understand."

The pair of them were waiting outside Pomfrey's hospital wing for the strict witch to declare Harry fit for visitors.

Eventually, the heavy doors opened.

"Oh," Pomfrey said wearily. "It's you lot again. Well, come in, come in," she ushered the pair into the ward.

"Visitors!" Neville said happily, his nose just poking out between thick bandages. "I never get visitors!"

"Nah, we're here for Harry," said Ron, ignoring a sharp look from Hermione.

"Hey," said Harry. Injuries notwithstanding, he seemed to be in high spirits. "Did you hear? Or see? I caught it! Looks like I'm not rubbish after all!"

"To tell the truth, I only caught the first bit," Ron admitted, looking apologetic. "But that's only because our plan worked. Can you believe it? Malfoy told me everything!"

As he happily told Harry about Malfoy's crackpot scheme involving the Firebolts and the Nimbuses, Harry burst out laughing, clutching his sides.

"So when they saw me lose control of my broom," he asked when he could finally breathe, "they thought Milo hexed me?"

"Nutty, isn't it?"

"Where is he, by the way?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Dunno," said Ron. "Good question. Haven't seen him since before the match. You don't... you don't think Snape caught him, do you?"

"Can't have," Neville said. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to him, somewhat surprised that he'd spoken. "He was at the Quidditch game."

"What, really?" Ron asked. "He could have helped with Malfoy, then."

"Can't have," Neville said, his face (well, the visible parts anyways) uncharacteristically grim. "He was too busy hexing Harry's broomstick."

"You mean Malfoy was right?" Ron asked, alarmed. "Merlin's pants! That turncoat!"

"Looks like," Neville said sullenly.

"No," said Harry firmly. "I don't believe it. He was set up."

"I saw it myself! He just stood up, pulled out his wand, and hexed you! Right in plain sight!"

There was a brief silence.

"Did you say wand?" Harry asked.

o—o—o—o

"Password?" asked the Fat Lady.

"Squeak," Milo replied, and the portrait swung open. Stupid password, he thought to himself. The 'ultra-secure' Common Room can be infiltrated by a Fighter in heavy armour after a rainy day.

As soon as Milo entered the Common Room, he wished he still had Invisibility prepared. The sounds of partying cut off immediately when he came into sight, and everyone simply stared at him silently. Milo walked directly to the dorm, and the crowd parted slightly around him—it seemed that nobody wanted to touch him. Milo was surprised at how much their shocked disapproval hurt him—they were only NPCs, after all.

He collapsed onto his four-poster bed, exhausted. He knew he should be thinking of a plan, some clever scheme, to get out of this, but he just felt too tired. He'd been defeated, that was all there was to it.

He was going to be expelled. Lucius had won.

o—o—o—o

"Professor!" Hermione practically shouted, knocking sharply on the office door. There was no reply. "She must be out somewhere!" she moaned.

"Maybe—maybe she's in the staff room?" Ron suggested, "or the Great Hall?"

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