Chapter 91
Chapter 91
Harry was indeed in the library, suffering alongside Ron.
They had little choice. It was Sunday, and every assignment was due on Monday.
While the two boys wrote furiously, Hermione sat at her ease with a book.
Suer placed a stack of volumes on the table and sat beside her. He too had completed his homework. Work done together with Hermione could hardly be called copying; it was academic discussion.
“What are these?” Hermione picked up Foundations of Spell Theory and leafed through it.
“I’ve just come from Professor McGonagall. She recommended them.”
“What sort of spell are you studying?”
“A casting technique.” Suer pushed his note-covered papyrus towards her. “Have a look if you’re interested.”
Two minds were better than one, and Suer was happy to have Hermione studying beside him. Professor McGonagall had never said the material was secret.
He also intended to share it with Cedric, whose fourth-year knowledge would surely help.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, shrugged, massaged their aching wrists, and returned miserably to work.
At precisely eight, Madam Pince rapped the shelves with her feather duster. Only then did Suer realise that the library was closing.
Harry and Ron reluctantly put down their quills. Several assignments remained unfinished, so they would have to work through the night in their dormitory.
“Harry, wait.” Suer tugged quietly at his sleeve and fell behind with him.
“What is it?”
“Could I borrow your Invisibility Cloak again?”
“Of course. I’ll bring it to breakfast tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I only need it for a day. You’ll have it back Tuesday.”
“No hurry.”
The night passed without incident. At breakfast, Harry delivered the Cloak. Colin Creevey also brought the photographs he had finished developing. Electronics did not work at Hogwarts, but his camera was mechanical, and processing the film had taken time.
Colin had thoughtfully applied developing solution to the magical pictures as well.
The lively image of Malfoy embracing the turf was a testament to his skill.
With every prop ready, Suer’s plan could begin. This time, the boy who boasted endlessly about his father being a school governor would receive a memorable lesson.
The plan was simple, though Suer first needed to lure Malfoy out before curfew. A note would suffice.
No young wizard would refuse a secret nighttime invitation from a girl.
That evening, Suer composed a suggestive letter and slipped it into Malfoy’s pocket during dinner.
Later, he told Justin and Morn, who were playing wizard chess, that he was going to bed. He Transfigured a book into his own likeness, tucked it beneath the covers to provide an alibi, put on the Invisibility Cloak, and slipped out while other Hufflepuffs passed through the common-room entrance.
He carried several upgraded Dungbombs obtained from Fred and George. The twins called them Ultimate Dungbombs. Their demonstration had proved that while the new version caused little physical harm, its capacity for humiliation was immense.
Suer also needed a wand that could not be traced to him. He remembered the Room of Requirement contained heaps of discarded ones, and earlier that day had found an old wand there. Its magic was weak and unreliable, but it would do.
At eight, concealed beneath the Cloak, he approached an unused classroom off a first-floor corridor. The door stood slightly ajar.
Malfoy was already inside. His hair was combed neatly back, and he wore expensive clothes–the gold thread made clear they were not school robes.
What a pity. The clothes would be ruined by morning.
Let this teach you to be wary, young man, Suer thought as he drew the old wand and approached.
The ancient door creaked open. Malfoy turned, expecting a pretty witch, and saw only a beam of light.
Utterly unprepared, he toppled backwards.
The door creaked shut. Silence followed. Unable to see anything but the ceiling, Malfoy began to panic.
“Draco Malfoy?” rasped a voice in the empty room.
His pupils contracted. Whoever had come meant him harm.
The curse had naturally come from Suer beneath the Cloak. A minor spell produced the hoarse voice; he had learnt it simply because it amused him.
If he ever struggled to find work, he could always become a voice actor in the Muggle world. Heh.
“A lesson for you, Draco Malfoy,” Suer chuckled. “In your next life, don’t follow anonymous notes into empty rooms. If you’d stayed in your common room, I couldn’t have touched you.”
“Avada…”
An arm emerged from beneath the Cloak. The wand tip entered Malfoy’s field of vision, and the pure-blood boy’s eyes rolled back in terror. He knew precisely what curse appeared to be coming.
“Fainted?” Suer had not come to kill him. Unless he wanted Dumbledore to send him straight to Azkaban and the Dementor’s Kiss. “How dull.”
“Perhaps it’s better this way.”
He waved the wand several times and placed the Ultimate Dungbombs beneath Malfoy. The moment he woke and moved, he would trigger them.
“Enjoy yourself, Malfoy.”
Suer left the classroom, satisfied.
One last step remained: finding Peeves, the perfect scapegoat. Suer discovered him near Filch’s office, preparing to throw Dungbombs inside. Once informed that Malfoy lay helpless in a first-floor classroom, Peeves would certainly give the boy an unforgettable night.
Suer’s involvement was over.
He could hardly wait for morning.