Astoria had been about to slip away the moment she heard Dumbledore speak, but Tom grabbed her wrist and held her firmly in place.

So leaving now wasn’t an option.

Once most of the onlookers and unrelated students had cleared out, Dumbledore, as the host, stepped forward and gently asked what had happened.

Draco still looked relatively composed. Aside from a bit of dust on the hem of his robe, which he brushed off almost reflexively, he held himself together.

His glasses were shattered into a spiderweb of cracks, his hair clung messily to his forehead, and his arm was scraped raw. Moments ago, he’d taken a curse head-on while shielding Ron behind him. After being knocked down, someone had taken the opportunity to stomp on him a few times. His uniform was covered in shoeprints, layered dark and light.

Without his glasses, the Boy Who Lived could barely see. He stumbled over his words, incoherent and all over the place, as if his IQ had suddenly dropped by half.

Harry blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, then launched into an explanation alongside Draco.

As they spoke, Fontaine swept a sharp gaze over his own students. No one stepped forward to contradict them. Only two students hesitantly repeated the insults that had been thrown at Harry and Draco.

When the two boys finished, they both lowered their heads, nerves twisting in their chests.

Silence settled over the corridor. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

As for the other headmasters, they stood off to the side like it had nothing to do with them, openly enjoying the spectacle.

Tom clicked his tongue, breaking the awkward quiet.

"And Professor Okeye—your students..." He paused, then went on, tone mild but pointed. "Your school might want to put more emphasis on cultural education. Can’t have them jumping at a couple of instigating words and becoming someone else’s weapon. Don’t you agree?"

Okeye’s old face flushed red.

Voluntary? What part of this could possibly be called voluntary?

"My apologies. This is my oversight."

"Professor Fontaine, Professor Okeye—these are young people. It’s natural for tempers to flare."

"I agree," Okeye said quickly, nodding in relief.

Fontaine had no objections either. He cast a cold glance over his students, already considering how to deal with them once they returned.

"Hold on."

"This whole mess started because of them. Professor Fontaine, you don’t disagree, do you?"

"Everyone else might have just followed along," Tom said, his tone cooling, "but the ringleaders shouldn’t get off lightly."

"And what exactly are you proposing?" Fontaine asked, voice low, a hint of caution creeping in.

"I’m just a student. I can make suggestions, but I don’t have the authority to punish anyone directly." Tom tilted his head slightly. "So... how about this? Have them clean every bathroom in Hogwarts."

Fontaine: "..."

But Dumbledore was already looking his way, and those three students had indeed embarrassed him. In the end, Fontaine swallowed it, waved a hand to lift Dumbledore’s binding spell, and stormed off with his students, visibly seething.

"Minerva, why don’t you take everyone to the hospital wing first," Dumbledore said considerately. "And have Poppy prescribe something for you as well."

Watching her leave, Tom cursed Dumbledore under his breath.

As Dumbledore chatted with the other headmasters and saw them off, Tom quietly raised his guard. The old man was getting craftier by the day. Same as ever, he’d trick you into helping him and still expect a thank-you afterward.

"Professor, I got the people for you. How are you planning to thank me?"

"I have two bottles of cognac from fifty years ago. You’re welcome to come by and try them when you have time."

Tom’s expression immediately went flat. "Professor, I’m still underage..."

"Headmaster, I helped too," Astoria suddenly spoke up, seeing Tom’s dissatisfaction. She gathered her courage and stepped forward. "What about my reward?"

In his impression, Astoria had always been well-regarded. The professors all liked the well-behaved, gentle girl.

Dumbledore’s smile froze.

With Tom, he could shamelessly dodge a little. After all, the boy had tricked him often enough. Turning the tables once in a while was only fair.

Watching the old man leave with a rare hint of awkwardness, Tom broke into a grin. He pulled the girl into his arms and kissed her as a reward.

Her cheeks flushed faintly. She said nothing, just smiled softly and leaned against him. She didn’t care about dragon blood at all. As long as Tom was happy, that was enough.

Meanwhile, in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was, as expected, furious.

McGonagall, now caught in the crossfire, deeply regretted coming at all. She quickly made up an excuse about having a class to teach and hurried out of the hospital wing like she was fleeing a battlefield.

But after such a major international incident, neither students nor professors were in the mood to teach or learn.

Some claimed Harry had been fighting an Ilvermorny student over a girlfriend.

With each retelling, the rumors grew more outrageous.

Taking advantage of the lunch break, Dumbledore gathered the four Heads of House in a small room behind the Great Hall to discuss how to handle the students involved.

But punishing them too harshly would hurt the children. After all, they had been defending their school’s honor.

.

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