The Lost Prophecy | Year One

Myrddin Wynn Emrys

For the first time in over a decade, Filius Flitwick had to cancel his classes for the rest of the day. He was struggling to find a Counter-spell that would undo the effects of the Permanent Sticking Charm, despite knowing the fact that it was almost impossible to reverse the effects of the Charm. Flitwick had very briefly entertained the thought of seeking Dumbledore's help, but he wasn't too keen on admitting the fact that he could not undo the shenanigans of two silly third-years.

Flitwick was in his study with several books sprawled all over the floor. He was going through the list of all the spells he had made a note of all these years when he heard a knock on his door. He looked up from the book he was currently inspecting and opened the door with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Poor Poppy is quite overwhelmed. She had to ask Severus to brew a fresh batch of the Calming Draught," McGonagall said, as Flitwick made room for her to sit by shifting a pile of books to the desk from the chair.

"I don't believe he was very happy about that," Flitwick mumbled, "To be fair, I wouldn't be happy if more than half of my students were covered in paper too."

McGonagall sighed, "We need to hurry up, Filius. The poor kids are traumatized, and it's only a matter of time before the parents find out about this."

Flitwick looked up at her, "It won't come to that, Minerva. I'll make sure they're good as new before the end of the day," he assured her, pushing away all the thoughts in his head which kept telling him that was easier said than none.

McGonagall nodded, "Thank you, Filius. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm afraid not, Minerva. I just need some more time, and could you please keep an eye on Fred and George Weasley, we don't need more such accidents."

"They kept insisting it wasn't them, Filius," McGonagall began, "I have lost count of the number of detentions they had in these two years, and never once, did they lie to me. They've always been honest about the pranks they pulled, but today, they had the audacity to lie straight to my face," she stated, with disappointment lacing in her voice as she spoke.

Flitwick laughed, "You Gryffindors are very handful, aren't you?"

McGonagall shot him a pointed look, "That was not the point I was trying to make."

"Wasn't it? My mistake," Flitwick hummed, as he scanned the room for a book on Counter Curses and Jinx's. "Clearly, it is not your first time dealing with rouge pranksters, remember those two hooligans of yours?"

"Hooligans?" McGonagall asked, defensively. "I don't think so. Surely, they caused a lot of trouble, but they were never malicious," she added, smiling fondly at her old memory.

"I don't think those Weasleys meant to do any harm. The spells were cast in a hurry, you see, and in that process, the properties of the spells collided amongst themselves, and thus they got out of hand. Maybe, this one would help," he mused, as he went over to pick up a book on Accidental Magic.

"Minerva, are you listening?" he questioned, upon receiving no reply.

"Minerva?" he asked again, a little louder this time, making her snap out of her thoughts.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you were saying," she apologised, as she turned her attention back to him. 

"That's alright. I was saying, these spells were cast in a hurry, and –"

"I don't think Fred and George Weasley were behind this, Filius," McGonagall said, interrupting him. She had gone over the conversation she had with the twins several times in her head, so as to make sense of it, and every time, she couldn't help but think that she had missed something. And a sense of dread filled her at the realisation that she might have wrongfully punished them, and silently cursed herself for jumping to conclusions.