American Royalty III

Part 14: Seamus

The Transfiguration classroom was unusually quiet, the scratching of quills and the soft rustle of parchment the only sounds breaking the stillness. Professor McGonagall stood at the front, her sharp gaze sweeping the rows of students as they worked on their assignments. The air felt heavy, as though the castle itself held its breath. Outside, the muffled sounds of footsteps and distant laughter from passing students in the corridor felt like a world away.

The door creaked open abruptly, the noise cutting through the uneasy silence like a knife. Heads turned sharply, quills pausing mid-sentence, as Seamus Finnigan stumbled in. He clutched the doorframe for support, his face pale and sweat-slicked. Blood soaked the leg of his torn trousers, staining the floor in uneven drops. Gasps rippled through the room, and even McGonagall faltered, her brows knitting in alarm.

"Bloody hell, Finnigan!" Dean Thomas blurted, half-rising from his seat. Lavender Brown let out a small, horrified squeak, her hand flying to her mouth.

Will was already on his feet, moving quickly to Seamus's side. His expression darkened as he took in the injury. From the back of the room, Leo Valdez shoved aside his textbook and hurried toward the door, shutting it firmly with a sharp click. His usual carefree demeanor was gone, replaced by grim determination.

"Mr. Finnigan," McGonagall said, striding toward him with her characteristic authority. Yet there was an uncharacteristic softness in her voice as she asked, "What has happened?"

Seamus swayed on his feet, one hand clutching the nearest desk for balance. "It—it was Carrow," he stammered, his voice hoarse. "Alecto. She kept me after Muggle Studies... said I didn't do my homework. I told her—I told her I'd had detention the night before. But she didn't care." His voice cracked, and he gestured vaguely at his leg. "She cursed me. For homework!"

The words hung in the air, surreal and heavy. No one moved. No one spoke. Even McGonagall seemed momentarily frozen, her usual composure faltering under the weight of the revelation. Then, her expression hardened.

"Sit down, Mr. Finnigan," she said briskly, flicking her wand to conjure a chair beside him. "Will, tend to him. Miss Patil, go fetch Madam Pomfrey immediately."

Parvati bolted from her seat, her braid swinging behind her as she darted out the door without a word. Will knelt beside Seamus, his hands already glowing faintly with healing magic. His lips pressed into a tight line as he muttered, "This is bad. He needs the Hospital Wing, but I can slow the bleeding."

Seamus winced, gripping the edge of the desk. "Didn't think I'd make it there," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "Figured... you needed to know."

McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze softening as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You were right to come here," she said quietly, though her tone carried an unspoken weight.

From his spot by the door, Leo muttered, "That bloody Carrow hag has gone too far this time." His voice, usually tinged with humor, now carried a quiet, simmering anger. "How the hell is she still walking around?"

"Language, Mr. Valdez," McGonagall snapped, though her reprimand lacked its usual edge.

Leo crossed his arms, unrepentant. "We're just supposed to sit back and let her get away with this? For Merlin's sake, Professor, she cursed him for homework!"

"She's a Death Eater," Seamus muttered bitterly, his breath hitching in pain. "And Snape's protecting her. Nothing anyone can do."

"Like hell there isn't," Leo said sharply, his fists clenched. "If the teachers won't stop her, then maybe we—"

"Enough!" McGonagall's voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a whip. Her glare silenced even Leo, though his defiant stance didn't waver. "You will not take matters into your own hands. Do you understand me?"

There was a beat of silence before Leo gave a stiff nod. His jaw remained tight, his eyes dark with frustration.

Will, still focused on Seamus's injury, muttered, "This isn't right. If she can get away with this, what's stopping her from doing worse next time?"

Before McGonagall could respond, the door burst open again, and Madam Pomfrey swept in, her wand already out. She took one look at Seamus and sighed heavily. "Another one," she muttered under her breath, kneeling beside him. "What did they do this time?"

"Alecto Carrow," McGonagall said simply, her voice taut with barely restrained anger.

Pomfrey's lips thinned as she muttered a series of healing spells, her movements brisk and efficient. When she was finished, she stood, her expression grave. "He needs to be moved to the Hospital Wing. The wound is cursed—I'll need to counter it properly there."

McGonagall nodded, her face a mask of calm. "Take him, then. I'll handle matters here."

As Pomfrey helped Seamus to his feet, he glanced back at the class, his pale face set in a grimace. "They're not gonna stop," he said quietly. "Not unless someone makes them."

The words hung in the air long after he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. McGonagall turned back to the class, her gaze stern and weary. "Back to your work," she said curtly. "And let me make one thing perfectly clear: you will not discuss what happened here. Do I make myself understood?"

The students nodded, their quills hesitantly resuming their scratchy progress across the parchment. But the unspoken question lingered like a storm cloud in the room (Maybe that was just Thalia): How long until things got worse?