𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚 𝕠𝕗 ' 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕖 ' HIATUS

lviii

". . . and then there was another flash of light and I landed on the bed again!" Ron grinned, helping himself to sausages. Hermione had not cracked a smile during this anecdote, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry. Eurielle's lips were set in a thin line and her eyes were on her plate, obviously in deep thought.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?" asked the brunette.

Harry and Ron shared an annoyed look, " Always jump to the worst conclusion do you?" said Harry, nudging his eggs with his fork. 

Eurielle scoffed, " Well considering you almost die every year it seems like the best option, hm?" 

" Look, using the book to get some help in potions is one thing, but performing a spell when you don't even know what the hell it does is downright stupid!" 

Hermione began nodding frantically and Ron shot the two a glare, " But nothing bad happened!" he argued, " It was all a good laugh!" 

The two girls rounded on the redhead, " And what if the spell sliced your torso wide open and you bled out? What if it made you vomit until you passed out?" Eurielle fired back with a hard look, " The point is if you're going to hang on to that book, Potter, have some bloody sense!" 

Hermione pursed her lips and sliced open a roll, " Thank you Eurielle,  besides that Prince character is rather dodgy," 

Ron rolled his eyes, " Okay I'll give you the 'we shouldn't be using spells if we don't know what they do' but honestly, how is he dodgy-,"

"Dangling people upside down by the ankle?" said Hermione. "Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?"

"Fred and George," said Ron, shrugging, "it's their kind of thing. And, er —"

"My dad," said Harry. He had only just remembered.

"What?" said the three together.

"My dad used this spell," said Harry. "I — Lupin told me."

"Maybe your dad did use it, Harry," said Hermione, "but he's  not the only one. We've seen a whole bunch of people use it, in case you've forgotten. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep, helpless."

Eurielle looked to Harry to see a look of disbelief on his face as he stared at Hermione. She knew what the brunette was referring to, the World Cup. 

"That was different," Ron said robustly. "They were abusing it. Harry and his dad were just having a laugh. You don't like the Prince, Hermione," he added, pointing a sausage at her sternly, "because he's better than you at Potions —"

"It's got nothing to do with that!" said Hermione, her cheeks reddening. "I just think it's very irresponsible to start performing spells when you don't even know what they're for, and stop talking about 'the Prince' as if it's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname, and it doesn't seem as though he was a very nice person to me!"

"I don't see where you get that from," said Harry heatedly. "If he'd been a budding Death Eater he wouldn't have been boasting about being 'half-blood,' would he?"

Eurielle groaned loudly, " Oh good Lord, will you all stuff it! Look I don't trust this bloke, but there's no harm in using his potion tips," she said in Hermione's direction. 

Her dark eyes widened, " "The Death Eaters can't all be pure-blood, there aren't enough pure-blood wizards left," said Hermione stubbornly. "I expect most of them are half-bloods pretending to be pure. It's only Muggle-borns they hate, they'd be quite happy to let you lot join up."