A foul-smelling, unknown liquid exploded from the fake Remembrall, drenching Malfoy from head to toe. For a split second, everyone in the flying class seemed to lose their senses—the stench was so overpowering it blanked their minds, as if a dozen public toilets left unclean for weeks had suddenly materialized in the summer heat.
Malfoy, overwhelmed by the stink, rolled his eyes and toppled right off his broom. But not a single person made a move to catch him. The smell was so atrocious that even Crabbe and Goyle, his loyal shadows, pinched their noses and scrambled away from him as fast as they could.
Madam Hooch, ever the professional, managed to cover her mouth and nose with one hand while casting a silencing spell with the other, just enough to slow Malfoy's fall. Luckily, he hadn't been flying very high—he only broke his leg, and otherwise was unharmed. But in that moment, Malfoy probably wished he'd simply vanished. The stink that filled his nose was the stuff of nightmares.
"What is this stuff?!" he wailed, his voice muffled.
Up on the tower, Professor Sprout stood with her little badgers, a satisfied smile on her face. In her hands were two bottles: one filled with a thick, yellow liquid, the other, a delicate lavender.
She explained to the eager Hufflepuffs, "This one," she said, holding up the yellow, "is juice from the Giant Amorphophallus flower. Its stench is worse than a troll's. If you get it on you, the smell can last a week—no potion or spell will get rid of it."
She lifted the lavender bottle. "Except for this: wisteria juice. Just a little will neutralize the smell. But it's extremely rare. Only our Hufflepuff greenhouse produces a small amount, and I'm afraid"—she gave a dramatic sigh—"we're all out."
Char watched his aunt with a mix of awe and amusement. She was truly a master of subtle revenge. Malfoy had tried to harm him, and though he'd failed, poor Hannah had suffered. Professor Sprout clearly wasn't about to let that go.
The little badgers caught on quickly, nodding along. "Yes, yes, it's all gone. We saw it ourselves!" they chorused, barely able to contain their laughter.
Their respect for Herbology soared. Who needed powerful spells when you could outwit your enemies with magical plants? Some of the badgers piped up, asking Professor Sprout if there were other plants as "powerful" as the giant arum.
"Of course," she replied, delighted. "Devil's snare, biting kale… plenty of dangerous plants. I can give you private lessons if you want to learn more. But for now, the fun isn't over."
She leaned in, lowering her voice. "The juice of the giant arum has another effect—if it touches your skin, you'll break out in boils and scabies. And not even regular medicine can cure it."
Sure enough, as Malfoy lay on the ground, red lumps began to blossom wherever the juice had touched him. He howled in pain, unable even to speak as a scab formed on his tongue.
The commotion drew Snape, who swept onto the field like a furious bat. He took one look at Malfoy and his face turned thunderous. "Giant Amorphophallus juice? Malfoy, how did you get yourself into this?!"
Malfoy could only whimper. Snape turned to the Slytherins for an explanation, but quickly set his sights on Neville, his expression souring. "How dare you plot against your classmates in such a despicable way? Twenty points from Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindors erupted in protest. "Why? Malfoy stole Neville's Remembrall! He brought this on himself!"
Snape scowled, but before he could deduct more points, Professors Sprout and McGonagall arrived.
McGonagall, her lips pressed tight, confronted Snape. "So, Severus, Malfoy tries to steal Neville's Remembrall and you deduct points from Gryffindor? I don't think so. Gryffindor gets twenty points, and Slytherin loses twenty for Malfoy's behavior!"
Snape's jaw clenched. "Minerva! You can't see this was a setup for Malfoy!"
He glared at Professor Sprout. "Pomona, you're seeking revenge! Mirror grass, giant arum juice—Neville couldn't have gotten those himself."
Professor Sprout smiled sweetly. "Where's your evidence, Severus? Last time you told me we couldn't accuse a school governor's son without proof. So, can you convict me? Or Neville, the last of the Longbottoms? I don't think so."
She turned to the students. "I'm deducting twenty points from Slytherin, and giving Gryffindor ten more for the unfair treatment of Neville Longbottom!"
Snape's face was nearly purple, but he was outnumbered and outmaneuvered. He had no choice but to accept the loss.
Finally, he gritted out, "Fine. But the greenhouse will have to provide wisteria juice and snowweed for treatment."
Professor Sprout's eyes twinkled with mock sympathy. "Of course, Severus. We Hufflepuffs would never hold a grudge. If we had any extra, we'd give it to you. But, alas…" She spread her hands, feigning regret. "We're all out. Not a drop left."
The little badgers could barely contain their giggles. For once, justice—and a bit of clever Herbology—had prevailed.
_____________
"Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the chapter, please consider donating Power Stones and joining our patreon
[patreon.com /coolperry]
for early access to future chapters.(+30 chapters)