The three girls exchanged glances. One of them wavered, her eyes flickering with doubt, but the other two quickly shut her down.
"Looks like you're not planning to come clean," Hermione sighed.
She'd given them a chance to own up, to confess and repent sincerely, which might've earned them a lighter punishment.
Originally, Hermione had only wanted to use the stolen shoes as a way to crack down on school bullies. But Luna's fierce attachment to those shoes had surprised her, earning the quirky Ravenclaw a bit of Hermione's respect.
In that stubborn determination, Hermione saw a bit of herself.
Of course, that was assuming Luna didn't start rambling about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.
"We didn't do anything. What's there to confess?" Audrina smirked, oozing confidence. She was sure Hermione was bluffing. Without proof, not even Hermione Granger—or Dudley Dursley, for that matter—could touch her.
And even if they did prove she was behind it, what could they do? Curse her?
"I'm not one of those thick-headed Gryffindors," Audrina thought, casting a subtle glance at her brother in the crowd—a sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect. "You wouldn't dare lay a hand on me. I'd have my family report you to the Ministry faster than you can say 'Expelliarmus.'"
With her brother nearby and the upper hand in both position and allies, Audrina felt untouchable. "Miss Granger, before you go throwing accusations, do you even have proof?"
"If it's proof you want, I'll give it to you," Hermione said, her tone sharp. She'd already decided to make an example of them.
"Playing mysterious, are we?" Audrina scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"I thought you'd at least wait a day or two, but you couldn't even hold out until the end of the day," Hermione said, unruffled by Audrina's attitude. "Maybe you didn't know…"
"The shoes you stole from Luna? I lent them to her. And those shoes were a gift from Dudley to me. They're enchanted with a jinx. Anyone who touches them without my permission faces some… serious consequences."
She wasn't wrong. Cursing a fellow student could land you in hot water, even if the professors let it slide. Parents could complain to the Ministry, and not everyone was like a Gryffindor, who'd rather settle scores themselves than run crying to their parents.
But if someone messed with your personal belongings and got jinxed for it? That was their fault. No one would bat an eye—not the Ministry, not even the Wizengamot. Wizards took their personal property seriously. A misspoken word in a spell could lead to irreversible consequences, even death.
Take Luna's mother, Pandora Lovegood, who died experimenting with a spell gone wrong.
Hermione's words left the three girls uneasy.
"Want to test it?" Hermione asked, taking a step forward.
The trio instinctively stepped back in unison.
"You're studying Dark Magic?" one of Audrina's friends blurted, thinking she'd caught Hermione out.
"Pathetic," Hermione said, her voice dripping with disdain as she fixed the girl with a mocking stare.
A jinx wasn't Dark Magic. Enchanting personal items for protection was perfectly normal—some Aurors, like the legendary Mad-Eye Moody, did it all the time. There was even an old wizarding saying: "Never touch a wizard's belongings unless you're ready to pay with your life."
"Oh, really? Let's see this jinx of yours," Audrina snapped, still defiant, though her bravado was starting to crack.
"Is that so?" Hermione's tone softened, almost as if she were discussing something trivial. "It's not a big deal, really."
"Have you noticed… a bit of redness or itching on your arms?"
The three girls instinctively tucked their arms into their sleeves. Now that Hermione mentioned it, they did feel a slight itch.
"It starts with your arms," Hermione continued, her voice eerily calm. "Then it creeps up to your neck, turning red. Slowly, it spreads to your face. Dozens of oozing, pus-filled pimples will cover your entire face. That's not even the worst part. You'll need to be very careful—move gently, delicately. Whatever you do, don't pop those pimples. If you do… your face might just explode."
Her tone was so chilling, it was like she was telling a ghost story. Not just the three girls, but the surrounding students shrank back, unnerved.
In truth, it was just a simple charm to cause pimples on the body and face—not even Dudley's doing.
Of course, "simple" was relative to someone like Hermione.
"Stop it! Stop!" one of the trio—the one who'd wavered earlier—crumbled under the pressure, collapsing to the ground, hands over her ears. "We… we were just playing a prank on her!"
She was terrified. No young witch could bear the thought of her face being ruined.
Her breakdown not only confirmed they'd stolen the shoes but also sent her other friend into a panic, collapsing beside her.
These were first-year witches, barely a month into Hogwarts. A few words were enough to break them.
"A prank?" Hermione said coldly. "It's only a prank if everyone's laughing. If it's just you lot, that's not a prank."
Could everything be brushed off as "just a joke"?
Some pranks went too far. And if someone didn't want to play along, forcing them wasn't a game—it was bullying.
"It was Audrina! She made us do it!" one of the girls shouted, pointing at Audrina.
Betraying a friend? Classic. Don't expect loyalty to hold up under pressure.
"You… you're all mad!" Audrina's face paled with fury. She couldn't believe her so-called friends had turned on her so quickly.
As the disciplinary trio closed in, Audrina felt a wave of helplessness.
Just then, a lanky figure stepped out from the crowd. "Alright, kids, that's enough drama. Everyone, back to class. That's an order from your prefect."
Audrina's expression brightened. She was saved. Her brother had stepped in.
Alex Shafiq.
Sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect.
"Let's wrap this up. Scatter," Alex said, addressing the onlookers.
His strategy was clear: clear the crowd, downplay the incident, and sweep it under the rug.
But that would undermine the disciplinary team's authority.
They couldn't let that happen.
Ron, who'd been quiet until now, finally saw his chance to speak. "Prefect Shafiq, quite the authority, aren't you?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, mimicking Malfoy's snide drawl.
He'd been dying to use that line.
It felt good.