The atmosphere on the pitch shifted the moment Malfoy spoke.
"What's wrong? What is he doing here?" Ron asked, his voice tight.
"I'm the new Seeker for Slytherin, Weasley," Malfoy replied lightly, his tone edged with smug satisfaction. "Everyone was just admiring the brooms my father bought for the team."
Ron stared at the row of gleaming broomsticks. Seven Nimbus 2001s. Better than Harry's Nimbus 2000.
"Impressive, aren't they?" Malfoy went on, his voice almost pleasant. "Perhaps Gryffindor could scrape together enough gold for an upgrade too. You could sell those old haggard brooms. I'm sure a museum would be interested."
Laughter erupted from the Slytherin players.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione said sharply. "They got in on ability."
Malfoy's expression hardened.
"No one asked you, you filthy little Mudblood."
The word landed like a blow.
Flint lunged forward, positioning himself in front of Malfoy just as Fred and George surged toward him. Alicia's voice rang out in outrage. Ron had already drawn his wand, his face flushed with fury.
"You'll pay for that, Malfoy!"
He thrust his wand forward.
"Eat slugs!"
A sharp crack split the air. Green light burst from the wand and slammed into Ron's stomach, knocking him backward. He stumbled two steps and collapsed onto the grass.
"Ron!" Hermione cried.
Ron opened his mouth to answer, but only a violent burp came out. Thick, glistening slugs spilled into his lap.
The Gryffindor team crowded around him as he continued retching, no one quite daring to touch him. Across the pitch, the Slytherins doubled over with laughter. Flint leaned on his new broom, shaking with mirth. Malfoy was on all fours, pounding the ground with his fists.
Ginny felt something snap inside her.
The insult still echoed in her mind. Ron's helpless state made her anger burn hotter. Already unsettled, she found in the Slytherins an easy target for everything boiling inside her.
"Furnunculus!"
The hex shot from her wand, missing Malfoy and striking Flint instead.
Flint roared. His skin blistered and erupted with boils, red and swollen, as though his flesh were burning from within. He whirled toward Ginny, eyes blazing.
"You little brat—"
Fred and George grabbed for his wand. Wood and the others moved at once, and the pitch dissolved into chaos as Gryffindor and Slytherin players grappled with one another.
"Harry! Take Ginny and Ron away!"
Harry snapped out of his daze and hauled Ron upright. "Hagrid's. It's closest."
They forced their way through the crowd. Colin came running toward them, camera raised, oblivious to everything except the spectacle.
"Out of the way, Creevey!" Ginny snapped, pushing him aside.
Colin stared after them, stunned. Ginny Weasley had seemed so polite yesterday.
They reached Hagrid's hut just as Lockhart stepped outside. Harry ducked behind a tree at once. It was a wise decision. If Lockhart had attempted to treat Ron, the result would likely have been worse than the curse itself.
Once Lockhart disappeared down the path, they knocked.
Hagrid opened the door with a frown. "It's you. I thought Lockhart was back again. What happened to Ron?"
"His spell backfired."
Hagrid fetched a large brass basin and placed it in front of Ron. "Better out than in, Ron. Get it all out."
Hermione watched anxiously as Ron bent over the basin. "I don't think there's a way to stop it except waiting. Even under ideal conditions, that spell is hard to cast. And you used a broken wand…"
"Wait," Ginny said suddenly. "I might know how to stop it. The counter-curse for hexes… he taught me…"
She raised her wand.
The others exchanged uneasy glances. Being on the receiving end of a spell was never comfortable.
"Will this… work?" Ron gasped between retches.
"It's better than doing nothing." Ginny sounded sure of herself. The earlier curse had worked perfectly, after all.
Her wand flashed. Ron shuddered as the spell hit him. He was still vomiting, but the slugs stopped coming.
"It worked!" Hermione stared at Ginny, astonished. "How did you do that?"
"I… read it in a book."
"What book?" Hermione pressed at once. "I'll read it too. I can't believe I missed something like that."
"Maybe I remembered wrong," Ginny said quickly. "It wasn't a book. Maybe Bill taught me. Yes, Bill."
Hermione looked unconvinced, but Hagrid interrupted, asking them to explain what had happened. Harry and Hermione told the story from the beginning.
"Malfoy called Hermione something awful," Harry said. "Everyone went mad."
"Awful," Ron croaked, pale and sweating. "He called her a Mudblood."
Hagrid's face darkened. "Did he now?"
Hermione hesitated. "I don't know what it means. But I could tell it was rude."
"It's a slur for Muggle-born witches and wizards," Ron said. "Some pure-blood families think they're superior. The rest of us know it doesn't matter."
"That's right," Hagrid said warmly. "Half the spells they can't cast, Hermione casts better."
Hermione flushed.
"But Ginny was brave," Hagrid added.
Ginny looked down. "Too bad I missed Malfoy."
"It might've caused more trouble if you hadn't," Hagrid said quietly. "His father's a Hogwarts governor."
They stayed at the hut until Ron recovered enough to stand. Ginny's mood gradually lifted. Everything Mr. Riddle had taught her had proven useful. Even the prospect of punishment could not dim that feeling.
Back in the castle, Professor McGonagall was waiting.
"You're back, Potter, and the two Weasleys," she said coldly. "All three of you will have detention tonight."
Her gaze lingered on Ginny. "I never imagined a first-year student would dare cast a spell on a sixth-year. Your parents have been informed."
Ginny's face drained of color. The thought of a Howler arriving at breakfast made her stomach twist.
"You, Weasley, will polish the silver in the trophy room. No magic. Miss Ginny, since your spellwork is so impressive, you will report to Professor Flitwick. And you, Potter, will assist Professor Lockhart with his correspondence."
Harry felt his heart sink.
"Could I polish trophies instead?" he asked desperately.
McGonagall's eyebrow twitched.
"Of course not. Professor Lockhart specifically requested you. Eight o'clock. Do not be late."
Ginny hesitated. "Professor… what about the Slytherin students? Don't they get punished for insulting classmates?"
McGonagall regarded her steadily. "They will be punished. Professor Snape will deal with them."
She turned and walked away.
Ron stared after her. "Snape? That's basically letting them off."
Harry and Hermione silently agreed.
They were wrong.
By the evening, the truth had spread. Snape had witnessed the confrontation himself. Malfoy and the others had paid for it in a way no one on the pitch had expected.
At eight o'clock, Ginny arrived alone on the seventh floor. The office near the west tower was easy to find. She counted the windows, raised her hand, and knocked.
"Come in."
Professor Flitwick's voice was sharp but warm.
Ginny stepped inside. Flitwick greeted her with a bright smile. He was barely taller than she was, his features unusual but his expression gentle.
"Very punctual," he said.
"I'm sorry. Should I have come earlier?"
Flitwick chuckled softly. "Don't worry, my dear. I don't assign unpleasant chores. In fact, I'd rather talk about spells."
He flicked his wand. A drawer opened, and small cakes hopped onto the table.
"Have one."
Ginny relaxed. This was far better than polishing trophies.
"I heard you cast a rather impressive curse on a sixth-year," Flitwick said lightly. "I know the circumstances. Between us, he deserved it. Still, casting spells on classmates is not encouraged."
He looked at her with interest. "Since you managed such a difficult spell, I imagine first-year magic will not trouble you much."
Ginny demonstrated- Levitation. Softening. Locking. Severing, then repairing the tabletop. Flitwick watched in growing delight.
Halloween had not yet arrived. Most first-years were still struggling with theory. Ginny had already mastered nearly everything in her textbooks.
"Excellent," Flitwick said, almost bouncing on his toes. "You may surpass Miss Granger at this rate."
Ginny flushed. "I just have a good teacher."
Flitwick misunderstood the words in the most favorable way possible. In his good mood, he dismissed her detention entirely.
"You may go. If you have questions about spells or books, come to me. If you continue like this, I will invite you to the Charms Club by your fifth year. Earlier, if you wish."
Ginny thanked him and left the office.