Chapter 7: The Exploding Cake and the Vanishing Wool part-2
"Wait, Mum," I said, stepping forward with authority. "Let me do it. I read about a specific counter-charm for grease-based stains in that book Hermione gave me. Standard Scourgify might felt the wool."
Molly hesitated. "Are you sure, Ron?"
"Trust me," I said, drawing my wand. "I have the Photographic Memory, remember?"
Hermione looked at me, desperate. "Just get it off, Ron! It is sticky!"
"Stand still," I commanded.
I pointed my wand at her chest. Harry was watching closely, likely relieved it wasn't him this time. The twins were leaning in with interest.
I formulated the spell in my mind. It was Scourgify, but I twisted the intent. I poured my magical power into dissolving the organic fibers of the wool, specifically targeting the area covered by the icing.
"Evanesco Vestis!" I incanted firmly. (Wait, that was Vanish Clothes. I needed to make it sound like a cleaning spell). "I mean... Tergeo Maxima!"
A jet of white light hit Hermione's chest.
The spell worked instantly. The orange icing vanished.
Unfortunately, so did the wool.
The spell ate through the sweater like acid through tissue paper. Because the icing had covered the entire front of her torso, the spell vanished the entire front panel of the sweater.
One moment, Hermione was wearing a thick, orange-covered fortress of wool. The next moment, the front of the sweater simply ceased to exist from her shoulders to her waist.
She was left standing at the dinner table, in front of Harry, my parents, the twins and Ginny, wearing nothing on her upper body but the back half of a sweater and a very sensible, white cotton bra.
(...cough...)
The silence in the kitchen was absolute. It was heavy, profound and deafening.
Arthur Weasley froze with a fork halfway to his mouth. Fred and George dropped their party hats. Molly gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
And Harry... poor Harry. He was sitting directly across from her. He was at the perfect eye level. He got the full, unobstructed view of Hermione's pale midriff, her collarbones and the undergarment that was struggling to maintain dignity in a room full of people.
"Ron!" Hermione looked down.
She saw her own stomach. She saw the white bra. She saw that her sweater was now essentially a cape.
Her scream shattered the windows.
"AAAAHHHHHHHH!"
She crossed her arms over her chest instantly, dropping to the floor to hide under the table.
"My eyes! My innocent eyes!" Fred shouted, covering his face but peeking through his fingers.
"Ron! What did you do?!" Molly screamed, rushing forward to drape a tablecloth over the space where Hermione had been.
"I... I must have miscalculated the thread count!" I stammered, feigning shock. "The spell was too powerful! It cleaned the wool right out of existence!"
"System Alert," the voice sang in my head, sweeter than any choir. "Incident recorded. Type: Public exposure via magical mishap. Witnesses: Multiple (Family and Harry Potter). Target: Hermione Granger. Rating: SS-class. Reward: Skill 'Silent Casting' and one hundred attribute points. Achievement Unlocked: 'The Family That Flashes Together'."
Under the table, I could hear Hermione sobbing with mortification.
"Harry!" Molly barked. "Don't just sit there gawping! Turn around!"
Harry spun around in his chair so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. His face was a deep, glowing crimson. He looked like he was about to hyperventilate.
"I didn't see anything!" Harry squeaked. "I swear! I was looking at the... the wall!"
"You were staring right at her!" George laughed. "I saw your eyes bug out of your head!"
"That is enough!" Arthur roared, though he looked quite flustered himself. "Molly, take Hermione upstairs. Boys, clean up this cake."
Molly ushered a tablecloth-wrapped Hermione out of the kitchen. As she passed me, Hermione shot me a look of pure betrayal, but mostly confusion. She didn't suspect malice, only incompetence.
(Perfect,) I thought. (She thinks I am an idiot who overpowered a spell. She does not realize I am a surgeon with a wand.)
I sat back down. The party was effectively ruined, but my mood had never been better.
"Well," I said, picking up a piece of the ruined cake from the table and eating it. "At least the icing is gone."
Harry put his head on the table and groaned. "I cannot face her. I can never face her again. I have seen... everything. Twice. In one day."
"Technically three times," I corrected helpfully. "If you count the morning incident."
"Ron, stop helping," Harry mumbled into the wood.
"You know," Fred whispered to George, leaning over the table. "That spell Ron used... that was actually quite impressive. Did you see how cleanly it cut the wool?"
"I was thinking the same thing," George muttered back. "We might need to borrow that spell for our new line of 'Disappearing Cloaks'."
I smiled. The seeds of chaos were spreading. And I had just unlocked Silent Casting. This meant I no longer needed to shout incantations to trigger accidents. I could do it with a mere wave of my hand.
The dinner continued in awkward silence, broken only by the sound of cutlery scraping plates and Harry occasionally making small, pained noises.
Tonight, I would distribute my new attribute points. I needed to increase my magical reserves. After all, tomorrow we were going to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies.
And Diagon Alley was a very, very crowded place.
The morning sun filtered through the crooked windows of the Burrow, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and casting a spotlight on the most socially awkward breakfast in the history of wizard kind.
It had been roughly twelve hours since the "Sweater Incident," as I had mentally cataloged it. The tension in the kitchen was thick enough to be cut with a dull knife, or perhaps dissolved with a Scourgify if one was feeling particularly reckless.
Hermione Granger sat at the far end of the table, dressed in what could only be described as a layered defense system. She wore a turtleneck, a denim jacket buttoned to the top and jeans.
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