//------------------------------//
// Explosions and Expulsions (OLD) 
// Story: Scoti 2: Muggles and Mudbloods 
// by SamuelK28 
//------------------------------//

The weekend passed all too quickly for each of the crusaders. Sweetie spent much of it in the infirmary and although annoyed by her rotten luck to begin with, managed to have a delightful Saturday afternoon with Madam Pomfrey’s new assistant, Kendra, who taught her all about human transfiguration. This she then immediately put into practice on poor Scootaloo when she came to visit, focusing on firstly changing the colour of her friend’s eyebrows and then replacing her left hand with a wolf’s paw. After a relaxing Saturday spent mostly with her girlfriend, Scootaloo spent Sunday either with her head stuck in her Divination textbooks or practicing a number of intriguing new jinxes and hexes including a spell that turned your target into a ferret and another that covered your target in a terrible rash. After spending Saturday in the greenhouses with Neville, Apple Bloom was gone all day Sunday with the only clue of her whereabouts being the somewhat disturbing cackles coming from the Potions lab in the dungeons. 

As Monday arrived, a sense of normality finally arrived with it. Scootaloo was up early soaring above the clouds, breakfast went by without a scolding from Professor Sprout and all the talk that went around the second-years' section of the table centred on what they’d be learning in Charms that morning and over the course of the next year. Overall, the mood was positive and jolly as the second-years left the Great Hall on their way to Classroom 2E where their Charms lessons would be taking place that year. There was one person though who was less than happy.

Professor Flitwick sat at his desk in Classroom 2E with his head in his hands wondering what he had done to deserve this. The first few lessons of a new school year were always the ones he feared the most due to the nature of what he was required by the curriculum to teach the second-years. There had only been one year so far in his time as Charms Master at Hogwarts that there hadn’t been at least one accident over the course of the second-years' first three weeks, from exploding wands to breakages to a student accidentally blowing another student's arm off, he’d experienced it all over the past twenty-five years. Yet, this year, considering just who he was teaching, he had pleaded with Albus to think twice about this part of the curriculum and that it might be wise to wait until the students were a little older and more mature. His argument had fallen upon deaf ears and Dumbledore had simply informed him that such techniques were "the next step" and "vital for a second-year’s progression". He had honestly thought about pulling a sick day, but he knew Dumbledore wouldn’t have bought that he had suddenly fallen ill just before the lesson he dreaded every year had come around, especially this particular year. He had also seriously considered quitting his job and being nowhere near the school by the time the lesson came around but had sadly come to realise that that would have been a stupid reaction and totally irresponsible of him. He also, most of the time, enjoyed his job. Now, all he was able to do was pray. Pray that the highly complex protection charms he had placed upon the classroom solely for this lesson were enough. Pray that something, anything, would happen to postpone this lesson or at least make it so that the girl with the extremely powerful wand was not present, even if he did have Miss Prewett in the staff sweepstakes. Of course, fate being the fickle mistress she was, the aforementioned girl ended up being the first student through the door and any remaining hope of a miracle he may have had disappeared with her entrance. Letting out a heavy sigh he opened The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2, and prepared for the inevitable destruction of Hogwarts before first break as he read the title of the first chapter to himself:


It Pays to Increase your Spell Power



*


“Okay class, settle down,” Flitwick called from the front of the classroom atop a stack of books. 

The second-years had, by now, all come to respect and admire the diminutive Charms professor due to his laid-back teaching style, cheerful demeanour and lenient punishments. As such, the chatter immediately stopped and they all looked attentively towards the front of the classroom where Professor Flitwick was preparing to address them.

“Thank you. Before we begin today’s lesson, I’d just like to give you a brief overview of what we will be studying in your second year. Over the course of this year, I will be attempting to teach you a wide array of spells that can not only be used in everyday life but also as a means to protect yourself if the need ever arises. Over the first term we will be looking at more defensive minded spells, the General Counter Spell, Disarming Charm, Knockdown Jinx, Slowing Charm, Freezing Charm and, for the more advanced, shield charms. In the second term our focus shall be on more offensive spells. These shall include revisiting the Fire Making and Dancing Feet spells from your first year along with the Tickling, Engorgement and Shrinking charms. We shall lastly look theoretically at Memory Charms and the dangers that can result from them if they are cast improperly before spending a month going over what you have learnt over the two years in preparation for your second-year exam.” Flitwick paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “To be able to cast all of these spells though we need to first look at techniques to enhance your wand power and this is what we shall be focusing on for the majority of this first month. To begin, I’d like you all to open your copies of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2, to chapter one and read through it with your neighbour. After doing so, I’d then like you to work together to practice and perfect the techniques described and shown. If you require any help, please put up your hand and I will only be too happy to come over and assist. Any questions?” 

Neville’s hand slowly rose into the air.

“Yes Mr Longbottom.”

“A-are you sure this is safe?”

“No, but according to Dumbledore it is essential for your development. This is my 25th year with the school and so far, only once have we gotten past these lessons without at least a minor accident. The worst accident we had was when one student blew her best friend's arm off and another who blew his own arm off. Last year’s accident involved the destruction of my desk and the setting of my beard on fire. That was part of the reason I got rid of it. Anyway, overall, I’d rate the risk of at least one accident at around 96% in a normal school year; this year I’d rate the chance of an apocalyptic disaster at 99.9%. But, you’ve all no need to worry as I’ve placed extra protection charms on the room solely for that reason. Now, unless there are any further questions, you may begin,” Flitwick said in an overly chipper voice.

The class simply stared back at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed in total shock at what he’d just told them.

“Excellent.” With that, he jumped of the tower of books and waddled back to his desk to do some marking.

Slowly the students came to their senses and began to tackle the work set for them, even if it would lead to an inevitable disaster.


*


Nearly an hour later, nothing of note had transpired. Filius knew though that for most of that time the students had been diligently reading their textbooks and preparing themselves. It was only now that they began practicing that the chaos would begin.

“Come on, you stupid hunk of junk,” he heard Apple Bloom grumble as he finished the last of his marking.

“Three,” Filius muttered to himself not bothering to look up.

“Seriously, why aren’t you glowing?”

“Two,” Filius muttered to himself again.

“Oh really, and how is that any different from what I’m doing? Fine, I’ll try it your way.” 

“One.”

The window behind him shattered and glass fell all around him. All those hours of placing protection charms had, as expected, been a complete waste of time. At least the protections had managed to stop the glass from falling outwards onto the training grounds.

“Oops,” Apple Bloom said guiltily.

Professor Flitwick looked up from his paperwork and sighed. “Miss Apple, please remember to remain calm and in control when attempting to build power in your wand to avoid accidental discharge.”

“Sorry professor,” Apple Bloom replied blushing in embarrassment as stifled giggles rang around the room. 

“Not to worry, it was an accident and an easily fixable one, too. Just please be more careful in future,” he said politely rising from his chair, deciding to inspect his students' work in an attempt to prevent any further accidents before he repaired the window.

“Yes sir,” Apple Bloom replied meekly returning to her practice as the giggles slowly died down and the students returned to their own work. 

If a broken window was the only thing he had to deal with after today, Filius would call that a win. Of course, the very first table he approached was that of Miss Prewett and Miss Granger.

“Hello girls, may I ask how you two are getting on?” Filius enquired. 

“Nailed it,” Scootaloo replied smugly showing off her wand and its glowing tip. 

“Of course, the draconequus with the extremely powerful wand and who didn’t even bother to read even half the chapter achieves perfection,” Hermione grumbled enviously next to her.

Professor Flitwick rubbed his temple. Usually, he’d be delighted for a student to be able to perform such techniques so quickly, but in this case, he was seriously worried. 

“Miss Prewett, although I am pleased with your rapid progression, I must strongly advise you not to cut corners and to go back to finishing your textbook to ensure you have performed the technique precisely as described. Even a miniscule mistake can have disastrous consequences in the long term. 

“Exactly what I told her, but she wouldn’t listen,” Hermione stated with a smug grin while sticking her tongue out at Scootaloo childishly.

Unfortunately for Flitwick he was unable to intervene in the inevitable squabble between the two soulmates as a massive explosion rocked the room. 

He turned to see almost every other student pointing at Miss Belle and Mr Finnigan. 

The boy was frozen like a statue, his face and clothes covered in soot and hair standing on end. His right hand was still outstretched, gripping his wand like his life depended on it although now it did seem to be missing a finger.

The girl on the other hand looked remarkably better but was staring distantly into space and looked like she too was in shock. 

“I just thought if I channelled the magic from my horn into our wands it might help,” Sweetie mumbled only just audible enough for Flitwick to hear. 

Turning his gaze, Flitwick followed a black scorch mark across the floor to a pile of ash that had been his desk and fifth-years’ homework until only a moment ago. The destruction didn’t stop there though, oh no, of course not. Looking up he saw that where once had been a broken window was now a gaping hole to the outside world, bright late summer sunshine streaming in. As if on cue a piece of masonry fell and bounced across the floor. He didn’t even get a chance to respond to the carnage before yet another cry echoed throughout the classroom.

“HELP!!!” Miss Abbot and Miss Jones screamed pinned up against one of the three remaining walls, the former attempting valiantly to fend off their desk with one of their chairs; the desk now sported eyes and extremely sharp teeth. 

“Sir, sir, we need some assistance,” Miss Bloom bellowed from somewhere else as smoke wafted across the Charm’s professor’s nose. 

Turning his head, he saw Neville cowering behind Apple Bloom as the girl pointlessly attempted to put out the flames that had begun to engulf their desk. 

“EXPECTO PATRONUM,” he suddenly heard Miss Prewett cast behind him. 

A giant spectral honey badger soared over his head roaring loudly and then, rather than dissipating, somehow managed to crash through one of the three remaining walls. 

Right now, that remote wizarding outpost in the Himalayas wasn’t looking so bad, Flitwick thought to himself as he turned to one of the two remaining walls. Thankfully, the bell upon it still remained.


*


One of the lesser-known Hogwarts traditions was the annual second-year sweepstakes among the staff. Simply put, at the start of every new year each staff member put four galleons into a jar and then picked a second-year student’s name from a hat. The first of the students that were picked to have an accident in Charms that year would see that professor win half the pot, with the other half going towards any repairs required on the castle. In spite of those choosing the Ravenclaw and Slytherin students having the clear advantage this year with their first lesson coming before the Gryffindors' and Hufflepuffs', it was no coincidence that over three quarters of the accidents over the past twenty-five years had resulted from students in the latter two houses. Thus, it had been no surprise to any of the staff when the second-year Ravenclaws and Slytherins first Charms lesson went by without incident. Likewise, it was of no surprise when the alarms started ringing all around Hogwarts during the second-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs first Charms lesson. In fact, considering the students who were in the class, a draconequus, two sentient ponies, the boy who lived, a Weasley and Seamus Finnigan to name just a few, many of the teachers had actually been more surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Now, half an hour after the alarm had been raised, the Hogwarts staff were all gathered in the remains of Classroom 2E listening to Professor Flitwick’s account of just what had transpired to cause such a disaster. The reactions to this were predictably varied.

Professors Discord and Kettleburn were barely keeping one another standing they were laughing so much, while Fluttershy was glowering at the two of them disapprovingly. Professor Sprout had buried her head in her hands in embarrassment. Headmaster Dumbledore looked like he almost always did, deep in thought. Filch looked like he wanted to string the culprits upside down by the ankles. Madam Pomfrey was too busy tending a burn on Flitwick’s arm to react while Professor McGonagall had a stern unreadable expression spread across her face. Most of the other staff were shaking their heads in disbelief, aside Snape who had a wicked sneer across his face and Trelawney who was staring out onto the training fields from the massive hole Sweetie had caused. 

The reason for Snape’s near smile was possibly due to the fact that for over ten years he had been forced into wasting his hard-earned galleons on this stupid tradition. Like every year, he’d been the very last teacher to be coaxed by Dumbledore to contribute and pick a student and, to his utmost surprise, this time it had been his protégé. When he’d heard it was Apple Bloom and not her disaster-prone friend that had caused the first accident, inside he had been ecstatic that he had finally won back the majority of all those galleons Dumbledore had forced him to waste over the years. As he had to accompany the third-years on Saturday for their first trip anyway, he might as well treat his protégé to a trip to Hogsmeade for a lesson on potions ingredients and an ice cream afterwards. While Snape continued to ponder over what he would be doing with all the galleons he had just won, Professor McGonagall spoke in a sceptical tone.

“Filius, are you sure you haven’t ingested some belladonna accidentally? I know she isn’t by any means a normal student, but being able to cast a Patronus at her age and one that can seemingly destroy physical objects…”

“And breathe fire,” Professor Trelawney added still staring out onto the training grounds through the massive hole behind the pile of ash what was once Professor Flitwick’s desk.

“And breathe… Wait, he never said that?” Professor McGonagall said turning to Professor Trelawney with a confused look on her face.

Sybil simply pointed out the massive hole. 

Every staff member aside Dumbledore came running over and most stared open-mouthed through the hole in the wall. A giant spectral honey badger spouting fire was flying over the training fields alongside the young draconequus to oohs and aahs from the students below.

“Hmm, a badger. Focused, determined, protective, fearless, stubborn and tenacious with a strong personality and never give up or back down attitude. Suits her perfectly, although the fire is a little unusual,” Dumbledore mused as he arrived at the hole in the wall. 

“WHAT IS IT WITH THAT GIRL AND FIRE!!!” Professor Sprout cried in exasperation.

“Welcome to my world,” Professor McGonagall deadpanned as Discord, who had still been laughing heartily at all the shenanigans with Professor Kettleburn strolled over to the Herbology professor and wrapped his arm around her.

“That’s chaos for you!” he exclaimed.

Professor Sprout rolled her eyes. They would be lucky to have a school left after the next six years the way things were going.


*


Due to their chaotic Charms lesson and the fact the teachers were otherwise preoccupied, third period History ended up being cancelled, meaning that the Crusaders ended up with four free periods before Sweetie and Apple Bloom had to depart for Astronomy and Scootaloo for her extra Herbology session with the Ravenclaws and Slytherins.

During this time, they were instructed to continue their Charms work outside and nowhere near the school or any buildings. Scootaloo had started by perfecting the techniques to increase her wand's power even further and continuing in her attempts to not only cast her patronus but to merge it with the fire-making spell as well for added protection. She’d had some exhilarating times since returning to her birth world but the near fifteen minutes spent flying with her giant fire-breathing ghost badger had been something else entirely and only topped by her first kiss with Hermione. That was until her magic started to falter and she’d barely managed to land safely, where she faced yet another lecture from Madam Pomfrey about the dangers of excessive magic use especially in one so young. Afterward, at Madam Pomfrey’s insistence, she had been taken back to her dorm for something to eat and then to go straight to sleep until her final lesson of the day.

Initially Scootaloo had grumbled and complained, only to realise as she went back to her dorm just how tired and achy her body actually was. She had barely been able to wolf down her early lunch before collapsing, still in her robes, upon her bed where she had slept soundly until Professor Sprout had come to collect her in the afternoon. Bleary eyed and yawning she had grabbed her things and then followed her head of house to Greenhouse Three, where, to her horror, she was partnered up with Draco and his two goons. The lesson had not gone well. 

Every time Professor Sprout turned her back the three goofed off and forced her to do all the work as they continued to tend to their mandrakes, replacing the soil they were in, checking they were growing correctly, feeding them, preening them and so on and so forth. The only saving grace was that she couldn’t hear any of their taunts due to her earmuffs otherwise she may well have thrown the mandrake into Draco’s face. By the end of the lesson Scootaloo was drenched in sweat and exhausted. All she really wanted to do was to go take a shower, have some dinner and then read a good book in bed while dozing off, but she had detention in the Potions lab to navigate first and if she didn’t hurry, she would be late and Snape would punish her further. Of course, it was as she rushed out of Greenhouse Three that that idiot Draco just couldn’t help but have a jibe at her.

“Hey freak, what’s the rush? Missing your girlfriend already?” he said before making smooching actions behind Scootaloo’s back, much to her ire. 

Taking a deep breath, Scootaloo ignored him and continued walking. “Don’t give him the pleasure, don’t give him…”

“You know, its rude not to answer someone when they ask you something. So, I’ll ask you once more. You missing your dirty mudblood dyke that much?” 

The chatter amongst the other students immediately stopped as Scootaloo slowly turned with a wild look in her eyes.

“What did you call her, you pile of scum,” she growled. 

You could hear every breath she took she was breathing that deeply, but even that wasn’t enough to stop her hair actually igniting. Her eyes likewise were fiery pits and furious would be an understatement to describe how she was feeling right then. 

“You heard me, freak,” Draco scoffed refusing to back down. 

“I tried uncle, I really did,” Scootaloo sighed with a shrug of her shoulders as she strolled over to Draco. 

Slowly she was regaining control of her own body and her hair and eyes were returning to normal. Still, Draco had never been so frightened in his entire life, but to his credit he refused to back down. 

As Scootaloo’s eyes locked onto the other boys she said coldly. “My uncle asked me politely to turn the other cheek, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. But if you ever insult…”

“Dirty mudblood dyke,” Draco repeated with a sneer.

“Chicken,” Scootaloo commanded before turning and storming away, her hair and eyes once again an inferno. 

She didn’t even stay and watch as Draco started clucking, flapping his arms like wings and attempting to peck the ground. Or that Professor Sprout was standing in the doorway of Greenhouse Three gobsmacked at what she had just overheard and at how calm Scoti had stayed in such a situation. She would have the brat expelled for this one. Mark her word; this time he’d gone too far. 


*


Professor Snape did not look happy when Scootaloo arrived three minutes late for her detention.

“Miss Prewett, how long might I ask you does it take to get from the greenhouses to here or need I remind you your detention starts at 16:15 on the dot, not 16:18. That shall be ten points from Hufflepuff and an extra thirty minutes added to your detention,” Snape drawled angrily not even allowing Scootaloo the chance to explain before instructing, “Drop your bags over there and then come to the front of the class.”

Scootaloo glumly did as she was told, not wanting to infuriate the Potions Professor further. 

I would have liked for you to have tested the Veritarserum Miss Apple here made over the summer holidays, but sadly Dumbledore has refused to grant me special permission to do so. Instead, you shall assist Miss Apple as she attempts to brew another hair potion, which you will then test. I am hoping that you have already read up on the Manegro Potion?” Snape asked emotionlessly.

Because of Hermione, Scootaloo had, and she was most certainly not looking forward to trying it. “A potion that causes rapid hair growth, sir,” she replied sincerely. 

“Correct. Congratulations, you’ve earnt back two of the houses points you just lost,” Snape stated in an equally emotionless and unimpressed voice. “Maybe if you work hard, you can earn back the rest. Miss Apple, you know where to find me if you need me.”

And with that he disappeared into his office. 

“So, what kept you?” Apple Bloom enquired as she set up her cauldron and put on a pair of gloves.

“Draco Malfoy,” Scootaloo sighed knowing it would be futile to even make an attempt at lying to Apple Bloom.

“Oh no, I’d hoped that slimebucket might have grown up a bit over the summer,” Apple Bloom sighed as she set the ingredients out in order and began reading the instructions in Moste Potente Potions. “So, what did that idiot do this time? And you’ll need this.” She passed a single glove to Scootaloo. “Some of the ingredients for this one can be extremely toxic on their own. Wouldn’t want you having yet another visit to the infirmary and losing your other hand, would we?”

“Thanks,” Scootaloo responded pulling the glove onto her left hand. “And you might want to stop what you’re doing for a moment.”

“That bad?” Apple Bloom queried unsure she wanted to hear the answer as she paused in her preparations.

Scootaloo simply nodded her head solemnly in reply. “Called Hermione a dirty mudblood dyke to my face twice,” she said so quietly Apple Bloom barely heard her.

She had been right. Apple Bloom completely froze in shock and disbelief that Draco Malfoy could be so cruel.  “Tell me he didn’t, please tell me he didn’t.”

Scootaloo simply looked at the floor. 

“Stuff Snape, just wait until I get my hands on him, I’ll, I’ll,” the phial in Apple Bloom’s hand shattered. Thankfully the gloves she had on protected her from any harm the glass may have caused.

“Don’t, please. I wouldn’t want you getting expelled because of me. You’re already walking on a tightrope after the Venomous Tentacula incident,” Scootaloo pleaded as Apple Bloom disposed of the shattered phial. 

“Well, you should at least tell Professor Sprout. He can’t keep bullying you and Harry like he has.”

“And what could she do? It would be my word against his and all the slimebuckets that adore him and witnessed the incident would quickly claim I was simply being spiteful and spouting lies because of our family history. Plus, I may have hypnotised him into thinking he was a chicken before I stormed off,” Scootaloo admitted guiltily.

“You didn’t?” Apple Bloom replied with a snort as she tried valiantly to withhold the laughter bubbling up inside her. She wasn’t doing a very good job at it. 

“Maybe,” Scootaloo tittered guiltily in reply. “I didn’t actually wait to see if it had been successful or not, although I did here the clucking in the background as I walked off,” the girl added with a devilish grin across her face.

Apple Bloom closed her eyes and tried desperately not to break out into laughter at the image of Draco Malfoy acting like a chicken that was lodged in her brain. Slowly, with a few deep, calming breaths she re-took control of her body. “Okay, now that that’s out of my head, it’s time for us to focus on brewing this potion before Snape reappears and tells me off for wasting time. As you well know, he does not take kindly to slacking off.”

“Of course, and thanks for cheering me up Bloom.”

“Anytime. Now, pass me the viper venom.”


*


It was half an hour later just as they’d finished the first section of the potion and were settling down to do some more theoretical work surrounding hair potions whilst it boiled when the door to Snape’s office slammed open.

“Miss Prewett, with me,” Snape growled as he marched towards the entrance to the classroom. “Bring your possessions.”

The two girls looked confused at one another for a moment before Scootaloo rose and did as she was told.

“I guess I’ll see you at dinner, I hope,” Scootaloo gulped nervously. 

“Yeah, I’ve rarely seen him look so angry. All the best and thanks for the help,” Apple Bloom replied with an attempt at a reassuring smile.

It did very little to help boost Scootaloo’s confidence as she followed Snape out of the Potions lab and away from the dungeons, especially as he didn’t say a word to her about just where they were going. Up numerous flights of stairs they went and along more corridors than Scootaloo could count until they reached an extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

‘Sherbert lemon,” Snape growled angrily once more. 

Scootaloo had heard about the gargoyle many times from Sweetie but was still taken by surprise as it moved to one side and the wall behind it split in two. She knew immediately where the spiral staircase behind it led and gulped in fear. She was in serious trouble this time; of that she was certain.


*


As the gleaming oak door opened, Scootaloo wasn’t at all surprised to see Draco Malfoy and his father, Lucius, along with Professor Sprout, Discord and Headmaster Dumbledore. She was though surprised to see the inclusion of her girlfriend and Professor Pompernickle. The former was glaring angrily at Draco. The five adults themselves were involved in a heated debate and barely registered the new arrivals.

“EXPULSION!” Lucius roared, “For having the nerve to stand up and say the truth. And that’s if he even did say what you are accusing him of saying. Have you gone mad Albus? And what will the girl get for hypnotising my son, just a slap on the wrist I bet?” 

“Lucius, the new rule was clearly explained at the start of term. Such language and derogatory terms will no longer be tolerated under any circumstances. We also have twelve eyewitness accounts of other students who all heard what your son said on two occasions along with the testimony of our Herbology Professor. I’m afraid it is out of my hands,” Dumbledore explained calmly. 

“The girl’s head of house. Of course, she’s going to be biased. This is a conspiracy I tell you. You’ve wanted my family out of this school ever since you found out about my past dealings with the Prewett family, of which, I would like to make absolutely clear, I was absolved of all responsibility for being under the Imperius Curse at the time,” Lucius snapped back.

“Excuse me, just what are you implying?” Professor Sprout growled. “I have been a valued member of the Hogwarts staff for over twenty-years and I can tell you that in all that time I’ve never heard such disgraceful language, although I’m not at all surprised. The old Muggle saying does say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Lucius snarled squaring up to the Herbology Professor.

“Like father, like son,” Professor Sprout spat in reply as Professor Pompernickle desperately attempted to get between and separate the two of them before the argument could escalate further.  

Lucius clenched his fist.

Snape coughed and everyone’s attention suddenly turned towards the new additions to the room. 

“Perhaps we should hear what the girl has to say before jumping to any conclusions?” he suggested in his usual monotonous drone pushing Scootaloo forward. 

“Excellent idea Severus. Miss Prewett, as you have probably just overheard, I’ve requested your presence here today due to an incident that occurred as you left the greenhouses this afternoon. Could you please state, in your own words, precisely what happened, please?” Dumbledore interjected attempting to wrestle back control of the situation. 

“Yes, sir, of course sir,” Scootaloo said a little apprehensively as Draco scowled at her. “It was just as I was leaving the greenhouses. I was in a hurry to get to my detention as we’d finished and packed up a little late. That was when Draco first got my attention by calling me a freak and asking if I was in a rush to see my girlfriend before mocking our relationship.”

“And how did that make you feel?” Professor Pompernickle interrupted.

“A little angry and upset, but I promised my uncle to try and steer clear of trouble this year as best as I can so I tried to ignore him,” Scootaloo replied.

“And how did Draco take that?” Professor Pompernickle asked in a soft, kind tone.

“He said it was rude not to answer someone and repeated the question. Only this time he phrased the question as You missing your dirty mudblood dyke that much?” Scootaloo finished with a sigh, really wishing she didn’t have to go through the whole experience again. 

“And how did that make you feel?” Professor Pompernickle pressed.

“My hair literally became fire; I was that angry. Insulting me is one thing but someone I love dearly and hold so close to my heart, that’s something I just cannot ignore,” Scootaloo explained. 

“So, what did you do?” Professor Pompernickle coaxed.

“Well, I wanted to beat the living daylights out of him and leave him hanging atop the Astronomy tower, but again, I made a promise to my uncle and so instead I tried to solve the issue diplomatically. I won’t lie that considering how aggrieved I was feeling I may have called Draco scum whilst trying to clarify that he really did mean what he had said. I was hoping, especially considering the reaction of our peers, he would realise the gravity of what he’d just said,” Scootaloo went on.

“And did he?” Professor Pompernickle guided.

“No. He replied, you heard me, freak, at which point I confronted him and told him that on behalf of my uncle I would turn the other cheek and pretend I didn’t hear what he said. I then tried to inform him that I would not be so lenient in future when he interrupted me and once more used the phrase dirty mudblood dyke, at which point I attempted to hypnotise him before departing before I did anything worse,” Scootaloo concluded.

Both the Malfoys were now scowling disdainfully at Scootaloo.

“Thank you my dear. Your story collaborates with the twelve Ravenclaw witness statements we have gathered,” Professor Pompernickle said sincerely before turning his attention to Dumbledore. “Headmaster Dumbledore, I implore you now to do your duty and expel Draco Malfoy. He has clearly shown that he is unwilling to change his prejudicial views, from playing truant from my class Friday morning to this frankly disgraceful verbal assault. Hogwarts and the Ministry are moving on with the times and are determined to integrate those from all areas of life into the wizarding community after the divisive nature of the wizarding war, while cutting ties with those who flatly refuse to.”

“What a complete load of trash,” Lucius snarled. “The girl more than likely antagonised him and in the heat of the moment, he just repeated some words he had heard without knowing exactly what they meant. This whole debacle is a complete waste of my time and a slap on the wrist is all he needs.”

“Well, maybe if he hadn’t played truant from class, or come and found me, he could have asked just what the words meant and learnt how insensitive they are. That is a poor excuse at best,” Professor Pompernickle retorted. “An example must be made.”

“An example of what? Dividing the wizarding community further? I won’t let you take my son’s wand and with my contacts and influence as a Ministry official, I could quite easily set up my own school. Hogwarts already runs on a tight budget. Just how long do you think it could sustain itself if a hundred or so students’ defect?” Lucius threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Boris growled in retaliation.

“Try me, you pompous old fool,” Lucius said rudely while glowering at the older gentleman.

“ENOUGH,” Dumbledore bellowed trying to regain control of the situation once more. “Miss Prewett, how do you wish for me to proceed? Unless you instruct me otherwise, I am obliged by Ministry legislation to expel Master Malfoy. I do fear that that by doing so though he will not learn from the mistakes he has made. Would you be satisfied if I was to instead issue an alternate form of punishment, such as to deduct fifty house points from Slytherin, a verbal and written apology to you and Miss Granger, and detention with Professor Pompernickle for the entire year?”

Scootaloo sighed as the attention of everybody else in the room fell upon her once more. No matter how much she despised the boy and would love to be rid of him, even she felt expulsion was a bit harsh. “Fine,” she eventually said reluctantly. “But I want assurances nothing like this will happen again and that he’ll be taught to properly respect other people’s sexual orientation otherwise next time I will leave him dangling by his robes from the Astronomy tower.”

“Of course, and you have my word that if he were to repeat any of his actions he would be expelled without argument,” Dumbledore replied as he turned to Lucius. “Well Lucius, what shall it be?” 

Lucius’s eye twitched but after a moment he pushed Draco forward. “Say you are sorry to the two girls Draco and then go straight to your common room and put that in writing, no buts,” he said sternly.

Draco momentarily looked towards his father in astonishment at how he had just bent over and accepted the punishment without any argument whatsoever. Upon seeing the stern look upon his father’s face though he wisely chose not to argue and instead turned and faced Scootaloo.

“I’m sorry for saying the things I did. They were wrong, insensitive and unkind,” he grumbled unhappily.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry for hypnotising you,” Scootaloo replied sincerely as Draco turned and addressed Hermione.

“And I’m sorry for referring to you in such a way. That was wrong of me.”

“Apology accepted,” Hermione replied looking at Draco the way a mother looks at their child when they’ve misbehaved.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore replied. “Now that that’s settled…”

“No,” Scootaloo interrupted to the surprise of the whole room.

Slowly and deliberately, she walked over to Draco her eyes misting over. Reaching out she placed a hand on his shoulder.

In a voice not her own she spoke. “Take heed young man, you are treading a dangerous path. Learn from this experience, become your own man and create your own path. For if you continue on the road you are on and follow in the footsteps of your ancestors, only death and despair await you.”

And with that she suddenly became very dizzy and collapsed into the waiting arms of Professor Sprout.

“Crap, I hate it when that happens,” Scootaloo moaned before proceeding to vomit all over the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Lucius Malfoy exclaimed in utter astonishment.

“Scoti is a seer and a very good one at that. You should feel blessed Lucius, it seems she just had a prophecy surrounding your son,” Dumbledore explained wisely. 

“Nonsense and hooey. She was just trying to frighten my boy and has done a damn good job of doing so as well. Just look at the poor lad, scared half to death by her gibberish,” Lucius said angrily.

Draco was standing stock still, white as a sheet. He would never forget the look in Scoti’s eyes or the words she said to him that day for the rest of his life.