. And if they went down, Margaret was going down with them without hesitation.

"Miss Xenakis," Dolores Umbridge says, surprised. "What might you be doing here? When I saw you leave with them?"

"Miss Xenakis was here because I called her to know how she has been finding Hogwarts so far," Dumbledore answers simply. "It is my responsibility as a Headmaster."

"Right," says Umbridge, smiling in a sceptical manner.

Dumbledore glanced at Fred and George to Professor McGonagall. "I take it, some mischief has been caused?"

"Oh, more than some mischief was caused," says Umbridge before Professor McGonagall could speak. "These two students, along with their friend Mister Lee Jordan, wreaked absolute havoc in Zonko's Joke Shop and caused three innocent students to end up with grave injuries."

Zonko speaks up politely, "Now, Professor, it was not that-"

Umbridge held up a hand. "Mr Zonko, it is very kind of you to defend these two students; although they are very well known for their notorious ways. And wrongdoers must be taught a tougher lesson than simple detentions."

"What do you suggest we do then?" Professor McGonagall asks, tone laced with incredulity. "Expel them?"

"That is exactly what I am suggesting, Minerva," Professor Umbridge responds sweetly.

Fred and George's faces were beginning to turn red in anger. Margaret never believed in the phrase glaring daggers until that moment when she saw them glaring at Umbridge with so much hatred, she was surprised the woman herself couldn't physically feel it.

"Expel them?!" Zonko questions in disbelief, turning to Dumbledore. "No, I do not wish to have them expelled at all! They are incredible young men with bright futures, Dumbledore; the damage to my shop is not as severe as it looks, nothing I can't fix with a few spells-!"

"Mr Zonko, again, it is very kind of you to try to defend these troublemakers," Professor Umbridge says sweetly. "However, it is not only a matter of the damage to your shop but also, much more importantly, a matter of the values and the prestigious reputation of Hogwarts School."

Headmaster Dumbledore listened to the argument in front of him patiently, not interrupting; which only put Margaret more on the edge. He did say that keeping Umbridge from expelling a student was no longer in his control. What were they going to do? Fred and George cannot be expelled, they were needed here!

Professor Umbridge turned to Dumbledore with a wicked glint in her eyes, continuing, "According to Educational Decree Number Thirty-One, the High Inquisitor has the right to expel a misbehaving student or students, bypassing the Headmaster's-"

"I know; I have read it," says Dumbledore, cutting her off. "Then why, must I ask, have you come to me?"

The woman blinked, taken aback. Then, letting out a tiny giggle, she looked at Dumbledore with the irksome patience of someone teaching a toddler that one plus one equals two, she says, "I have come here to inform you that I am expelling Mister Weasley, Mister Weasley and Mister Jordan."

Fred, George and Professor McGonagall spoke up at once:

"THAT'S UNFAIR! YOU WON'T EXPEL MALFOY-!"

"It is their NEWTs' year, Dolores, have some consideration-!"

"I- I think this is going too far, Professor, you mustn't expel them," Zonko adds, looking quite out of place yet worried for the twins.

Margaret continued to panic silently.

"Enough!" Professor Umbridge shouts, her voice high-pitched. "Mr Zonko, why don't you wait outside?" she says with a smile.

Zonko did not listen to her, much to her chagrin, and turned to Dumbledore instead.

"Thank you for coming, Zonko," says the Headmaster kindly. "On behalf of all the students involved, I apologise for the damage caused to your shop. I will have someone come over to help with the repairs."

"Not to worry, Dumbledore. Nothing I can't fix," says the elderly owner with a Fred-and-George-like mischievous glint in his eye. Zonko made his way out of the door, pausing in his steps only to give the two a small smile.

"Good... Now, for the matter at hand," says Umbridge to herself, looking positively delighted as she tossed the scroll in her hand into the air. It unfolds and she begins to read, "As stated under the Ministry approved Educational Decree Number Thirty-One, Dolores Umbridge, the Hogwarts High Inquisitor - that is to say I - can expel a student given the right proof and witnesses. Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle have volunteered to be witnesses, and the proof is of the destruction of Zonko's Joke Shop. May I borrow a quill?"

Margaret was now very alarmed. Fred and George cannot be expelled! They were yet to give Umbridge hell! Oh, heck no. This shouldn't be happening. This should not be happening!

Dumbledore, who had been observing Margaret the whole time Umbridge was reading, looked to Umbridge when she spoke and casually gestured to the quill and inkpot on his desk.

Professor Umbridge took out her wand, levitating the quill over to the scroll whilst Professor McGonagall looked startled at the rapid happenings.

Fred and George exchanged an uncharacteristically anxious but decisive glance. They won't be expelled. If toad-face tried to do so, they would walk out Hogwarts on their own terms, wreaking even more havoc if need be. Before they could do anything rash, however, McGonagall spoke up.

"Dolores," says Professor McGonagall strictly, taking the matters into her own hands, "I won't have you expel my students. You must reconsider this. If this goes on, there will be a backlash from the parents - you will be tarnishing the image of Hogwarts rather than preserving it!"

"Are you telling me how to do my job, Minerva?"

"No; merely saying that there are better ways to handle cases of duelling."

"If you must be reminded, duelling falls under my faculty, and it has not been taught in class," says Umbridge, turning to face McGonagall with barely concealed contempt. "I wonder then, where these troublemakers learnt it this year...?"

"Honestly, they are seventh-year students!" says McGonagall, incredulous and exasperated. "They have had competent teachers so far! And what, may I ask, are we going to reason to their parents?"

"I shall write to their parents myself, Minerva. These two and their friend Jordan will be on their way back home tonight," Professor Umbridge informs with finality, turning back to the scroll in front of her. "Moreover, a hundred and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor for such irresponsible behaviour."

Margaret looked to Dumbledore, immediately catching his eyes. She had an idea, that much the Headmaster knew. She looked calmer and more determined than a few moments ago. He nodded discreetly giving her the permission to do what she wanted to, curious to see what she had in her clever mind.

The quill was now nearly touching the scroll, ready to sign it on Umbridge's command. If it was signed, Fred and George's fate would be sealed no matter what Margaret did. Professor Umbridge lifted her wand.

"Wait!"

All pairs of eyes turned to Margaret; even those in the portraits. Taking the single second, she flexed her fingers, shimmering crimson thread shooting from her fingertips and wrapping around Umbridge's head.

"Yes, Miss Xenakis?" she asks impatiently.

Margaret's unblinking eyes glowed red. She smiled sweetly. "Oh, Professor, I am wondering why you are putting yourself through so much extra paperwork that comes with expelling not one, but three students!"

Umbridge narrowed her eyes at the girl. Something was not right. Her expression of false sweetness vanished and she reached up to scratch her ear.

Noticing this, Margaret tightened her hold on her mind, feeling beads of sweat trail down the back of her neck.

"Surely, you would want to rest after spending long days perfecting the broken ways that Hogwarts has been run with for so long..." she says sympathetically.

Professor McGonagall looked flabbergasted at the insulting words spoken in front of Headmaster Dumbledore himself; she opened her mouth to object the girl before noticing Dumbledore shake his head at her with a pointed look at Umbridge.

Umbridge did not notice it; but if they looked closely, everyone else could see a red halo floating around her head. It faded in and out under the light, weightless and powerful.

"All I mean to say is that there are surely better, less tiresome ways to deal with misbehaving students," Margaret says softly, sweetly, convincingly. She stepped down the two stairs, getting closer to Umbridge, whose eyes followed her moves warily. "You don't have to put so much effort into simple cases... You are needed with other, more important things like maintaining general discipline... Things that, most unfortunately, no one else in this school can handle better than you do..."

Finally, crimson swirled between Umbridge's dark eyes. Her brows furrowed thoughtfully and her wand hand lowered to her side. Her shoulders began relaxing and she nodded slowly.

Margaret was now right next to her, a whole head taller than the woman. She clasped her hands behind her back, leaning towards her to keep talking gently.

"You don't have to carry all this burden of Hogwarts all alone... You know the teachers have no option but to corporate with you. You could give the three of them detentions... with... Professor McGonagall, for a week," she adds as an afterthought. Umbridge's brows drew closer. She did not agree. "For a month- Until the end of the term then."

Margaret's hold around her mind was now so strong that Umbridge no longer showed any signs of resignation. A serene smile lifted onto her face.

"Now, why don't you go enjoy the rest of the weekend," Margaret says brightly, before descending back into manipulative sympathy, "you sure deserve it after working so hard for Minister Fudge..."

Professor Umbridge did not need to be told twice. Fudge's name caused her to instantly give in. She put her wand away, and the scroll and the quill clatter to the ground. Unaware of this, she turned around, smiling in quite a childlike manner.

"Have a good day, Minerva," she says pleasantly to Professor McGonagall as she passes her the wands she had confiscated from Fred and George.

Margaret let a small smile of satisfaction grace her face, flexing her hand again and withdrawing her powers without looking back as Umbridge slipped out of the door.

Closing her burning eyes after over a minute full of not blinking, she exhaled in relief. No one was expelled. The future was still on the right track... For the most part, at least.

"Miss Xenakis..." Professor McGonagall trails off; sounding surprised and perplexed, but most of all, wary. She glanced from the girl to Dumbledore, recognising the grim knowing look on his aged face. "What was that all about...?"

Margaret opened her eyes again, picking up on the suspicious tone. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Sorry about that, Professor... I, erm, I didn't know what else would work," she mumbles to the ground.

"It was an excellent work of Legillimency," Dumbledore speaks up finally, drawing their attention as he looks curiously at Margaret. "I have not seen someone spark ideas in one's mind in a very long time."

Margaret shifted on her feet uncomfortably, shaking her head. "I- I don't know how I do it..."

Now that was a pathological lie. However, she would rather not go into the details of why, out of all her powers, she mastered the art of mind manipulation so well and how many people she had unintentionally hurt in the process. That was a story of its own.

"Nor do I like doing it!" she adds hurriedly.

"Won't she remember what you said?" Fred asks slowly, trying to process everything that just happened.

Margaret's face grew visibly rouge and she shook her head without turning back to look at him.

"She'll be confused but she won't remember talking to me," she mumbles. Glancing up at Dumbledore, she attempts to give him an apologetic smile, "Sorry about what I said. I believe Hogwarts is a great school, I swear! It's just... she's a half-decent Occlumens, so I had to work harder."

The Headmaster nodded in acceptance of her words and smiled good-naturedly.

"I understand, Margaret. Why don't you all head to the hospital wing and get your injuries checked out? It has indeed been a long day," he suggests, waving his hand and levitating the Contes D'Animagus over to Margaret.

"Don't forget," says Professor McGonagall sternly as she turned to Fred and George and handed them their wands, "your detentions begin tonight."

The two of them were still too stunned by everything to protest. On the other hand, Margaret walked past them and out of the door wordlessly.

. It had been a very long walk to the hospital wing already. McGonagall had stayed behind to talk to Dumbledore about something, so now it was just the three of them, walking silently and waiting for the other to talk first.

She whipped around, glaring at the two.

"Will you please say some- oomph!"

Out of nowhere, Fred and George embraced her, nearly knocking her backwards off her feet. Her relieved chuckle was muffled as she patted their backs with some difficulty in their rather awkward position - they were both giants compared to her.

"Don't you start shedding tears now," she mumbles.

George pulled away, wiping his dry cheeks exaggeratedly whilst Fred wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making a show of sobbing into his free hand.

"Whatever shall we do without you, Margie?"

Margaret snorted as they began walking again. "Probably get expelled."

"Probably," they say together, grinning.

"So you're not... I don't know. You don't think I'm... weird?" she asks casually, though some insecurity slips into her tone.

"Weird? Hell yes!" Fred exclaims, taking her by surprise.

"We love weird! Weird is wonderful!" George adds cheerfully.

"Wait, what?"

"Are you kidding? You could do that all this whole time? It's absolutely wicked, Margie!" says Fred, beaming.

"Yeah, well, I don't like doing it," she admits. "It's not... It- It can be destructive. It can drive people to madness..."

"We doubt Umbridge can get any madder-"

"No, you don't understand. It's dangerous" she insists, "and I don't like using my powers when they're not needed."

"They're your powers, you should only use them when you want to," George tells her, nodding. "But we owe you a lot. We, well... we wouldn't have just left quietly, but-"

"I know," she interrupts, smiling at them both. "I'd rather still see those fireworks."

Fred and George gave her a blank look, causing her to smile in amusement.

"Right... what fireworks? Portable Swamp, was it?" she teases.

"Margie..." they say warningly.

"My mouth is sealed, I swear!"

The twins shoot her another glance of warning just as they reach the hospital wing. Margaret ducked, removing Fred's arm from around her, earning a look from him. It was important that both of them had their injuries treated first.

However, as soon as they entered, they heard was moaning.

"You can go, Mister Malfoy, your wounds were minimal. Just rest your leg and you'll be fine in no time," Madam Pomfrey tells him, brushing past a wailing Pansy Parkinson. The matron glanced at Fred, George, and Margaret and gestured them to come over to a spare bed next to Lee.

"You are here!" Lee exclaims before wincing. He had long buck teeth sticking out of his mouth, reaching almost to his collar, so what he said sounded like - Ew bar beer! They were shrinking, though it still reminded Margaret of the Pokémon Rattata.

The scene on the Slytherin side was rather comical - Crabbe and Goyle had their faces wrapped in bandages, only their eyes visible. Margaret thought she saw bright purple and lemon yellow skin respectively when they glared at her. She looked at their third companion, who was moaning while holding his calf which was bandaged as well.

Beside him was Pansy, who was sobbing, being comforted by a gaggle of girls among which stood an awkward-looking Daphne. Margaret gave her a small smile, surprised when she returned it. Theo Nott caught her eye and his scowl vanished; he shot her a wink and a smirk. She raised a brow at him, looking at Blaise leaning on the wall beside him, yawning.

"YOU!" Pansy shrieks through her tears, pointing her wand at Fred and George. "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO HIM!"

"Wish we could've done more!" they exclaim in unison.

"Stop it! Enough duelling you've done today!" Madam Pomfrey straight-up walked to Pansy and snatched her wand, which Margaret thought was hilariously impressive. "Out of here! All of you! Go, shoo! Mister Malfoy-"

Draco groaned into his pillow, causing the matron to purse her lips together.

"Fine, you can stay the night. But you are not getting homework privileges. Mister Crabbe, Mister Goyle, I told you to sleep, didn't I?"

"I can't leave him!" Pansy shouts, distraught. "My Drakie-poo needs me!"

Margaret, Fred, George and Lee collapsed into breathless laughter simultaneously. It only got worse when they saw even Draco glaring at Pansy for the ridiculous nickname.

Apparently, Madam Pomfrey did not recognise a student named Drakie-poo. "Your who? I do not look after miniature puffskeins, Miss Parkinson."

The four Gryffindors were laughing so hard now, they were completely silent. Lee kept nearly stabbing himself in the chest with his teeth, George slapped his thigh, wheezing, while Margaret rested her forehead on Fred's shoulder, both of them shaking in mirth.

As the visitor-Slytherins had no choice but to leave, the hospital wing became considerably quieter a few moments later.

Margaret shifted away from the bed to give Madam Pomfrey space, much to Fred's disappointment. Meanwhile, her eyes wandered to Draco.

He was no longer moaning now that his Pansy-poo was gone and instead decided to entertain himself by reading a small book he had found in his schoolbag, which Margaret presumed one of his friends had brought for him.

Frowning at his bandaged calf, Margaret tilted her head in confusion. The curtains around Crabbe and Goyle's beds were drawn, but their condition seemed much worse than Draco's. He seemed mostly unharmed. Either he was excellent at defence or used his two guard dogs as shields.

Margaret didn't realise she was staring at him absently until Draco looked up. His eyes widened to see her near a different bed than before, having a clear view of the book in his hand. He quickly slammed it shut, catching Margaret's attention as he hurriedly shoved it back inside his bag. All she saw of it was a light brown cover.

She narrowed her eyes at it. A familiar light brown cover.

"Hey, pumpkin," Fred calls, gesturing her to come back, not noticing that she and Draco were both glaring at each other with some uncertainty.

Reluctantly, Margaret tore her eyes from Draco, moving back over to Fred.