Chapter 5
The Headmistress's Office
As Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang entered the Headmistress's office, their steps faltered at the sight before them. Wen Ruohan stood imposingly near McGonagall's desk, his tall frame draped in sleek, black Ministry robes that seemed to absorb the light around him. His dark hair was neatly combed back, accentuating his sharp features and the cold authority in his eyes. Beside him, Wen Chao wore a triumphant expression, his lips curled into a smug smile that promised trouble.
The boys' faces fell, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they approached. Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Koh, please step forward."
As Qing Yi moved closer, the office door opened once more. Ming Zhe entered, his Slytherin robes impeccable and his prefect badge gleaming on his chest. His composed demeanor contrasted sharply with the tension in the room. Qing Yi glanced back, sharing a meaningful look with the older Slytherin. Ming Zhe's eyes swept the room, taking in the scene before landing on the Wens.
Wen Chao’s smirk faltered when he saw Ming Zhe, his brow furrowing in frustration. He hadn’t expected the Slytherin Prefect to be here, and his presence was an unwelcome complication.
The corners of Ming Zhe's mouth twitched upward as he caught Wen Chao's gaze, a knowing glint in his eye. As he approached McGonagall's desk, he couldn't resist a jab.
"Well, well, Wen Chao," he drawled, his voice smooth as silk but sharp as a blade. "It seems you have a talent for turning molehills into mountains. I do hope it was worth the climb."
Wen Chao's jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening visibly at Ming Zhe's words. Wen Ruohan's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flicking between the students with calculated interest.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, her stern gaze sweeping over the assembled group. "Now that we're all here, let's get to the bottom of this... incident."
Professor McGonagall had barely finished speaking when Wen Chao's indignant voice cut through the air. His eyes darted to his father, a mix of confusion and betrayal in his gaze. "Father, I thought we agreed the prefect wouldn't be involved in this... issue."
Wen Ruohan's lips curled into a thin smile, his eyes never leaving McGonagall as he addressed his son. "Now, now, Wen Chao," he said, his silky voice carrying an undercurrent of warning. "I'm certain the Headmistress wishes to conduct a thorough investigation. It's only fitting that all parties involved are present, wouldn't you agree?"
McGonagall's face hardened, her stern gaze fixed on the Wens. "Indeed, Secretary Wen. As this appears to be an internal Slytherin matter, it's crucial that the house prefect is not only aware but actively involved in resolving such... disagreements before they escalate." Her eyes flicked meaningfully to Ming Zhe.
Ming Zhe's confident smile never wavered as he responded, "Of course, Professor. However, I didn't deem this incident significant enough to warrant immediate reporting. It appeared to be a minor scuffle between boys, one I believed they had resolved amongst themselves." His gaze slid to Wen Chao, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Evidently, I was mistaken. It seems some of us prefer to run to Daddy dearest when faced with the consequences of our actions. How... quaint."
Wen Chao's face flushed red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
Wen Ruohan's eyes flashed dangerously. He turned his cold gaze on the Slytherin prefect, his voice low and menacing. "Watch your tongue, boy. That prefect badge doesn't grant you immunity from consequences. You'd do well to remember your place."
Ming Zhe's smile never faltered, though a glint of steel appeared in his eyes. "My apologies, Secretary Wen. I merely find it curious how some seek paternal intervention for every little scrape and bruise. In my experience, it's far more rewarding to stand on one's own merits." His tone was light, almost conversational, but the implication was clear.
The tension in the room thickened, like a storm brewing on the horizon. Professor McGonagall, sensing the growing hostility, swiftly intervened. Her stern voice cut through the air like a knife. "That's quite enough, gentlemen. Mr. Wen Chao," she said, fixing the young Slytherin with a piercing gaze, "please enlighten us about the events that transpired. From the beginning, if you would."
Wen Chao hesitated, his eyes darting nervously between Ming Zhe's knowing smirk and his father's stern countenance. He swallowed hard before pointing an accusing finger at Qing Yi. "Well... that little doxy broke my nose and snapped my wand! I demand justice!"
Professor McGonagall's eyebrows arched high as she glanced at Qing Yi, then back to Wen Chao. "I see. And what, pray tell, prompted such a violent response from Mr. Koh?"
Wen Chao's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Wen Ruohan, his patience clearly wearing thin, snapped, "Out with it, boy! Tell her what you told me."
Just as Wen Chao stammered, "I... I...", the office door burst open. Two more Slytherin students, Ashford and Bignal, stumbled in, their confused expressions quickly morphing into looks of intimidation as they took in the assemblage.
"Ah, perfect timing," McGonagall said dryly. "Perhaps Mr. Ashford and Mr. Bignal can shed some light on the situation?"
The newcomers exchanged fearful glances with Wen Chao, their words coming out in an unintelligible stutter.
Seizing the moment, Nie Huaisang stepped forward, his voice surprisingly steady. "Professor, if I may, I can explain what really happened."
McGonagall's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Well, since our alleged 'victims' seem to have misplaced their tongues, let's hear from the defense, shall we?" She gestured for Nie Huaisang to continue, her sharp eyes missing nothing as they swept across the room.
Nie Huaisang stepped forward, his usual timidity replaced by a surprising steadiness. He took a deep breath, his eyes flickering between McGonagall and Wen Ruohan before settling on a spot just above their heads.
"I was on my way to class," he began, his voice quiet but clear, "when Wen Chao and his friends cornered me. They took my books, my wand. I was terrified." His gaze shifted to Qing Yi, gratitude shining in his eyes. "That's when Qing Yi saw what was happening and stepped in."
As Huaisang recounted the verbal sparring between Qing Yi and Wen Chao, Qing Yi's face remained impassive, though his eyes never left Wen Chao's increasingly uncomfortable form. Ming Zhe watched the proceedings with barely concealed amusement, while McGonagall's expression grew more severe with each word.
"Then Wen Chao pulled out his wand," Huaisang continued, his voice dropping as if he were reliving the moment. "He threatened to give Qing Yi a pig's snout to 'improve his looks'."
Gasps echoed around the room. McGonagall's eyebrows shot up, while Wen Ruohan's face darkened, his brow furrowing so deeply it looked carved in stone. Wen Chao seemed to shrink under the weight of the stares directed at him.
McGonagall's voice cut through the tension. "And what prompted such nasty exchanges?"
Wen Chao, seizing the opportunity to defend himself, blurted out, "He insulted my family! I asked if he knew who my father was, and he had the audacity to ask if my mother never told me!"
A snort of laughter escaped Ming Zhe before he could stifle it. McGonagall shot him a warning look before turning her piercing gaze to Qing Yi, her expression a perfect blend of exasperation and disbelief.
Qing Yi squirmed under her stare, his composure finally cracking. "He was trying to intimidate me by asking if I knew who his father was," he explained, his voice small but defiant. His eyes flicked to Wen Ruohan before returning to McGonagall. "I didn't know at the time, so I just... responded without thinking. I know now, of course, but then..."
"So you thought such a disrespectful retort was the appropriate response?" McGonagall's tone was sharp enough to cut glass.
Qing Yi's shoulders slumped slightly. "It was just to counter his threats. He was bullying Huaisang, and I wanted to stand up for my friend."
McGonagall let out a long-suffering sigh, her fingers massaging her temples. It was clear she was dealing with nothing more than a childish squabble that had spiraled out of control.
"I see," she said, her voice a mixture of exasperation and resignation. "While I understand the desire to defend one's friends, Mr. Koh, there are more appropriate ways to do so." She turned her attention back to Nie Huaisang, her expression softening slightly. "Mr. Nie, please continue with your account. What happened after this... exchange of words?"
Huaisang nodded, resuming his account. "Qing Yi, being smaller and outnumbered, acted quickly. He... well, he headbutted Wen Chao and broke his nose." Seeing McGonagall's sharp intake of breath, Huaisang hastily added, "But Professor, it was only to help us escape!"
McGonagall's gaze, sharp as a razor, cut to Wen Chao. "I see," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "And the broken wand, Mr. Nie?"
Huaisang shifted uncomfortably, his earlier confidence wavering. "Qing Yi snapped it. I think... I think he was just afraid of being turned into a pig."
"I wasn't really going to do it!" Wen Chao blurted out, his face a mixture of indignation and fear.
"Quiet," McGonagall snapped, fixing Wen Chao with a stare that could have frozen fire. "Is this what transpired, Mr. Wen?"
Wen Ruohan's glare could have melted stone as he stared at his son. The air around him seemed to crackle with barely suppressed rage.
Ming Zhe chose this moment to step forward, his voice smooth as silk but sharp as a blade. "If I may, Professor, I can corroborate part of this story." His lips curled into a smirk as he glanced at Wen Chao.
"I came upon the scene just as these two first-years were fleeing, while our esteemed Mr. Wen nursed a bloodied nose. When I inquired about the incident, he rather rudely told me to mind my own business." His smirk widened. "I suppose being bested by a smaller first-year must have been quite... humiliating."
Wen Chao's face contorted with rage, his hands balling into fists at his sides, but he remained silent. His lackeys, Ashford and Bignal, seemed to be trying to melt into the background, studiously avoiding everyone's gaze.
Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes then turned to Qing Yi, who had been standing quietly. "Mr. Koh," she said, her tone measured, "do you have anything to add to Mr. Nie's account?"
Qing Yi shared a brief look with Nie Huaisang, drawing strength from the supportive gaze of his friend. He then faced McGonagall, his posture straightening slightly. "No, Professor," he replied, his voice calm and clear. "Huaisang has recounted the events accurately. I have nothing further to add."
Professor McGonagall's posture relaxed slightly, though her eyes remained sharp. "Well," she said, her tone dry, "it seems this tale is as clear as a Pensieve memory." She turned to Wen Ruohan, who was still glowering at his son. "I trust this clarifies the situation for you, Secretary Wen?"
Wen Ruohan's scowl deepened as he glanced at his son before addressing McGonagall. His voice was cold and precise when he spoke. "Indeed, Headmistress. It appears I was... misinformed about the nature of this incident." His gaze swept over Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang, a mixture of disdain and grudging respect in his eyes. "Clearly, the threat was far less significant than I was led to believe."
He turned back to Wen Chao, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper that nevertheless carried in the quiet room. "In the future, boy, ensure you resolve your own... mishaps before bringing them to my attention. Am I understood?"
Wen Chao seemed to shrink into himself, his shoulders hunching forward protectively, his earlier bravado completely evaporated. "Yes, Father. I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
Wen Ruohan straightened, smoothing his robes before bowing slightly to McGonagall. "Good day, Professor." As he strode towards the door, his movements sharp and precise, he shot one last glare at Ming Zhe. The Slytherin prefect met his gaze unflinchingly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips until the man had left the room.
As the heavy oak door closed behind Wen Ruohan with a resounding thud, Professor McGonagall settled into her high-backed chair. Her sharp eyes, magnified by her square spectacles, swept over the remaining students. The air in the office seemed to shift, the earlier tension giving way to a palpable sense of anticipation.
"Gentlemen," she began, her voice firm but not unkind. The portraits of former headmasters leaned forward in their frames, eager to catch every word. "Let this incident serve as a lesson to you all."
Her gaze lingered on Wen Chao and his cronies, who squirmed uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "Bullying," she emphasized, her Scottish brogue becoming more pronounced, "is not tolerated at Hogwarts." Wen Chao's face flushed a deep crimson, a mixture of shame and lingering defiance in his eyes.
McGonagall's attention then shifted to Qing Yi, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. "And while standing up for one's friends is admirable, violence should always be a last resort." Qing Yi nodded solemnly, his posture straightening under her gaze.
She paused, letting her words sink in. The silence in the room was broken only by the soft whirring of silver instruments on nearby shelves.
"Normally, this would result in a significant deduction of house points. However," her gaze softened slightly as she looked at Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang, then to Ming Zhe, "given the circumstances and Mr. Huang's appropriate handling of the situation, I will refrain from taking points from Slytherin."
Wen Chao's face lit up momentarily, his shoulders relaxing, but Professor McGonagall's next words wiped the relief from his features.
"That said, Mr. Wen, Mr. Ashford, and Mr. Bignal," she continued, her tone sharpening, "you will be serving detention." The three boys stiffened, exchanging worried glances. "For the next week, you'll be assisting Hagrid with the care of some of our more... challenging magical creatures. I believe he recently acquired a nest of fire crabs that need tending."
The color drained from Wen Chao's face, while Ashford and Bignal looked as though they might be sick. None, however, dared to protest.
"You're dismissed," McGonagall said sharply, gesturing towards the door. As they shuffled out, Wen Chao and his friends shot venomous glares at Ming Zhe, Qing Yi, and Nie Huaisang. Ming Zhe met Wen Chao's gaze coolly, one eyebrow raised in silent challenge, while Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang shared a look of relief.
Once the door closed behind them, McGonagall's stern demeanor softened slightly. She addressed the remaining boys, her tone more gentle but still carrying authority.
"Mr. Koh, Mr. Nie, while your intentions were noble, please remember that there are always alternatives to physical confrontation. And Mr. Huang," she nodded approvingly at Ming Zhe, "well done on your handling of the situation. You may all return to your regular schedules."
As they descended the spiral staircase, Qing Yi turned to Ming Zhe, his green eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you for backing us up in there," he said, his voice sincere but tinged with a hint of nervousness.
Ming Zhe's amber eyes fixed on Qing Yi with an intensity that made the younger boy want to look away. A small, enigmatic smile played on his lips. "Don't mention it," he replied, his voice smooth and controlled. "Though I must admit, watching Wen Chao squirm under scrutiny was its own reward."
He placed a hand on Qing Yi's head, ruffling his hair slightly. The gesture was both affectionate and slightly patronizing, causing Qing Yi to tense momentarily. "Just try to stay out of trouble moving forward, alright?" Ming Zhe's tone was light, but there was a hint of warning beneath it.
Qing Yi felt a slight blush creep up his neck, nodding quickly as Ming Zhe strode away, his prefect badge glinting in the torchlight. He and Nie Huaisang watched the older boy's retreating form, a mixture of awe and intimidation in their gazes.
"You know," Nie Huaisang murmured, leaning close to Qing Yi, his voice barely above a whisper, "his sharp amber eyes always make me feel a bit uncomfortable, but he really is a good prefect for Slytherin, isn't he?"
Qing Yi nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on Ming Zhe's disappearing figure. "Yeah, you're right about the... uncomfortable part. But he came through for us today." He turned to face his friend fully, gratitude evident in his expression. "Thanks for speaking up for me in there, Huaisang. I really appreciate it."
Nie Huaisang's face broke into a bright smile, his earlier nervousness melting away. "No problem!" he exclaimed, giving Qing Yi a playful punch on the arm. "It was the right thing to do." His eyes suddenly widened in realization, panic flashing across his features.
"Oh no, we're going to be late!" He grabbed Qing Yi's sleeve, tugging urgently. "Come on, we've got flying lessons next!"
As they rushed off down the corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls, the weight of the morning's events seemed to lift. It was replaced by the familiar excitement of their next adventure at Hogwarts, the castle's magic humming around them as they raced towards their next class.
As Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang raced across the Hogwarts grounds, they spotted their friends already gathered for the flying lesson. Wei Wuxian waved enthusiastically, his robes billowing in the breeze.
"There you are!" Wei Wuxian called out as they approached, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "How'd it go with old McGonagall? Did she turn you into mice for being naughty students?"
Nie Huaisang, still slightly out of breath, launched into a dramatic retelling of the office encounter. "You won't believe what happened! Wen Chao was there with his father, and-"
"Wait, wait!" Jiang Cheng interrupted, holding up a hand. "His father? The Secretary of Magic himself?"
Huaisang nodded vigorously. "The very same! And when Wen Chao tried to act all high and mighty..."
As he reached the part about Qing Yi's comeback to Wen Chao, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng burst into uproarious laughter.
"'Did your mother never tell you?'" Wei Wuxian wheezed, clutching his sides and nearly falling over. "Oh, that's absolutely brilliant! I'm definitely using that one. Jiang Cheng, remind me to say that next time Wen Chao tries to pull rank!"
Jiang Cheng, wiping tears from his eyes, added, "I'd pay good money to see Wen Chao's face when you said that! It must have been priceless!"
Lan Wangji, his expression as stoic as ever, turned to Qing Yi. "Were house points deducted for such... colorful language?"
Qing Yi shook his head, still looking a bit surprised himself. "Surprisingly, no. Professor McGonagall said we should have lost points, but she decided against it because of our 'efforts to stand up to bullying' and Ming Zhe's 'appropriate handling of the situation.'"
"Blimey," Wei Wuxian grinned, slapping Qing Yi on the back, "who knew standing up to Wen Chao could actually save points? You're our hero, Qing Yi!"
Their animated conversation was interrupted by Madam Hooch's sharp whistle. "Alright, first-years! Line up beside a broom, and let's begin!"
The students scrambled to find spots. Wen Ning, looking nervous, stood beside a particularly gnarled old broom.
"Now," Madam Hooch instructed, her hawk-like eyes surveying the group, "hold your hand over the broom and say 'Up!' with feeling!"
A chorus of "Up!" echoed across the field. Wei Wuxian's broom jumped eagerly into his hand, while Lan Wangji's rose with graceful precision. Jiang Cheng's broom wobbled a bit before rising, causing him to mutter, "Come on, you stubborn twig!"
Wen Ning, his face scrunched in concentration, said "Up!" in a timid voice. The broom shot up alright – straight into his face with a resounding thwack!
"Ow!" Wen Ning yelped, stumbling backward as his friends tried (and failed) to stifle their laughter.
"Are you alright, Mr. Wen?" Madam Hooch called, looking concerned.
"Y-yes," Wen Ning mumbled, his cheeks as red as his nose. "I think the broom misunderstood 'up'... Is it supposed to attack us?"
Wei Wuxian, still chuckling, patted Wen Ning on the back. "Don't worry, it's just showing its affection. Very violently."
As the lesson progressed, Qing Yi found himself struggling with an ancient, temperamental broom. It vibrated ominously as he hovered a few feet off the ground, making a sound like an angry cat.
"Mr. Koh, is everything alright?" Madam Hooch asked, eyeing the quivering broom suspiciously.
Before Qing Yi could answer, the broom gave a violent jerk and shot off across the field, zigzagging wildly. Qing Yi clung on for dear life, his screams leaving a trail of echoes behind him.
"It's gone mad!" Wei Wuxian shouted, half-horrified, half-amused. "Look at him go!"
Jiang Cheng cupped his hands around his mouth. "Qing Yi! Try singing to it. Maybe it likes music!"
The broom suddenly changed tactics, dropping Qing Yi unceremoniously on the grass before turning to chase him, bristles-first, like an angry, wooden hornet.
Qing Yi's eyes widened in horror as he scrambled to his feet. "Oh no, oh no, oh no!" he yelped, his voice rising in panic. The broom charged, and Qing Yi took off running, his arms flailing wildly above his head.
"Help! Somebody help me!" he shrieked, zigzagging across the field with the possessed broom in hot pursuit. "It's trying to sweep me to death!"
His classmates watched in a mixture of horror and amusement. Wei Wuxian was doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face. "Run, Qing Yi, run!" he shouted between gasps. "Show that broom who's boss!"
Jiang Cheng, trying and failing to maintain a straight face, called out, "Try reasoning with it! Maybe it just wants to be friends!"
Even Lan Wangji's usually stoic expression had cracked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched the bizarre chase unfold.
Nie Huaisang, meanwhile, was hopping from foot to foot in distress. "Do something!" he pleaded to no one in particular. "That thing's going to skewer him!"
Qing Yi, red-faced and panting, continued his frantic escape. He darted between his classmates, causing a ripple of chaos as students dove out of the way of both boy and broom. "Madam Hooch!" he wailed. "A little help here!"
Madam Hooch, who had been momentarily stunned by the absurdity of the situation, finally snapped into action. She whipped out her wand, her yellow hawk-like eyes narrowed in concentration.
"Stand clear, everyone!" Madam Hooch shouted, drawing her wand. As Qing Yi made another pass, running for his life, she took careful aim.
"Immobulus!" she cried, her spell striking the broom with precision.
The rogue broom froze mid-air, hovering harmlessly as Qing Yi skidded to a stop, panting heavily.
"Finite Incantatem," Madam Hooch added, causing the broom to drop gently to the ground. She approached Qing Yi, concern evident in her hawk-like eyes. "Mr. Koh, are you alright? I do apologize. That broom was clearly defective."
Qing Yi nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm okay, just a bit... shaken."
"Right then," Madam Hooch said decisively. "Wait here." She strode briskly towards a small shed at the edge of the training grounds, disappearing inside for a moment before emerging with another broom.
"This one's a bit newer," she explained, handing it to Qing Yi, “it should be more reliable."
Qing Yi eyed the new broom warily, half-expecting it to leap from his hands. When Madam Hooch instructed him to try again, he hesitantly held his hand over it and said, "Up?"
The broom responded, but with none of the enthusiasm of its predecessor. It rose slowly, almost reluctantly, inching its way into Qing Yi's hand over the course of several minutes.
"Well," Qing Yi sighed, patting the lethargic broom, "at least this one's not trying to kill me. It might bore me to death, though."
As the lesson wrapped up, the friends gathered again, recounting their various mishaps and triumphs.
"You know," Wei Wuxian grinned, slinging an arm around Qing Yi's shoulders, "between facing down Wen Chao and surviving a broom rebellion, I'd say you're having quite the adventurous first week at Hogwarts!"
Qing Yi couldn't help but laugh. "If this is just the first week, I can't wait to see what the rest of the year has in store for us!"
"Hopefully fewer homicidal brooms," Wen Ning muttered, still rubbing his nose.
As they walked back to the castle, their laughter echoed across the grounds, a testament to the bonds of friendship forged in the face of magical mayhem.
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