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Chapter 43: School Trial (1)
🕑 Added 2025-10-02 16:02:08 +0000 UTC[Great Hall 7:08 PM]
The doors of the Great Hall opened with a faint creak. Ryan and Lily entered at the same time. They walked side by side, and although it wasn’t intentional, or at least not on Lily’s part, eyes began turning toward them.
But not because of Ryan’s clash with Mulciber and Evan Rosier.
That had happened nearly an hour ago, and the only direct witnesses were: Ryan, Lily, the aggressors themselves, and the victim.
No. What drew the stares was something else.
Ryan Ollivander walking in with Lily Evans.
Two very different worlds. Two very different reputations.
The Gryffindors looked at him with a mix of respect and puzzlement. The young inventor figure, that boy with dark glasses who sold enchanted quills and racked up Transfiguration points as if it were nothing.
And now he was walking with Lily Evans, a fourth-year girl with a very respectable reputation, always handed in her homework, earned good marks, the one who scolded Sirius Black if he mocked the professor.
At the Slytherin table, Evan Rosier and Mulciber feigned normality. Relaxed postures, expressionless faces, but their brows furrowed slightly when they saw Ryan.
Humiliated. Silently.
They hadn’t told their housemates yet. Of course not. How could they explain that Ryan Ollivander, the eccentric, had disarmed them as if they were mere beginners? They weren’t about to let the others know. Better to retrieve their wands quietly through the professors.
For now, shame outweighed resentment.
When Ryan and Lily were about to sit at the Gryffindor table, the voice of a sixth-year prefect cut through the murmur around that section of the table.
“Ollivander. Professor McGonagall wants to speak with you.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise, but Lily didn’t buy that act.
“Oh, really? And may I know the reason for such an honorable summons?” Ryan asked.
The prefect didn’t answer. He just looked at him with a neutral expression, knowing full well that Ryan knew exactly why he was being called.
“I don’t know. Go find out,” he said, then sat back down with his sixth-year friends, though still keeping an eye on him.
Ryan looked at Lily and whispered, “The show begins.”
And then he walked toward the staff table.
At the Gryffindor table, several students followed him with their eyes. Some whispered, others just watched.
He already had a reputation: inventor, eccentric, controversial… and now, apparently, summoned by McGonagall for unknown reasons that didn’t seem good.
Lily kept staring after him with a bad, or maybe good, premonition. But one thing was certain: he was about to cause a scene.
“Lily?”
Mary’s voice snapped her out of the trance. Lily blinked, coming back to the present, and realized several people were watching her.
Mary was sitting right beside her, raising an eyebrow with that mix of sparkle, judgment, and gossip-in-the-making that only best friends could channel without sounding cruel.
“What were you doing with Ryan Ollivander?” she asked, twirling her fork as if it didn’t matter, though it clearly did.
Lily shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
“Nothing. I walked with him to the Hufflepuff common room to drop off a little girl. That’s all.”
“A little girl?” Mary repeated, even more intrigued. “And how did you end up doing that?”
Lily opened her mouth to explain, but didn’t have the chance.
“That’s exactly what I was wondering,” interrupted James Potter, leaning over from a few seats away. He had that smile of his, the one always on the verge of a dumb joke.
“They say Ryan Ollivander has quite the reputation as a womanizer…”
Lily slowly turned her head, unhurried, to pin him with a stare as sharp as a quill in dictation.
“And what does that have to do with anything?” she asked in a tone that made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for nonsense.
“I’m just saying,” James went on, raising his hands as if he were innocent, “it’s strange that Ollivander suddenly turned into a gallant knight. I’ve never seen him do that before, and mind you, he’s always chasing attention. Maybe it’s a tactic to improve his image or to sell you something.”
Sirius let out a chuckle, amused. Peter, beside him, nodded enthusiastically, as if James had said something brilliant.
But Remus raised an eyebrow, calm.
“Ryan sold us the quills a few weeks ago. Remember?” he said, looking at James. “Four quills for eight galleons. And me—since he knew I couldn’t pay all at once, he let me pay in three installments, no interest.”
Lily looked at him, surprised. “Really?”
Remus nodded. “Yes. Straightforward, no tricks or hidden fees. It seemed perfectly fair to me. I don’t think he’s a swindler or someone with ulterior motives. He was even kind. Although that was the only time we talked.”
“Well, well,” murmured Sirius, as if the subject had already gotten too serious.
James folded his arms with a grimace. “I still think there’s something off about him.”
“What’s happening,” said Lily, meeting his eyes without flinching, “is that it bothers some people when someone like Ryan does something good without asking for anything in return. Not everyone needs constant validation, Potter.”
James opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it again. Sirius nudged him with his elbow, amused, while Peter muttered something Lily chose not to hear.
Mary gave Lily a light nudge under the table. “You defended yourself well.”
“Hmph,” Lily said humorlessly, her eyes shifting toward the staff table where Ryan had already reached McGonagall.
Ryan stopped in front of the staff table, hands clasped behind his back, his expression relaxed, as if he were about to give one of his many classroom presentations. McGonagall, seated with her usual severe bearing, looked at him over her square spectacles.
“Mr. Ollivander,” she began, without preamble, “two Slytherin students reported that you stole their wands. Is this true?”
Ryan tilted his head slightly, as if weighing the gravity of the accusation.
“Steal? That’s a strong word, Professor. May I know who the accusers are?”
“Mulciber and Rosier,” said Slughorn, interjecting from his seat with a sigh. He looked uncomfortable, perhaps torn between a talented student and two from his own house. “They said you disarmed them magically without provocation and then didn’t return their wands.”
Ryan tilted his head again, but this time he didn’t smile. His face took on an expression of indignant astonishment, restrained yet theatrical, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
And then he raised his voice.
“Without provocation!?”
It wasn’t a scream. It was a strong, clear exclamation, heavy with incredulity… and perfectly calculated so that everyone in the Great Hall could hear it.
The constant murmur that usually accompanied any meal at Hogwarts began to fizzle out like a damp fuse. Cutlery stopped clinking, conversations ceased.
In less than ten seconds, the attention of more than four hundred students was fixed on a single figure: Ryan Ollivander, standing before the staff table, upright as if he were on the witness stand.
“Is that what they said?” Ryan went on, turning now to the entire hall, not just the professors. “That I disarmed them without provocation? That there were no reasons?”
He turned slowly toward the Slytherin table.
Mulciber and Rosier were there. One with lips pressed tight. The other with his jaw clenched, arms crossed. But they said nothing. They didn’t defend themselves. They only watched him, seething with restrained hatred, humiliation pulsing just beneath the skin.
“Because if that’s what they said,” Ryan continued, pointing at them now with a steady hand, “then they conveniently forgot to mention a few minor details. Like the fact that they were harassing a first-year girl. That they broke an object she had clearly bought with effort. That they cornered her against a wall and insulted her. That they repeatedly called her a Mudblood.”
A murmur rippled through the tables. Not a scandalous uproar, but a wave charged with surprise, outrage, and morbid curiosity.
Ryan did not lower his voice.
“I didn’t go looking for that encounter. I was there by chance. And I decided to act because I don’t like turning a blind eye when a couple of bullies think they can do whatever they want just because their parents are wealthy or because they were born with the right last name.”
Some students began to nod silently. Others just stared at him, open-mouthed, never expecting this from Ryan Ollivander.
“Does it bother you that I kept their wands? Then I ask you: what should I have done? Let them keep intimidating an eleven-year-old girl?”
He turned back toward the professors.
“What I did was take precautions. I took away the tool they were using to commit abuse. And I escorted the victim to her common room to make sure she was safe.”
Then he lowered his hand and shifted slightly toward McGonagall.
“Is that stealing? Or is it acting responsibly in the face of an obvious injustice?”
The Great Hall was silent.
McGonagall did not interrupt him. Flitwick looked astonished. Professor Vespera had her fingers steepled in front of her face, as if weighing each word. Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, regarded him with a mix of approval and caution. Slughorn looked pale, not with anger, but with political discomfort; defending his housemates would not be politically convenient this time if all this were true.
And Dumbledore wore the faintest of smiles.
“Do you have witnesses?” McGonagall asked, unblinking, her composure unshaken even as this suddenly turned into a public trial.
“Of course I do, Professor,” said Ryan.
And just then, as if on cue, though it wasn’t, a figure rose at the Gryffindor table. Everyone turned.
Lily Evans.
Comments
Grabbott
You can just leave me on thid cliff hanger injustice I SAY
