[40] A Mother's Wrath

Headmaster's office. Arthur, Molly, Dumbledore, Snape — the four of them sat around Hall.

"Why is he here?" Arthur pointed at Snape.

"Because I am the Head of House for Henry William! I have a right to know what happens to my student." Snape's glare turned to Hall. "My mysterious student wants to tell his poor Professor the truth, doesn't he?"

Hall nodded frantically.

"Hall."

Molly's voice.

He swallowed. "Mum."

Snape's face went rigid.

Dumbledore was stunned. Then it clicked — why Hall cared so much about Squib potions. He'd been one.

"Hall." Molly's voice was cold. "Your supervisor said you were doing well at Muggle school."

"The supervisor mistook another orphan for me."

Hall explained. The Squib Support Association was useless. They pitied Squibs more than they helped them. Hall had found a Muggle orphan who couldn't attend school to impersonate him. The orphan forwarded Hall's mail. Three letters in six months — one telling him not to come home for Christmas because the family was visiting Charlie.

Nobody noticed.

"When did your magic come back?" Arthur asked.

"The day Ron got his Hogwarts letter. I don't know why. I was just — afraid you'd look at me differently."

Molly pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh, Hall. We're family. Why would we look at you differently?"

Before the diagnosis, Hall had been wild, carefree. After, he'd matured overnight. The family had distanced themselves — gently, kindly, but unmistakably.

"We never stopped wanting you. You're our son."

"But — don't you think I'm a disgrace?"

The question hung in the air.

Hall remembered how Arthur used to take him and Ron everywhere. Then it was just Ron and Ginny. His world got smaller.

He'd never minded being a Squib. He minded being caged. Many wizarding families locked their Squibs away, hid them from visitors, never spoke their names. That was what terrified him.

Not losing magic. Losing freedom.

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Molly Weasley's voice cut through the tension, fierce and protective.

"No! We didn't!" Molly's eyes reddened. "We were just worried. Worried you'd get hurt."

She remembered a neighbour's party. Other children playing with magical toys, talking about Hogwarts. Hall sat alone, watching. After that, she'd stopped letting Arthur take him out.

"I'm sorry, son. We never knew you felt that way."

Hall scratched his head. "I thought their games were childish. I stopped playing with those toys when I was three."

He meant it. Pure curiosity once he understood the basic principles, he lost interest. He could live perfectly well without magic.

Arthur's voice was serious. "Hall, you're our pride. No matter what you do, your mother and I will always be behind you."

He reached out and ruffled Hall's red hair. Then his gaze slid sideways. "The green trim is awful, though."

Snape, frozen like a statue, twitched.

"Even if I'm a Slytherin?" Hall noticed the flicker of disdain in Arthur's eyes.

Molly and Arthur's expressions twisted. Molly glared at him. Arthur gritted his teeth. "Yes, even if my darling is a Slytherin. Slytherin is a wonderful house."

The stone statue of Snape's face contorted further.

Dumbledore had to admit a red-headed Weasley in silver and green looked wrong.

"Can you tell your poor Professor your real name?" Snape asked, looking anywhere but Hall's face.

"Hall. Hall Weasley."

"Enough, you stupid troll. Your poor Professor is going deaf."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Thirteen inches. Apologise."

"That bloody Snape! Making my son write lines! He's still weak!"

"Shut up, Weasley. I'm Hall's Head of House now."

Arthur exploded. They bickered like schoolboys. Hall watched them, something warm settling in his chest. Snape had started as someone who only cared about Hall's potion-making. Somewhere along the way, he'd become a real teacher.

Molly sat beside him and stroked his hair. "Albus and I discussed restoring your name. He went to check the Book of Admission."

Her tone shifted. She grabbed his ear. "Now. Tell me what you've been doing at school."

"Ow! Mum, that hurts!"

She ignored him.

"I'll talk! Mercy!"

Snape spoke up. "Mrs. Weasley, this is Hogwarts. Release my student."

Molly's face twitched. A Weasley in Slytherin. She'd need reminding.

She let go.

Arthur and Molly had seen "Henry William" in their sons' letters. They thought it was a coincidence � common name, same as old William's son next door. After the Quidditch match before Christmas, they'd cursed Henry William all night.

"People named William are all the same. Holding grudges."

Now they stared at Hall.

"Just normal student things." Hall smiled innocently.

Dumbledore returned with a book so large it looked heavy even for him.

The Book of Admission. It recorded every magical child in Britain. The Pen of Acceptance sensed when a child's magic manifested and wrote their name automatically. Hall's name had appeared � but after the Hogwarts deadline. The book had moved it to the following year.

Hall would start a year after Ron.

"Professor, can we move it forward?" He pointed at his name.

Dumbledore smiled. "The book is conscious, Hall. I can't"

Hall's name moved. Across the page. It settled next to Ron's.

Everyone stared.

Dumbledore was speechless. The Book of Admission answered to no one.

Except, apparently, Hall Weasley.

Hall held up his index finger. "Professor. Hehehe."

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