Magic? || Years 5-7

Mundungus's Goods: Year 6

The first trip to Hogsmeade was such a stress reliever it took almost all of Amisty's self-control not to run down the steps without her scarf - or cloak, for that matter. Hermione was quick to stop her, shoving a sweater, gloves, a scarf, and her thickest cloak into her hands with an expression so fierce Amisty wilted in an instant. So, fifteen minutes later and a slight struggle with lacing up their boots, the two of them joined Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table covered in several thick layers of wool and fleece.

"You wanna know how Harry decided to wake me up this morning?" Ron grinned as he sat down, scarf nearly coasting into his porridge.

"Do I?" Amisty asked, pulling his scarf to safety.

"So I'm in my bed asleep when there's this flash of light and I'm dangling in the air from my ankle! I thought I was still dreaming, you know, until I feel all the blood rush to my head," His hands were moving wildly, ignoring Amisty's sarcastic eye roll. "And all of them except Harry are all cackling, Seamus and Dean were losing their minds, and then there was another flash of light and I landed on the bed again!"

Amisty snickered, but Hermione turned a frighteningly frigid expression onto poor Harry, "Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?"

Harry frowned, "Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?"

"Was it?" Hermione pressed.

"Well. . ." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not meeting her gaze, "yeah, it was, but so what?"

"So you just decided to try out an unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?" She asked shrilly.

"Why does it matter if it's handwritten?" Harry said. "Amisty writes her own spells all the time!"

"That's different," Amisty muttered. "They're Healing magic, not. . . pranking spells."

"Because it's probably not Ministry of Magic-approved," Hermione said, ignoring the last bit. "And also because I'm starting to this think Prince character was a bit dodgy."

At once, Harry and Ron began to shout, sending Amisty curling up in her chair with her hands over her ears. She wasn't thinking the most polite thoughts, but a glare would have to suffice. The last time she cursed she'd gotten such a long, tedious chewing out from Hermione that she made a mental promise to never do it again. Why Ron never got the same treatment, she would never understand.

"It was a laugh!" Ron lurched the table so badly a bottle of ketchup went flying. "Just a laugh, Hermione, that's all!"

"Dangling people upside down by the ankle?" Hermione said sharply. "Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?"

"Fred and George," Ron said at once, "it's their kind of thing. And, er - "

"My dad," Harry added.

"What?"

"My dad used this spell," Harry replied quickly. "I - Lupin told me."

Hermione sighed, "maybe your dad did use it, Harry, but he's not the only one. We've seen a whole bunch of people use it, in case you've forgotten. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep, helpless."

"Hermione. . ." Amisty mumbled, trying to push the horrific night of the World Cup when Death Eaters hung Muggles in the air to the back of her mind.

"That was different," Ron argued. "They were abusing it. Harry and his dad were just having a laugh. You don't like the Prince, Hermione, because he's better than you at Potions - "