Chapter 30: The Red String of Fate and the Shrieking Shack Slide part- 3
"System Alert," the voice chimed. "Incident recorded. Type: The 'Magnetic Snow Crash'. Upper body exposure in extreme weather conditions. Forced physical proximity via 'Red String'. Target: Hermione Granger. Victim/Beneficiary: Harry Potter. Rating: SS-class. Reward: Skill 'Gravity Well (Minor)' and one hundred attribute points."
(Gravity Well,) I noted. (Localized gravity manipulation. I can make things heavier or lighter. Interesting.)
"We need to get back," Harry's voice came from under the cloak. "She is freezing, Ron."
"Can you walk?" I asked.
"We have to walk together," Hermione's voice trembled. "If we separate, we crash."
"Right," I said. "Three-legged race style. Come on up."
They emerged from the snowdrift. They were huddled together under my cloak. Harry had his arm tightly around Hermione's waist to keep her close (and to prevent the 'Red String' from slamming them together again). Hermione was clinging to him, shivering, wearing my cloak over her exposed top half.
Her jumper was still waving from the fence post.
"Leave it," Hermione said bitterly, eyeing the garment. "It is dead to me."
We began the trek back up the hill. It was a slow, awkward procession. Harry and Hermione were practically fused at the hip. Every time Harry tried to give her an inch of propriety, the invisible string jerked him back, causing him to bump into her hip or shoulder.
"Sorry," Harry muttered for the hundredth time as his hip checked hers.
"It is fine," Hermione whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Just... don't let go. If you let go, I will fly off."
"I won't let go," Harry promised, tightening his grip.
I walked behind them, smiling. They looked like a couple. A traumatized, half-naked, snow-covered couple, but a couple nonetheless.
"You know," I mused aloud. "Maybe this curse is trying to tell you that you are... inseparable?"
"Shut up, Ron," they both said in unison.
We reached the castle entrance. The warmth of the Entrance Hall hit us like a physical wall.
"Dormitory," Hermione commanded. "Immediately. No stopping. No talking to anyone."
"Right," Harry agreed.
They scurried up the marble staircase, still huddled under the single cloak, moving as a four-legged unit.
I stayed in the Entrance Hall. I needed to check the System Shop again. With the new points from the "Snow Crash," I was flush with currency.
(System, show me the 'Gravity Well' details.)
"Skill: Gravity Well (Minor). Allows the user to increase gravity up to 2G or decrease to Zero-G within a two-meter radius. Duration: One minute."
I looked at the marble staircase. Students were walking up and down.
(Zero Gravity on the stairs?) I wondered. (Floating skirts? Floating students?)
Or... High Gravity. Making someone's bag suddenly weigh a ton, causing them to topple backward?
I saw Draco Malfoy walking down the stairs, looking smug about something.
(Target: Draco Malfoy's belt buckle.) (Effect: Increase Gravity by 1000%.)
Draco took a step. Suddenly, his belt felt like it weighed fifty pounds.
Snap.
The buckle broke under the sudden "weight."
"What the—?" Draco yelped.
His trousers dropped to his ankles instantly. He tripped over them and face-planted on the stairs.
"My father will hear about this gravity!" Draco shouted from the floor, revealing silk boxers with golden snitches on them.
I laughed.
"Nice snitches, Malfoy!" I called out. "Harry has the same ones!"
I turned and headed for the Great Hall. I needed food. Orchestrating a romantic comedy was hungry work.
As I ate my roast beef, I wondered what to do next. The Yule Ball was coming up in a few weeks. Formal wear. Dancing. Complicated dresses.
It was the Super Bowl of wardrobe malfunctions.
(System,) I thought. (Does the shop sell anything related to... zippers? Or perhaps, invisible dance partners?)
"The shop has just unlocked the 'Sympathetic Vibration' module," the system replied. "It allows you to find the resonant frequency of any material—glass, wood, or fabric seams—and shatter it with a hum."
I grinned, stabbing a potato.
The Yule Ball was going to be a night to remember.
The announcement of the Yule Ball had hit Gryffindor Tower like a stunning spell. The common room was buzzing with a mixture of excitement, terror and teenage hormones. Girls were giggling in corners, discussing dress robes and color palettes. Boys were standing in awkward huddles, looking like they were preparing for a firing squad rather than a dance.
I sat in an armchair near the fire, observing the chaos with the calm satisfaction of a general surveying a battlefield.
(The Yule Ball,) I thought, suppressing a wicked grin. (The Olympics of social awkwardness. Formal wear. Complicated fasteners. vigorous movement. It is the perfect storm.)
Harry Potter sat opposite me, looking pale. He was currently staring at a book titled Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, but I noticed he was holding it upside down.
"I cannot dance, Ron," Harry muttered, his voice laced with panic. "I am going to step on someone's feet. Or trip. Or..." He lowered his voice. "...accidentally undress someone."
"You will be fine, Harry," I said, flipping a page of my own book. "Just don't waltz near any sharp objects. Or open windows. Or me."
"It is not funny," Harry groaned. "Hermione is already freaking out. She has ordered a dress made of 'Unbreakable Dragon-Silk'. She says she is going to weld herself into it."
(Dragon-Silk,) I noted. (Tough material. High tensile strength. However, even dragon silk has seams. And seams have a resonant frequency.)
"Speaking of Hermione," I said, nodding toward the portrait hole.
Hermione Granger entered. She looked exhausted but determined. She was carrying a stack of books about ballroom dancing etiquette.
"I have calculated the optimal stride length for the waltz," she announced, dumping the books on the table. "If we maintain a separation of precisely twelve inches, the probability of accidental contact is reduced by eighty percent."
"Twelve inches," Harry repeated. "Right. Safety buffer."
"Exactly," Hermione nodded. "Now, we just have to survive the practical lesson today. McGonagall is clearing the Great Hall."
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