The Gloriana Set

Annoying, but Occasionally Useful

Now the Beaters were shifting nervously on their stools under her stare, and the blond one (Bloom?) raised his hand. She nodded.

"M-Miss Granger," he said. "Uh, would you like us to start scrubbing now?"

"Scrubbing? Scrubbing what?" she asked.

"We've been scrubbing the giant cauldrons," Bloom said. He swallowed. "Without magic."

Hermione looked toward the back of the dungeons, where three monstrous cauldrons squatted. Ancient and hulking, the iron cauldrons were covered in infinite layers of grime and scorched potions, constantly emitting vile fumes. Nobody ever used them. Not even the strongest Scourgify could clean them, and the most back-breaking scrubbing would make little difference.

She bit her lip, considering. While the thought of these two spending the evening in hopeless toil warmed her heart, there were other, more productive, options. Hermione stepped up to their table and the two boys shrank back, looking down at her uneasily.

"Perhaps," she said coolly. "You two would prefer to do something else."

Bloom and Pratt's eyes widened hopefully. "Really, Miss Granger?" Bloom asked. "That'd be fucking—" He cleared his throat. "That would be great." Pratt nodded eagerly.

Hermione squinted up at them. "You could ... write sentences."

"Fuck, yeah," Pratt said. Bloom gave him a furious look and Pratt flushed. "Sorry, Miss Granger."

Hermione pulled out her wand (the Beaters flinched) and a sentence appeared on the board: "I will not lose control of my broom and slam into annoying but occasionally useful Seekers at high speed."

Bloom raised his hand. "Uh, Miss Granger?" He flinched again as she looked at him. "We didn't lose control of our brooms."

"That's right," Pratt said. "We didn't."

Hermione blinked slowly at them, a trick she'd picked up from Astoria, of all people. Quite effective, really. "Well, it's very important that the sentence be accurate. Wouldn't you agree?" Pratt and Bloom both nodded, happy to help.

She waved her wand again: "I will not slam into annoying but occasionally useful Seekers at high speed for no good reason."

"We had a good reason!" Pratt protested.

"Rupert!" Bloom hissed.

"Did someone make you do it?" Hermione asked.

Pratt shook his head, his face grim. "No, but that poncy git bullied us for years, Miss Granger. Every day, he'd call me prat—"

"Isn't that your name?" Hermione asked.

Pratt glowered. "It was the way he said it. Bum and prat, he called us." Bloom nodded agreement.

Hermione's mouth fell open. Merlin help her, she almost believed them. That sounded just like Malfoy. She waved her wand again: "I will not purposely slam into annoying but occasionally useful Seekers at high speed, in response to years of bullying, without proper warning."

"We did warn him!" Pratt cried.

"Rupert!" Bloom hissed. "Don't listen to him, Miss Granger—"

"It's very simple, Mr. Bloom," Hermione said sternly. "You can either write me accurate sentences or ..." Her eyes drifted back to the three giant, filthy cauldrons. The boys shuddered.

Bloom sighed. "We may have sent the git some letters. We hoped he'd just quit."

Hermione waved her wand again: "I will not purposely slam into annoying but occasionally useful Seekers at high speed, in response to years of bullying, after sending pitiful letters that would scare nobody."