The following week, the Order of the Stars club members gathered in their usual spot, a cozy, corner in their clubroom. The laughter and chatter filled the space, with everyone still buzzing from the fallout of Blaise and Theo's prank on Malfoy. The prank had been simple yet devastatingly effective, and the ripple effects had been the highlight of the week. Blaise and Theo had truly outdone themselves, and the atmosphere in the room was electric with their success.
"Brilliant work, honestly!" Fred Weasley said, clapping Theo on the back. "A prank like that—a masterpiece in simplicity."
"Absolutely," George added, grinning ear to ear. "We've pulled some legendary pranks ourselves, but that one...it was elegant in its execution. Didn't even have to lift a wand."
Blaise smirked, taking a mock bow as he soaked up the praise. "What can I say? Sometimes the best pranks are the ones that play on the victim's own paranoia."
Theo chuckled. "Malfoy thought he was about to be a hero. Probably envisioned himself getting a Slytherin award or something. I can only imagine his face when McGonagall told him he'd fallen for a prank and took those points right out from under him."
The room erupted with laughter again, as each club member imagined the indignant look on Malfoy's face, his usual smugness replaced by disbelief.
As the conversation settled, Hermione cleared her throat, smiling but also looking slightly thoughtful. "You know, it's funny how much effort Malfoy put into trying to get us in trouble—over something that never even existed. But he's hardly alone in obsessing over points."
"Right, Hermione," Fred said, his eyes twinkling. "And remember when you used to be all about earning points for Gryffindor?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I remember. But that was before I realized how...pointless the point system really is."
George snickered. "What changed, Hermione? Was it the hours and hours of studying for all those precious points?"
"Not exactly," Hermione replied, crossing her arms. "It was more about seeing how absurdly biased it was. I'd study for hours, get everything perfect, and then Snape would come along and hand out points to Slytherins for things like, 'excellent posture' or 'speaking eloquently.'"
Everyone laughed, recognizing Snape's infuriating favoritism. It was widely known that he'd award Slytherins points for the most trivial things, while Gryffindor would lose points if someone so much as breathed too loudly in his presence.
"So you just gave up on points?" asked Theo, raising an eyebrow.
"Pretty much," Hermione said, shrugging. "It's just a silly system. It doesn't reflect anyone's actual abilities or growth. I'd rather focus on things that matter—like learning magic properly and, well, pranking people like Malfoy."
"Here, here!" said Terry, raising an imaginary toast. "To leaving the point system behind and to focusing on what's important—the pure, unbridled chaos of pranking."
Everyone laughed and raised their imaginary glasses, toasting to their shared disdain for the House Cup competition and their commitment to causing a little well-intentioned mischief in the process. The evening continued with stories, laughter, and future plans for what the Order of the Stars might do next.
The Order of the Stars club members gathered eagerly in the next sunday evening, their faces beaming with pride as they admired the lineup of freshly crafted broomsticks. After months of hard work, trial, and error, their broomstick project was complete, and they finally had 17 custom-made brooms ready to test. These weren't just any brooms; they were the product of the club's combined efforts, each broomstick crafted with precision and designed specifically for ease of control and reliable stability. For most of the members, these brooms were far superior to anything they had at home.
Hagrid had offered to let them try out the brooms near his hut, a more secluded spot where they could practice without drawing too much attention. Eager and excited, the club members grabbed their broomsticks and followed Hagrid out to a quiet clearing by the Forbidden Forest. One by one, they mounted their new brooms and took to the air.
As they soared through the twilight sky, laughter and cheers echoed through the clearing. The broomsticks were a perfect fit: light enough for easy handling, yet stable enough to keep even the newer fliers in control. They weren't as fast as some of the more advanced models, but they were agile and responsive—ideal for practicing and learning the basics. Some of the members even remarked that these brooms flew better than the ones they owned.
"This is amazing," Hermione said, beaming as she took a few experimental spins. "It feels so stable!"
"And to think we built these ourselves," added Neville proudly, grinning as he watched his fellow club members zipping around.
However, their joy was soon interrupted by the arrival of Marcus Flint, the Slytherin prefect. His expression was one of suspicion and authority as he approached, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the group. "What do we have here?" he sneered, looking over the brooms with narrowed eyes. "First years aren't allowed to have broomsticks. I'll be confiscating these."
A tense silence fell over the group as Marcus stepped forward, looking ready to gather up the broomsticks. But before he could take another step, Fred and George Weasley moved in front of him with matching grins, arms folded.
"Actually, Marcus," Fred began, "these broomsticks belong to us."
"Exactly," added George. "There's no rule about how many broomsticks a couple of older students can have. So I'm afraid you'll have to find something else to confiscate."
Marcus's scowl deepened, but he couldn't argue with the twins' logic. With one last glare, he turned on his heel and stormed off, no doubt heading to inform Professor Snape. As he disappeared from view, the group collectively sighed in relief.
"Whew, that was close," Blaise muttered, looking over at the twins. "Thanks for stepping in."
Fred grinned. "No problem. But if Flint's telling Snape, we should find a safer place to keep these brooms."
The group agreed, and they quickly returned to their club room with their precious broomsticks in tow. Once back in the safety of the Room of Requirement, they gathered to discuss the next step: naming their creation.
After much debate and several rounds of suggestions, they finally reached a consensus. They would name the broomsticks after their own club—the Order of the Stars The name carried the pride and unity of their group, and everyone agreed it was a fitting title for the brooms they had worked so hard to create.
As they admired their new "Order of the Stars" broomsticks, the club members couldn't help but feel a surge of accomplishment. They'd faced challenges, worked together, and now had something truly special to show for it. Whatever else happened that year, they knew they had a piece of magic they'd built with their own hands, a symbol of their hard work and their shared determination.
The Order of the Stars members gathered in front of the Headmaster's office, their nerves jangling. For most of them, this was their first time being summoned to Professor Dumbledore's presence, and they couldn't help but feel anxious. They exchanged tense glances, trying to keep their cool, but with all the heads of house likely waiting inside—and Marcus Flint having tattled about the broomsticks—they knew trouble was likely brewing.
As they waited, the stone gargoyle moved aside with a low rumble, revealing a spiral staircase that wound upward like the unfurling wings of a giant phoenix. Taking deep breaths, they stepped onto the staircase and were carried upward. The unfamiliar experience filled them with a mix of awe and trepidation.
When they reached the top, they found themselves in Professor Dumbledore's office, a room filled with strange instruments, portraits of former headmasters, and a soft golden glow. The first thing that caught their eyes was Fawkes, Dumbledore's majestic scarlet-and-gold phoenix, perched on a stand near the desk. As they filed in, Fawkes looked at them calmly, then let out a gentle, melodic trill that seemed to wash over them, soothing some of the fear that had been building in their chests.
Professor Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his expression as warm and kind as ever, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. Around him stood Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout, each of the heads of house watching the young students intently. Marcus Flint was also present, standing to the side with his arms crossed, a smug expression on his face as he glanced at the nervous group.
"Good evening, everyone," Professor Dumbledore greeted them in a gentle tone that seemed to relax them ever so slightly. "I understand that you have been quite industrious this term. I must say, I am impressed by the creativity and dedication you've shown."
The students exchanged uncertain looks. This wasn't the immediate reprimand they'd expected.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he continued, "However, it appears your efforts have raised some concerns, particularly regarding your broomsticks."
At this, Professor Snape's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on Blaise and Theo with a piercing look. "Possession of broomsticks by first years is not only a breach of the rules," he intoned icily, "but highly... inadvisable." His lips curled slightly as he glanced at Marcus Flint, clearly annoyed by the situation.
Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, had her eyes trained on Fred and George Weasley, who looked perfectly unbothered by the whole affair. "Fred, George," she began, her tone severe, "I trust you understand the responsibilities that come with being older students."
Before anyone could speak, Harry cut in confidently, "There is no rule... The rules are quite clear. They only state that first years are not allowed to bring broomsticks to the school," he began, his voice steady as he laid out his point.
But before Harry could go any further, Professor Snape interrupted with a sharp glare. "So, are you suggesting, Potter, that Mr. Flint here was mistaken? That he didn't witness every single one of your club members with a broomstick?" Snape's gaze flickered over the group, his tone loaded with suspicion. "After all, the Weasley twins might claim ownership, but given their family's... circumstances, it's rather unbelievable they could afford so many broomsticks."
Harry met Snape's eyes and gave a small, triumphant smile. "I'm not saying Mr. Flint was wrong in what he saw. I'm simply pointing out that the rules say we're not allowed to bring broomsticks to Hogwarts," Harry clarified. "But the rules say nothing about building broomsticks ourselves inside the school."
There was a stunned silence in the room. Professor Flitwick, who had been observing quietly, looked positively delighted. "Wait—are you saying you built these broomsticks?" he asked, leaning forward with a spark of excitement.
Harry nodded, but then corrected him, "Not just me, Professor. All of us—the club members. After Neville's rough experience with a school broomstick at the beginning of the term, we thought Hogwarts could use some safer, better-suited brooms for first years to practice on. So we made it our project to build new ones. What Mr. Flint saw was simply us testing our work."
The room fell silent as everyone took this in, the shift in mood palpable. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a newfound respect, while Professor McGonagall seemed both impressed and slightly exasperated by the clever loophole they had used. Even Professor Sprout had to bite back a smile.
The professors were stunned by the implication that a group of first-year students had managed to build functioning broomsticks. Broomstick crafting was a rare and complex branch of magic, one mastered by only a handful of skilled wizards and magical craftsmen. That these students not only managed it but also did so for the benefit of Hogwarts was truly impressive. Until now, the Order of the Stars had been seen as a harmless gathering of first years, indulging in creative projects and keeping out of trouble. But the revelation of their broomstick project made the professors take the club far more seriously.
Professor Snape, however, remained skeptical. He raised a doubtful eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by the students' claims. "Perhaps," he began in a low, skeptical tone, "we should verify this supposed feat ourselves."
With that, the professors decided to pay a visit to the Order of the Stars' club room. The students led them down the corridors and finally to the room. As they stepped inside, the professors took in the sight of several brand-new broomsticks, each one crafted with care and bearing a unique charm. It was undeniable—these broomsticks were not ordinary school-issue but custom-made, perfectly suited for beginner flyers.
Neville, the club's secretary, stepped forward proudly. "We'd like to donate these broomsticks to Hogwarts," he announced, beaming with excitement. "We'll bring them to the great hall tomorrow morning and after we presented the broomstick to the Headmaster, Professor Hooch can inspect them, and we hope they'll be used for first-year flying lessons."
The professors exchanged glances of astonishment, with even Professor Snape giving a reluctant nod of respect. One by one, the professors congratulated the club members, acknowledging the hard work and dedication they had poured into their project. The students could hardly believe it—their little club had made a lasting contribution to Hogwarts, and for the first time, they felt as though they'd truly earned a place in the school's legacy.
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