The next morning

Oliver woke up early, his mind buzzing with anticipation for the day ahead. 

He dressed quickly in his Hogwarts uniform and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

In the Great Hall

The hall was bustling with students chatting and the aroma of freshly cooked food filling the air.

Spotting Hermione already seated at the Gryffindor table, Oliver couldn't help but smile. He walked over and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, making her blush slightly.

"Good morning, Mia," Oliver said softly, sitting beside her.

Hermione smiled back, her eyes bright with happiness. "Good morning, Oliver."

As they began to eat, Ron and Harry joined them, teasing each other about Quidditch and upcoming classes. Oliver couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging as he listened to their banter, realizing how much his friends meant to him.

"You know," Ron said between bites of toast, "I never thought I'd see the day when Oliver Queen wasn't chasing after trouble."

Oliver chuckled, glancing at Hermione fondly. "Well, maybe I've found something worth chasing."

Harry raised an eyebrow playfully. "Careful, mate. Hermione might give you detention for being too mushy."

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Oh, stop it, both of you."

They continued to enjoy their breakfast together, the conversation flowing easily as they made plans for the day. Oliver felt a surge of gratitude for the new chapter unfolding in his life, filled with friendship, love, and the magic of Hogwarts.

As they finished their meal, Oliver squeezed Hermione's hand under the table, silently thanking fate for bringing them together.

Oliver leaned closer to Hermione, his voice soft as he spoke, "I'm glad we have this time together before classes start. It feels like forever since we've had a quiet moment."

Hermione nodded, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Me too, Oliver. It's nice to have a chance to just enjoy being here, without worrying about anything else."

Ron, munching on a piece of bacon, grinned at them. "Oh, look at you two. All lovey-dovey. Who would've thought Oliver Queen would turn into such a romantic?"

Oliver chuckled, giving Ron a playful shove. "Watch it, Weasley. You might get a detention for teasing Gryffindor's newest power couple."

Harry, sitting across from them, joined in with a grin. "Well, they do make a good pair. Hermione's got brains and Oliver's got... well, he's got a lot of arrows."

Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately at Harry's teasing. "Oh, you boys are incorrigible."

Oliver reached for an apple from the fruit bowl and leaned back in his chair, content. "I never expected any of this when I first arrived at Hogwarts. But I'm glad it turned out this way."

Ron nodded, his expression turning serious for a moment. "You deserve it, Oliver. After everything you've been through, it's about time things started looking up."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah, cousin. We're all glad you're here."

The conversation shifted to lighter topics as they finished their breakfast, discussing Quidditch strategies and upcoming classes. Oliver felt a deep sense of gratitude for his friends and the newfound happiness he had discovered at Hogwarts. As they prepared to head off to their first classes of the day, he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, he had a strong support system by his side.

Oliver turned to Hermione, Ron, and Harry with a mischievous grin. "How about we head out to the courtyard before classes start? I could use some practice with my bow."

Hermione looked intrigued. "That sounds like fun, Oliver. I've never tried archery before."

Ron shrugged. "Why not? It beats sitting in the Great Hall waiting for breakfast to digest."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Count me in. Shooting arrows sounds like a good way to start the day."

Oliver led the way out of the Great Hall and across the castle grounds to the courtyard where the targets were set up. The morning air was crisp and clear, promising a beautiful day.

As they reached the courtyard, Oliver picked up his bow and a quiver of arrows from where he had stored them. He set up a target at a reasonable distance, then turned to Hermione, handing her another bow and arrows.

"Here, Mia," he said with a smile, using the nickname he had given her. "Let's see what you've got."

Hermione accepted the bow with a determined expression, clearly eager to give it a try. Ron and Harry took their positions with bows as well, each sizing up their targets.

"Alright," Oliver instructed, taking a stance and drawing back his first arrow. "Focus on your target, steady your breathing, and let it fly."

The morning passed in laughter and friendly competition as they practiced their archery skills. Oliver offered tips to Hermione and the others, helping them improve their aim. By the time they headed back inside for their first class, they all felt refreshed and ready to tackle the day ahead.

"That was brilliant," Hermione said with a grin as they walked back through the castle corridors.

"Yeah, thanks for suggesting it, Oliver," Ron added, clapping him on the shoulder.

Harry nodded. "Definitely a great way to start the day."

Oliver smiled, feeling a deep sense of camaraderie with his friends. "Anytime, guys. Anytime."

Later

In Herobology

"Morning, everyone. Good morning," Professor Sprout greeted as she entered Greenhouse Three.

"Good morning, Professor Sprout," chorused the students.

"Welcome to Greenhouse Three, second years. Now, gather around, everyone. Today, we're going to re-pot Mandrakes. Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?" Sprout scanned the class.

Hermione's hand shot up, and Sprout nodded, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state," Hermione answered promptly.

"Very good. And what about you, Mr. Queen?" Sprout turned to Oliver, who was standing next to Hermione.

Oliver cleared his throat and spoke confidently, "Mandrake is also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Excellent. 20 points to Gryffindor," Sprout awarded, nodding approvingly. "Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won't kill you yet, but they could knock you out for several hours. That's why I've given each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection. Please put them on right away. Quickly now, flaps tight down, and watch me closely."

All the students quickly donned their earmuffs as instructed by Professor Sprout.

"You grasp your Mandrake firmly," Sprout instructed, demonstrating with her plant. "You pull it sharply up out of the pot..."

A high-pitched squeal pierced the air.

"Got it. And now you dunk it down into the other pot..." Sprout continued, carefully transferring the Mandrake into a new pot, "...and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep it warm."

Neville collapsed as the cry hit him. "Longbottom's been neglecting his earmuffs," Sprout noted wryly.

Seamus corrected, "No, ma'am, he's just fainted."

"Yes, well, just leave him there. Right, on we go," Sprout directed briskly. "Plenty of pots to go around. Grasp your Mandrake... and pull!"

The greenhouse filled with the shrill cries of the Mandrakes as everyone worked.

Oliver chuckled when he noticed Malfoy attempting to handle his Mandrake with less care, only to have it bite his finger.

As the exercise progressed, each student successfully transferred their Mandrake into fresh pots, ensuring their safety and growth.

At Lunch

Bella, Tommy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Oliver sat around the table, watching Ron tape his wand back together.

"Hey, guys. I haven't seen you in a while," Bella remarked.

"It's all good, Bella. You didn't miss much, just Oliver and Hermione finally getting together," Harry said casually.

Bella groaned dramatically. "What? I missed that? Dang it." She rolled her eyes playfully, earning chuckles from the others.

As Bella scanned the bustling hall, her eyes landed on a familiar figure with brown hair. "Barry! Over here," she called out excitedly.

The boy turned and made his way over to their table. Bella beamed as she introduced him, "Guys, this is my twin brother, Barry Allen."

Barry smiled warmly as he greeted Bella's friends. "Hey, nice to meet you all," he said, nodding at Tommy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Oliver in turn.

Ron, always curious, leaned forward. "So you're Bella's twin, huh? You must be fast like her, then," he quipped with a grin.

Barry chuckled, glancing at Bella. "Yeah, something like that. She's always been the speedster," he replied playfully.

Bella rolled her eyes affectionately. "Please, you're just as quick with those pranks, Ron," she retorted, earning a laugh from the group.

As they settled into conversation, Barry caught up on what he had missed and shared a few stories of his own, quickly blending into the lively atmosphere of Bella's circle of friends.

Bella grinned mischievously at Ron as he approached the table, catching his attention. "So, Ron, what's the latest mischief you and Harry have been up to?"

Ron chuckled, leaning against the table casually. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fighting dark wizards, saving the world. The usual stuff."

Bella raised an eyebrow playfully. "Sounds thrilling. I bet Harry gets all the credit while you're left to tape your wand back together."

Ron laughed, shaking his head. "You've got me there. But hey, someone's got to keep him in check."

Bella smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm sure you do a great job of it."

Ron grinned back, enjoying the banter. "Well, someone's got to make sure he doesn't get too big-headed."

Bella leaned in closer, teasingly. "And that someone is you, huh?"

Ron nodded, still smiling. "That's right. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it."

Their playful conversation continued, filled with light teasing and laughter, as they enjoyed each other's company in the bustling Hogwarts dining hall.

Oliver grinned mischievously, interjecting with a playful tone, "Can you two please stop flirting? It's getting nauseating."

Hermione rolled her eyes and lightly smacked Oliver on the back of his head. "Ow!"

The group chuckled at the exchange, and Hermione gave Oliver a pointed look. "You're not Ron, Oliver. Don't try to imitate him."

"Fair enough," Oliver replied sheepishly, taking a bite of his food and settling back into a quieter demeanor.

Harry pointed teasingly at Oliver, who sat quietly eating his food. "Hermione, look what you've done. You've made him sad."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully at Harry's comment. "Oh, please. He's not sad."

Oliver looked up from his plate, a hint of amusement in his eyes despite his quiet demeanor. "I'm not sad, Harry. Just contemplating the mysteries of the universe."

Ron chuckled. "Or maybe he's just hungry. He's always like this when food's involved."

Bella grinned mischievously. "Maybe we should get him a second helping then. Keep his spirits up."

Oliver smirked. "I wouldn't say no to that."

Hermione shook her head, laughing softly. "You're incorrigible, all of you."

Harry grinned. "Well, that's what makes us fun, Hermione."

They continued their meal, the light banter and camaraderie filling the Great Hall with warmth and friendship.

Hermione chuckled at the banter but noticed Oliver rubbing his head where she had smacked him. Concerned, she asked with a hint of teasing in her voice, "Did I smack you too hard, Oliver?"

Oliver grinned, shaking his head. "Nah, just enough to keep me in check."

Ron interjected with a laugh, "That's Hermione for you—strict but fair!"

Bella teased, "You deserved it, Ollie."

Harry added with a smirk, "Yeah, don't mess with Hermione's rules."

Oliver chuckled along with them, the playful ribbing lightening the mood as they enjoyed their meal together in the bustling Great Hall.

Ron looked at his wand, the tape still holding it together, and sighed dramatically. "Say it. I'm doomed."

Harry and Oliver exchanged amused glances and nodded in unison. "You're doomed."

Bella, grinning mischievously, added, "You're doomed, Weasley."

Just then, a familiar voice interrupted them. "Hi, Harry and Oliver."

Colin Creevey introduced himself eagerly, holding up his camera. "I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor too."

"Hi, Colin," Oliver replied warmly, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Colin shook Oliver's hand with a wide grin. "You too. I'll catch up with you guys later. Bye!"

As Colin hurried off, camera in hand, Oliver turned back to his friends, a smile lingering on his face.

Later

In Defense Against the Dark Arts class

All the students were seated as Lockhart strode into the room with an air of self-importance. "Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... me. Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class. Honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award."

Oliver noticed Hermione and Susan beaming at Lockhart and cleared his throat to get Hermione's attention. She quickly looked down at her paper, slightly embarrassed.

Lockhart continued, seemingly oblivious. "But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at him." He flashed his famous smile, clearly enjoying the attention.

Lockhart then grew more serious. "Now, be warned. It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind." He flicked his wand, causing the cage under the cloth at the front of the room to rattle ominously.

Oliver whispered, "What the hell?" as the cage continued to move.

Lockhart's eyes twinkled mischievously. "You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them!" With a dramatic flourish, he whipped the cloth off the cage.

Seamus leaned forward, confused. "Cornish pixies?"

Lockhart nodded with a patronizing smile. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus chuckled, but Lockhart didn't seem amused. "Laugh if you will, Mr. Finnegan, but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let's see what you make of them." With that, he flung open the cage, and the pixies came flying out in a chaotic flurry.

Lockhart shouted, "Hyah! Go!" and the pixies immediately began wreaking havoc, ripping and tearing things apart.

"Round them up, round them up! They're only pixies!" Lockhart called out, trying to maintain an air of control.

Oliver spotted Neville being lifted by his ears. Without hesitation, he pulled out his wand and shouted, "Confingo!" A burst of fire shot towards the pixies, forcing them to drop Neville. Oliver slid across the floor and caught Neville just in time.

"You okay, bud?" Oliver asked concern in his voice.

Neville nodded, his face pale. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Oliver replied, helping Neville to his feet. He turned his attention to Lockhart, frustration evident in his eyes.

Suddenly, he heard Hermione's voice cry out, "Get off of me!" A pixie was tugging at her hair. With a swift flick of his wrist, Oliver transformed his wand into a bow, pulling back and conjuring an arrow. He fired, pinning the pixie to the desk.

Chaos continued to unfold as Lockhart's wand was snatched by a pixie, which used it to blast the chain holding up a dinosaur skeleton. Oliver quickly reacted, rolling over and shouting, "Leviso!" He fired an arrow that suspended the skeleton in mid-air.

He dodged pixies throwing books at him, performing a backflip off the wall. Lockhart, looking frazzled, turned to Oliver, Ron, Tommy, Bella, Barry, Hermione, and Harry. "I'll just ask you seven to nip the rest of them back into their cage." He then scurried into another room.

Ron, bewildered, asked, "What do we do now?"

Oliver, determined, said, "Immobulus!" He shot an arrow into the ceiling, causing all the pixies to freeze in mid-air.

Neville, still shaken, muttered, "Why is it always me?"

Oliver placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, buddy. But we've got this."

Later

Oliver, Harry, Wood, and the rest of the Gryffindor team were heading to the Quidditch pitch, listening to Wood lay out their intense new training regimen. "We're going to start earlier, work harder, and train longer," Wood emphasized.

As they approached the courtyard, they saw the Slytherin team already there. Wood's face contorted with disbelief. "What--? I don't believe it!" he exclaimed.

They made their way over, and Wood confronted Flint. "Where do you think you're going, Flint?"

Flint smirked. "Quidditch practice."

Wood, clearly annoyed, said, "I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today."

Flint held up a note. "Easy, Wood. I've got a note."

Oliver, joined by Ron, Tommy, Bella, Hermione, and Barry, watched as Wood read the note aloud. "I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker."

Wood looked at Flint, confused. "You've got a new Seeker? Who?"

The Slytherin team parted to reveal Malfoy, who stood there with a smug grin.

"Malfoy?" Oliver asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

Malfoy strutted forward. "That's right. And that's not all that's new this year."

Ron, eyeing the brooms, exclaimed, "Those are Nimbus 2001s. How did you get those?"

Flint answered with a sneer, "A gift from Draco's father."

Malfoy added, "You see, Weasley, unlike some, my father can afford the best."

Hermione stepped forward, her voice steady. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

Malfoy's face twisted with anger as he approached Hermione. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

Oliver's temper flared. "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy," he growled, pulling out his wand.

"BOMBARDA!" Oliver shouted, the spell blasting Malfoy to the ground.

The other Gryffindors quickly grabbed Oliver, restraining him as Malfoy groaned in pain on the grass.

"You're lucky, just like your father! Next time I'm gonna hurt you worse!" Oliver yelled as Hermione and the others pulled him away.

"Ollie, calm down, please," Hermione pleaded as they led him into the hallway.

Oliver's anger was still simmering as they walked, his fists clenched and his breathing heavy. Hermione held his arm, trying to soothe him. "It's not worth it, Ollie. He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

Oliver took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I know, Mia. But I can't stand him talking to you like that."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "We know. But we need to stay calm. We can handle this together."

As they continued walking, Oliver gradually calmed down, grateful for Hermione's support. They knew this year at Hogwarts would be challenging, but they also knew they had each other's backs, no matter what.

Later

At Hagrid's

The group was gathered at Hagrid's hut, drinking tea, as Hagrid poured them a fresh round. "This calls for my special tea," he said. "Nothing like it for calming the nerves."

Hagrid looked around at the somber faces and asked, "What's gotten Ollie so mad, anyway?"

Harry responded, "Malfoy. He called Hermione... well, I don't know exactly what it means."

Hermione got up and looked out the window, her back to the group, as Oliver finished his tea with a grim expression.

"He called me a Mudblood," Hermione said softly.

Hagrid's eyes widened. "He did not."

Harry, confused, asked, "What's a Mudblood?"

Hermione turned to face Harry, her expression one of pained resignation. "It means dirty blood. Mudblood is a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone like me. It's not a term one usually hears in civilized conversation. That's what got your cousin so mad, Harry."

Oliver, unable to contain his anger, threw his mug at the wall, shattering it into pieces.

"Hey, that was my favorite mug!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking a bit hurt.

Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Hagrid. I'm just... frustrated. Okay?"

Hagrid nodded, his expression softening. "I understand, Ollie. Malfoy's a nasty piece of work, but breaking things won't help. We'll deal with him in our way. Right now, we need to stick together."

Hermione moved closer to Oliver, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Thank you for standing up for me, Ollie. But Hagrid's right. We can't let Malfoy get to us like this."

Oliver took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his anger start to lift. "You're right. I just hate seeing you hurt, Hermione."

She smiled gently. "I know. And that means a lot to me."

The group sat in silence for a moment, the warmth of their friendship and the comforting presence of Hagrid's hut slowly easing the tension in the room.

Oliver's face was contorted with anger. "There's only one way I know how to deal with things. And it's killing someone. I would love nothing more than to snap his neck."

Hermione stepped closer, her voice firm but gentle. "No, Ollie. I need you to promise me that you won't do anything rash with Malfoy. Promise me now."

Oliver clenched his fists, his jaw tight. "I can't make that promise when he called you that."

Hagrid interjected, his tone calm and reassuring. "Hey, you're not stuck on an island anymore. You don't have to kill to survive, Ollie."

Oliver's frustration boiled over. "You too? Are you for real?" he shouted, slamming his hand down on the table, causing the teacups to rattle.

Hermione reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Oliver, please. We know you're trying to protect me, but violence isn't the answer here. We need to be smarter than that."

Hagrid nodded, his eyes kind. "Listen to her, Ollie. You're stronger than your anger. You've got friends now, and we'll face Malfoy together. But not like this."

Oliver took a deep breath, the weight of his friends' words slowly sinking in. He looked at Hermione, her eyes filled with concern and resolve. "Alright," he finally said, his voice softer. "I promise. I'll try to keep my cool."

Hermione smiled, relief washing over her. "Thank you, Ollie."

The tension in the room began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of solidarity. They knew they had each other's backs, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

An owl glided gracefully through the open window, clutching a letter in its beak. It hooted softly as it landed on Hagrid's outstretched arm.

Hagrid's eyes widened as he inspected the letter. "It's for you, Ollie," he said solemnly, passing the parchment to Oliver.

Oliver's heart sank as he scanned the official seal and broke the seal with a sense of dread. "Dear Mr. Queen," he read aloud, his voice strained. "If you are reading this letter, you are being charged with one count of assault and attempted murder with magic. Consequently, you may face expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a sentence of six years in Azkaban."

He looked up, his face pale and eyes filled with disbelief, as the weight of the accusation settled heavily upon him.

Hagrid peered over Oliver's shoulder, his expression filled with concern. "Blimey, Ollie. Attempted murder? That's serious business."

Oliver's hands trembled slightly as he folded the letter and set it down on the table, trying to collect his thoughts. "I didn't... I mean, I wouldn't..." His words faltered, frustration and anger building inside him.

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on Oliver's shoulder. "We know you wouldn't, Oliver. This is clearly a misunderstanding."

Harry, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "We'll figure this out. There must be some mistake."

Hagrid nodded vigorously. "Aye, we'll get to the bottom of it, don't you worry. Hogwarts wouldn't expel one of its own without a fair hearing."

Oliver forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore," he said finally, determination in his voice. "I have to sort this out."

Hagrid clapped him on the back. "Right then, let's go see him. I'll walk with you, Ollie."

As they made their way out of Hagrid's hut, Oliver's mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead. His future at Hogwarts, his reputation, and above all, proving his innocence weighed heavily on his mind.

In Dumbledore's office

As Oliver and Hagrid approached Dumbledore's office, Oliver's thoughts raced. He rehearsed what he would say, trying to keep his emotions in check. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he prepared to face the headmaster.

Dumbledore's office was as serene and enigmatic as ever, filled with moving portraits and the soft glow of magical instruments. The headmaster looked up from his desk with a knowing expression as Oliver and Hagrid entered.

"Ah, Mr. Queen, Hagrid," Dumbledore greeted them warmly, though his eyes held a hint of concern. "I presume this visit concerns the incident involving Mr. Malfoy?"

Oliver nodded his throat tight with anxiety. "Yes, Professor. I received this letter," he said, handing it over to Dumbledore.

The headmaster read the letter carefully, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he set it down on his desk and fixed his piercing blue eyes on Oliver. "I understand that you used the Bombarda spell on Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, but..." Oliver began, trying to explain.

Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him gently. "I am aware of the events that transpired, Mr. Queen. While I must commend your courage in defense of Miss Granger, the use of such a spell, particularly in this context, has serious consequences."

Oliver's heart sank. "But it was in defense. Malfoy insulted Hermione with a slur—"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I understand your motives, Mr. Queen. However, the Ministry views the use of magic in such a manner very seriously, especially within the grounds of Hogwarts. There will need to be an investigation, and you may face disciplinary action."

Hagrid stepped forward, his voice firm yet supportive. "But surely, Professor, Ollie was just protecting Hermione. He didn't mean to—"

Dumbledore sighed deeply, his gaze softening. "I believe Mr. Queen acted out of instinct, Hagrid. Nevertheless, rules must be followed. I will speak with the Ministry on your behalf, Mr. Queen, but you must understand the severity of the situation."

Oliver felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "What will happen now, Professor?"

Dumbledore leaned forward, his tone gentle but firm. "For now, I advise you to continue your studies as usual. I will do what I can to mitigate the consequences. Trust that I am on your side, Mr. Queen."

As Oliver and Hagrid left Dumbledore's office, Oliver's mind raced with uncertainty. Despite Dumbledore's assurances, he couldn't shake the fear of what lay ahead. His future at Hogwarts and the specter of Azkaban loomed ominously, and he knew that proving his innocence wouldn't be easy.

As Oliver and Hagrid descended from Dumbledore's office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on Oliver's shoulders. The castle corridors seemed quieter than usual, the portraits watching them with muted curiosity. Hagrid walked beside him, his large hand resting reassuringly on Oliver's shoulder.

"Ollie, don't you worry now," Hagrid said in his gruff voice, trying to offer comfort. "Professor Dumbledore'll sort this out. He's got a way with the Ministry, you know."

Oliver nodded, but his mind churned with worry. "I hope so, Hagrid. I just can't believe this is happening. All because of Malfoy's mouth."

Hagrid sighed sympathetically. "I know, lad. But yeh did what anyone would've done to defend Hermione. No one likes to hear that kind o' talk, 'specially not from the likes o' Malfoy."

They walked in silence for a while until they reached the Great Hall, where students were beginning to gather for lunch. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and the others were already seated at the Gryffindor table, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity as they watched Oliver and Hagrid approach.

Hermione stood up immediately, her expression one of deep concern. "Oliver, what happened? Are you okay?"

Oliver forced a weak smile, trying to reassure her. "I'll be fine, Hermione. Dumbledore's going to talk to the Ministry about it."

Ron stood up beside Hermione, his voice tense. "What did Dumbledore say?"

Oliver recounted the conversation briefly, omitting some of the more distressing details. "He's going to try to help, but there's going to be an investigation. They're taking it seriously."

Harry frowned, his brow furrowed with worry. "This is all because of Malfoy. I can't believe he got away with that."

Oliver clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. "He won't get away with it forever. I promise you that."

Just then, Professor McGonagall approached their table, her expression grave. "Mr. Queen, Professor Dumbledore has asked me to speak with you briefly."

Oliver nodded, his heart sinking further. He followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall, aware of the concerned glances from his friends following him.

Once they were in a quieter corridor, Professor McGonagall turned to face him, her demeanor serious. "Mr. Queen, I understand the circumstances surrounding your actions today. Professor Dumbledore is doing what he can, but I must impress upon you the importance of caution from now on."

Oliver nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on the stone floor. "I understand, Professor."

"I believe in your innocence, Mr. Queen," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "But we must let the investigation proceed. In the meantime, focus on your studies and avoid any further confrontations."

"I will, Professor," Oliver replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

"Good," Professor McGonagall said, her expression softening slightly. "You are a talented young wizard, Mr. Queen. Use your skills wisely."

As Oliver returned to the Gryffindor table, his mind raced with uncertainty about the future. The support of his friends and the assurance from Dumbledore and McGonagall offered some comfort, but the shadow of impending consequences loomed large. For now, all he could do was wait and hope that justice would prevail.

To be continued...