Professor Bramble cleared his throat, ever so softly, as if that alone could distract from the psychic intensity radiating off East like heat from a sunlit crystal. "Well, if you look at the, ah, broader context—"
"There was no context, Bramble," East cut in, not unkindly, but very much like someone about to grade a test with a red quill dipped in disappointment. "There was an event, and it was forbidden. Contextually speaking, that makes you all… law-breaking spell hooligans."
Professor Cedric remained silent, the tension in his shoulders betraying the calm he tried so desperately to emulate. Each breath he drew felt strained, as though the air in the chamber had grown thick with suspicion.
He knew for a fact that East already knew what they did—IN DETAILS. He knew it would happen, because if he don't, he'd never become the Grandmaster.
