Chapter Forty-Eight: Miranda's Dilemma

Miranda saw the speechless look on Siwen’s face and burst out laughing.
“All right, I’ll stop teasing you. I was just practicing the Vanishing Spell. It’s part of this year’s wizarding qualification exam syllabus,” she explained.
Mentioning the Vanishing Spell reminded Siwen of something, so he asked, “If you cast the Vanishing Spell on me, would I disappear entirely?”
Miranda looked at him as if he were a fool. “If the Vanishing Spell worked like that, dark wizards would’ve used it long ago. But have you ever seen a wizard fighting with the Vanishing Spell?”
“You must remember Gamp’s Fundamental Law of Transfiguration: magic can’t be created or destroyed out of thin air. So the Vanishing Spell doesn’t work on wizards or magical creatures!” Miranda stated.
“That makes sense,” Siwen nodded, then asked suddenly, “But it can work on Muggles, right?”
“How did you come up with that?” Miranda looked at him, astonished. “There are plenty of ways to deal with non-magical beings. Why bother with a costly transfiguration spell? A weaker version of the Stunning Spell would do the trick, and you’re making it so complicated.”
Siwen gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I just wanted to understand how it works…”
Miranda pursed her lips, annoyed. “So, what did you come to see me about? Surely you didn’t just want to interrupt my spell practice?”
“Of course not.” Siwen shook his head, his expression serious. “You asked me about our family’s branch in France before. I’ve got news.”
Miranda became solemn as well. “Well? Any developments?”
Siwen replied, “So far, all I know is that the French branch’s finances have been behaving oddly lately. No other news.”
Miranda nodded. “That’s enough. It proves that the Dark Lord Grindelwald is preparing to make a move soon.”
Siwen’s mouth twitched. “Are you sure you should be so certain? After all, it’s still our family…”
“Don’t you think the financial irregularities are connected to Grindelwald?” Miranda raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, maybe,” Siwen rubbed his nose, not quite convinced. “Or maybe it’s just some investment business?”
“Don’t be naïve. Why would they hide an investment from the British branch of their own family?” Miranda replied, exasperated.

“Alright,” Siwen conceded, nodding in resignation.
Seeing him finally accept the truth, Miranda relaxed a little and asked, “Have you told the professor about this?”
“Not yet,” Siwen shook his head. “It’s hard to speak about family matters with outsiders, and it feels a bit like leaking family secrets.”
“So you leaked your family secrets to me?” Miranda looked at him with a sly, half-smile.
“It’s different.” Siwen shrugged. “You’ve helped me a lot, after all, and we get along well enough. Friends discussing family business isn’t a big deal, right?”
‘Besides, I really don’t want to tell the old headmaster about my family myself. Who knows if he’ll suspect me again after he already wronged my soul?’ Siwen added silently to himself.
“Thank you for your trust, Siwen.” Miranda smiled, then became serious. “But I’m sorry—as prefect, I have to report this to the school.”
“It’s fine,” Siwen replied indifferently.
After all, this involved the Dark Lord, and keeping it to himself would hardly be appropriate. If he held it back and things went wrong, it’d be disastrous.
Giving Miranda the chance to report it prevented him from facing the headmaster directly, and also repaid her for lending him her notes—a rather good outcome.
Miranda hesitated, then said, “Since you treated this like friends chatting about family, it’s only right I tell you about mine.”
“I was just making conversation, you don’t have to take it seriously,” Siwen said, startled.
Miranda shook her head. “It’s different. You don’t know how important this information is to me.”
“Headmaster Dippet assigned all the prefects to find clues about the destroyed magic nodes. The prefect who finds a clue will make a significant contribution to the school.”
“With this crucial information, as long as my grades stay at the top of the year, I can outshine Cedrella Black and become Student Council President in seventh year.”
“Is being Student Council President that important?” Siwen asked, somewhat confused.
“It is, for me.” Miranda nodded. “You see, I was born into a poor family, with many children. I’m the youngest of nine sisters.”

“We were already struggling when I was born, and now we don’t have any savings at all. I’ve always had to wear my sisters’ hand-me-down robes.”
Siwen recalled that Miranda’s clothes and books were indeed quite old; he’d always thought it was because she was frugal by nature.
“But your ball gown was quite nice at the dance,” Siwen remarked.
“Yes, Professor Slughorn invited me to join the club, but I had no dress and became the ‘center of attention’ at the ball.” She said quietly. “He gave me that gown as a Christmas gift. I’m really grateful to him for that.”
Siwen had never experienced the embarrassment of being looked at differently because of his clothes. But imagining it, he guessed it must have been very unpleasant.
He wanted to comfort her, but found himself lacking the skill, opening his mouth and failing to find any words.
“So, as a pureblood aristocrat, would you still be willing to be friends with a witch from a poor family?” Miranda hadn’t noticed Siwen’s awkwardness, and forced a somewhat stiff smile.
“I’m not like those purebred Slytherins—I almost got sorted into Ravenclaw, you know!” Siwen joked, pulling a silly face.
Miranda laughed, her mood brightening. “Ravenclaw would never take such a lazy little wizard.”
Then she grew serious again. “Both prefects and Student Council Presidents get stipends—it would make my life much easier. So now you see how important your information is to me!”
Siwen nodded thoughtfully, finally thinking of a good way to comfort her.
“So, you should publish a book!” he said enthusiastically. “I could be your investor, and help you publish your ‘Book of Spells’!”
“I guarantee it’ll be chosen as Hogwarts’ textbook next year!”
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