Chapter 83: 83: The Beloved "Dangling Bell" of All Young Wizards

Before long, the news of Nolan's groundbreaking transfiguration spell spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts. Students across all houses were eager to get a glimpse of this new form of magic. Some were curious, hoping to witness firsthand what made it so special. Others—perhaps more envious—simply wanted to pry open the Slytherin prince's head to see what exactly was ticking inside to make him so brilliant. Yet, despite the mounting interest, Nolan seemed to vanish from public eye. His movements became increasingly elusive, and he would disappear the moment classes ended. Even Eve Stock, who was practically glued to his side, couldn't find him. In reality, Nolan was pouring all his time into refining his enchanted gloves. Professor Babbling had been thoroughly impressed with his craftsmanship. While she didn't fully grasp the intricacies of the gears and mechanisms he used, she marveled at his profound understanding of ancient runes. But to Nolan, her praise wasn't enough. The gloves he envisioned weren't just tools for convenience—they were supposed to be powerful, powerful enough to challenge the dominance of wands. A mere three spell capacity felt limiting. Nolan wanted more—at least five or six spells at his fingertips. And so, the young vampire spent day and night holed up in Professor Babbling's office, poring over rune configurations in search of a more efficient layout. After relentless trial and error, he finally succeeded. Nolan managed to embed a fourth spell into the glove alongside the Blasting Curse, Shield Charm, and Disarming Charm. Unfortunately, due to the limitations of rune inscriptions, the fourth spell was... odd. Not only was it unsuitable for combat, but it was also obscure—rarely mentioned in standard spellbooks. "My dear boy, you've done more than enough," Professor Babbling reassured him as she dangled upside down from the ceiling, having been accidentally snared by the glove's latest enchantment. Despite the mishap, she showed no signs of irritation. On the contrary, she beamed at Nolan's breakthrough. "I dare say there isn't a more brilliant magical engineer in this entire century." With a flick of his wand, Nolan dispelled the enchantment and gently lowered Babbling to the floor using a Levitation Charm. He sighed. "It just... suspends people in the air. I don't see the point. Why bother with that when I could just hit them with a Disarming Charm?" But Nolan would soon learn exactly how useful this peculiar spell could be. Later that afternoon, on his way to the Great Hall, he heard a familiar sound—soft, muffled crying echoing through the corridor. Nolan followed the noise and found Draco Malfoy sprawled across the stone floor, his pale hair catching the dim light. The Slytherin boy had clearly been humiliated, his wand gone, and his body rigid with petrification. His faint whimpers escaped in trembling gasps. Standing over him were the unmistakable Weasley twins, their wands lazily twirling between their fingers. For some reason, Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere in sight—leaving Draco alone, outnumbered, and defenseless. "Listen up, Malfoy," one twin sneered. "You'd better stay away from Harry." "Jealousy doesn't suit you," the other added with a grin. "Everyone knows what kind of people you Malfoys are." "Stop picking fights with Harry, and stay away from our little brother too. Ron's an idiot, but he's our idiot." The twins jabbed Draco's petrified form with their wands, taking turns with their taunts. Nolan could see the long-standing feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys playing out before his eyes. The elder Malfoy and Arthur Weasley never got along, and now their children were carrying on the same grudge. The difference, however, was stark. Draco was alone, while the Weasleys, as always, came in packs. Nolan let out a long sigh and stepped forward. "Step aside, twins," he said coolly, cracking his knuckles. Then, without bothering to draw his wand, he snapped his fingers—his glove glinting faintly under his robes. With a loud yelp, one of the twins—whether it was Fred or George, Nolan couldn't be sure—flipped upside down as though he'd slipped on ice. His limbs flailed wildly as he was hoisted into the air, dangling from the ceiling like a fish on a hook. "Wha—HEY!" Fred (or George) twisted awkwardly, trying to swat at the invisible force holding him aloft, but to no avail. His brother could only stare in stunned silence, his wand hand twitching uncertainly. "I said walk away," Nolan repeated, calm but firm. He gestured lazily with his enchanted hand. "Unless you want to join him up there." "Cool!" one of the twins immediately shouted. "Nolan, how did you do that? Can you teach me?" The one dangling from the ceiling flailed and yelled, "George, you idiot! Get me down first! Nolan, I want to learn too!" "That's just the Levicorpus spell. It's not hard to learn," Nolan replied as he lazily reversed the Petrificus Totalus on Malfoy. The poor boy, trembling like a frightened mouse, darted behind Nolan the moment he regained movement. "No, I mean—how did you do it without saying the spell or using a wand? You just snapped your fingers and—bam! That was incredible! Nolan, I always knew you were a genius!" George was practically buzzing with excitement. "Shut your mouth, George! Get me down first!" From that day on, the twins wouldn't leave Nolan alone, pestering him endlessly for a pair of magic gloves just like his. Eventually, after days of relentless badgering, Nolan caved. He made two gloves—each enchanted with nothing but Levicorpus—and handed them over. The twins were ecstatic. They used their entire year's allowance—a grand total of five Galleons—to purchase the downgraded versions. And just like that, the era of enchanted gloves began at Hogwarts. Soon, word spread, and students from every house came begging Nolan for gloves of their own. Everyone dreamed of snapping their fingers and dangling their enemies from the ceiling, just like the Weasley twins. Driven to the brink of madness by the constant harassment, Nolan once again disappeared. Two days later, he resurfaced in Transfiguration class, dumping a box of twenty enchanted gloves into Miles Bletchley's hands. "Sell them for me," he said flatly before vanishing once more. The first batch sold out in less than an hour. Chaos erupted as students scrambled to get their hands on the gloves. A full-blown black market emerged in the corridors of Hogwarts. The gloves' price skyrocketed from four Galleons to an astonishing ten by the end of the week. Those lucky enough to acquire a glove walked the halls with unparalleled pride. No one dared mess with them. They flaunted Nolan's craftsmanship at every opportunity—and naturally, "demonstrations" often followed. The result? Hogwarts echoed constantly with the sharp snap of fingers, followed by delighted shrieks and the sound of robes swishing as unlucky victims were hoisted into the air. "So cool!" everyone cried in unison. Even those dangling upside down laughed at the absurdity of it all. This bizarre trend swept the school like wildfire. Whether during class, after hours, or even in the Great Hall during meals, students couldn't resist testing out their gloves. One evening, Dumbledore sat at the staff table, chuckling softly. His goblet of pumpkin juice remained untouched as he watched nearly thirty students suspended from the ceiling like dangling sausages. Meanwhile, Snape's voice thundered across the hall. "Enough! You fools! I forbid the use of Nolan's ridiculous contraptions within the castle! Anyone caught using them again will serve detention!" No sooner had the words left Snape's mouth than he, too, was yanked into the air. His black robes fluttered as he dangled upside down, legs crossed in a vain attempt to preserve his dignity. From above, Snape's outraged shouting echoed across the Great Hall.