This weekend, the school allowed students to visit Hogsmeade. To prevent anyone from sneaking out under the guise of joining the group, a few professors were usually assigned to verify the parental permission slips.
The main person responsible for this task was Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall had been busy with this for nearly the entire morning before finally returning to her office to carve out some time for her own work.
She sat at her desk, working on a paper on Transfiguration—a topic she had previously discussed with Eda. Once finished, she intended to publish it with Eda's name included as a co-author.
This was Professor McGonagall paving the way for Eda in the academic field of Transfiguration. If Eda decided to pursue an academic path in the future, this paper would serve as her stepping stone.
If the paper were published under Eda's name alone, it would likely attract a swarm of so-called "experts" tearing her to shreds as an obscure, inexperienced rookie.
Professor McGonagall remembered clearly how Bathsheda Babbling was viciously criticized when she published a paper on runes independently.
She didn't want Eda to go through the same abuse, worried Eda might lose control and storm off to knock on the doors of those critics via the Floo Network—one by one. She was even more worried she herself would follow behind Eda, knocking on those doors again.
By publishing it under her own name, with Eda's added alongside, all those concerns disappeared.
Haah.. I was worried about her, but with her hard work and talent, she'll be a successful witch in the future.
Anyone bold enough to criticize Professor McGonagall in the field of Transfiguration likely had something wrong with their head.
Just as Professor McGonagall was writing furiously, Quirrell arrived at her office, tearfully complaining about the atrocities committed by Eda and the twins.
"...."
Quirrell's sobbing appearance was truly pitiful, enough to move anyone to sorrow and tears. It was as if Eda and the twins had committed some unforgivable crime. While he was at it, he also poured out all the times he had been bullied by other students before.
After listening to these emotional and tearful accusations, Professor McGonagall didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. On the contrary, she was struggling to keep from showing a look of disdain.
A professor. A grown man. Bullied by his own students for half a semester, and all he could do was come crying to the deputy headmistress to complain—McGonagall swore she had never seen anything more disgraceful.
Quirrell, with his oversized head, continued to weep.
That turban of his made his head look even bigger—and made him look all the more foolish. But McGonagall wasn't listening at all; her mind had already wandered off the moment she heard Eda's name.
That Eda would be involved in bullying Quirrell didn't surprise McGonagall in the slightest. In fact, it felt perfectly natural.
If Eda hadn't been involved, McGonagall would have found that strange.
Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't angry. No matter what, Quirrell was still a professor at the school. Eda shouldn't have treated a teacher that way—it was wrong.
Professor McGonagall wrote a short note and folded the piece of paper into the shape of a paper airplane. Enchanted by magic, the airplane flew out of the office, and about fifteen minutes later, Eda and the twins appeared before her.
Inside the second-floor office of the castle, there were now five people, making the already small space feel rather cramped. Eda and the twins stood in front of Professor McGonagall with their heads bowed, their attitudes very earnest as they admitted their fault.
That expression on their faces—Professor McGonagall was all too familiar with it.
She had seen it for three years now.
Every time they made a mistake, it was the same: admit the fault, correct it, then repeat it again!
Those who knew the situation understood that Professor McGonagall was educating her students. Those who didn't might think she was forging steel through repeated hammering.
With their heads lowered, Eda, Fred, and George obediently accepted Professor McGonagall's stern lecture. Under her watchful gaze, they also expressed their most sincere apologies to the pitiful Professor Quirrell.
Looking at the trio apologizing to him, Quirrell's face lit up with delight, and he graciously forgave their actions. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that these three standing before him had already seen right through him.
Even though Eda had her head down and her long golden hair covered most of her face, Quirrell still caught a glimpse of her eyes.
That look seemed to say: Go ahead, keep pretending. I want to see how long you can keep it up.
Feeling exposed, Quirrell didn't dare stay in the office any longer. He made up an excuse and quickly left—Eda's gaze had made his heart tremble.
Once Quirrell was gone, the office fell into silence. Professor McGonagall looked at the three before her with a headache—she really didn't know what to do with them.
The twins were impervious to both scolding and reasoning. Hoping to get them to behave was nearly impossible—unless the sun rose from the west. Eda, on the other hand, used to respond to kindness but not harshness. But ever since the incident with the broomstick, it seemed she no longer responded to either.
Yes, Professor McGonagall had finally realized that Eda wasn't feeling unwell—she was sulking with her.
Although Professor McGonagall had realized that Eda was sulking with her, she still didn't know the reason. It wasn't until a professional reminded her that she finally identified the real "culprit": the broomstick.
Eda's childish behavior made Professor McGonagall feel both exasperated and amused.
She was annoyed that Eda would sulk over something so trivial, yet she also found it funny—this child clearly cared deeply about her.
"I just don't understand—why is it always the three of you involved in everything?" Professor McGonagall asked as she removed her glasses.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall had no idea that aside from the three in front of her, there were still three first-years who would bring her even more headaches in the future.
"Believe me, Professor, I've been asking myself the same question for over two years," Fred said, his expression solemn, as if he were truly troubled by it.
Mischief practically defined Fred and George's lives. Eda swore Fred was absolutely full of it.
The corners of Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched slightly before she continued, "Now, tell me—what happened this time?"
After saying that, she added, "And don't try to fool me with one of your lousy excuses."
On their way to the office, the three had made up a story and agreed on a unified version. Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall had already anticipated their move—their carefully crafted excuse was now useless.
The three exchanged a glance—they knew they had no choice but to tell the truth. So Eda stepped forward and recounted their suspicions about Quirrell and all the things they had done to test him.
"So, you threw snowballs at Quirrell just to test if he would expose himself?" Professor McGonagall asked. She felt that the situation had already gone far beyond what Dumbledore had anticipated.
"Yes, Professor. We believe Quirrell is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, so we wanted to force him to slip up," George said, casually dropping the name of the Philosopher's Stone.
Professor McGonagall had known the situation had gone beyond expectations, but she hadn't expected it to go this far.
What the...
Who let slip the information about the Stone?
Hagrid?
Professor McGonagall turned into a stammering Quirrell as she asked, "H-How do you know about… the ehm.. Philosopher's Stone?"
"Not just us—Harry Potter knows too," Eda added, giving Professor McGonagall another shock.
"I asked you and Professor Snape so many times, and you never told me anything. If it hadn't been for the 'Boy Who Lived,' we'd still be completely in the dark!"
Professor McGonagall didn't speak for a long while.
She needed a moment to process this astonishing news. At the same time, she silently blamed Quirrell for being so useless—how could he be found out so easily?
What good was he for anything?
"I don't care how you found out about the Philosopher's Stone or how you came to that conclusion," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "What comes next has nothing to do with you. The Philosopher's Stone will be protected with the utmost security. No one can steal it from under Dumbledore's nose!"
"But Professor, even if I don't get involved—"
"That's enough, Miss Twist!" Professor McGonagall interrupted her sharply. "Are my words just going in one ear and out the other? Didn't I tell you not to go near that area?"
"Uh… yes…"
"Then what did you do?"
Eda had no response. Not only had she gone there, she'd also seen the three-headed dog—and she'd even had the idea of opening the trapdoor to take a look below.
Finally managing to subdue this little troublemaker, Professor McGonagall let out a breath of relief in her heart.
She continued, "Now, return to your dormitories. If I catch you discussing the Philosopher's Stone again, you can look forward to spending all your time with Filch!"
Facing such a stern Professor McGonagall, Eda and the twins had no choice but to leave the office. But of course, they'd still discuss the Philosopher's Stone—McGonagall couldn't watch them all the time!
"Fuu.."
After kicking the three troublemakers out of her office, Professor McGonagall tried to return to her paper. But she couldn't calm her mind enough to write a single word.
Putting away her unfinished essay, Professor McGonagall hurried out of her office.
She needed to speak with Dumbledore—this plan was now putting students in danger and needed to be adjusted.
Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon: Dragonel