Chapter 17: 7-1

I wonder how many people in Hogwarts actually know how hard the floor of the Gryffindor common room is. Well, there is at least one person right here.

"I’ve said it many times, haven't I, Maria? You are cute. You have a very charming appearance for a girl. The fact that your common sense doesn't quite match your looks probably makes you even more irresistible to some people. …So? You headed to another House's boys' dormitory in the middle of the night and tried to stay there alone together? And from what I hear, you aren't even 'involved' with each other. Do you have any defense?"

"None at all."

I gave a small reply, sniffing back a sob, toward the girl standing over me with her arms akimbo. Ron watched on sympathetically, while Harry stood by with a strangely amused look in his eyes. Ron aside, Harry, what exactly is that look supposed to mean…?

Either way, the two of them, casually snacking on Chocolate Frogs, clearly had no intention of saving me from this angry goddess. Some best friend and brother they were.

Ah—but putting that aside—forgetting all of that—none of it matters because—

The numbness in my legs has reached its limit!!

My personal hell began the moment the Christmas holidays ended.

It was Draco. Draco actually followed through on his word. In other words, he tatted. As expected, Malfoy was a coward through and through.

Honestly, if the snitching had been aimed only at Harry, it would have been fine. Because he’s Harry. At most, he would’ve said, "Maria tried to stay in Draco’s room? I’m so jealous!" or something like that.

But Hermione was a different story. You see, girls don't usually take those kinds of jokes well. Even my own Lily Luna used to give her brothers the coldest looks whenever they caused a ruckus. Ginny, too.

And as expected, Hermione Granger—the representative of all girls—erupted. She has this bad habit of being overly eager to give Maria a "proper lady's education." I don't know what kind of strange books she read over the break, but out of pure curiosity, she pointed at the floor and told me to sit. I’ve been in this state for an hour now... specifically, I was on the floor of the Gryffindor common room—with the rug pulled back for extra discomfort—undergoing a "Foreign Punishment" known as Seiza. Ugh.

As I hung my head weakly, a triumphant Hermione looked down at me, her chin tilted at that familiar, haughty angle. Oh no. Here comes the second round of the "Machine-Gun Lecture."

"It’s a good thing Malfoy was a gentleman, but you—you—no, wait, maybe Malfoy is responsible for this too... Harry, you too! Why did you let her get to this point?"

"Um, Hermione?"

"Fine, I’ll investigate that later. Anyway, Maria, first is you. I know you’re indifferent about your own gender. I’ve been studying how complex gender issues can be. So, I’m not going to tell you to 'act like a girl' or anything like that. But at the very least, you need to realize that your body is female. You should know that not every man in the world is as kind as Malfoy or Harry."

"Like Fred, for example."

"George is a good example, too."

"Be quiet, you two—the twins who actually cause problems!"

The twins, who had been lingering around us making noise, immediately chimed in, only to be ruthlessly shut down by the younger girl. I couldn't help but snicker as they shrugged exaggeratedly and mimed zipping their lips. Stop it, you guys. I was trying so hard to look repentant. See? Now Hermione is glaring at me because of you.

(By the way, since we are definitely the "Problem-Causing Twins," the ones Hermione considers the "Non-Problem-Causing Twins" are surely the Patil sisters.)

"Maria, you’re usually so reliable for your age... why are you so hopeless with things like this...?"

Hermione, who should have been refreshed after visiting her Muggle parents (who are dentists, I believe), started clutching her head. Sensing a disaster about to strike, Harry and Ron exchanged a perfect glance and made their escape. Hey! That’s cheating! Take me with you!

—But my internal lament and Hermione’s seemingly endless lecture were cut short by something entirely unexpected.

"“NICOLAS FLAMEL!!”"

The two traitors who had just fled the common room came sprinting back, clutching a pentagonal card. It was a Famous Wizard Card—the kind found in Chocolate Frogs that every wizarding child knows.

It seems they finally pulled the Dumbledore card that mentions Nicolas Flamel. All that effort eating Chocolate Frogs with Ron, Harry, and even Neville had finally paid off.

(On a side note, I kept pulling Newt Scamander cards, so I gave them to some Hufflepuffs, who were absolutely delighted. Yes, I did a good deed.)

"Nicolas Flamel? We’re not talking about that right now. We’ll go to the library later. More importantly, Harry, I have a few things to say to you, too..."

"It’s not that, Hermione! This—look at this!"

Giving the excited Harry a suspicious look, Hermione took the card. The next moment, her eyes widened, and she grabbed the two of them, dragging them off to a corner of the common room. Poor Maria was completely abandoned. ...You guys aren't even trying to hide the fact that you're plotting something from me anymore, are you?

"“Maa-ria.”"

In exchange for Hermione, the red-headed twins crept over. With practiced ease, they released the minor magical binding Hermione had placed on me. They were way too good at this. I bet this is how they always escape Filch and the professors.

"Are you two plotting mischief as well? Fred, George."

"“Is there ever a time when we aren't plotting?”"

"Fair point."

With the twins' help, I took the opportunity to flee from Hermione’s reach. My legs were still throbbing as I headed down the stairs. Is it true that every Japanese household uses this kind of torture on naughty children? The Far East is terrifying.

In any case, with my legs feeling unsteady, I was firmly caught by the twins and led away—to the Quidditch pitch.

...Uh, I could understand if it were Harry, but why was I, Maria, here?

"Maria, you’re a favorite of Snape’s. Right?"

It was George who spoke up, imitating Percy’s pompous tone. I tilted my head in confusion.

"No, not at all."

"No way. Ron says it all the time: 'He’s always finding excuses to pick on Harry, but he never says anything to Maria! It’s a crime!'"

This time, Fred imitated Ron’s high-pitched complaining.

"Okay, okay, let’s just assume that’s the case."

In reality, the man was simply ignoring Maria’s existence entirely, but the reasons for that were so complicated that I couldn't explain them here. ...Also, if I told these two about the various relationships involved, they’d find it way too entertaining and make my life a nightmare. I still haven't forgiven them for the nickname!

However.

"—So, what do you want me to do?"

If Professor Snape had passed by at that moment, he probably would have shouted a point deduction at Maria instinctively, seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes—eyes that looked exactly like the man he hated with all his soul.

Finding the same spark in her hazel eyes that they possessed, the twins grinned like Cheshire Cats who had just found their destination.

"“That’s the spirit.”"

The twins' request was simple. For some reason, Snape had announced he would be the referee for the next match—Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff. They wanted Maria, his "favorite" (huge misunderstanding...), to stop him. And if she could do it in a "funny" way, even better.

It was a reckless demand to make against a teacher’s decision, but I could sympathize with their feelings. After all, I, as Harry, had once been the one worrying about this very problem.

In short, there was a massive suspicion that Snape would never referee fairly against Gryffindor. The blame for this rested entirely on Professor Snape, who never bothered to hide his hatred for Gryffindors (and his favoritism for Slytherins).

Well, what to do...? I leaned my cheek on my hand at a small table, devouring biscuits and muffins presented to me by the House-elves. Even while distracted, they tasted amazing. The House-elves, whose purpose in life is service, truly do great work.

"Mistress! Would Mistress like seconds!"

"Mistress! Would Mistress like more tea!"

"Mistress! Does the taste please Mistress!"

I nodded to the questions coming from all directions, feeling healed by the sight of the House-elves scurrying around endearingly with their slightly broken, overly polite speech. Once you get used to the squeaky voices, they’re quite cute.

Then.

"Maria, you’re here again. You’ve really settled in. Your robes might start looking yellow soon."

I met a familiar face in the Hogwarts kitchens—a place mostly known only to Hufflepuffs since the entrance is right by their common room. (My Newt Scamander card bribe had come in handy here). It was a Hufflepuff upperclassman, Cedric Diggory. Ever since we happened to share a table here once, we had become friendly enough to greet each other.

Sincere and gentle, he was the most well-adjusted boy Maria knew, even including my 'previous' life. I’ve had nothing but a good impression of him since we met.

"Thanks to this place, I’m putting on some weight."

"That’s good news. You were a bit too slim."

Smiling at the House-elves who gallantly provided a chair for him, the boy sat down at the table as if it were the most natural thing in the world. We were close enough now that we didn't need to ask permission.

"The next match is Hufflepuff against Gryffindor, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I’ll be playing against your famous brother. He’s called a prodigy, and from the eyes of a fellow Seeker, I can tell that’s no exaggeration. I’m really looking forward to it."

"Wow... you really are Cedric, aren't you?"

"What kind of reaction is that?"

When I slumped my shoulders in mock exhaustion at the boy's sheer purity, a cushion was immediately tucked behind my back. How attentive can one person be? I’m going to end up wanting to live here. Hufflepuff is playing dirty.

"I’ve thought this for a while, but Maria... you’re quite a, well... affectionate person, aren't you?"

"You think so?"

"I do. I don't have any siblings, but I feel like I’m looking after a younger sister. You’re very good at being pampered."

"Hmm, that’s... only because it’s you, Cedric."

"Eh?"

"Because it’s you, I feel safe being myself. If it were a total stranger, I wouldn't be this vulnerable. But Cedric is... well, Cedric is Cedric."

Cedric blinked in surprise at my casual remark. Then, he broke into a very happy, crinkly-eyed smile.

He had a kind face that still held a hint of childhood. I really do like you, Cedric. ...To the point where the wound from the day I lost you will never truly heal.

"Maria is a cute, good girl. And the brother such a girl is proud of must be a wonderful person, too. Now I’m looking forward to it even more."

At his 100% pure goodwill, devoid of any ulterior motives, my heart felt tickled. I smiled back, feeling a bit shy. And then, a thought occurred to me.

"—You want to play fair, don't you, Cedric?"

"...? Of course."

"Just so you know, Snape is the referee."

"............That... well, he certainly is a man of 'distinct' tastes..."

"You want to play fair, don't you?"

"...Maria?"

"Will you be my accomplice?"

A beat. Cedric blinked his clear gray eyes again. Eventually, he wore the kind of smile he had been showing more often since meeting Maria and answered.

"Sure. Because you look like you're having fun, Maria."

Ah, Cedric Diggory—a paragon of goodness through and through.

On the day of the match, I saw my brother off to the changing rooms, looking as tragic and defeated as if he were heading to his execution. I spotted Cedric in his uniform across the way and gave him a wink that said, "I’m counting on you." Cedric winked back playfully. Feeling relieved, I was about to head to the Gryffindor stands when my "clients"—the twins—kidnapped me again in their usual style. They weren't in their uniforms yet.

"Maria, oh Maria, our Princess. The Beauty of Gryffindor."

"What was that just now?"

"That Cedric Diggory..."

"...Winked at you?"

"How tragic—has our Lion Princess been snatched away by the Prince of Badgers! Even that obnoxious Snake Prince would be better than this!"

I shut them up physically, channeling my inner Hermione as they clamored with the same faces and voices. I wondered how many times the old Hermione had silenced Malfoy this way. Truly, our Hermione is a legend.

"Stop with the wild guesses. It’s rude to both of him and me. —Cedric is just a collaborator this time."

"“Cedric Diggory is a collaborator??”"

"Yes. Just watch. We couldn't stop Professor Snape from refereeing... but fair play is guaranteed."

After all, there was a reason Professor Snape had volunteered to referee this match. It was all to protect Harry’s life. I couldn't very well stop that.

—But well. That’s one thing, and this is another, right?

I shoved the two skeptical Beaters toward the changing room after Harry and returned to the stands. I was practically vibrating with mischief, waiting for it to start. Ah—Father, your blood is definitely flowing through my veins.

The whistle blew, marking the start of the match. Harry seemed to have spotted Dumbledore in the stands, as his flying showed no more hesitation or anxiety. Back in the day, I—as Harry—thought Snape was trying to kill me. I blindly believed that as long as Dumbledore was there, everything would be fine.

Professor Snape only cared about Harry’s life being protected, so naturally, he had no passion for the game itself. Just as everyone feared, he immediately found a reason to penalize a Gryffindor player and gave Hufflepuff a penalty shot—and then, the incident occurred.

"““!?””"

A ripple of confusion went through the stadium. Everyone’s gaze stretched toward a single point, like beams of light from a wand. —Toward Severus Snape’s head.

The players were so shocked they stopped moving (resulting in Angelina, forgetting her brakes, crashing into Alicia). Professor Snape narrowed his eyes. As he did, it moved in sync with his displeasure.

"............Ears."

The nameless Gryffindor sitting next to me muttered. I nodded deeply with a sense of accomplishment.

Yes. The moment he gave Hufflepuff an unjustified penalty, something strange grew on Professor Snape’s head. —Black cat ears.

The adorable cat ears—the person they were attached to wasn't adorable at all—vanished after a few seconds. The stadium, wondering if they had seen a hallucination, finally found its voice again as the Hufflepuff players began to move sluggishly. Only I, Cedric, and Dumbledore were wearing knowing grins.

Before long, the "second time" arrived. Another groundless penalty was given to Hufflepuff and—Pop.

"Pffft—!?"

The Hufflepuff Captain, who was close to Snape, finally burst out laughing. Because this time, black rabbit ears had sprouted on Snape’s head.

The two Weasleys turned toward my section of the stands with startled faces. I gave them a confident thumbs-up. —Yes, as you suspected, this was our doing.

The idea had come to me while I was gorging on biscuits in the kitchen. If Professor Snape didn't intend to referee fairly, I just had to create a situation where he had to. I had the House-elves, with their special magic, prepare something.

Biscuits cursed with: "If the person acts against their conscience, they grow animal ears." (I got the idea from looking at the House-elves' non-human ears.)

No matter how powerful Snape was, he was no match for the magic of House-elves, which follows different laws than human magic.

And one more thing. I mustn't forget my collaborator—no, my accomplice, Cedric Diggory.

Cedric was the one who got Snape to eat the elf-made biscuits (the plan was that Snape wouldn't suspect the star student Cedric; it was perfect). And the one actually causing the various cute ears to sprout was also Cedric. We had set it up so that whenever Cedric, who lives by fair play, felt "Ah, that wasn't fair just now," the weird ears would automatically appear.

Anyway, back to the story.

The rabbit ears vanished as quickly as the cat ears, but Snape had clearly realized something was wrong.

The players' faces were a mix of confusion and suppressed laughter. The Weasley twins were literally crying with laughter, slapping each other's shoulders. The stadium was hushed again. Dumbledore was beaming. —The whole thing was incredibly suspicious. Especially the last one.

By the time the third pair of ears appeared (very specifically deer ears with antlers), the Professor finally figured out the trick. He glared fiercely—at Harry. If anyone had ever been told that a gaze could kill, they were looking at it now. It was that intense.

In response, the truly innocent Harry had a face that said, "Why me!?" Which was only natural. Even that sight was hilarious to me. After all, Severus Snape was currently grinding his teeth at Harry Potter while wearing black antlers and twitching his ears. Ah, how could I not laugh?

This time, peering through my binoculars, my heart felt clearer than ever. Father, Sirius—if you're going to pull a prank, it has to be something fun that doesn't hurt anyone, right?

Under Snape’s glare, Harry caught the Snitch in record time. At that moment, I’m sure Snape was actually grateful to Harry for ending the match so quickly. ...Just kidding.

After giving a high-five and congratulations to Harry, who was being carried on the shoulders of Gryffindors, I ran over to Cedric, who looked disappointed but refreshed.

"Cedric!"

"Maria."

A big high-five for Cedric, too. It was filled with gratitude and praise for the success of our operation. Being as sharp as he is, he surely understood.

"Congratulations, Gryffindor. Harry really was strong. And... thanks to you, I was so excited. I’ve never had a match like that in my life."

"Glad I could provide you with a 'first time' experience."

We giggled together in words only we understood. I had managed to drag the Cedric Diggory into the world of pranking—could anything be more fun?

"“You two look awfully cozy in public, don't you?”"

Suddenly, a smooth unison of weight landed on Cedric’s and my shoulders. Needless to say, it was the two "clients."

"You’re quite the reasonable fellow, aren't you, Prince of Hufflepuff?"

"Isn't she the best? Our Princess. Is this where a fight breaks out between the Prince and the Nobleman for her hand?"

"Fred... George..."

Facing the "Second Generation Marauders" who had clearly found a new toy, I delivered a physical "Hermione-style punch" and a "Ginny-style slap" to both of them, under the pretext of protecting the sacrificial lamb, Cedric.

Honestly, naughty pranksters are the same in every era!