After parting ways with Harry, I, Hermione Granger, began gathering information.
Since it was Sunday, the entire school felt livelier than usual. Even so, the main topic of conversation was, as expected, the champions. Opinions varied widely depending on the person. Some were supportive, while others were critical.
Starting with Hufflepuff, the general mood was largely negative. Perhaps because Cedric and Ester, who were personally close to Elaina, were trying to smooth things over with patience and tolerance, things appeared calm on the surface. Still, there was no stopping the gossip behind the scenes.
In Ravenclaw, there were voices praising the ingenuity it took to break through the Age Line, but there were also criticisms condemning the cheating and unwanted attention. Overall, Elaina, who had tried every possible method through trial and error, tended to have more defenders. Harry, on the other hand, who kept insisting, "I didn't do it," drew more criticism.
When it came to Gryffindor, the number of Harry supporters and Elaina critics increased, while in Slytherin the situation was reversed.
What surprised me personally was that even within Gryffindor and Slytherin, there were a certain number of students criticizing Harry and Elaina, respectively.
"Don't you think Elaina's been going a bit too far lately?"
As I walked down the corridor, I heard that voice coming from the courtyard and instinctively stopped. Peeking out from behind a corner, I saw a group of older Slytherin girls gathered together.
"Yeah, you think so too? I've felt that way as well, but it's kind of hard to say it out loud."
"Right? Everyone around her is from famous pure-blood families."
"I'm sure she doesn't mean any harm, but I wish she'd show a little more restraint."
It seemed Slytherin was not as united as it appeared.
The fourth-years, who had an unusually high number of students from prominent pure-blood families, were firmly in Elaina's camp, which tilted the house as a whole toward supporting her. Still, there seemed to be noticeable differences in attitude depending on the year.
"But it can't be helped. Elaina's cute."
"Well, yeah."
"I mean, I do like Elaina. She's a good kid and she's interesting."
"But sometimes she's just a little…"
"Yeah, I get what you mean."
Slytherin communication was complicated.
If this were Gryffindor, things would be simple. You were either an ally or an enemy. But in Slytherin, a delicate balance was required, something like shaking hands with your right hand while throwing punches with your left.
"Honestly, she's got a ton of self-display going on. She really plays up that model student image."
"Like, 'I'm different from everyone else,' right?"
"That's it! I totally get it!"
"Hahaha! But wait, aren't we being kind of awful, talking this much behind her back?"
"Exactly. Yuffie, that's probably why the younger students are scared of you."
"True, true. Seriously, how did you even become a prefect like that?"
"I'm still better than Farley-senpai was."
"Serena, keep Yuffie in check for a second. I'm about to tattle to Farley-senpai with the two-way mirror."
The girl who shouted, slightly out of character, "Heeey, what was that?!" was someone I recognized. Euphemia Rowle, a sixth-year Slytherin prefect, belonged to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families at the very top of the pure-blood hierarchy.
She was a refined-looking witch with long, light brown hair woven with braids and olive-colored eyes. Her reputation was that of an impeccable honor student, a lady worthy of her noble lineage. Apparently, though, she had more than one side to her personality.
She interacted fairly often with Elaina and the others, and I had seen her chatting cheerfully with them in the Great Hall on several occasions.
"Oh, that reminds me, speaking of Elaina earlier…"
"What, what?"
"That hair mist Elaina told me about. I tried it, and it's insanely good!"
"No way, now I'm super curious."
"Scarlett, do you have it on you right now?"
"Hold on… yeah, here it is! Want to try it?"
When the red-haired girl pulled out a small bottle, the Rowle group crowded around, sniffing it eagerly.
"Ohhh, I see. It's this kind of scent."
"But wait! I actually kind of love this."
"Me too!"
Just moments ago they had been trading sharp barbs, but now the conversation shifted to new cosmetics, then naturally drifted to dieting and sweets.
(When you look at it this way, they don't seem like bad people at heart…)
They got jealous of talented, attention-grabbing juniors, tried not to antagonize powerful pure-blood families, and at least understood that bad-mouthing others was wrong. They valued momentum over consistency or logic, tossing out whatever seemed like it would get laughs in the moment. Once they realized they shared similar interests, they softened immediately.
In short, they were ordinary teenagers: easily swayed, with plenty of annoying quirks.
Just as not all Slytherins were fond of Elaina, it seemed not everyone in Gryffindor was wholeheartedly cheering for Harry either.
"I can't really say this inside the common room, but cheating just isn't right."
The one who voiced this criticism toward Harry, speaking to Fred and the others in a corner of the Entrance Hall, was Alicia Spinnet, two years their senior. She was a slender beauty with a sharp, refreshing presence, wearing milk-beige medium-short hair styled slightly asymmetrically on one side.
"It's not fair to the people in Hufflepuff either…"
Fred and George immediately pushed back.
"But it's too late now, right? The judges already gave it the okay. All's well that ends well."
"Exactly. We're bold and daring Gryffindors, after all."
"I think boldness should come with justice…"
That argument didn't seem to land with the twins.
"Alicia, you've been starting to sound like Percy lately."
"Is it because you became a prefect?"
"Oh, honestly! This is why Gryffindor boys are impossible! I'm trying to have a serious conversation here!"
As Alicia sulked, George deftly deflected her mood while Fred turned to Angelina. Angelina had her unruly black hair tied up in a sporty high ponytail and was absentmindedly spinning a Quaffle on her finger.
"So, Angelina, what do you think?"
"Huh? About what?"
"Harry and the tournament."
"No idea. Honestly, I just want to play Quidditch already. They didn't have to cancel it…"
Angelina still hadn't come to terms with the reality of Quidditch being canceled, and the twins and Alicia exchanged looks.
"Angelina's starting to sound like Wood…"
"At this rate, she'll be captain next year."
"I've got prefect duties too, so Angie's the obvious choice."
"Alicia, you haven't forgotten we're the same age, have you?"
"Wait, did you seriously think there was even a one-in-ten-thousand chance McGonagall would name either of you captain?"
Incidentally, the Gryffindor captain was appointed by Professor McGonagall, since she was so passionate about Quidditch. In Ravenclaw, the captain was usually elected from among volunteers. In Hufflepuff, where students tended to be more reserved and no one wanted to run, the decision was made by anonymous majority vote. As for Slytherin, it was officially appointed by the Head of House, but since Snape showed little interest, it was effectively decided by the previous captain's recommendation.
That Sunday morning passed with reactions that were neither fully supportive nor outright condemnatory, varying by time, place, and person. Still, Elaina and the others were not about to sit back and wait.
They moved quickly.
After lunch, an unexpected visitor appeared at the Hufflepuff table. It was Pansy Parkinson, dressed in a boyish outfit of a black hoodie, short pants, and sneakers. A silver necklace and earrings added just the right accents, suiting her black bob haircut well.
"So, Pansy, about Elaina… how did she do it?"
The one asking with obvious curiosity was Hannah Abbott, a quiet girl in their year with blonde hair in braids. Perhaps because it was a day off, she was wearing rimless glasses.
"Well, I'm not completely sure, since she tried way too many things…"
As many Hufflepuff students leaned in to listen, Pansy explained the dozen or so methods Elaina had mentioned for breaking through.
"And according to Moody, it might have been a Confundus Charm."
When Pansy finished in a languid tone, the Hufflepuff students looked impressed, as if realizing something they had missed.
Many of them had already witnessed Elaina's repeated attempts to cross the Age Line, so rather than shock, curiosity seemed to dominate.
"But I'm surprised the other school heads allowed it."
"Apparently they protested a lot, but Professor Flan managed to mediate."
"Didn't the headmasters agree beforehand to only give zero points?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Adults can be pretty ruthless…"
"So she ended up as a prince on a white horse. Celestia was lucky."
When Zacharias Smith remarked sarcastically, several Hufflepuff students snickered along with him. While some students, like Hannah, reacted with a resigned, "Well, it's Elaina, so I guess it can't be helped," there were clearly others who were less pleased.
Pansy shot Smith a brief, irritated look, then calmly shot back.
"But isn't it also Dumbledore's fault for putting up a spell that a mere fourth-year could outwit?"
Smith raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Hm… you've got a point."
He continued in a strangely condescending tone.
"Indeed, that old man talks big but keeps falling short. So much for 'the greatest wizard of the century.'"
"I mean, it's nothing new. First year it was a troll, second year a basilisk, third year Sirius Black. He's been outplayed again and again."
"And this year it's Elaina and Potter. At this point, it's practically tradition. No wonder Rita Skeeter mocks him as an 'outdated fossil' in the Daily Prophet."
"Seriously. He's getting old. Maybe he's starting to lose it?"
As Pansy and Smith talked, more people around them began nodding along with comments like, "I know, right?" and the atmosphere gradually shifted into making Dumbledore the butt of the joke.
After that, it practically turned into a Dumbledore-bashing contest.
All the pent-up grievances they had been holding back must have found a punching bag in Dumbledore and burst out all at once.
Hufflepuff students were generally mild-mannered, but when gathered as a group, they could also become surprisingly assertive. Because they disliked unnecessary conflict, they tended to unconsciously go along with the majority opinion. While this differed in direction from Slytherin's self-preserving "go with the flow" mentality of siding with whoever was stronger, the two houses might be similar in how easily they were swayed by crowd psychology.
Even so, I could not bring myself to criticize them.
By shifting the blame onto Dumbledore, who was not present, they were able to vent their frustration, and that in turn weakened the hostility directed toward Elaina and the others.
Most likely, Pansy Parkinson had steered the conversation to reach this outcome. Or perhaps Elaina had instructed her to do so, or the Slytherins had discussed it among themselves beforehand.
When I casually glanced around at the other tables, just as expected, there were Slytherin students at every one, each surrounded by a large crowd.
(This pretty much confirms it…)
Slytherin's sense of unity was stronger than that of the other houses to begin with. And when it came to this sort of trickery or clever maneuvering, everyone jumped in enthusiastically and with delight. I was not sure I would want them as allies, but I definitely did not want them as enemies.
Using someone else as a scapegoat was not exactly admirable.
Still, since there was no way to actually harass Dumbledore himself, and if the end result was a reduction in the slander aimed at Harry and the others, perhaps it could be called a satisfactory outcome.
I would learn just how naive that line of thinking was in the following week's Potions class.
The next day, as I was heading to Potions, I spotted Harry in the corridor with a troubled expression.
Following his gaze, I saw Draco Malfoy and a group of Slytherins chatting cheerfully with clusters of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students.
Looking more closely, every Slytherin was wearing a large badge pinned to the chest of their robes, with blazing red fluorescent letters shining brightly.
"Let's support Cedric Diggory! The true champion of Hogwarts!"
It was about as blatant a piece of flattery as one could imagine.
"So, Malfoy, are you supporting Cedric?" Ernie Macmillan asked, staring intently at the badge.
Malfoy replied in an affected voice. "We thought we'd show our sincerity. Hogwarts' representative is Diggory, after all."
Unfortunately, Ernie seemed too absorbed in the badge to notice the calculating look in Malfoy's eyes.
"Macmillan, would you like one too? It's one Sickle. Of course, all proceeds will be donated to Hufflepuff."
It was nothing short of outright bribery.
"That sneaky little trickster, Malfoy…" Harry muttered beside me, his face twisted in disdain.
"If he sucks up that obviously, it'll just backfire…"
"H-heh… well, you're more reasonable than I thought," Ernie said.
Ernie was even more gullible than I had expected.
Other students watched with interest as well. Zacharias Smith seemed to have seen through Malfoy's intentions but decided it was not a bad deal, and the Ravenclaw students appeared to be enjoying it as a joke.
"Potter, like it?" Malfoy called out loudly, clearly delighted when he noticed us watching.
"But that's not all. Look!"
He pressed the badge firmly, and the blazing red letters and Cedric's face vanished. In their place appeared Harry's face and a different set of letters glowing green.
"Dirty trick, Potter."
As Harry's face on the badge was crushed beneath the letters, Padma and Justin burst out laughing. They did not seem to mean any harm, but when Harry glared at them, they hurriedly ducked behind other students' backs.
"Oh my, how very amusing," I replied with heavy sarcasm, stepping in as Harry's face flushed red.
"Truly stylish."
"In that case, Granger, would you like one too?" Malfoy said, holding out a badge.
"But don't touch my hand, all right? I just washed it, and I'd rather not dirty it with filthy blood."
The next instant, Harry had his wand thrust at Malfoy's face.
"You little…"
"Harry, wait!" I cried, trying to stop him.
Malfoy cut me off, deliberately provoking Harry.
"What, you want to go at it, Potter?"
As the surrounding students quickly backed away to a safe distance, Malfoy calmly drew his own wand.
"There's no Moody here to protect you this time. And Elaina isn't here to step in either…"
"What seems to be the commotion here?"
A soft yet chillingly authoritative voice echoed from the far end of the corridor. The Slytherin students immediately straightened up.
"…Rowle-senpai," Malfoy muttered bitterly.
The one who appeared was Euphemia Rowle, a fifth-year Slytherin. She looked like a completely different person from the day I had seen her chatting with her friends, carrying herself with cool composure, elegance, and the air of a senior student. It seemed she liked to put on a dignified front in front of underclassmen.
"First of all, both of you, lower your wands. Unlike Farley-senpai, I do not favor crude, athletic approaches like settling everything with a duel. Depending on the circumstances, I will deduct points and escort you to Mr. Filch."
Rowle then listened impartially to explanations from students of all four houses. After letting out a small sigh, she announced with a regretful tone, "Three points from Gryffindor and three points from Slytherin."
Malfoy immediately snapped back. "Oh? And here I thought a young lady of the Rowle family would side with 'filthy blood.'"
"Hardly," Rowle replied smoothly. "I am simply teaching manners to a Malfoy heir, as a prefect."
She brushed off Malfoy's sarcasm and continued coolly. "You are free to advocate pure-blood supremacy, but I would like you to be mindful of the time and place."
She had wrapped it in polite language, but what she really meant was, "Do it where no one can see."
One could call it hypocritical lip service, but it also showed that even in Slytherin, openly flaunting the uglier side of pure-blood ideology had become something to be avoided as times changed.
Malfoy looked displeased, but he was not foolish enough to keep protesting against an older prefect from an equally prestigious pure-blood family.
Seeing the trouble subside, Rowle put on a thin, unsettling smile of satisfaction.
"Hurry to class. You will be late for Professor Snape's lesson. Oh, and Potter, please stay here."
Malfoy entered the classroom with a smug grin, flashing the "Dirty trick, Potter" badge, while Rowle addressed the bewildered Harry.
"There is no need to be so tense. Mr. Bagman has summoned you, that is all."
"Bagman?"
"Yes. He says there will be a wand inspection. Bring your wand and go to the room you entered during the champion selection."
Harry looked visibly relieved, but at the time, he had no way of knowing that the wand inspection would turn out to be far more humiliating than Malfoy's badge ever was.
(End of chapter)
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