“Rita Skeeter? The reporter from The Daily Prophet?” Fred asked with a puzzled expression. “What does she have to do with this?”
George added with a grin, “And we’re not interested in her anyway. She’s doomed to unrequited love.”
“That’s a real shame,” Kyle replied, not wanting to continue the conversation. After a quick, half-hearted exchange of words, he walked between the two of them.
Lunch was already underway, and all Kyle wanted was to sit down and enjoy his tender steak and pumpkin juice instead of standing awkwardly in the doorway of the Great Hall. However, Fred and George had other plans. They followed him all the way to the Hufflepuff table.
“Even though there’s no solid proof,” Fred said as he sat down next to Kyle, pushing Cedric aside, “I can’t shake the feeling that the Charm classroom exploded because you were there.”
He took a large gulp of pumpkin juice before continuing, “Why else would everything be fine before, and then boom—the moment you show up, the classroom blows up? You must’ve influenced it.”
Kyle nearly choked on his own pumpkin juice, feeling the weight of Fred’s insinuation. What did I do? He’d been helping the whole time! Did he really have to take the blame for this?
Without saying a word, Kyle turned and gave Fred the finger.
But Fred, pretending not to notice, carried on. “It’s a pity you’re not in Gryffindor.”
“We already checked,” George added, laughing. “Gryffindor’s first lesson was Potions. If you were there, and the first-years cooperated, Snape would probably be the one in the hospital.”
“Yeah, such a shame,” Fred lamented, putting down his glass. “If you could’ve managed to send Snape to the hospital, you’d be a hero—not just of Gryffindor, but of all Hogwarts!”
Fred was so lost in his excitement that he didn’t even notice Cedric subtly tugging at his robes from the side, trying to get him to stop. His body shook with glee, completely unaware of Cedric’s attempts to calm him down.
“Seriously, Kyle, I still think you belong in Gryffindor. Hufflepuff doesn’t suit you.”
“You might be right, Fred, but…” Kyle cleared his throat and flashed a smile. “Why do you think the Gryffindor first-years would cooperate with me against Professor Snape? From what I can tell, Gryffindor students are all very polite and respectful. The headmaster’s kind, and surely Gryffindors wouldn’t be so... unruly.”
“What nonsense are you spouting, Kyle? Honest, rule-following kids don’t get sorted into Gryffindor,” Fred said, momentarily taken aback. Then, raising an eyebrow, he added, “Oh right, that’s true—we do love taking risks…”
“So… Mr. Weasley, is this why you’re not eating at your own house table?”
An icy, emotionless voice came from behind them.
Fred and George’s smiles vanished instantly as they turned their heads with great difficulty.
“Professor McGonagall! When did you—” Fred forced a smile, one that looked even more pitiful than if he were crying. “I think you might’ve misunderstood something. I can explain!”
“There’s no need, Mr. Weasley. I understand perfectly, and there’s no misunderstanding,” Professor McGonagall said, her expression calm as always. “You should count yourself lucky that it’s me standing here and not Professor Snape.”
Her tone remained steady as she continued, “For your lack of respect towards a professor, Gryffindor will lose ten points—ten points each.”
Fred and George let out a collective sigh of relief. It could’ve been worse. After all, it was only the start of the school year, and Gryffindor still had plenty of time to make up the points. Losing twenty points wasn’t too bad—manageable, at least.
“And…” Professor McGonagall continued, giving the twins a sharp look, “in light of your poor performance at the Sorting Ceremony, you will both be confined to your rooms every night for the next week.”
It was as if Fred and George had been struck by lightning.
The Sorting Ceremony? They had thought that was ancient history, a forgotten event. Losing points? That was nothing to them. But confinement? Especially for an entire week? That meant no night-walking for seven long days. The two were already sinking into despair.
“Professor, please...” Fred and George looked at McGonagall with pitiful expressions, hoping for a shred of mercy.
Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall remained unmoved. Her voice remained steady and firm: “Detention begins at 11 pm. You will report to Mr. Filch, who will escort you to the trophy room. There, you will find an album listing all the names and accomplishments of Gryffindor’s most outstanding students since the house was founded.”
The twins exchanged horrified glances, sensing what was coming next.
“You will transcribe the entire book,” she continued, “by hand, until it is complete. No magic, no Auto-Answer Quills. You will write every word yourselves.”
Professor McGonagall then pointed toward the Gryffindor table. “Now, Mr. Weasley, hurry back to your seats!”
Fred and George, utterly defeated, slumped their heads and trudged back to their table, their faces full of despair.
Kyle, watching their misery, barely managed to hold back his laughter until they were out of earshot. Then, acting as if nothing had happened, he turned to Professor McGonagall with a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall. I’m glad to see you.”
For the first time, McGonagall’s stern voice softened a little. “Good afternoon, Mr. Chopper.”
“Kyle, please,” he corrected her with a grin. “Have you had lunch yet, Professor? If not, you should join us here.”
Cedric, realizing what Kyle was doing, quickly moved over, making space at the table.
Professor McGonagall’s expression softened further. “I would love to, but I’ve already eaten.”
She usually avoided dining in the Great Hall with the students, either arriving before mealtimes or eating in her office to maintain her authoritative image.
“That’s a pity,” Kyle sighed dramatically, and the other Hufflepuffs immediately chimed in, showing similarly disappointed expressions, as if they had all been looking forward to sharing a meal with Professor McGonagall.
Everyone remained polite and well-behaved.
Professor McGonagall looked around at the Hufflepuff table, comparing it to the chaos happening over at the Gryffindor table next door. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. Why are all the well-behaved students in the other houses? she wondered. Especially Kyle and Cedric... even if they were in Gryffindor, things would be so much better.
This Sorting Hat... she sighed inwardly.