Chapter 11: 5-2

"How on earth did it even come to this...?"

""It’s Parkinson’s fault!""

Three innocent, youthful voices chimed in unison. It was Harry, Ron, and Hermione, huddled together in the Common Room as if performing a rehearsed routine. Looking at their familiar, pouting faces, I pressed my fingers to my temples, wondering how to handle the situation.

Surely not you too, Hermione... weren’t you the one who tried to stop them last time? I distinctly remember you thinking they were a nuisance.

"But—but that girl! She made fun of Maria!"

"She did! She called our Maria 'Harry’s little lackey'! Said she was just an after-thought, the 'useless twin.' Even though Maria’s the one who’s always covering for Harry’s blunders! That girl only picks on you because you’re pretty!"

"Exactly! She’s just bitter because she’s a pug-faced girl! She should try being half as beautiful as Maria before she opens that foul mouth of hers!"

"Oh... wow..."

I suppose a woman’s worst enemy really is another woman. I found myself instinctively recoiling at the fact that Hermione’s insults were levels more vicious than Ron’s. Even at a young age, a girl is still a girl, I suppose...

Still, good heavens. My mother really must have been a stunning girl... I allowed myself a moment of escapism. Even if my eyes took after my father, the fact that Maria’s facial features were so highly rated—even by other girls—was a testament to the power of Lily’s blood.

Furthermore, the realization that Ron had been paying attention to me, Maria, was unexpectedly touching. I knew I should be reprimanding them, but I found myself on the verge of accidental laughter.

"Harry."

"I’m angry too. It’s no use trying to stop us."

"Yes, thank you. I wouldn’t dream of stopping you from being angry on my behalf, just as I’d be furious if someone mocked you, Harry... but could you at least tell me what happened?"

Harry’s account went like this:

First, Pansy Parkinson had approached them, sneering, "Oh, look, it’s Potter the Hero. I wonder where his usual failure of a sidekick is?" She kept prodding. "It must be hard for you, having such a pathetic sister. Did you know? In Slytherin, they call her the 'Dud Twin.'" More goading. "And yet, she’s so desperate for attention. Even though she’s just riding your coattails." She was on a roll. "A girl wearing trousers? I wonder if you’ll be the one wearing a skirt next?"

At that point, for some reason, Hermione snapped. (Seriously, why!?)

"Don't you dare talk about things you don't understand, you pug-faced brat!"

And so, a "clash of the titans" erupted, filled with a storm of insults too foul to repeat. Because Hermione was a brilliant girl with an extensive vocabulary, the exchange reached a level that left everyone else around them completely stunned. (This was according to Ron).

An incensed Parkinson then challenged Hermione to a wizard's duel. It was Harry who accepted. (Again, why!?)

"Can I take that challenge? — I won't forgive anyone, whoever they are, who insults Maria."

In the end, it turned out Harry was the angriest of them all. Ron jumped in, saying, "Then I’ll be his second," and that brought us to the present.

"..........."

To think that Malfoy’s former role had been passed on to Parkinson. This must be the "corrective force" of history at work.

"Well, um... I’m very happy you feel that way, thank you. But... please be careful. Good luck."

""We will!""

Their eyes were blazing with the message: Don’t even try to stop us, because we’re going anyway. I gave up immediately—on the persuasion, the lecturing, and everything else.

Give me a break... my body is that of a frail eleven-year-old girl; I can't keep up with three energetic kids...

Time passed, and it was now past eleven o'clock. Having sent the mischievous trio off with a heavy heart, I pulled out my communication parchment and began writing to Draco.

『My side has left. How about yours?』

『She just went back to her room, looking quite pleased with herself after treading on Filch’s toes (figuratively speaking) to snitch on them.』

『As I thought... Do you have any thoughts on this, Mr. Malfoy??』

『I’m going to stop them as an act of penance, my Master... or should I say, My Lady?』

『Should I go too?』

『More people will only get in the way.』

I suppose that's true, I thought. Just as I finished writing, I looked up, startled by a shadow stretching across the desk.

"Maria? Are you still up?"

"—Neville."

The silhouette of the round-faced boy stood alone in the Common Room. The fire had died down to embers, leaving them as the only light source, making his outline look soft and almost surreal. Though, from his perspective, I—blending into the sofa—probably looked like a ghost.

In any case, I couldn't just leave him there. Neville was rubbing his eyes sleepily while looking around in confusion. I quickly scribbled 『Neville』 『He’s here』 『Later』 on the parchment and tucked it into my pajama pocket.

"You too, Neville. What's wrong? At this hour?"

"I just... couldn't sleep."

"...You look pretty sleepy to me, though."

"Yeah. But I just can't."

It didn't seem like an excuse. Neville looked genuinely troubled, his brow furrowed and his eyes downcast. He had been through several terrifying experiences lately; perhaps his body was still stuck in a state of subconscious tension.

"In that case, why don't you talk with me for a bit? Come sit here, Neville."

"Is it okay?"

"Of course. Would you like some cocoa? I’ve already started it, though."

Back when my children couldn't sleep, my wife Ginny usually handled it, but sometimes they would sneak into my study. At those times, I would soothe my dear children with a drink just like this—I hoped it would work for him too.

"Wh—No, I couldn't! Not that!"

Neville sat down beside me obediently, but he seemed flustered in a soft sort of way.

"Eh? Why? You don't dislike cocoa, do you?"

"N-no, I like it. You know me well... no, that’s not it! That's not the point. I know better than to just take a girl's food or drink like it's nothing."

Neville gave me a look that said 'Don't make fun of me,' so I hurriedly shook my head.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! ...Right, I see. My apologies. I, uh... as you probably know, I’m not very conscious of being 'a girl'."

Even now, I made an effort not to look at my roommates while they were changing, and I certainly couldn't keep up with their talk about which boys were "dreamy." For some reason, they always tried to pry my opinion out of me. Girls really are precocious, regardless of the era.

...Wait, what are my views on romance now? I was never someone who cared much for that sort of thing to begin with. The only women I was truly close to were Ginny and Hermione. I loved Ginny, of course, but physical affection with Hermione was so natural that I never thought twice about it. Sharing a drink or a snack with Hermione was something I, as Harry, would have done without a second thought. Ron never said anything either. It was just our "normal."

—But it’s different now. Being a girl is complicated.

"—You’re pretty, Maria."

"Eh?"

Neville’s voice dropped into the night air like a single pebble. His eyes were earnest and direct as he looked at me.

"You’re pretty, and beautiful, but you don't act stuck-up about it. You're kind... and you're even good to someone like me. You're always helping me. As a person, you're just... very charming."

"Neville..."

"So, um... have some confidence. It’s weird for me to be the one saying it, but..."

"...No. Thank you, Neville. I meant to cheer you up, but it seems you’ve cheered me up instead."

"Eh?"

Neville had a habit of hunching his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller. His back always seemed to be pleading, 'Please don't notice me.' That was the Neville I knew.

And yet, when he feels something is wrong, he speaks up. Even while terrified, even while trembling, he has the courage to see things through.

—He is a true Gryffindor.

"Neville, you are an amazing person. You’re the one who should have more confidence. I respect you from the bottom of my heart."

"Maria... respects me?"

"Yes. You might be clumsy now, but you will undoubtedly be great. I guarantee it."

"But... I might be a Squib..."

"Impossible. And even if you were, anyone would be proud of a Squib with this much courage. But you aren't one."

"Do you... really think so?"

"I do. I’ve spent my whole life watching Harry—you can take my word for it."

When I said it jokingly, Neville finally gave me a smile free of worry.

"When you say it, Maria, it almost feels like it's true. You’re incredible."

Then, Neville let out a massive yawn. It seemed real exhaustion had finally caught up with him.

"Thanks, Maria. I think I understand why Harry and Ron and everyone else go to you for advice. You’re so calm, it's hard to believe we're the same age. ...Will you listen to me again sometime?"

"Of course. Anytime, with pleasure."

"Goodnight, Maria."

"Goodnight, Neville."

In the gentle hush of the night, our quiet farewells melted away. The silence took his hand and led him toward sleep.

I let out a sigh of relief. I watched the sleepy-eyed Neville return to the dormitory, feeling that it had been a very meaningful use of time. Satisfied, I opened the communication parchment again, only to be interrupted by—

""D-D-DOG!!""

"Shhh!"

The troublemaking trio burst into the Common Room as if running for their lives. I immediately put a finger to my lips.

"M-M-Maria, it was awful, huff, wheeze—"

"Alright, alright. Deep breaths first, Harry."

"M-Maria, a dog, it was a trap—cough—"

"You too, Hermione. You’re a mess. Who’s the one who usually scolds me for being unladylike?"

"Wheeze, huff, huff..."

"...Ron looks like he’s forgotten how to speak entirely."

I managed to get the three of them—clothes and hair in complete disarray—to sit on the sofa by the fire. I passed around the cocoa I had been drinking, letting them each have a sip.

...Hmm. I guess when it comes to these guys, my 'awareness' of being a girl just disappears.

"So? What about a dog?"

At my question, Harry, who was the first to recover, whispered loudly.

"We went to the Fourth-Floor Corridor—the one we were told was forbidden! And there was this massive dog!"

"It had three heads! And giant fangs! If that thing bit you, you’d be a goner. This school is keeping a monster!" Ron added excitedly.

"Didn't you two use your eyes at all? Didn't you see what was under its feet?"

"I was a bit busy looking at the three heads!"

"It was a door! There was a trapdoor under its paws. It must be guarding something..."

"Who cares! Anyway, it’s your fault for screaming—that’s how Filch found us. If we’d just outrun him, we wouldn't have ended up in that mess!"

"Are you saying this is all my fault?! The nerve! I wonder who it was that knocked over that suit of armor!?"

"That was—!"

"Alright, alright, stop. Both of you, calm down. Take another sip of cocoa. Better?"

I held my palms out and moved them slowly, as if soothing an excited Hippogriff. Steady now.

As the former Harry, I was well-accustomed to my best friends' emotional bickering. But the current Harry could only hover between them, looking distressed. Poor thing.

I pulled my 'younger brother's' pale face to my chest and turned to the one girl in the group who was still capable of rational conversation.

"So, in the end, Parkinson never showed up?"

"Ah—yes, that’s right! That pug-faced girl set us up! It was Filch who showed up at the dueling spot. But Malfoy warned us before we ran into him."

"And where is Draco now?"

"Oh, um... he stayed with us until we got to the Gryffindor entrance, but from there..."

"I see."

So Draco had walked these troublemakers all the way back to their tower after all. It must have been a nightmare looking after three panicked kids... I’ll have to thank him properly later.

Still. Good heavens.

...The three-headed dog, huh...

"Maria?"

Instead of clutching my own head, I stroked Harry’s.

—I completely forgot.

I forgot that today was the day the mystery of the fourth floor began. While Draco knew about the Philosopher's Stone, he shouldn't have known the details of the traps. ...Wait, did I tell him? Whatever. Either way, he probably didn't expect to run into a Cerberus tonight.

Oh, I’m dreading seeing Draco tomorrow... He’s going to nag me about not warning him, saying it wasn't worth the trouble. It’s not my fault; the only specific date I clearly remember is Quirrell letting a Troll into Hogwarts on Halloween.

"Anyway, you must be exhausted. Go to sleep. Your heads will be clearer in the morning. If you want to talk, we’ll do it tomorrow. The most important thing is to calm down. It’s very late. Hermione, don't you want some time to process everything in your head?"

"...Yes, you’re right. Exactly. There are things I want to think about. Thank you for the cocoa. Maria, Harry... goodnight."

"...'Night."

"Goodnight, Ron, Hermione. Thank you for getting angry for my sake today. It made me happy."

With a series of distracted "goodnights," Hermione left looking pensive, while Ron headed to bed still looking disgruntled. I watched them go, then turned my attention back to Harry, who was silent in my arms, and gently rubbed his back.

"Harry."

"...Draco helped us."

"Yes."

"Draco... he’s not a bad person, is he?"

"If you feel that way, then I’m sure he isn't."

"...Yeah."

Something finally seemed to click for him, and his stiff, small body began to relax.

"...Hey, Harry. Let's sleep here together tonight. Like we used to. Doesn't this cramped sofa remind you of the bed at Privet Drive?"

"At least this one doesn't creak and complain."

"The sofa is much more generous."

"Hehe..."

I reached for a stray blanket someone had left behind and wrapped it around both of us.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Maria."

I took off Harry’s glasses and kissed his forehead. As I placed the glasses on the low table in front of the sofa, I noticed new words appearing on the open parchment.

『Fourth floor』 『Cerberus』 『Explain』

And then—

『Goodnight, Maria.』

"...Haha."

Whether now or in the past—you were never truly a bad person. ...Though you certainly have a wicked personality.

—Goodnight, Draco Malfoy.