Chapter 23: 2

A Story of Later Investigation

To put it delicately, the girl with the unruly, bushy hair—which seemed to follow every movement of her head—loomed over the boy who shared her penchant for messy locks, her expression one of fierce concern for her friend.

"Harry, listen to me. This is important for you, too. It’s about Maria’s… ‘problem.’"

Harry blinked. Those green eyes—rare even if one searched the whole world—flickered with an innocent confusion. After all, the person Hermione had just singled out as having a "problem" was none other than the green-eyed boy’s own sibling of the same age. (Whether she was the elder or younger sister remained a mystery even now.)

"…Problem? What about Maria?"

"To be precise, it’s about Maria’s lack of self-awareness. That girl is far too defenseless."

In their House Common Room, Harry and his best friend, Ron, were happily sharing cupcakes provided by the very Maria in question. They both tilted their heads like confused squirrels, cheeks puffed out with cake. (By the way, where does Maria always manage to source these sweets from?)

The subject of their conversation was nowhere to be found. By the time they had noticed, she had vanished from the Common Room—and by extension, from the company of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. While Ron and Hermione had resolved not to worry about it, as such disappearances were a daily occurrence, Harry actually knew exactly where his sister was.

She had gone to see her "special friend" from another House: Draco Malfoy. One should never underestimate the bond of twins.

"What do you mean, ‘awareness’…?"

"For instance, letting Malfoy touch her so easily, or trying to stay alone with a boy in his room! Even Fred and George are always casually slinging their arms around her shoulders. She has absolutely no idea how she appears to those around her!"

Finally slamming her hands down on the communal table—which was currently a mess of baked goods, books, and parchment—Hermione ranted about Maria’s "problem" with enough steam to rival a boiling kettle. To Harry and Ron, it looked as though her thick, bushy brown hair expanded even further in sync with her emotions.

"Hmm…" Harry set aside a piece of cake salé he had picked up after his cupcake and knitted his brows behind his glasses. "Even if you talk about awareness… Draco’s behavior is partly just because he likes skinship."

"In the first place, how can someone that pretty grow up without realizing it? That silky red hair that shines even though she only combs it with a tatty old brush! That pale skin without a single freckle! Those charming, cat-like eyes! The innocence of her laugh when she opens her mouth wide! Oh, Harry, I know you’ve been with her since birth so you’re probably desensitized to it, but Maria is actually incredibly cute. If Parvati is a different type of beauty, Maria is at least a girl who can stand right alongside her. You can really see the beauty of your mother in her. She must have been pampered constantly at primary school, surely?"

Hermione continued, breathless. "Listen. We know she’s a bit of a slob and airheaded despite her looks, so we know she truly doesn't think anything of her appearance. But to an outsider, she looks like a 'calculating' girl who’s playing dumb despite being a beauty! Well… maybe not 'calculating,' she’s a bit too uncouth for that."

"I don't think that was a compliment, Hermione," Ron interjected in a small voice. However, his voice was far too quiet to reach Hermione, who had turned into a literal human machine gun of words.

"What I’m trying to say is, as her brother, you need to warn her—"

"I think it’s because she was never 'pampered' to begin with," Harry said simply.

"Yes, yes, I’m sure. Even Pansy Parkinson goes around behind her back calling Maria a conceited show-off... eh?"

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry simultaneously. Unfazed by the sudden silence of Hermione’s one-woman machine gun, Harry popped a piece of apple crumble into his mouth and continued matter-of-factly.

"Maria was never pampered. You guys know, don't you? My sister and I were mistreated by our guardians. We could barely even attend primary school properly. Do you think a household like that would praise a child they treated like a ghost? Would they stroke her head and say, 'You’re the cutest girl in the world, sweetheart'? I bet you think she got one more Christmas present than everyone else, too."

"That’s…"

"Until we came to Hogwarts, we never even looked in a mirror properly. Maria never even wore girls' clothes. They were all hand-me-downs from our cousin. Our 'great' cousin who grew rounder and rounder by the day."

As those dark words spilled from Harry’s youthful lips, Hermione finally fell silent. Ron, too, froze with a jam-slathered scone halfway to his mouth, a look of profound awkwardness on his face.

"Besides, Maria isn't actually defenseless."

"…She isn't?"

"No. You guys are just special. Maria is actually quite picky about who she associates with, and she doesn't like being touched. If a total stranger tries to bother her, she dodges them with surprising skill. Honestly, it’s a mystery to me why she opened up so much to Draco or you guys from the moment you met. Knowing her, I mean."

"……"

The two of them were unable to hide their shock at the fact that Maria was originally a highly guarded person. They could only listen to the brother who undoubtedly knew her better than anyone.

"I think Maria has her own set of standards. Aside from you two, there’s Fred, George, Cedric from Hufflepuff, and Hagrid, too. Basically, the line between 'safe' and 'not safe' is very clear in her head. She just doesn't lower her guard at all for anyone she hasn't deemed 'safe.' Since you’re all in the 'safe' category, you’ve just never seen how she treats the 'not safe' people. You’ll see it eventually, so look forward to it. It’s… well, it’s actually quite terrifying. She looks at them with the same eyes she’d use for a pebble on the side of the road—zero interest. Honestly, if Maria ever looked at me like that, I don't think I’d have the will to go on living."

Given the conviction in Harry’s voice—the weight of a family member who had lived closest to her—Ron and Hermione nodded solemnly, shivering at the terrifying mental image.

If that Maria looked at them like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe… or like a broken quill that had become utterly useless… yes, they certainly wouldn't be able to bear it.

"So, yeah. Just try to think of it as a sign of how much she trusts you. ...Though, it’s a bit of a pity for Draco."

"What about Malfoy?"

"I don't think you'd understand yet, Ron."

"What’s that supposed to mean, Harry!"

The high-pitched voices of boys who hadn't yet reached puberty rang out. Ignoring the boys as they started messing around—nearly scattering the remains of the treats on the table—the thoughtful Hermione sank back into her reflections.

The "boundary" Harry mentioned likely didn't stem from a girl’s self-awareness, but rather from Maria’s personal philosophy as a human being. In the end, it was safe to assume her awareness as a "woman" remained underdeveloped. If that was the case…

I knew it. I’m the one who has to stay by her side and protect that clueless girl. Especially since all the boys around here are… like "this."

Hermione’s worries only seemed to increase, even after touching upon the core of her friend’s nature.

"Actually, come to think of it…"

Harry, thinking the conversation was over, had started putting the crumbs back into the basket to stand up. (When Maria handed him the basket, she had strictly warned him, "Make sure you clean up properly!") Hermione suddenly struck the pose of a professor brandishing a pointer. Ron watched her, feeling a slight chill; he wondered what she was doing without a wand. As a Pure-blood, he had no idea what a Muggle "pointer" was and wondered if she was practicing wandless magic despite not being an adult yet.

"Actually, that story was quite interesting. Hearing Harry’s impression of Maria gives a very special perspective. I feel like I can finally agree with the idea that Harry is the older brother."

"Well, I am the older brother."

"Really?"

"…Just between us, I’ll confess that neither Maria nor I actually know for sure. We never felt the need to investigate it properly. But we decided that I’m the brother. Between the two of us."

"Is that so? But Maria said—"

"Yeah. Maria doesn't remember that conversation at all. …I don't mind, though. It was back when we were only three or four years old."

But, Harry continued.

The scar on his forehead, said to be the price of rebounding a Killing Curse from his arch-enemy, was his trademark to the world. But his eyes—those beautiful eyes inherited from his mother—softened with a warmth far more striking than any scar.

It was truly the face of an older brother thinking of his beloved sibling.

"I promised Maria that I would be her big brother. Even if she doesn't remember, I’ll keep that promise forever."

Ron and Hermione watched Harry with bittersweet expressions as he made his proud declaration. Since Hermione was an only child, her gaze held a hint of longing. Ron, on the other hand, was surely thinking of his own many brothers and his younger sister.

"…Maybe Harry really is the older one after all."

"That’s what I’ve been saying, isn't it?"

"You’re a good big brother, Harry."

"Hehe, you can say that more often."

He looked quite childish as he chuckled proudly.

"Besides, Maria used to be much more timid and a total crybaby. She used to hide behind me all the time."

"What!?"

"That Maria?"

"Yeah. But she changed before I knew it. I wonder how old she was… well, either way, I love Maria no matter how she is."

As Harry spoke words that could easily be mistaken for a lover’s sweet nothings without a hint of embarrassment, his two best friends looked off into the distance, quite used to this by now.

That’s right. Maria is one thing, but Harry has a severe 'sister complex' too, doesn't he?

Goodness, they really were the perfect pair of Potter twins.