The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had ended, and the brawl in the stands had also come to a close.
Students, having had their fill of the spectacle, helped Ron and Neville up. Draco Malfoy was still lying on the ground, stubbornly shouting that he was going to tell his father.
Having powerful and wealthy parents was something truly enviable. But for Draco Malfoy, such a family was both his fortune and his misfortune.
Although the Malfoy family was rich, if Eda were given the choice to trade places with Draco, she wouldn't agree no matter what.
Malfoy's father had only taught him how to bully others using power and influence, how to mock classmates for fun, and how to be arrogant and dismissive. Anything good, he hadn't taught at all.
If this kind of rude and idiotic behavior was what defined a pure-blood family, Eda could finally understand why Voldemort had failed. Aside from Voldemort's own madness and arrogance, his foolish teammates also played a major role.
With such a bunch of pig-like followers dragging him down, Voldemort had still managed to accomplish so much—one could only imagine how formidable he truly was.
If he'd had a more competent set of allies, maybe his ending wouldn't have been so tragic.
This was also why Dumbledore took Voldemort so seriously. Even though outsiders claimed he had been defeated, Dumbledore had still made extensive preparations, guarding against the day the Dark Lord might rise again.
Eda shook out her hands. Even though she had used magic to subdue the two big oafs and protect her hands while slapping them, they still hurt. It looked like she'd need to apply some bruise balm when she got back.
As for those two pig-headed boys on the ground and Malfoy, who was still shouting—Eda couldn't be bothered.
Who ever heard of having to clean up after dealing with someone?
Besides, all she'd done was gently caress the two big oafs. How could it have been that serious?
The crowd celebrating had already rushed down from the stands. Even Dumbledore had gone to stand beside Harry.
No one paid any attention to Eda, who was still standing there—let alone the three lying on the ground, completely overlooked.
With Ron and Neville no longer pinning him down, Draco Malfoy also sat up. He only cast a disdainful glance at Eda before turning his gaze toward Harry Potter on the pitch. Compared to Harry Potter, this Mudblood was nothing.
Watching Harry, hailed as a hero by the Gryffindors, Malfoy pounded the stands in frustration. One was lifted onto shoulders in celebration, while he lay bruised and beaten—this was the greatest mockery he could imagine.
Malfoy stood up, ignored Crabbe and Goyle who were still lying on the ground, and left the pitch alone, heading back to the castle.
Although Draco Malfoy was always speaking rudely about the Weasley family, Eda didn't have much prejudice against him. In her eyes, Malfoy was just an immature brat, and most of his views and actions were the result of his parents' influence.
If he still turned out this way after growing up, Eda would make sure he learned how to spell the word regret.
There was one thing Eda had never quite figured out—Malfoy originally wanted to be friends with Harry Potter, but his way of going about it was nothing like making a friend.
It was more like recruiting a lackey.
After that, Malfoy kept going out of his way to mess with Harry. Even though he kept getting the short end of the stick, he still did it every time. What Eda really wanted to know was: what exactly was driving him to keep doing this?
Over an hour after the match had ended, Eda and the twins appeared in the Hogwarts kitchens.
A group of house-elves were bustling around them, preparing piles of cakes and drinks. Only when the three of them truly couldn't carry any more did the house-elves finally stop.
Every time they came to the kitchens, the house-elves were always extremely enthusiastic, to the point that Eda and the twins, who always left with their hands full and bellies stuffed, felt a bit embarrassed.
If not for the rare victory they were celebrating today, the three of them wouldn't have come to the kitchens at all—this kind of warm hospitality was a bit overwhelming.
The three of them carried a large pile of food and drinks back to the common room.
The main star of the night hadn't returned yet, but the atmosphere in the common room had already reached a fever pitch. A bunch of little lions were loudly singing off-key songs. Even though no one had been drinking, they acted just like a bunch of drunken fools.
With this win under their belts, if they could take the next match against Slytherin, Gryffindor would be the Quidditch Cup champions. The last time Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup was when Charlie was still at school—and back then, he hadn't even been the team captain yet.
It had been years since that last victory, and now they had a chance to win it by stepping over their greatest rival—it was no wonder the little lions were celebrating like this. If they really did win the next match, the celebration would be even bigger.
Halfway through the celebration, Harry returned with Ron and Hermione.
The students immediately crowded around them again and hoisted the hero of the match back onto their shoulders.
Harry was still young and inexperienced—Eda could easily see through the forced smile on his face.
He hadn't looked like this when the match had just ended. Clearly, something had happened during the time he was away that weighed heavily on his mind.
Eda glanced at Ron and Hermione as well. They both wore similarly worried expressions. For all three of them to go from laughing joyfully an hour ago to being filled with concern now, there were only two things that could cause it: the Sorcerer's Stone, or Snape.
Judging by how the three of them looked, Eda assumed they must have discovered something really serious.
But a few days later, the stunt they pulled left Eda both speechless and amused.
Eda felt that her English still wasn't good enough—she had embarrassed Snape, because she honestly couldn't think of a single word to describe what Harry and the others had done.
In the weeks following the match, Harry and his friends kept trying to persuade others not to mock or bully Quirrell anymore.
In their eyes, although Quirrell stammered when he spoke and was timid by nature, he was actually a brave man—because he was resisting the evil Dark Lord Snape, and he was trying to stop Snape from stealing the Sorcerer's Stone.
Poor Professor Quirrell, always stuttering—how could the young trio bear to let such a hero bleed and shed tears too?
They couldn't just sit back and watch everyone insult and laugh at Quirrell.
What Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't know, however, was just how absurd their good intentions looked from Quirrell's point of view.
Their actions did absolutely nothing—everyone still bullied Quirrell.
Aside from offering him a few encouraging smiles, they couldn't actually help him with anything.
They figured they needed to find someone with more authority to really make a difference. So the three of them sought out Eda and the twins, hoping to convince them to join in the fight against the unjust bullying of Professor Quirrell.
"Eda, will you help us stand up for Professor Quirrell?" Harry said bluntly. "He's just so pitiful!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
Eda and the twins were trying their hardest to keep their expressions under control. It wouldn't be right to burst out laughing while Harry and the others were so sincere in asking for help.
Eda had tried to persuade Harry before, but he remained stubborn, firmly believing he was in the right. Later, after speaking with Dumbledore and Snape, Eda saw even less reason to reveal the truth.
Since both professors wanted Harry to remain in the dark for the time being, keeping his focus on Snape, why should she say more than necessary? Humph!
This was both a test and a lesson for Harry.
"Pf—Harry, how ehm.. exactly do you want us to help Professor Quirrell?" Fred asked, his voice trembling. Only heaven knew how much effort it took for him to say that without laughing.
Eda, not wanting to speak, kept her head down, fiddling with her fingers, lost in her own world.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione launched into a full-blown pity speech.
They described Quirrell as pitiful and painted Snape as utterly wicked. In their eyes, Quirrell, clearly at a disadvantage, needed support and should not have to endure such humiliation.
With things said to this extent, the twins couldn't very well say no. They both nodded repeatedly, promising they would speak to their classmates and urge them to stop bullying Quirrell.
Satisfied with the twins' promise, Harry then turned to Eda, clearly hoping for her approval as well.
But Eda either stared blankly at her own fingers or glanced up at Hermione—anything but looking at Harry. If George hadn't nudged her, she wouldn't even have realized the conversation was over.
The fact that Eda was still sitting there, rather than walking away, was already the greatest respect she could offer Harry—he really shouldn't expect anything more.
"Hermione, do you know what a smart witch is like?"
This sudden, seemingly unrelated question made Hermione look at Eda in confusion. She'd already noticed earlier that Eda had been looking at her with disappointment, and now this question left her even more puzzled—she truly didn't understand what Eda was trying to say.
"A smart witch shouldn't let the people around her sway her thinking. She should be able to think independently."
Leaving that sentence behind, Eda turned and walked away.
Harry had already wasted enough of her time. She'd be better off spending it with her training puppet. Ever since she started learning under Dumbledore's guidance, she had already found a way to defeat the puppet.
Note: Gryffindor's final Quidditch match opponent should've been Ravenclaw, but I changed it to Slytherin. Ahh~ Drama!!!
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