"Hey, Weasley! Lovely afternoon, isn't it? You're here for Penelope, aren't you?... How do I know? Everyone knows, Weasley. Penelope is a beautiful girl, isn't she? Since third year, she's had suitors flocking around her. But our dear Miss Clearwater has never once accepted a date from any wizard. You know what I'm saying, don't you? This is your chance, Weasley. We're all rooting for you!"
"Uh, thanks, Hanks..."
The lanky redhead—Percy Weasley—forced a stiff smile, his face awkwardly frozen.
To win the favor of the Ravenclaw rose, Penelope Clearwater, Percy had invested considerable effort. Since last year, he had split his time between studying the art of power and researching the preferences of the esteemed young lady of Ravenclaw.
Percy lacked the striking looks of his eldest brother, Bill, and the robust physique of his second brother, Charlie. But he wasn't without merit. At the very least, the third Weasley son had an exceptional mind—one that allowed him to shine brilliantly in every end-of-year exam.
In Percy's eyes, wooing a girl was no different from preparing for an exam: as long as you did enough practice questions and studied the examiner's patterns, victory was assured.
He was ready to strike!
Or rather, he had already begun his attack.
The girl standing before him, Shiva Hanks, was a textbook Ravenclaw—freckle-faced, bespectacled, and a chatterbox who never seemed to stop talking. She also had an impressive tolerance for alcohol. Butterbeer was far too mild for her taste, and every trip to Hogsmeade involved smuggling a few bottles of Duke's Honey Mead back to the castle.
But to Percy, her most valuable trait was her other identity—Penelope's roommate.
Shoot the horse before the rider, and win the best friend before the girl herself. That was the strategy.
"Hanks, uh, your outfit this year... your hair, it looks fantastic."
"Really?" The bespectacled girl fluttered her lashes, swaying her hips as she playfully nibbled her fingertip. "You really think so, Weasley?"
"Of course!"
Percy declared with absolute conviction. But naturally, it was a lie. Hanks was far from a beauty.
Flattery was the simplest way to earn a witch's favor—even Professor McGonagall wasn't immune (she had been particularly pleased when Nolan gifted her new spectacles last year). However, complimenting an unattractive girl was a challenge, and Percy was evidently not good at it. His pale face and the disdain hidden in his eyes betrayed him.
Hanks noticed. She chuckled dryly. "You're such a sweetheart, Weasley."
Then, after a brief pause, she smirked. "Alright, tell me what it is you want from me."
"Really? Well, I was hoping to invite Clearwater to Hogsmeade this weekend... You know, Hanks, I had an article published in the Daily Prophet over Christmas, and I earned a few Galleons!" Percy's pale face flushed slightly with excitement. "Maybe you could pass the message to her… Of course, you're welcome to join too! My treat!"
"Oh? That's wonderful, Weasley. I'll be sure to let her know. I think she'll accept."
With her answer secured, Percy left in high spirits, looking as though his long-time crush was already within his grasp.
Watching the red-haired Gryffindor disappear down the corridor, Shiva Hanks raised an eyebrow and muttered to herself, "What a shallow guy. And... just a few Galleons? Weasley really is as poor as the rumors say. What gives him the confidence to ask out Penelope? Because he was a prefect last year?"
Grumbling, Miss Hanks turned and made her way up the winding stairs to Ravenclaw Tower.
…
Apart from Quidditch enthusiasts, most wizards weren't in the best physical shape. With Floo Powder, Portkeys, and Apparition at their disposal, there wasn't much need for walking. Even household chores were a non-issue—why scrub floors when you could simply wave a wand and say, "Scourgify!"?
Among these less-than-athletic wizards, Ravenclaws were slightly better off. Climbing up and down the high tower every day provided some form of exercise, didn't it?
By the time Shiva Hanks returned to the warmth of the dormitory, she was panting. In the dimly lit room, she spotted Penelope.
"Hey, our lovely Ravenclaw rose, why are you hiding here?"
"Oh, good afternoon, Shiva... It is afternoon, right? I hope I didn't get that wrong…"
A drowsy voice mumbled from beneath the covers.
"What are you doing? Don't tell me you're taking a nap?" Hanks found it unbelievable. "I've never seen you nap in the afternoon! Whenever you had free time, weren't you always either asking Professor Flitwick about Charms or attending McGonagall's Transfiguration club?"
"Socializing, you mean. Don't make it sound so terrible. Sure, everyone wants a strong network before graduation, but we're all friends..." Penelope yawned, sleepily fumbling around for her leggings.
"..."
"This is unbelievable, Penelope. I mean, since first year, I've never seen you looking so... disheveled!"
Disheveled? Well, that was accurate.
After the Christmas holidays, the little eagles of Ravenclaw were shocked to discover that their proud Penelope Clearwater had changed.
The once highly social butterfly had turned into a recluse. Unless required for class, she barely left the dormitory and hadn't set foot in the library even once.
If you ran into trouble with your schoolwork and hoped to ask the ever-knowledgeable, kind-hearted Penelope for help, tough luck. You'd be met with indifference—perhaps even irritation.
"Why not ask Professor Flitwick? That's clearly a better solution."
(How unhelpful.)
You see? That was her response.
Her daily routine was in disarray—sleeping in late and staying awake all night, her wide eyes refusing to close.
And her once impeccable appearance? The girl who used to dress immaculately now had a ghostly pallor, dark circles under her eyes, and a nervous air about her. To be fair, her fragile beauty was still captivating, but the unkempt hair and wrinkled robes told a different story.
In short, Ravenclaw no longer recognized their flower.
This was not the Penelope Clearwater they knew and admired!