A Quiet Week (Until Red Got Involved)
"Aaaaah, I hate this!" Daphne groaned dramatically as she collapsed onto the desk. Around her were several open books: school regulations, rules of conduct, and clauses about magical creatures.
Beside her, Hermione was writing quickly, focused on the book in front of her. The sudden noise from Daphne startled her; she looked up briefly, gave her a flat stare, and went right back to work.
At the next table, Harry and Draco were also writing silently. They lifted their heads for just a second at their classmate's complaint, sighed… and kept writing.
Meanwhile, Professor Flitwick sat at his desk, calmly grading other students' papers. He looked up for only a moment at the commotion, then returned to his task, adding notes to various scrolls.
"If you complained less and wrote more, you'd finish faster," the professor said sternly, without even lifting his gaze again.
"Ugh," Daphne grunted, though she eventually straightened up and resumed writing—still mumbling under her breath: "We're wizards. We're supposed to wave our wands and get automatic copies of everything. Or enchant a quill to write for us. Or create a diary that talks back!"
"Why would you want a diary that talks back?" asked Hermione, pausing for a second. But as soon as she realized the trap, she shook her head, determined not to be distracted, and kept writing.
"I don't know… to have a weird paper friend," Daphne replied naturally.
"That sounds terrifying," Draco commented from his table.
"I think you just described something cursed. It'd definitely end up possessing your body," added Harry with a dark smile.
"Your assignment…," Flitwick said in a dry tone, lifting his head to give them a silent warning.
The four quickly returned to writing as if nothing had happened.
"What's so bad about something that talks back?" Daphne muttered softly, still thinking about it.
"Because what you're describing is like imprinting a personality onto an object that has none. You'd need something like a soul—fake or real. Or you'd have to embed a personality based on your own, like the Sorting Hat," Harry explained calmly, without stopping his writing. "Why do you think there's no other hat like it?" he added casually.
"Tsk… whatever. I'm sick of this assignment," Daphne muttered, slumping again in frustration, while Harry just rolled his eyes and kept working.
Professor Flitwick sighed and looked out the window, as if seeking patience from the scenery.
"Alright. You may finish for today," he finally announced, in a tone that made it clear their conversations were more exhausting than grading scrolls.
The four of them closed their notebooks, grabbed their books, and walked up to the professor's desk to turn in their work. Their backs ached slightly from sitting so long… and even more so when they thought of what was still ahead.
"So… what were you saying about a diary that talks back?" Draco asked with interest as the four of them walked down the hallway.
"I was just saying that if you ever find one, you should be suspicious. Not every magical object that can talk to you is good. A lot of them are cursed or enchanted with some purpose—and in most cases, that purpose won't be in your favor," Harry replied seriously. After all, with access to the Potter Library—where there was basically information on everything—it wasn't rare to come across books with dark spells or dangerous artifacts. Luckily, Gris made sure to carefully mark anything potentially harmful.
"If we find a book that talks… we burn it. Deal?" Daphne said with complete sincerity.
"Well, at least this week's been pretty calm. I guess that's the one good thing about being grounded. Normally we're running all over the castle chasing Red," Hermione commented with a small smile.
"Your innocent happiness makes me sad," Draco replied with an amused grin.
Harry could only nod silently, acknowledging the painful truth in that sentence.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, confused.
"Are you seriously asking? You're the one who's spent the most time with Harry and Red. The quieter things are, the more chaotic it's about to get," Daphne explained, grinning mischievously.
Hermione fell silent, thoughtful for a moment.
"Well… it's not always like that," she said at last, though it sounded more like an attempt to convince herself.
"It's not always like that because Mom is around," Harry chimed in with a sigh. "Honestly, I'd rather Red be causing chaos in the common room than staying this quiet for days. Should I send him to Mum?"
"If you do, the entire Ravenclaw common room will hang you upside down until you bring him back. For some reason, Red is even more popular than you," said Draco with a smile.
"Well, I wouldn't call it popularity exactly. More like… everyone wants to know how he was created. Some wouldn't hesitate to dissect him just to see what's inside," added Daphne with a slightly terrifying smile.
"Don't say that!" Hermione protested, visibly upset.
"But it's true. We can't deny we're in the house of the weirdos and nerds," Daphne said, shrugging with amusement.
"Well… every house has its flaws," Hermione defended.
"Slytherin: treacherous and cruel," said Draco mockingly.
"Ravenclaw: eccentric and hypercompetitive," added Harry.
"Gryffindor: reckless and prejudiced," Daphne finished with a grin.
"Hufflepuff doesn't have many flaws… Actually, in some ways, they might be the best—more loyal, more dependable… But you could also say they're too neutral and not very competitive," Harry reflected, struggling to find a stronger criticism.
"How did we end up talking about the flaws of the Houses?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"Right… Red," said Harry, snapping back to the point. "We should hurry up and check what he's doing."
The others nodded instantly and picked up the pace.
…
"Aaah, I knew it," said Harry as he entered his room and saw it was completely empty. Not even in the common room could he find his family's chaotic little dragon.
"Want to go look for him? There's still an hour left before curfew," suggested Draco, adjusting his robes.
"Yeah… better go get him," Harry replied, sounding slightly exhausted.
Meanwhile, Daphne and Hermione were waiting in the common room. Technically, girls were allowed to enter the boys' dormitories—a little-known rule. But if a boy tried to climb up to the girls' side, an alarm would sound immediately and the stairs would turn into a ramp to throw him out mercilessly. Even so, it was better not to go up unless absolutely necessary… just to avoid being stared at by all the boys in the area.
"Was he in there?" Hermione asked as soon as she saw them come down.
"No. But it's not hard to figure out where he went," said Harry calmly, pulling out the Marauder's Map. This time, it had new areas added—at least half the school was now charted, and the names moved through the hallways like little fireflies.
And there it was: the third floor—where only those who wanted a slow and painful death were supposed to go. Red's name appeared. Right next to it: Fluffy.
"Well… why not take advantage of this?" said Harry with a sly smile. "After all, the Headmaster couldn't complete his little punishment—clearly meant for something else—so we might as well return the favor."
"Can't we be normal, average students in a school of magic and wizardry?" asked Draco with resignation.
"No," Daphne answered for everyone, wearing a shameless grin.
"Fine… guess it can't be helped," sighed Draco, giving in.
"I'd like to remind you that we're currently under punishment," said Hermione, crossing her arms.
"But they never said we were forbidden from going to the third floor. More specifically, they said 'those who don't want to die in the most painful way possible should stay away.' So logically, those who do want to suffer should go," Harry replied with a mischievous smile.
"You know that's not what the Headmaster meant," Hermione snapped, clearly annoyed.
"Does everyone have their invisibility cloak?" asked Harry, deliberately ignoring Hermione's puffed cheeks and disapproving stare.
"Always," said Daphne, proudly holding hers up.
"So that's why you made us buy them… even though you've got a permanent one," Draco realized aloud.
The three of them turned to look at Hermione. The rule-abiding one. The voice of reason.
She looked back at them in silence for a long moment. Then she sighed. "Yes… I've got mine," she said, surrendering to the inevitable madness.
"Then it's an adventure," Daphne declared, grinning with excitement.
"Wait," Hermione interrupted. "If the place we're going to has any kind of alarm, the Headmaster will be alerted. I'm sure he left some kind of surveillance."
"Don't worry," said Harry with a near-dangerous smile. "In exactly one hour, two small and very friendly house-elves with a thirst for revenge will be emptying the Gringotts vaults of our beloved Headmaster. He'll have to leave in a hurry if he doesn't want to lose everything."
"Harry… look at the names—Red and Fluffy," Draco said suddenly, voice serious, pointing at the map with a trembling finger.
The others immediately looked down.
And there they were.
Both Red and Fluffy were moving through the hallways… leaving the restricted area where they were supposed to stay.
The four of them froze, eyes wide. They didn't need to say a word to understand what this meant.
Red had just freed Fluffy.
A giant three-headed dog.
In the middle of a magic school.
Full of unsuspecting students.
"This… I didn't see coming," Harry muttered, his eyes fixed on the names bouncing around the halls as if they were cheerfully skipping.
"We need to warn Professor Flitwick. Now," said Hermione urgently, already on her feet, abandoning any idea of their little adventure.
"Run," ordered Harry without wasting a second.
The four of them bolted out of the Ravenclaw common room, racing down corridors and staircases, hoping the professor was still in his office…
…and that it wasn't already too late.