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"Rita Skeeter? That reporter from the Daily Prophet?" Fred asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What on earth does this have to do with her?"
George, who had been thinking along the same lines, added, "Besides, it's definitely not mutual—she's destined for a one-sided crush if anything!"
Kyle, showing little interest in pursuing the topic any further, replied in a dismissive tone, "What a pity," and promptly made his way between the two of them, eager to escape the conversation.
It was already lunchtime, and all Kyle wanted was to sit down and enjoy his steak and pumpkin juice. Standing around at the entrance of the Great Hall was not how he envisioned his midday break. However, Fred and George Weasley had other ideas. They seemed determined to stick to Kyle like glue, following him all the way to the Hufflepuff table.
"Even without hard evidence, I still believe you had something to do with the Charms classroom explosion." Fred said with a knowing smirk, pushing Cedric aside to take a seat next to Kyle. He grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice, took a big swig, and continued. "Why else would something like that happen as soon as you arrived? It must be your influence."
Kyle, who had just taken a sip of his own drink, felt the weight of the statement sink in. He nearly choked. What did Fred mean by that? He had done nothing but help during the incident, yet here was Fred, trying to pin the blame on him.
Without saying a word, Kyle raised his middle finger in silent protest.
Fred remained unfazed. He continued speaking as though nothing was amiss. "Honestly, it's a real shame you weren't sorted into Gryffindor."
"Yeah," George chimed in, wearing his trademark grin. "If you were with us, you'd have been there for the first Potions lesson. With a bit of luck, we might have seen Snape end up in the hospital wing."
Fred's face lit up with an animated excitement as he imagined the possibility. "Imagine! If you managed to send Snape to the hospital, you'd be hailed as the greatest hero in Hogwarts history!"
His voice grew louder with enthusiasm. Fred was so caught up in his vivid fantasy that he didn't even notice Cedric tugging at his robe, trying to subtly warn him of the approaching danger.
"Let's be honest, Kyle. Hufflepuff isn't where you belong. You're a Gryffindor at heart," Fred finished with a dramatic flair.
Kyle, smiling and somewhat enjoying the absurdity of the conversation, responded calmly, "Well, Fred, George... Let's assume you're right. But why do you think the Gryffindor first-years would follow my lead and join me in rebelling against Professor Snape?"
He paused for effect before adding with a cheeky grin, "In my opinion, the Gryffindor students are all well-behaved, respectful, and disciplined. They'd never cause trouble for their head of house, right?"
Fred's face froze, eyebrows raised. "Well-behaved? In Gryffindor?" He turned to George, flabbergasted, "Is this guy for real?"
Before Fred could continue, a voice, cold and devoid of humor, interrupted from behind.
"Mr. Weasley, I believe you were just saying something about Gryffindor students being well-behaved?"
Fred and George visibly stiffened. The cheerful banter drained from their faces, replaced by a mix of fear and regret. They slowly turned around to face the speaker, none other than Professor McGonagall.
"Professor McGonagall!" Fred stammered, his forced smile barely holding. "I didn't realize you were there. This is all just a big misunderstanding. I can explain!"
"There's no need for explanations, Mr. Weasley. I understood you perfectly," Professor McGonagall said, her tone stern but controlled. "Consider yourself lucky it's me standing here and not Professor Snape. Gryffindor will lose ten points for disrespect toward a professor."
Fred and George exchanged wide-eyed glances, clearly relieved that things weren't as bad as they could have been. Points could be regained, after all.
But McGonagall wasn't done. "And, in addition, given your behavior at the Sorting Ceremony, both of you will be serving detention—every evening for the next week."
Fred's face paled. George, equally shaken, managed a weak protest. "The Sorting Ceremony? But... that was ages ago!"
Detention was a far more serious punishment for the twins. Points could be lost and won back, but the thought of seven long nights spent in confinement was enough to wipe the smiles off their faces completely.
"I'm afraid there's no escaping it," McGonagall said firmly, her tone unyielding. "Detention starts at 11 p.m. tonight. You'll report to Filch, who will take you to the trophy room. There, you'll transcribe the roster of Gryffindor's finest students—by hand, of course. No magic, no shorthand quills. Each of you must complete the task individually, and you'll continue copying the roster until it's done."
The twins were dumbstruck, their previous cheerfulness completely shattered.
"Now, Mr. Weasley, kindly return to your table," McGonagall added, gesturing toward the Gryffindor side of the hall.
With their heads hung low, Fred and George trudged back to their table, their expressions the very picture of despair.
Kyle, who had been biting back laughter throughout the exchange, finally allowed himself a small smile. Once the twins were out of sight, he turned to McGonagall with an air of innocence. "Good afternoon, Professor. Lovely to see you here."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Chopper," McGonagall replied, her voice softening just slightly.
"You can just call me Kyle, Professor," he offered with a friendly grin. "Have you had lunch yet? If not, you're welcome to join us."
Cedric, who had been silent throughout the ordeal, quickly scooted over, making room for the professor to sit.
McGonagall allowed herself a slight smile. "I've already eaten, thank you," she replied, declining the invitation with her usual dignity. Professor McGonagall was known for maintaining her decorum at all times, often opting to dine in her office rather than with the students.
"That's a shame," Kyle remarked, pretending to be disappointed. Cedric and the other Hufflepuffs mirrored his sentiment, nodding their heads in agreement as if they had all been looking forward to having Professor McGonagall at their table.
McGonagall glanced at the group of well-behaved Hufflepuff students, then shifted her gaze toward the nearby Gryffindor table, where chaos reigned. The contrast was stark, and she couldn't help but feel a wave of fatigue wash over her. It was times like these that she wondered why all the good students seemed to end up in other houses. Especially Kyle and Cedric—if only one of them had been sorted into Gryffindor.
This, she thought to herself, was the Sorting Hat's doing.
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End of Chapter
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