The fireplace in the Hufflepuff common room crackled warmly.
The round wooden door was pulled shut tight, sealing off Filch’s echoing footsteps in the corridor outside.
Evelyn climbed into her four-poster bed and drew the curtains closed.
She opened her system panel and double-checked her inventory list.
The first test batch of goods had already been handed over.
Fred and George’s efficiency was faster than an owl express!
She flipped onto her side and stuffed her baseball bat under her pillow.
*Tomorrow after lunch.
Gryffindor Tower storeroom.
Code phrase: “Long Live the Galleon.”*
She closed her eyes and got less than five hours of sleep.
…
The next morning, in the Study of Ancient Runes classroom.
Hermione sat to Evelyn’s right, her quill scratching furiously across her parchment as she took notes.
Evelyn was slouched over the desk, using her fingernail to engrave stick figures into the margin of her textbook.
The instant the bell rang to end class, Hermione snapped her notebook shut and spun around sharply!
“Evelyn.”
“Hmm?”
“What time did you get back last night?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“You’re lying!
The portraits in Hufflepuff told me you didn’t step through the door until eleven forty!”
Evelyn: (ꐦ⊙ᗝ⊙??)
“Since when did you form an intelligence alliance with our portraits?”
Hermione didn’t answer.
She snatched an object out of her satchel and slapped it onto the desk with a sharp *thwack*!
It was a piece of fake dog poop.
Rubber texture, hyper-realistic grooves, and a tiny label stuck to the bottom: *A W&W Workshop Creation.*
“Can you explain *this*?”
“Hermione, where on earth did you get that?”
“A second-year Ravenclaw girl.
During breakfast this morning, she put it right on Professor Flitwick’s chair!”
Hermione kept her voice hushed, her words tumbling out faster and faster.
“When Professor Flitwick sat on it—well, stepped on it after—the entire staff table got a whiff of that scent spray!”
Evelyn: (ˇ᷄ωˇ᷅;)
Fred and George’s sales speed was a whole twelve hours faster than projected.
“W&W Workshop—Weasley Workshop.”
Hermione tapped her finger against the label.
“Except these aren’t magical products.
They’re Muggle prank toys!”
“How could you tell?”
“Evelyn, I’m Muggle-born too!
My cousin has a whole box of these rubber novelties in his desk drawer!”
Hermione took a deep breath and shoved the fake dog poop back into her satchel.
She crossed her hands on the desk and locked her sharp gaze onto Evelyn.
“You’re supplying the Weasley twins.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t get back to your dorm until eleven forty last night, and the twins started distributing early this morning.
That gap in time is just enough for a meeting, product inspection, and route allocation!”
Hermione: (frustrated expression)
Evelyn tilted her head at her.
“Detective Granger, did you spend all your homework time tracking me down?”
“I’m trying to protect you!
Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
Hermione recited without missing a beat: “*Hogwarts School Rules*, Article 147: Students are strictly forbidden from engaging in commercial transactions on campus!
Article 203: Bringing items that disrupt instructional order onto school grounds is prohibited!”
“Did you seriously memorize all the school rules?”
“The first three hundred!”
“Hermione, do you know the rules even better than McGonagall?”
“Don’t change the subject!
Evelyn, if Severus Snape finds out, what do you think he’ll do?”
“Deduct points, obviously.”
“He’ll deduct your house points to an all-time historical low!
Hufflepuff has already lost over a hundred points because of you!”
Hermione’s voice raised half a pitch, causing a nearby Ravenclaw student to glance over.
Hermione instantly lowered her volume, leaning forward until she was practically whispering in Evelyn’s ear.
“Promise me you’ll stop this business.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
“Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I need to order a new batch next month, which requires advance capital, and my current cash flow isn’t enough yet.”
Hermione opened and closed her mouth twice without making a sound.
Hermione: (ᗒ᷄﹏ᗕ᷅)
“You’re planning to expand?!”
“Hermione, listen to me.”
Evelyn turned her chair around to face her directly.
“Don’t your wrists ever ache horribly when you’re doing homework?”
“What?”
“You take more notes daily than anyone else in our year.
At your writing speed, the strain on your right wrist every day is equivalent to casting spells for four hours straight.”
Hermione froze.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I counted.”
Evelyn pulled a small velvet box from an inner pocket of her robes and placed it gently on the back of Hermione’s hand.
The box was light, no larger than her palm.
Its dark blue velvet fabric bore no markings whatsoever.
“Open it.”
Hermione hesitated for three seconds before lifting the lid.
Inside lay a quill.
The shaft was made of a silver-gray metal, and the tapered tip was ground to an exquisite, ultra-fine point.
The fletching consisted of translucent, pale blue wings.
As light passed through them, it refracted into fine, iridescent rainbow patterns.
Hermione stared at the quill for five seconds.
“What is this?”
“System Shop limited-time deal: The Magic Quill of Never-Ending Stamina.”
Hermione: (⊙Д⊙;??)
“When you write with it, the tip automatically adjusts its angle to eliminate all muscle fatigue.
Even if you write for twelve hours straight, your hand will feel as fresh as when you first picked it up.”
The moment Hermione’s finger touched the shaft, the thin blue wings trembled slightly.
“Plus, its ink capacity is twenty times that of a normal quill, so no dipping required.
It automatically adapts to paper hardness, so it’ll never tear through parchment.”
Hermione yanked her hand back instantly.
“You’re bribing me.”
“I’m giving a friend a gift.”
“You’re using my academic pain points to systematically destroy my willpower!”
“Hermione, don’t you think this quill sounds useful?”
“I haven’t even tried it yet!”
“Then try it.”
Hermione stared at the quill in the box for eight full seconds.
Her fingers twitched twice against the desk—an unconscious habit she had whenever her joints ached from writing too long.
“I can’t take your gift.
That would mean I’m condoning your illicit enterprise.”
“This quill has nothing to do with the business.
I redeemed it myself; it didn’t pass through any workshop channels.”
“That’s even worse!
You redeemed it using Mischief Points, which means its ultimate source is rule-breaking!”
“Hermione, you didn’t seem this conflicted when you helped me lengthen the C4 detonation cord last time.”
Hermione blushed bright red.
Hermione: (≖ᗝ≖;)
“That was an emergency!”
“What emergency?
If I recall correctly, your exact words were, ‘At least lengthen the fuse so you don’t blow yourself up.’ You call that an emergency?
That’s called being an accomplice.”
Hermione’s lips pressed into a tight line as the blush spread from her cheeks down to her ears.
Most of the students in the classroom had already cleared out.
Evelyn nudged the box an inch closer to Hermione.
“Have you calculated how many sets of notes and essays you’ll have to write between now and final exams?”
Hermione remained silent.
“The tendons in your wrist are already revolting.
Yesterday during note-taking, you shook out your hand three times.”
Hermione pulled her right hand beneath the desk and gently rubbed her wrist.
Your hand won’t hurt while writing me up.”
Hermione closed her eyes, her lips moving silently as if reciting school regulations to herself.
Ten seconds later, she opened her eyes and picked up the quill.
The sheer blue wings unfurled between her fingers.
The quill automatically adjusted its angle, nestling perfectly into the crook of her hand.
Hermione wrote a line on a blank piece of parchment.
The glide of the tip across the parchment was smooth without a single hitch.
The ink flowed full and even; even the most strenuous capital letters required only a third of her usual effort.
She finished a line and paused.
Her wrist didn’t ache at all!
Hermione: (⊙ω⊙;)
She wrote three more lines, her pace quickening by the second.
“Evelyn.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m taking your quill, but I am *not* giving up my stance.”
Hermione slipped the quill into an inner pocket of her satchel and zipped it shut tight.
“Your business is going to blow up eventually, and when it does, I’ll pull you out of the fire.”
“Thanks, Hermione.”
“But if anything you sell hurts someone, I’m going straight to McGonagall!”
“I’m selling whoopee cushions and fake dog poop, Hermione.
The worst that can happen is a mild scare.”
“What about that Sneezewort Powder?
The one with triple allergen concentration?”
Evelyn smirked.
“That one’s not on the shelves yet.
I’ll launch it once we build up our brand reputation.”
“You actually have a product rollout strategy?!”
Hermione picked up her satchel and stood up.
After taking two steps, she turned right back around.
“By the way…
does this quill really never need refilling?”
“At your writing volume, it should last about three months.
Just come to me for a refill when it runs out.”
Hermione adjusted her satchel strap, the tips of her ears still tinged with pink.
She reached the classroom door, paused, and tossed a sentence back over her shoulder.
“You owe me a peer review on three Transfiguration essay drafts!”
Her figure vanished around the corridor corner.
Evelyn leaned back against her chair, crossing her legs casually.
[Ding!
Hermione Granger’s favorability increased!
Current status: Steadfast Accomplice Bestie.]
[Mischief Points +60!
Current Total: 1800.]
Evelyn closed the panel and was about to get up.
Suddenly, the system interface popped open, bold red text taking over her entire field of vision.
[Emergency Quest Triggered: Halloween Crisis Countdown…
14 days!]
[Quest Objective: Alter the course of key events on Halloween night.]
[Reward: Mischief Points × 500, Unlock System Shop “Crisis Intervention” Exclusive Shelf.]
[Failure Penalty: All currently obtained NPC favorability randomly rolled back by 30%.]
Evelyn stared at the penalty clause and slowly sat up straight.
She pulled a school calendar card from her pocket and flipped to October.
October 31st: Halloween Feast.
What happened in the original story?
A troll broke into the dungeon, and Hermione was trapped in the girls’ bathroom.
Evelyn shoved the card back into her pocket, stood up, and kicked her chair back under the desk.
She walked out of the classroom, passing by a window in the third-floor corridor.
Outside, next to Hagrid’s hut, stood a stack of over a dozen massive pumpkins.
Every single one was as big as a washing machine!
Evelyn stared at those pumpkins for three seconds.
She turned around and headed toward the staircase.
The rhythm of her boots clicking against the flagstones was two beats faster than usual.
In the upper right corner of her system panel, the countdown ticked down a notch.
[13 days, 23 hours, 47 minutes.]