Inside Professor McGonagall’s office, a tin of ginger newts had been pushed to the corner of the desk.
The newly cleared space was just enough to fit a pig.
The pink pig sat squarely in the center of the desk, hind hooves crossed, front hooves resting on its knees.
It sat with impeccable posture, looking for all the world like a noble lady attending afternoon tea.
Tulle from its tutu spread across half the desk, sequins shimmering in the candlelight.
Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, hands clasped, staring at the pig for ten solid seconds.
The pig stared back at her, the flickering candlelight reflected in its bead-like black eyes.
Snape leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed over his chest.
Water dripped from the hem of his robes, pumpkin guts clung to his leather boots, and a conspicuous layer of pink glitter dusted his footwear.
Hermione stood by the door, wringing her bag strap into a tight spiral.
Evelyn stood next to her, combat boots planted over a puddle of water.
Fred and George squeezed together in an armchair in the corner, sharing the single seat shoulder to shoulder.
“Miss Valentine, from the beginning,” Professor McGonagall spoke up.
“Which beginning?”
“From the moment you appeared in the first-floor girls’ bathroom!”
“I heard Hermione didn’t make it to the feast, so I went to look for her.”
“And then?”
“And then the troll showed up.”
“And then?”
Evelyn tilted her head.
“And then the troll turned into this.”
Right on cue, the pig let out a snort, blowing two tiny wisps of pink mist into the air.
Professor McGonagall took off her spectacles, wiped the lenses with a handkerchief, and put them back on.
“Miss Valentine, what magic did you use?” Professor McGonagall’s voice rose sharply.
“To turn a fully grown mountain troll into a pig wearing a tutu?”
“Transfiguration.”
“Transfiguration?” Disbelief rang through McGonagall’s voice.
“A first-year student…
turning a twelve-foot troll into a pig?”
“The tutu proves my sense of aesthetics is intact.”
Professor McGonagall: (ꐦ⊙_⊙;)
Snape stepped away from the bookshelf and approached the desk, tapping his fingertip against the pig’s head.
The pig looked up at him, its mouth splitting into a grin to reveal a neat row of tiny white teeth.
“Transfiguration cannot alter a living creature’s clothing,” Snape said, his voice cold enough to frost over.
“Attaching garments requires overlaying additional spells.
Nothing in the first-year curriculum permits such a combination.”
He stared at Evelyn.
“Simultaneously altering size, species, and even adding clothing and behavioral patterns?
Impossible.”
“And?”
“So you are lying.”
Evelyn blinked.
Hermione wrung her bag strap another half-turn tighter.
A cat’s meow echoed outside the door as Mrs.
Norris’s shadow drifted past the crack at the bottom.
Evelyn glanced sideways at the twins in the corner.
Fred was picking at the leather armrest with his index finger, while George was lightly swinging his leg.
Both caught her glance at the same time.
Evelyn turned back and offered Professor McGonagall a genuinely sincere smile.
“Professor, I was too nervous just now and forgot a detail.”
“What detail?”
“The troll turning into a pig had nothing to do with me.”
Silence fell over the office for two seconds.
Snape’s brows knit together.
“By the time I reached the bathroom, the troll was already like this.”
“Already?”
“Yes!
I opened the door and saw a pig in a tutu dancing, while Hermione stood there completely dumbfounded.”
Professor McGonagall turned slowly toward Hermione.
“Miss Granger?”
Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it.
She darted a look at Evelyn, who was frantically giving her subtle eye signals.
“I…
I was too scared at the time, Professor.
I didn’t see what happened clearly.” Hermione gripped her bag strap tightly.
Snape sneered.
“So the troll put on the tutu itself?”
“Maybe someone tampered with it beforehand,” Evelyn said, putting her hands behind her back as her gaze drifted toward the corner.
“For instance, certain upperclassmen known for pranks might have set up trick props in advance.”
Fred’s fingers froze.
George stopped swinging his leg.
Both heads snapped up, their faces written over with utter disbelief.
Evelyn continued smoothly, “When the pumpkin lantern blew up, I saw two figures running past in the corridor.
Fred: (ꐦ⊙ᗝ⊙…)
George: (ꐦ⊙ᗝ⊙…)
Professor McGonagall slowly swiveled her chair, shifting her gaze to the armchair.
“Messrs.
Weasley.”
Fred swallowed hard.
George nudged Fred’s heel with his toe.
After two seconds of dead silence, Fred suddenly slapped his thigh and stood up with a jerk!
“Professor, I confess!”
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
Snape raised one as well.
“That’s right, it was us!” Fred stood hands on hips, looking as heroically tragic as a martyr headed for execution.
George stood up beside him, standing shoulder to shoulder.
“We packed our homemade Transfiguration bomb inside the pumpkin lantern.
We only meant to turn the pumpkin into carrots, but we didn’t expect it to hit the troll.”
Fred: (˘ω˘)
“The power exceeded expectations.
We deeply regret the oversight.”
George added, “However, judging by the outcome, we saved the lives of two fellow students.
Our merits offset our misdeeds.”
Professor McGonagall’s right eyelid twitched twice.
Snape strode over to the armchair, looming over the twins.
His cast shadow completely enveloped both redheads.
“Weasleys.
Your ‘homemade Transfiguration bomb’ can simultaneously alter a target’s size, species, attire, and behavioral patterns?”
“Our products have always maintained superior quality!” Fred puffed out his chest.
“Then demonstrate it here.
Right now.”
Fred’s chest deflated half an inch.
“What?”
“A live demonstration.
Since it is your invention, recreating it should be simple enough.”
George quietly slipped his hand into his robe pocket and felt around.
He found only a single Nosebleed Nougat and two Bronze Knuts.
George: (ꐦˇ᷄ωˇ᷅;)
“Professor, the core formula is a trade secret.
We can’t demonstrate it in public.”
“A trade secret?” Snape’s voice cut like ice.
“Since when has the Weasley family possessed any secret worth protecting?”
Fred’s ears flushed red.
Evelyn chimed in, “Professor, protecting a formula is a legitimate commercial interest.
You can’t deny their rights as inventors just because their family is poor.”
Snape whipped his head around, glaring at Evelyn.
“Miss Valentine, I did not ask you.”
“But you are insulting my friends.”
Evelyn’s expression remained perfectly flat, as if she were commenting on tomorrow’s weather.
Fred’s ears turned from red to pink.
George shoved the Bronze Knuts back into his pocket, the corners of his mouth curling upward slightly.
Professor McGonagall rapped on her desk.
The sharp sound made the pig hop two steps to the side.
“Enough!
Fifty points from Gryffindor for each of the Weasley brothers, and two weeks of detention.”
“Professor, they saved Hermione!” Evelyn called out.
“Using unapproved experimental items on school grounds warrants strict disciplinary action!”
Professor McGonagall stood up and tapped the pig’s forehead lightly with her wand.
The pig let out a long yawn.
“The Transfiguration effect is very stable and will not wear off within twenty-four hours.
I shall contact Hagrid to deal with it.”
Professor McGonagall turned to Hermione.
“Miss Granger, are you unhurt?”
“No, Professor.”
“Then return to your dormitory.”
Hermione nodded.
When she reached the doorway, she glanced back at Evelyn, her lips moving, though no sound came out.
Evelyn flashed an “OK” hand signal.
Hermione quickly vanished down the corridor.
“Miss Valentine, you may leave as well.”
Evelyn was about to turn away when Snape spoke up.
“Wait.”
Snape circled behind the pig, bending down to carefully inspect the ribbon tied around its neck.
Resting at the knot was a tiny fleck of silver-gray residue.
The fragment bore a metallic sheen, its edges etched with intricate patterns.
“This mark,” Snape straightened up and thrust his palm before Fred, “what is it?”
Fred stared at the flake, straining to maintain his smile.
“Core formula.
Trade secret.”
Snape pulled his hand back and slipped the fragment into a small glass vial.
“Professor McGonagall, I strongly suggest a more thorough investigation.
The Weasley brothers’ testimony is riddled with holes, and Miss Valentine’s account is completely self-contradictory.”
“What do you propose?”
“Private interrogation.” Snape’s gaze locked onto Evelyn.
“Tomorrow afternoon.
My office.”
Evelyn tilted her head.
“Ask about what?”
“Ask what on earth is inside that head of yours.”
He turned on his heel and strode out of the office, the gust created by his swirling robes making the pig on the desk wobble twice.
Professor McGonagall waved a hand wearily.
“All of you, out.”
The five filed out of the office.
The door clicked shut behind them, sealing away Professor McGonagall’s tired sigh.
Out in the corridor, Fred was the first to speak.
“Little Evie.”
“Hmm?”
“The speed with which you threw us under the bus just now was faster than our broomsticks.”
“Sorry.”
“Who asked for an apology?” George leaned in, keeping his voice low.
“It’s an absolute honor.”
Fred slung an arm around Evelyn’s shoulder, his thumb pressing down gently.
“We’d go to Azkaban for you, let alone two weeks of detention.”
George placed his hand on her other shoulder.
“Though you really ought to raise our cut by a point.
Fifty-five to forty-five is a rip-off.
It should at least be sixty-forty.”
Evelyn looked left, then right.
Matching grins hung on both faces, their eyes burning bright.
Evelyn: (ˇ᷄⌓ˇ᷅;)
“Fifty-five stays.
But while you’re in detention, I’ll handle the deliveries for you.”
Fred tightened his arm around her.
“Little Evie, that’s even sweeter than a bigger cut!”
George leaned close to her ear, his breath lightly brushing her hair.
“Next time you throw us under the bus, at least rehearse the script with us first.”
Fred gave her shoulder blade a gentle pat.
“Seriously though, what was with that pig?”
“Trade secret.”
Fred burst into laughter.
Unclasping his arm, he exchanged a glance with George.
“We’re off, Little Evie.
See you tomorrow morning for Day One of detention.”
The two red-headed figures disappeared around the bend of the staircase.
…
Evelyn stood alone in the empty corridor as the system panel automatically popped up.
[Mischief Points +160!
Reason: Successfully shifted blame onto core NPCs and triggered emotional spikes in multiple characters.]
[Fred Weasley Favorability increased!
Current Relationship: Accomplice willing to go through fire and water for you.]
[George Weasley Favorability increased!
Current Relationship: Accomplice willing to go through fire and water for you.]
[Current Total: 2,460.]
At the bottom of the panel, a line of fine text slowly surfaced.
[Warning: Severus Snape’s Suspicion Meter regarding you has breached the threshold!]
[During tomorrow’s “private interrogation,” the target is extremely likely to use Legilimency.]
[Recommendation: Prepare false memories in advance, or redeem defensive items.]
Evelyn closed the panel, her fingers brushing against an empty glass vial inside her inner robe pocket.
She leaned against the cold stone wall, the toe of her combat boot chipping off a flake of plaster.
“Legilimency,” she murmured under her breath, a smile gradually curving her lips.
She opened the System Shop and skipped straight to page seven of the defensive item section.
On the shelf, only a single item glowed.
[Mental Firewall: Pink Piggy Phalanx (Mind-Pollution Type)]
Evelyn stared at the text, her smile broadening.
Without hesitation, she hit the redeem button.