Since they already knew how to deal with the three-headed dog, and had confirmed that the item hidden in the corridor on the right side of the 3rd floor was something Hagrid had brought back to the school, this trip to the wooden hut wasn't in vain.
Once some time had passed and Hagrid let down his guard around the three of them again, they could try tricking him once more to find out the true value of the item.
With that, everything would basically become clear.
Of course, there was another way—they could go directly to the corridor on the right side of the 3rd floor and figure out what was hidden there themselves. But doing so would inevitably attract Dumbledore's attention.
The three of them were just curious; they didn't intend to claim the item for themselves, so there was no need to go that far.
In the days that followed, the school remained peaceful. Aside from Professor Flitwick once again pounding on his desk in frustration, nothing particularly noteworthy happened.
Hermione Granger displayed her top-student abilities, which reminded Professor Flitwick of Eda from two years ago—just as bright, and also sorted into Gryffindor. Once again, Professor Flitwick began to suspect that there was something shady going on with the Sorting Hat.
Having missed out on Eda and now Hermione, it was no wonder Professor Flitwick was pounding his desk. Any Head of House would feel upset about this.
Except for Snape. Both Eda and Hermione were Muggle-borns, and Slytherin almost never had students with that kind of background—let alone two in the span of three years.
With nothing better to do, Eda and the twins shifted their focus to the Marauder's Map.
They tried to use it to monitor Quirrell's movements and keep track of his every step.
But Quirrell's actions revealed nothing suspicious—classroom, office, and the Great Hall, crammed with a bunch of names. You could always find Quirrell in one of those three places.
Quirrell's perfectly normal behavior seemed to refute Eda's suspicions of him—but it was exactly because he was acting too normal that it felt deliberate, as if he were hiding something. For those who were paying close attention, it only made him more suspicious.
Eda didn't know how the lofty Dumbledore was observing Quirrell, but she believed that none of Quirrell's actions could escape his eyes. Dumbledore was waiting for the moment Quirrell slipped up.
Whether or not Quirrell made any suspicious moves, life still had to go on as usual—but for Eda, things were a bit rough.
More and more people were finding out that Eda was the "starting Seeker," which meant that Wood's misdirection strategy had worked.
He had successfully shifted the attention of other teams onto Eda, so no one was paying any real attention to the actual Seeker—Harry.
That was a good thing for Gryffindor, but not so great for Eda, because just as many people were eager to see her fail. People are naturally prone to jealousy. Eda was the top of her year, exceptionally talented, and beautiful to boot. Naturally, she attracted more envy than most.
Now that rumors were spreading about Eda playing Quidditch, that jealousy had reached a new height.
Plenty of people were just waiting to see her make a fool of herself.
Of course, all that jealous talk was done behind Eda's back.
If anyone dared to say it to her face, she'd probably fire back with something like, "Jealous? I earned it—twelve years in an orphanage, no parents, no home. Try trading places with me bitch!"
They say words can hurt, but only if you let them. As long as you don't take those "words" to heart, they lose their power. All the gossip and whispers had naturally reached Eda's ears—but she didn't care what those people thought. To her, it was all harmless noise.
That morning, Eda was sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast as usual when the owl post arrived right on time.
A gray owl accurately dropped a copy of The Quibbler into her lap. Eda read the magazine for laughs—the absurd and bizarre articles always made for entertaining reading.
It should have been an ordinary morning, but six long-eared owls carrying a slender parcel made it anything but ordinary.
The long shape clearly resembled a broomstick, and since the parcel was addressed to Harry, it was obvious his broomstick order had arrived that day.
The twins ran over to Harry to join the commotion, but Eda stayed put.
She sipped her porridge while flipping through the latest issue of The Quibbler. She didn't think there was much worth seeing—whatever broom Harry had ordered, she certainly couldn't afford one herself.
Watching the rich kid's purchase would only make her envious, so she figured it was better not to look.
Harry didn't even open the package. He just picked it up and ran off, with Ron trailing eagerly behind him, his eyes practically glued to the parcel in Harry's hands.
"Harry's got a broomstick now," Fred reported when he returned to Eda.
"The latest model—Nimbus 2000," George added, providing the full specs.
Eda closed her copy of The Quibbler and said, "Isn't that the one Oliver recommended? Harry's not short on money. A Nimbus 2000 is no big deal for him—you two should've seen it coming."
"We think… there's something you should probably know…" George said hesitantly, clearly unsure how to break the news to Eda.
"What's wrong? Just say it. You two are acting like bashful girls," Eda said with a grin, glancing at the twins. "Don't tell me you're worried I'll be jealous of Harry? When have you ever seen me jealous of anyone? It's always others who are jealous of me."
As she spoke, Eda swept her gaze around the Great Hall. There were certainly no shortage of people waiting to see her make a fool of herself.
Better a sharp pain than a lingering one—Fred spoke up directly: "Harry didn't buy the broom himself. Someone gave it to him…"
"It couldn't be Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall, could it?" Eda still wasn't taking it seriously, making what she thought was a joke.
"It was Professor McGonagall," George said. "Eda, it's possible that broom was originally meant for you…"
"That's... fine... Professor McGonagall really wants the team to win the Cup. You two need to work hard this year too," Eda said absentmindedly. "I'm full. I'll head to class now."
Fred and George knew Eda far too well.
Her little expressions might fool others, but not them. The way she walked out of the Great Hall looked a little flustered in their eyes.
The newly arrived issue of The Quibbler remained on the long table. Eda hadn't taken it with her—she just left the Hall. She didn't feel like reading anything funny at the moment.
Harry Potter hadn't opened the package, instead leaving the Hall directly, following Professor McGonagall's instructions. But the news that he had a broomstick still spread like wildfire—because they ran into Malfoy at the door.
First-years were not allowed to own their own broomsticks.
The fact that Harry Potter had one and wasn't punished clearly pointed to a special exception.
That exception was, of course, that Harry had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team—only in that case could he reasonably be allowed to own a broomstick, and only then would first-year students accept it without protest.
Since Harry Potter had joined the team, it was obvious who he had replaced. That someone had made it to third year without owning a broomstick. The comparison made it immediately clear who was in and who was out.
Those who had been waiting to see Eda make a fool of herself hadn't expected the joke to come this quickly—barely a week had passed.
They had thought they'd at least have to wait until the actual matches began. It was shockingly fast—so fast, it was hard to believe.
Eda was probably the player with the shortest starting position in Quidditch history.
She hadn't even gotten on the field—there was no way it could have been shorter!
With school just starting, everyone had time on their hands, so the rumors about the position swap between Eda and Harry Potter spread quickly—faster than a Nimbus 2000.
By the afternoon, the whole school knew.
And now, Eda's every move was being watched by people with too much time and too little kindness.
Everything she did was over-analyzed and twisted into proof that she had "lost her starter position."
The fact that she ate very little at breakfast was spun into "milking pity, trying to get sympathy."
Borrowing a quill in class? That meant she was "playing poor," claiming she lost to Harry because she couldn't afford a good broom.
Not answering a question in Transfiguration class? Clearly, she thought Professor McGonagall was biased—that she had lost her spot because the professor favored Harry Potter.
In short, the school's gossip mill had one unified conclusion: Eda had "lost it."
Harry's grand entrance had delivered swift justice—and wasn't it satisfying?
Serves her right for always looking down on others and acting like she was above everyone else!
Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon: Dragonel