Ch: 21

Harry and his friends had broken school rules to infiltrate Slytherin, but in the end, they gained almost nothing. The only information they managed to obtain was that "Malfoy is not the heir."

This couldn't be good news for those who had assumed he would be the successor. After all, if it wasn't him, who else could be suspect? The only other possibility that came to mind was Mirabelle Beresford, who shared the same ambition of being chosen—though her ideology was the complete opposite of pure-blood supremacy.

If she were controlling the Slytherin monster, her first targets would logically be Gilderoy Lockhart and Draco Malfoy himself.

"Well, let's just be glad it wasn't a complete waste of time," said Hermione, still disguised as Mirabelle, while they waited for the Polyjuice Potion's effects to wear off in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

They had plenty of time to spare, thanks to Hermione's meticulous research. Without her careful preparation, Harry would probably have spent hours wandering around aimlessly, searching for the Slytherin common room. In truth, Hermione had been essential to this entire investigation.

But that didn't mean she had executed everything perfectly. Hermione had made two fatal mistakes.

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the bathroom, announcing the arrival of the person who had been drawn in by those very mistakes. Looking toward the entrance, Harry saw the girl they had passed earlier in front of the Slytherin dormitory—Edith Reinagle.

"Mirabelle, I need to talk to you for a moment. Is that all right?" Edith's voice carried a note of suspicion.

"Wh-what?" Hermione stammered.

Hardly anyone ever came near this particular bathroom, yet here was Edith, drawn by her friendship with Mirabelle. This was Hermione's first critical mistake: choosing to disguise herself as Mirabelle in the first place.

Mirabelle Beresford was impossible to overlook. Her appearance was so striking it could make a Veela writhe with jealousy, and her presence commanded attention wherever she went. Moreover, she possessed a stubborn, utterly unique personality that made her memorable to anyone who encountered her.

Selecting such a distinctive person for an undercover mission was a clear tactical error, completely at odds with their objective of conducting the investigation without revealing their true identities. If anything, sneaking into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom while disguised as Mirabelle would be more conspicuous than helpful.

"I thought something seemed off," Edith continued, her eyes narrowing. "And I was curious about why you were with those two."

"Th-that's..." Hermione faltered.

While Hermione was undeniably clever, she struggled when faced with unexpected situations. She possessed above-average quick thinking and could adapt better than Ron in most circumstances, but she hadn't yet developed Harry's natural intuition and spontaneous problem-solving abilities.

Finding herself cornered like this, she felt the familiar weakness of being at a complete loss for words. Still, she managed to summon what she imagined Mirabelle might say in such a situation.

"It's none of your business, Edith. Whatever I do is my own affair."

That was good, Hermione thought to herself, mentally celebrating the response. It was exactly the sort of thing Mirabelle would say, and it effectively deflected unwanted questions. Even if Edith pressed further, she could probably escape by simply maintaining that aloof attitude.

Mirabelle's natural selfishness was actually an advantage in moments like this. However, Hermione failed to realize she had just made another fatal mistake—one that would quickly lead to her exposure.

"On second thought..." Edith paused, studying her carefully.

"What's the matter?"

"You're not Mirabelle."

Hermione gasped and instinctively glanced at the mirror. The reflection showed the same beautiful young woman with flowing golden hair as before—the transformation hadn't worn off yet. But this reflexive action was another devastating mistake, essentially confirming Edith's accusation through her guilty reaction.

"Wh-what are you talking about? What's different about me—"

"Enough with the acting," Edith interrupted. "To be honest, I had a vague suspicion when we spoke in front of the dormitory."

She had suspected something then, but only now did she have proof. Edith had followed them this far specifically because of that earlier doubt, and the reason for her suspicion was rooted in yet another fatal error.

"Mirabelle... doesn't call me by my first name," she said quietly, fixing Hermione with a piercing stare. "She calls me 'Reinagle.' Always by my surname."

"!!" The revelation hit Hermione like a physical blow.

Of course—now that Edith mentioned it, Mirabelle never used people's first names. She maintained that formal distance with everyone, always addressing them by their family names. This was an irreversible mistake. The only thing left to do was prevent her true identity from being discovered.

They knew she was a fake Mirabelle, but they still didn't know who she really was. In that case, the only option was to flee. After all, impersonating another student was a serious violation of school rules with no possible excuse.

If Snape or McGonagall learned about this, she would definitely lose more than a hundred house points, and at worst, face expulsion.

But at that critical moment, Ron—completely oblivious to the delicate situation—shouted angrily, "What are you going to do, Hermione? She's figured us out!"

"You idiot...!" Hermione hissed through gritted teeth, furious that he had revealed her name so carelessly. But it was too late.

Edith's eyes widened in surprise before she looked at the three of them with sudden understanding.

"I see... Hermione Granger. Well, thinking about it objectively, the only second-years capable of such advanced disguise magic would be Mirabelle and you. So does that mean one of the two people behind you is Harry Potter?"

"Uh..." Hermione's voice trailed off helplessly.

It was over. At this point, running would be pointless. There was only one option left: securing Edith's silence. Given how thoroughly they'd been exposed, it wouldn't be wise to antagonize her further. Their fate now rested entirely in her hands.

To avoid losing house points or facing expulsion, they had no choice but to appeal to her mercy.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said desperately. "But please listen—we weren't doing this as some kind of prank."

"Then what for?"

"To track down the Heir of Slytherin and stop them before there are any more victims."

Edith looked puzzled at Hermione's explanation. The fact that they had targeted the Christmas holidays, when fewer students would be around, suggested they had a specific suspect in mind. Otherwise, it would have been terribly inefficient, especially since most Slytherin students, including Mirabelle, had already left for the break.

Even if there was a potential heir among the students, the chances of finding them among those who had remained at school were slim.

"We thought... maybe Malfoy was the one," Hermione admitted reluctantly.

"Malfoy? No way." Edith waved her hand dismissively.

He was certainly a purist, but he wasn't truly extreme in his beliefs. More precisely, he lacked the courage to actually get his hands dirty. In short, he was all talk and no action.

"Malfoy doesn't have the spine to actually kill anyone. He may act high and mighty, but he's basically a coward."

"But Malfoy's family has been in Slytherin for generations, and he takes pride in that heritage. Plus, he was the first to celebrate when Mrs. Norris was petrified."

"But his reaction was different, wasn't it?" Edith's precise rebuttal left Hermione speechless.

No matter how anyone tried to argue otherwise, the fact remained that Malfoy had been cleared of suspicion. Hermione had no choice but to admit her error.

She clung to Edith, who shrugged in exasperation.

"Look, I may have missed the mark this time, but we still need to find the real Heir of Slytherin. Please, keep this secret from the teachers!"

"Even if you ask me that..." Edith hesitated.

If this had been a simple rule violation, like wandering the halls after curfew, she probably would have overlooked it. But this was different. Disguising oneself as a Slytherin student and infiltrating their dormitory was something that couldn't be ignored.

If she let this slide and they attempted it again, it would create serious problems and damage the trust among Slytherin students. For anyone who had been impersonated, it was nothing short of a violation.

The best way to prevent future incidents was to report it to a teacher immediately.

"Rules are important... surely you understand that?" Edith said with disbelief, turning to leave the bathroom.

But Hermione quickly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. If Edith left now, they might actually face expulsion. She had to be stopped at all costs.

"Wait!"

"No. There's no benefit to keeping quiet."

"I'm sorry for impersonating your friend! Please, just wait!"

Edith turned back angrily to face Hermione. To be honest, she didn't particularly like the girl.

Hermione was a Muggle-born who excelled academically and was beloved by her teachers. Even Mirabelle recognized and respected her abilities, placing her in a class of her own. During their duel at the Dueling Club, Mirabelle had seemed genuinely entertained throughout the match.

Edith was certain she could never engage her friend the way Hermione had, and the thought filled her with a dark, churning jealousy she couldn't suppress.

If it's now, I could have her expelled, she thought.

Their fate was in her hands. If she wanted to remove Hermione from school, it would be easy to accomplish. But was that really what she wanted? Was that truly her desire?

It was true that she disliked Hermione, but that feeling stemmed purely from envious jealousy. Would she really find happiness in forcing someone to drop out over something so petty?

Kicking someone out simply because she didn't like them—how was that any different from Malfoy's behavior? Taking pleasure in an opponent's misfortune and reveling in their downfall—how was that different from his twisted mindset?

It wasn't different at all! That was the mentality of the weak, the very thing Mirabelle despised most. The mindset of a coward!

I'm not weak, she told herself firmly.

Gritting her teeth, she faced Hermione with renewed resolve. This girl was someone even Mirabelle acknowledged and respected. In that case, she would determine the true nature of that strength for herself, and prove to Mirabelle that she could measure up to it.

"Fine... I won't tell the teachers about you," she said finally.

"Really?! Are you serious?!"

"But there's one condition. I have to help you find the Heir of Slytherin."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock at Edith's unexpected offer. Her expression seemed to ask why a Slytherin would want to join their search.

This surprise was understandable—Edith was a Slytherin, and the Reinagle family had been pure-blooded for three generations. It didn't make sense for her to involve herself in hunting down someone from her own house.

"Why would you want to help us?"

"Because we're not unaffected by this," Edith replied seriously.

"What do you mean?"

"Not all Slytherin students are pure-bloods. In fact, about thirty percent of us are half-bloods or Muggle-borns who simply call themselves pure-blood. In other words, if we leave that monster unchecked, there could be casualties from within Slytherin as well."

In fact, students might be targeted as "impurities" precisely because they were in Slytherin, making their blood status even more suspect.

Edith's assertion made sense, and Hermione nodded before looking to Harry for his opinion. Harry gave a quiet nod of agreement. In their current situation, joining forces seemed wiser than simply rejecting each other's help.

"All right, Reinagle. Let's find the Slytherin monster together."

"There's no need to change how you address me now, Granger. I look forward to working with you."

"Then you can call me Hermione."

Edith and Hermione clasped hands, accepting their truce. The interests of Gryffindor and Slytherin had finally aligned.

Harry stepped forward and extended his own hand.

"Well... there are students like you in Slytherin. I was wrong to think all of you were like Malfoy."

"To be fair, there are quite a few extremists. People like Mirabelle, for instance."

They shook hands, releasing any hostility they might have harbored toward each other. While Slytherin and Gryffindor were traditionally at odds, there was no need to maintain that animosity now.

In the current situation, where no one knew who might become the next victim, they were simply fellow students attending the same school. Anyone who would refuse to cooperate by clinging to old house rivalries was either blind to the gravity of the situation or a dangerous purist.

On this day, students from Slytherin and Gryffindor—houses that had been enemies for generations—secretly joined hands in common cause. All for the sake of their school, to protect the place they all called home.

The Christmas holidays ended, and several months passed. Strangely, after Justin was petrified, the attacks stopped completely, and life seemed to return to normal.

Some students felt relieved by this development, others remained frightened, and still others continued to harbor suspicions about Harry. As for Lockhart, he appeared to believe—without any basis whatsoever—that the cessation of attacks was thanks to his own efforts.

Time passed without any new clues emerging, but one day, Harry stumbled upon a mysterious diary. It belonged to someone named "Tom Riddle," and it possessed the extraordinary ability to allow written communication with its former owner.

What proved even more remarkable was that this Tom Riddle claimed to be the student who had ended a similar monster incident fifty years ago, having exposed and expelled the culprit who had released the creature.

Through the diary, Harry learned the identity of the person who had unleashed the monster half a century earlier. To his profound dismay, it was someone he knew well.

"It was Hagrid..."

Harry recounted the entire story to his three companions, gathered in the library's shadowed corner. He described what he had witnessed in the diary's memory: thirteen-year-old Hagrid keeping a massive, hairy creature at school, and when Tom Riddle confronted him about it, the beast had attacked.

Then the monster had escaped.

"Maybe Riddle identified the wrong culprit," Hermione said, desperately trying to defend Hagrid. "Maybe it was a different monster that attacked everyone back then."

Even she couldn't deny that Hagrid had indeed kept a dangerous creature on school grounds—she knew all too well about his fascination with monstrous beings and his tendency to keep them as pets. Just last year, he had illegally harbored a dragon, forcing Harry and Hermione to clean up the mess and lose house points in the process.

"How many monsters does Hogwarts need to house?" Ron asked pointedly, effectively silencing Hermione's protests.

He didn't believe Hagrid was trying to kill anyone either, but he also recognized that Hagrid would likely be charmed by any creature he found "cute," regardless of how dangerous it might be. And for that, Hagrid had been expelled.

But then Edith interjected with a crucial question.

"Harry, just to confirm—was the monster hairy with multiple legs?"

"Y-yes. It had these huge, disgusting hairy legs that kept squirming around."

After hearing Harry's description, Edith lowered her eyes thoughtfully. It was certainly a monster, and it might indeed attack people. However, something about this creature troubled her.

"That might not be the Slytherin monster," she said slowly.

"Edith, what do you mean?" Hermione asked nervously, clinging to any possibility that might exonerate Hagrid.

Edith nodded quietly and began to explain her reasoning.

"Harry, you're suspected of being the heir of Slytherin because you can speak Parseltongue, correct?"

"Yeah... that's what people think, but—"

"And Slytherin's symbol is a serpent, which means the ability to speak Parseltongue serves as proof of inheritance. Are you following me?"

Harry nodded reluctantly, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"Now, on Halloween, you heard a voice that no one else could detect, right?"

"So what? I didn't attack anyone!"

"I know you didn't. The important thing is that only you could hear it. The voice said something about killing, and immediately afterward, the crime was committed. This strongly suggests it was the voice of the monster itself."

Up to this point, only Hermione grasped what Edith was driving at. She covered her mouth in shock, staring at her Slytherin ally with dawning comprehension.

Harry, meanwhile, frowned at the unwelcome reminder of those terrible moments, while Ron's hand drifted toward his wand pocket, ready to defend Harry if Edith dared accuse him.

"A voice that only Harry—who speaks Parseltongue—could hear strongly suggests the monster is a serpent. So, returning to our earlier discussion: was Hagrid's pet monster a snake?"

"N-no... I couldn't see it clearly, but it definitely wasn't a snake. It had legs."

"Exactly. If it had been that creature, Harry wouldn't have been able to hear its voice. Therefore, Hagrid's monster and the current Slytherin beast are two entirely different entities."

Understanding dawned on Harry's face. Why hadn't he realized this sooner? A voice that only he, with his ability to speak to snakes, could hear! If he had worked backward from that clue, he might have easily identified the creature's nature.

However, Ron remained skeptical, his eyes rolling in annoyance as he rose from his chair.

"I see what's happening here! You're trying to pin this on Harry after all! Typical Slytherin!"

"Ron, no! She's not trying to blame Harry—she's identifying the monster's true nature—"

"Hermione! This snake has deceived you!"

Ron harbored a fundamental inability to trust any Slytherin student. Just as Malfoy showed hostility toward all Gryffindors, Ron maintained unconditional suspicion of anyone sorted into Slytherin.

Without hesitation, he drew his wand and pointed it at Edith. While he probably wouldn't actually cast a spell, his wand posed a genuine danger—it had been broken by the Whomping Willow on the first day of term and was now held together with tape, making it dangerously unpredictable.

Edith gasped and braced herself as the unstable magical focus was aimed in her direction.

But then a pale arm shot out from the side, grasping Ron's wand with firm authority.

"That's little more than a toy, Weasley. Does your family really give you such defective equipment?"

The white hand belonged to someone Edith had grown distant from since the Polyjuice incident—or rather, someone she had begun avoiding out of her own insecurity and shame.

Mirabelle Beresford stood there with her usual composed expression, showing no trace of concern or surprise.

"Don't wave around such a broken piece of rubbish," she said coolly, taking the wand and crushing it effortlessly in her grip.

The fragments of what had once been Ron's wand scattered uselessly across the floor, now nothing more than splinters and magical debris.

"You can borrow a school wand," Mirabelle added dismissively.

She ignored Ron, who sat frozen in despair at the sight of his destroyed wand, and simply walked away without another word.

Edith caught a glimpse of Mirabelle's face as she departed, but as always, it was impossible to read her true intentions behind those golden eyes. Yet perhaps it was just imagination, but there seemed to be something more than usual—a difference so subtle that only Edith could notice it. For just a moment, she thought she detected an emotion akin to anger flickering in those depths.

A few seconds after Mirabelle left, realization struck Edith like lightning.

Wait... maybe she was angry because Ron pointed his wand at me?

She looked hurriedly in the direction Mirabelle had gone, but it was too late. Her friend had already disappeared, and the opportunity to confirm her suspicions had slipped away.

It would be easy enough to follow and ask, but what if Mirabelle denied it? What if she said, "No, that's not why"?

Paralyzed by this fear, Edith couldn't bring herself to chase after Mirabelle, leaving her alone with her doubts and the tantalizing possibility that her friend might actually care more than she let on.

---

Author's Note: This episode focused primarily on Edith's perspective, with Mirabelle making only a brief appearance at the end to display her protective instincts.

If Edith had chosen to chase after Mirabelle here, it would have closed the emotional gap between them and slightly increased Mirabelle's favorability rating. Unfortunately, she missed her chance.

The "Mirabelle route" can theoretically be unlocked by raising her favorability above 100 points. This requires choosing the correct response in every single interaction—missing even one opportunity leads straight to failure.

Essentially, changing Mirabelle's heart is nearly impossible.

***

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