Normally, in winter, spiders are rarely seen. Some spiders die after mating and laying eggs in late autumn, never surviving into winter.
Others choose to survive the cold by hibernating. They don't need to eat and thus naturally disappear from human sight.
This type of spider will find a corner or a hole, spin a very dense web with silk, and crawl inside to hibernate, not waking until the following spring when the weather warms.
But this was Hogwarts—common sense couldn't be applied here. Even in winter, you could still see spiders inside the warm castle. Not to mention, in the Forbidden Forest lived Hagrid's good friend, Aragog, and his family of acromantulas, a truly massive colony.
Whether Lee Jordan's pet pouch spider needed to hibernate, Eda wasn't sure. But that pouch spider showed no signs of spinning a web for hibernation. On the contrary, it seemed eager to escape the castle.
The wide world held great opportunities—such a tiny box could no longer contain it. The world was vast, and the pouch spider seemed determined to go out and see it.
One evening, Eda and the twins were crossing the entrance hall when they suddenly noticed a small crowd gathered around the notice board, reading the words on a freshly pinned parchment.
Fred and George squeezed their way through, and soon returned. They said to Eda: "They're starting a Dueling Club. Tonight's the first meeting."
"As if the monster in the Chamber of Secrets would agree to duel with us," George said. "Still, why does this 'Dueling Club' sound so familiar to me?"
Of course it was familiar—before the attacks had happened, Filch had already tried to label Dawn as a dueling club, rather than a study group. At the time, Lockhart had even thought it was a pretty good idea.
Ever since the attacks, Dawn's activities had been suspended, and it was up to the twins to find a new meeting place. But the brothers had never managed to find a satisfactory spot—Dawn needed a safe, hidden location for its gatherings.
It wasn't as if they hadn't considered the secret passageway on the 4th floor of the castle. In terms of both space and secrecy, it was an excellent choice.
But hidden deep beneath the castle lay a serious safety hazard. After years of neglect, and further battered by Eda over the past few years, the underground chamber was already crumbling and on the verge of collapse. No one knew when it might cave in.
If such a collapse really happened, perhaps Eda would have a way to protect everyone, but still—better safe than sorry. If someone got hurt, it would be no laughing matter. So the fifth-floor passageway was abandoned.
That evening at eight o'clock, Eda and the twins followed the crowd into the Great Hall.
The long dining tables had vanished. Along one wall stood a gilded stage, illuminated by hundreds of floating candles overhead.
The ceiling had once again turned into a velvet-black sky. Nearly every student in the school had come, packed shoulder to shoulder, each holding their wand, faces full of excitement.
The students eagerly discussed who would be teaching them dueling. Most hoped it would be Professor Flitwick. In his youth, he had once won the Dueling Championship, and that was no secret to Hogwarts students.
A great teacher produces great students—having a former dueling champion teach them would clearly be the best choice.
Eda and her friends, mingling in the crowd, didn't think Professor Flitwick would step into the spotlight. At Hogwarts, there was only one person who loved the spotlight that much.
Sure enough, the person who appeared on stage was not the champion the students had been hoping for, but another kind of champion.
This champion was not that champion—everyone still preferred the dueling champion over the bragging champion.
Up walked Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in a flamboyant magenta robe, looking radiant. He was as flashy as a parrot, and beside him stood another figure: Snape, still clad in his usual black robes.
"Why on earth would he do that? Of all people, why pick Snape?" Fred stared blankly at Lockhart, utterly unable to understand his logic.
"I swear, this is the first time in my life I've ever wanted to cheer for Snape," George said. "I hope he just sends Lockhart packing. I don't want to see him at this school anymore."
"If—and I mean if—I were to step forward again to challenge Lockhart, do you think he'd accept?" Eda, ever eager to expose frauds, asked in a low voice.
"Impossible," the twins said in unison. "Absolutely not."
Eda sighed helplessly. This dueling club, led by Lockhart, instantly lost all its appeal.
On the gilded stage, Lockhart was busy running his mouth, taking the chance to promote his books.
He said, "Don't worry, children, I'll return your Potions Professor to you in one piece. He's only here to help me with a little demonstration." Lockhart was still smiling broadly, completely oblivious to the way Snape was looking at him—as though he were already a dead man.
Lockhart, of course, had chosen his assistant without a second thought. He had no idea how terrifying his greasy-haired colleague once was, nor that Snape had once been one of Voldemort's most trusted followers.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Lockhart had managed to scrape through an entire term, only to pull this suicidal stunt in front of the entire school. Truly admirable.
On stage, Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed. At least, Lockhart bowed—his hands twirling with unnecessary flourishes—while Snape merely gave a curt, impatient tilt of his head. Then, they raised their wands like arrows leveled at their chests.
Down below, Eda watched Lockhart with disdain. With all those useless, showy gestures, she could have knocked him down several times over already.
If this had been an actual dueling tournament, Lockhart probably wouldn't even have made it past the preliminaries.
Eda found herself desperately wondering: with all this posturing, how on earth had Lockhart survived this long without being beaten to death? Since when had the wizarding world become such a harmonious society?
On stage, Snape and Lockhart suddenly swung their wands up over their shoulders.
"Expelliarmus!" Snape shouted.
The Potions Master's incantation speed could only be described as tortoise-like. Eda swore that if her madam Merry were still alive, she could have dodged that Disarming Charm too.
But with a flash of dazzling red light, the young Lockhart failed to dodge, and he couldn't block it either. He was struck off balance, flung backward off the stage, slammed into the wall, and then slid down to the floor, curling up like a shrimp.
Lockhart, in his pitiful state, looked exactly like a boiled prawn.
Boos erupted through the Great Hall. Anyone with eyes could see Snape had gone easy on him—so easy it was as though he'd held back an entire Atlantic Ocean. At that snail's pace of spellcasting, it was like Snape was mocking Lockhart's sheer incompetence.
The Disarming Charm might not cause much harm, but its humiliation was brutal.
The students didn't look disappointed; everyone had expected Lockhart to lose. "So much for Hogwarts professors," many thought. Quite a few even figured they could do better themselves—after all, getting knocked down in one hit didn't take much, and at least they might fall in a more stylish way.
But Lockhart was Lockhart—a flower of a different color. He never won with magic, but he never lost when it came to showing off. Stumbling and staggering, he managed to climb back onto the stage, wobbling as he went, and used excuses and bluster to save face.
His round of flimsy justifications, laced with disdain, successfully provoked Snape's fury. Just as Snape was about to show him what real magic looked like, Lockhart lost his nerve. He had only just salvaged his dignity and had no intention of being knocked flat again, trampled underfoot.
Life was still wide open, and countless fans awaited him. Lockhart wasn't about to let Snape send him off on his "final journey" today.
Lockhart and Snape stepped down from the stage, moving through the crowd to pair the students off so they could practice in twos.
As soon as the pairing began, Eda left the Great Hall together with the twins.
They were disappointed in the school's decision and even more dissatisfied with Snape for holding back. Why on earth had Snape been polite with Lockhart? He should've just smacked him in the face with a brick and been done with it—what "collegial goodwill" nonsense!
Because of their disappointment, the three left the Great Hall without realizing they were missing a truly spectacular show.
They didn't see the turn-based magical games between students, didn't see Harry and Malfoy's dramatic spiral split landing, didn't see the fierce girls' wrestling match, and didn't see Harry's Parseltongue.
As Eda and the twins walked back toward the tower, they discussed heading into the Forbidden Forest. There, among the colony of spiders, they might find out why the creatures had been behaving so strangely this winter.
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