Sundays at Hogwarts were always quiet and peaceful, and today was no exception.
However, in the corner of the castle, inside an empty classroom, this tranquility was broken by a group of students arguing noisily.
"Weasley brothers, it's the weekend, and it's still early in the morning. Couldn't this wait until later, maybe even noon?"
The speaker, sporting a pair of magnificent dark circles under their eyes, looked as though they were ready to fight unless given a proper explanation.
Normally, such small conflicts would quickly be resolved by others stepping in, but today, everyone remained silently complicit, showing no intention of smoothing things over. It was still only 5:30 A.M. on Sunday. If the Weasley brothers didn't provide a very good explanation, they could expect to be hung upside down from the tower.
"Talk? Ha! You Hufflepuffs always stick together. They got one of your early risers to call everyone out. Do you know how they woke me up? Those two sent me a Howler early in the morning and told me to gather everyone!"
Howler? That's just evil!
This was nearly everyone's first reaction, followed immediately by suppressed laughter.
"Laugh, laugh! What are you all laughing at?" the student snapped. "My dorm mates said that if you two don't give a reasonable explanation, they're planning to ambush you and hang you outside Filch's office!"
"Don't talk about such unlucky things first thing in the morning!"
"Exactly! Aren't you afraid that filthy cat will target you?"
"..."
"…"
The threat of this punishment seemed so harsh that everyone began cursing the unfortunate soul who had been woken by the Howler.
Meanwhile, the central figures of the discussion, the Weasley brothers, looked on with great satisfaction at the group of groggy friends they'd gathered; friends who were all regular visitors to Filch's office, frequenters of Hogwarts' secret passages and shadows, partners in crime with Peeves... sworn enemies of every caretaker.
Of course, calling people out so early in the morning was deliberate on their part. Their Quidditch captain, Wood, had already gotten them up early for practice, and there was explosive news from the night before that needed to be addressed promptly. Why should only they work hard for the group's collective welfare?
Of course not. Everyone needed to work together toward a shared goal!
As for the Howler? In the face of such a dire matter, that was just a minor detail.
"What's all this racket?" The twins exchanged a glance, hopped down from the table they had been sitting on, and stood on the floor. "We've got urgent news for you all, something we found out at great personal risk; risk that could extend our detention. Professor William, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, has come up with a massive pile of papers, not just for exams but for extra assignments too."
"Is that true?"
"Heavens!"
"..."
"Of course it's true. We were in detention last night and took a big risk to find this out," they said in unison, vouching for the reliability of their information. But this assurance didn't do much to lift the spirits of the murmuring group.
"Extra assignments? What kind of news is that? We've already got them. I was up until 1 A.M. doing those papers, and then you woke me up this morning. If I'd known it was about this, I would've slept longer. If there's nothing else, I'm leaving. Oh, and you two better not bother me again until I've had enough sleep."
The student with dark circles instantly lost interest. He still had essays to write and a lot of sleep to catch up on.
"What do you mean just this? This is valuable information we worked so hard to uncover! You've grown complacent!"
"I'll just treat it like extra essays. Honestly, after finishing those assignments, I feel like I could ace the first set of papers all over again. I guess the professor wasn't wrong; my basics really were weak."
"You've finished them? That's four full sheets of assignments!"
The rest of the fifth-year students were amazed. They weren't as diligent, and most had barely even started on their essays.
"Mind lending me your papers to copy?"
"Sure, just come find me after I've had some sleep, I'm too tired right now. If there's nothing else, I'll be heading out."
"Alright, see you later."
As the classroom door closed behind the departing student, all eyes turned back to the Weasley brothers. The fifth years didn't seem to care much about the workload, so why were these two fourth years in such a rush?
"Everyone, if we don't head back soon, Wood will come after us. Quidditch practice is about to start. So, let's cut to the chase. The fifth years might think all those assignments are normal, but what if Professor Lockhart gets bored of his fan club antics? What if something even worse happens—like other professors starting to follow suit with classroom quizzes?"
"That won't happen, will it? Professors have their own teaching styles. That new Professor has only been here for less than a year. How could he influence the others to start giving classroom tests?"
"Why not? We heard yesterday that Professor Binns might actually give a History of Magic test!"
"Why didn't you say so earlier!"
Gasps erupted from the group, which included students ranging from second to seventh years. Professor Binns was universally regarded as the most consistent and predictable teacher at Hogwarts.
"Alright, we've got to get to practice now. Hopefully, you can come up with a good plan. Our futures depend on you," the twins said before hurrying out of the classroom, leaving behind a stunned group of students, now wide awake.
***
"..."
"Whose idea was it last time during the fourth-year meeting? We weren't there, but it seemed to work pretty well."
Unable to decide on a course of action, the group recalled that the previous suggestion had been effective.
"It was the Weasley brothers. Although, to be fair, Lockhart's club was indeed very popular."
"Should we do the same thing?"
The moment someone suggested that, they noticed everyone around them giving disapproving looks. It felt like they were being silently judged.
"Professor Lockhart had years of fandom behind him. It makes sense for him to have fans at Hogwarts too. But Professor William has only been here for a month. Why would he suddenly have a group of fans? For what? His piles of quizzes? His massive amounts of assignments? His vast knowledge and engaging teaching style?"
"Ahem, as far as sixth-year classes go, Professor William does teach quite well," a sixth-year student couldn't help but interject.
"Seventh year too. I think his lessons are great," added another.
"This isn't class, and we're not in Filch's office. Is that what we're here to discuss?"
The speaker glared at the two who had spoken up, feeling like the group had been betrayed.
"Let's just give the new professor something to do. Who's good at writing? Let's have someone pretend to be a bold girl and send him a love letter. Don't make it too obvious. Just hint at a secret admiration, saying it's a matter of discretion. Pass it along secretly and let the Professor figure it out!"
"That's cruel, isn't it?"
"Not at all. By the end of the year, we can say the writer realized their mistake, wish him well, and express gratitude for this unforgettable time. As long as the truth doesn't come out, the Professor will just see it as a fond memory."
The speaker confidently added more details to the plan, but to their surprise, no applause or cheers followed.
"Mrs. Norris!"
A shout from the back broke the silence, and the group immediately bolted for the door.
Amid a chaotic mix of flailing limbs and shouts to "Run faster!"
Hogwarts' weekend officially began.
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