"First day of the holiday and I still have to come in and get familiar with all these files… honestly…"
After seeing off his dormmates at breakfast, Andrew strolled lazily toward Professor McGonagall's office — he was the only one in his dorm staying at school. Everyone else had gone home.
Even he didn't plan to waste the entire first day of break, though — he just wanted to spend half the day in the office, then head back to the common room fireplace to read stories for the afternoon, relax, and maybe find some fresh inspiration.
"If I can just get these document formats organized, get a feel for the formal wording, then I can rest."
He stretched his arms one last time, then opened the door to McGonagall's office and greeted the house-elf inside. "Hello, Jim."
"Good morning, Mr. Taylor. May I get you something to drink?"
"Ah, no need — I just came from the Great Hall."
"Very well. If you need anything, just call me."
With a soft pop, the house-elf disappeared.
"Magic like that is just so convenient…"
Andrew couldn't help but sigh in admiration — but he didn't let himself dwell on magic so far beyond his current abilities. He sat down at his small desk, pulled out his notebook, and started analyzing the pile of documents in front of him.
It turned out to be easier than he'd expected — thanks to that odd club he'd joined earlier, he'd even seen full analyses of similar files. There was literally a stack of them used as makeshift desk pads in the common room…
"It's amazing how even the weirdest things come in handy somehow."
Andrew chuckled to himself and decided he'd flip through that material again later. For now, he'd break down these files in his own way first, then compare them.
…
"Halfway through…"
Andrew stood up and stretched. Hogwarts' official documents were even less rigid than he'd expected — the templates were all pretty similar, and the detailed wording could wait for a deeper dive tomorrow.
He was debating whether to get himself a glass of water when the office door was suddenly knocked on in a rush.
"Come in!" Andrew called out.
A red-haired boy all but burst into the office — Percy.
"Professor! They — they —"
"The professor isn't here, Prefect Percy," Andrew said, startled by how agitated Percy looked. Quirrell had vanished with a certain noseless someone — what on earth could have him this stressed?
"Ah — no… Do you know where she went, Andrew?"
"No idea. She wasn't here when I arrived — you could ask the portraits?"
"There's no time… it's over… this whole holiday's ruined…"
Percy's face looked absolutely defeated. But then he spotted Andrew and his eyes lit up with a hint of desperate relief. "You're staying for the break too, right?"
"Yeah. Professor McGonagall asked me to get familiar with the files."
"That's good… that's really good…"
His reaction confused Andrew. "What's happened? You look like you're about to explode."
Percy took a deep breath, then grimly explained, "Right now, those Slytherins are still stuck at the station. Their prefects left four behind to keep order, and the other two came back to the castle to report what happened. I ran into them in the main hall."
A fake train? And they took the real one instead?
Andrew nearly lost it — he didn't even want to hold back. The grin spread naturally across his face. "You lot — that's just… brilliant! Way better than just hexing them. But — wait — why aren't you laughing, Percy?"
Andrew stopped mid-laugh when he saw Percy's expression — this wasn't right. As a Gryffindor, it was fine to keep a straight face in public for a prefect's sake, but not laughing in private? That was asking to get ostracized by your own House!
"I'd love to laugh — but, Andrew…" Percy's eyes turned heavy. "Of Gryffindor's six prefects, I'm the only one who stayed for the break."
Andrew had met all six — two each for fifth, sixth, and seventh year, one male and one female per year. He'd gotten to know them over the last few weeks. But… so what?
"When the Slytherins get home, they're going to complain. Some of their families can send letters directly to the Deputy Headmistress's office. Normally, Professor McGonagall might ignore those letters — but as the Head of Gryffindor, she has to respond this time. And sorting, opening, categorizing, and sometimes drafting replies to those letters…"
…
Okay. Please stop talking. Saying any more would just be cruel.
Andrew's grin faded. He didn't even need to ask — what used to be spread out among all the prefects would now fall to one prefect and one assistant.
'No way. I haven't even finished my drafts yet… There's no time for all this…'
Andrew, who had been so gleeful about the prank, now had his mind racing — his holiday happiness was at stake. He needed to save himself.
"You came here first thing, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then do you have any courage?"
That line was basically a challenge to any Gryffindor prefect — Percy included.
"Of course."
"Good. Then you need to go to the Slytherin students — and apologize to their prefects."
As Andrew spoke, he directed a quill on the desk to start scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, taking down his instructions.
"Are you insane?"
"I'm not — you need to apologize, but do it proudly," Andrew said, choosing his words carefully."Make it loud — but also sincere. Admit clearly that Gryffindor orchestrated this huge deception, and that you'll take responsibility for it."
The quill captured everything in formal language — stiff but more than serviceable.
"But then — you, as a prefect, will explain that you realize this prank was irresponsible, so you're stepping forward to clarify the whole situation. You'll accept any punishment the school sees fit — and you'll magically copy this apology to send to each Slytherin family as an official explanation for their kids' delay."
Andrew laid out his plan, and Percy's eyes widened.
"They'd never admit to that — not if I said it like that."
Slytherin had won the House Cup six years running. If they actually accepted that letter — and it got sent home — they'd lose all face with their families.
Once he said it, anyone who complained would be pressured by Slytherin's older students to shut up. Revenge could wait until after the holidays.
"Oh — and you can give them an excuse, too. Say they were so busy celebrating their inevitable House Cup victory in the common room that they missed the train — and now they need the school to arrange a special train to take them home tomorrow."
"They're going to send me to the hospital wing," Percy deadpanned — but he looked far less tense. He knew that cornering Slytherin like this meant they'd have to swallow the prank and keep it off the record. Sure, next term the rivalry would get crazy — but that was nothing compared to what could happen otherwise.
"So — are you going or not?"
"I'm going. I need to fix this before the professor gets officially notified."
Percy squared his shoulders, wearing the expression of a man walking to the gallows — but with a flicker of Gryffindor pride shining through.
T/N: For up to 30 chapters ahead on most of my translations, become a p@tron at p@treon.com/LordHipposApostle