"Aaaaaargh!"
The morning began with a refreshing scream. This was the Gryffindor dormitory.
The owner of the scream, Harry, blinked a few moments later, then shook his head at the familiar sensation atop it.
Resting on Harry's head, as if it belonged there, was the pure white Nightmare Hat—no, the Magic Training Hat.
Seeing the hat, Harry's face twisted into a grotesque expression before he turned to look at me in the adjacent bed.
He stared at me with eyes soaked in betrayal, a pitiable look on his face as he asked, "You brought this all the way to Hogwarts?"
While I don't particularly enjoy tormenting others, seeing such a look always sparked a warm, ticklish feeling of satisfaction.
Who wouldn't be moved by the sight of a disciple so touched by his master's grace?
I replied to Harry with a benevolent smile.
"Conversely, why would you think I wouldn't bring it?"
"Uh…"
He had a point. There wasn't really any reason for me not to bring it.
Even in his frustration, Harry's well-trained rational mind unconsciously admitted that I was right. The fact that he couldn't argue seemed to infuriate him even more, and an aggrieved look crossed his face.
Of course, all he could do about it was grumble.
"But you said I hadn't done anything wrong."
"That's precisely why I put it on you. Isn't it a master's duty to train a good disciple who hasn't committed any wrongdoings?"
"Ah…"
Once again, Harry was forced to admit there was no logical flaw in my words.
"Harry, what's wrong!"
While Harry was grappling with his fate with a confused expression, Percy's voice called from downstairs, having apparently heard the scream.
They might have thought Harry wouldn't notice, but the number of curious glances directed at him had increased this year.
Naturally, Harry, who had long since become aware of their gazes, answered with a slightly annoyed tone.
"It's nothing!"
It goes without saying, but Hogwarts is a school that has stood for over a thousand years.
No matter how great the power of magic, it's a wonder that a castle this old is still standing.
What I mean by that is, the soundproofing is absolutely terrible.
Naturally, Harry's scream, and the ensuing conversation between him and Percy, traveled beyond the bedroom and spread throughout the entire Gryffindor common room.
We felt the effects of this keenly on our way to the Great Hall for breakfast.
*Glance, glance.*
The constant stares made Harry wear a strange expression.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"Ah, it's nothing!"
But whenever he asked what was going on, they would just say it was nothing and run away.
As this repeated, Harry shot me a sullen look.
"This is all because of the Nightmare Hat."
"…You think so?"
It certainly seemed I bore some responsibility for the extra attention Harry was getting, so this time I readily admitted my fault.
Harry demanded triumphantly, "Then, don't make me wear the Nightmare Hat for a week!"
"Nightmare Hat?"
"What's that?"
"I say, that sounds like a very, very interesting name!"
"Somehow, I feel like it's something we absolutely must know about!"
"Agh, you startled me."
Harry flinched at the voices that popped up from behind him and turned around. I don't know how much of our conversation they'd heard, but Fred and George had appeared out of nowhere.
I was sure they had been leisurely relaxing in the common room when we left the dormitory. I had no idea when they'd caught up. Sometimes, it seemed like they knew the secret passages of Hogwarts even better than I did.
Anyway, that wasn't the important part.
The twins, seemingly fixated on the 'Nightmare Hat' Harry had mentioned, asked in a rapid-fire succession, their eyes sparkling.
"So, so, what is this Nightmare-Hat?"
"Is it a hat that induces nightmares just by wearing it?"
"Can you put it on someone who's awake?"
"Where is it now? In the dormitory?"
"Never heard of it. Did you make it yourself?"
"Sounds like brilliant fun! We should try it on our Ronnie!"
Feeling dizzy from the machine-gun-like barrage of questions, I shook my head slightly and answered.
"Fred, George. The Nightmare Hat is just… a nickname. Sorry, but it's not what you think."
"Oh, dear. What a shame."
"A real pity."
Though they said it was a pity, their eyes were still gleaming.
"Well then, Aisen."
"Like we told Harry the other day."
"Could you lend us the Laughter Bell?"
"Ever since we saw that thing!"
"Our mischievous souls!"
"Cannot be satisfied by any other object!"
I was fairly certain that if I lent the Laughter Bell to these brothers, they would turn every single bell in Hogwarts into a Laughter Bell. If anyone was going to do that, it would be me.
But something in their conversation caught my attention, and I asked Harry, "Huh? Harry, did you talk to the twins about something?"
"Oh, right."
As if just remembering, a lightbulb seemed to appear over Harry's head.
"You remember I went to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys, right?"
"Yes."
"Fred asked me then if I'd be willing to lend him the Laughter Bell. He said he'd give me something in return…"
"That's right! And not just anything!"
"We're talking about our treasure!"
I considered it for a moment, but I still felt that giving them the Laughter Bell would be a greater loss. And more importantly…
"Sorry, but your request is denied. I didn't bring the Laughter Bell to Hogwarts."
It was true. I had taken it to the Black family home, then forgot to bring it back. It was probably sitting somewhere in that grand house right now. I could only hope Sirius wouldn't accidentally ring it.
If you shook it without knowing the proper way to use it, even the person holding it would be infected with laughter.
"Drat. That's a shame."
"But our treasure is really something special!"
"Think about it for next time!"
As they turned to leave, I noticed a cunning smile on their faces, which was a little concerning, but what could possibly happen?
***
*Meanwhile, at the Black residence.*
"Ahahaha! Hahahaha! Puhahahaha! Kheoheoheuhahah! Hihahuhuhuheoheoh!"
"…My worthless master. It seems he's finally gone mad."
***
Completely oblivious to the tragedy unfolding at the Black residence, we chatted normally as we walked to class.
Our first class back at Hogwarts was Potions with Snape, a class dreaded by Gryffindor students.
Hmm. Come to think of it, it's been a long time since I last saw Snape.
Last year, not only was I away from Hogwarts for a while, but even after I returned, Snape was absent for some time as he was brewing potions for the victims of the Basilisk.
Furthermore, the school was in an uproar investigating what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets, so Snape, being something of Albus's right-hand man, was requisitioned and kept busy with that.
Which meant it had been over half a year since I'd last seen him.
Naturally, it also meant it had been a long time since my last special lesson with him.
"…Seeing your idiotic faces again after so long makes my heart sink. Weasley, where is your textbook? And Longbottom… Hmm? You've actually opened your book to the correct page. What a surprise."
Snape hadn't changed a bit.
His face, as he hurled insults at the students, was etched with annoyance and irritation.
In a way, he looked to be in an even worse mood than usual.
Ever since our last encounter, he kept his Occlumency shields up even during class, so I couldn't read his mind, but it was obvious just from looking at him that something was bothering him.
Was it because of Lupin?
As I was lost in thought for a moment, Snape's sharp voice cut through the air.
"Potter! How many times did you just stir your cauldron clockwise?"
"Three and a half times. It needs two and a half more."
"…Tsk."
Of course, just because my mind wandered a little didn't mean I would make a mistake while brewing a mere third-year Hogwarts potion.
Snape had to know that, yet he was still trying to pick a fight. For a moment, I considered putting the Nightmare Hat on him during our next special lesson.
"Longbottom… Oh-ho. They say even a broken clock is right twice a day. You are the very picture of it, Longbottom."
What was most surprising about the class was that Neville didn't blow up his cauldron.
I couldn't tell if the final product was any good, but compared to his usual habit of breaking, corroding, and melting his cauldron every single class, it was a leap in progress.
Snape, seemingly disappointed that he couldn't properly berate Neville, kept hovering around his cauldron, looking for faults, but even so, Neville's performance was truly commendable.
Other than that, Snape's first class in half a year was the same as always.
He docked points if a Gryffindor made a mistake, found fault even when a Gryffindor did something well, and awarded points whenever a Slytherin did something well.
If I hadn't known he was Albus's spy, anyone would have seen him as a professor completely biased towards Slytherin. It was an admirable performance.
His acting skills were so artistic that if I were to expose his true identity to the Death Eaters, they would probably dismiss my words as nonsense.
*Poke.*
Hermione, who had been watching me intently, somehow noticed I was daydreaming again and poked me in the side with her finger.
"You need to focus, Aisen."
But the one telling me to focus had just stirred her own cauldron one more time than instructed.
"Granger. Where is your mind? Five points from Gryffindor."
"Ah, ahh!"
Hermione, who always earned points for Gryffindor, blushed at the rare occasion of losing them.
I chuckled and teased her.
"Looks like *you're* the one who needs to focus."
"…You're right. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Wondering if something was amiss, I looked at her, but she avoided my gaze, her face still red, and poked me in the side again as if in silent protest.
"That's all for today's lesson. All of you, get out."
After what felt like an eternity, Snape's order of dismissal finally came, and the Gryffindor students exited the dungeons as if they couldn't wait to escape.
Fridays were great, schedule-wise.
Once Potions class in the morning was over, we had no other classes for the rest of the day, aside from one that met every other week.
"Guys, since we have free time, why don't we visit Hagrid? It's been a while," Harry suggested, eager to enjoy the golden free period. Unfortunately, I had something to do.
"Harry, I have some business to attend to, so I need to stop by the staff room."
"Oh, me too, Harry."
Hermione also declined, saying she had to be elsewhere, so in the end, only Ron and Harry headed towards the hut.
After waving goodbye to them as they left with disappointed faces, I stepped onto one of the moving staircases.
But after parting with Ron and Harry, I found that my path overlapped with Hermione's.
"?"
From the Central Hall, to the second-floor main entrance, to the third-floor east staircase.
After walking together for quite a while, Hermione and I turned to each other in confusion.
"Aisen, where are you going?"
"Are you also going to see Professor McGonagall?"
"What a coincidence, so am I!"
I was going to ask for her help with Animagus magic, but I was a little curious as to what business Hermione had.
Well, I'd find out when we got there.
Putting my minor question aside, we headed to the staff room together.
Professor McGonagall's office was as neat and tidy as her personality.
The door was engraved with decorations in the shape of an understated owl.
Considering the owl is the symbol of the Roman goddess Minerva, it was a perfectly fitting decoration for the room of Minerva McGonagall.
*Knock, knock.*
We knocked lightly on the door to announce our presence, and Professor McGonagall herself opened it to greet us.
"Oh, did you two come together?"
"Ah, yes… We were both on our way to see you, Professor, so we came together. Is that a problem?"
McGonagall seemed to ponder Hermione's polite question for a moment before shaking her head.
"No, not at all. Hmm… To be honest, yes. It could be a little bit of a problem. Still, you two are close… so it should be fine. I'm sorry, Potter, but could you wait just a moment? It would be better to take care of Miss Granger's matter first. Both of you, come in and have a seat."
After guiding us to some sofa-like chairs, Professor McGonagall rummaged through a cabinet for a moment and brought back a small box, just big enough to hold a single item.
Then, as if making us swear an oath, she raised a finger to her lips and made a shushing sound.
"Potter, Granger. You must not, under any circumstances, tell another student—no, preferably not even another professor—that I have given this item to Miss Granger. Understood?"
After we both nodded, not knowing the reason, McGonagall opened the item's case.
From within, a golden radiance was revealed.
Hermione tilted her head, apparently not knowing what it was, but I was different.
Recognizing the object at a single glance, I sucked in a breath.
Because, even by my standards as an archmage, this item was of truly unbelievable value.
I said in a low, awestruck voice, "A Time-Turner…!"
***