"So, Mr. Weasley... what brings you to my office instead of exploring the castle on a weekend?"
McGonagall set two cups of tea in front of them and asked in a slightly annoyed tone.
She was clearly still bothered by what had happened that night.
George exchanged a glance with Dawn and immediately put on a cheerful grin.
"Professor, that's just a stereotype! We actually have something important this time!"
Dawn had used the excuse of retrieving their confiscated prank items to come here.
George had found the idea interesting and followed along on his own.
McGonagall looked at the two well-known troublemakers and asked helplessly, "And what important matter would that be?"
"It's about the upcoming Quidditch match," Dawn cut in before George could speak. "We were hoping to get some tactical advice from you."
Dawn understood McGonagall very well. He knew exactly what topic would keep them in the office the longest.
Sure enough, her eyes lit up at once.
She quickly pulled a book from the shelf and, after a brief moment of restraint, began explaining enthusiastically.
George glanced at Fred with confusion.
Weren't they here to ask for their prank tools back?
But when he saw McGonagall's expression, he immediately figured it out.
So that's it. Use Quidditch to win her over first.
Fred, you're unusually clever today.
A strange sense of competitiveness rose in George.
He jumped into the discussion, responding eagerly and praising their Head of House's suggestions.
Meanwhile, after steering the conversation, Dawn gradually fell silent. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a beetle resting outside the window.
He gave a faint, apologetic smile.
Time passed slowly.
The sun began to set.
George went from enthusiastic, to thirsty, to numb, and finally to utterly exhausted. His head was spinning.
He glanced at McGonagall, who was still speaking without pause. Gritting his teeth, he clasped his hands together and blurted out,
"Professor, could you return our prank items? We promise we won't use them in the castle!"
He could not take any more Quidditch talk.
McGonagall gave him a look that clearly said, "So that's your real purpose," and rejected him outright, ignoring all his earlier enthusiasm.
What a ruthless woman.
Dawn watched George's devastated expression and felt a strange sense of sympathy. To keep up appearances, he joined in the request.
Even when they claimed the items were for cheering Lee Jordan up, McGonagall did not budge.
George made one last desperate attempt.
"Professor, I know where to get the best catnip—"
He had intended to offer a trade, but before he could finish, McGonagall's terrifying glare shut him up immediately.
Catnip?
Dawn looked at her with a strange expression.
When he had been listening outside as a beetle, he had missed this part.
Could that catnip... be the gift he had sent during Christmas?
If so, then his choice of gift had been excellent. No cat could resist catnip and a scratching board.
McGonagall took a deep breath and forced herself to remain stern.
"Mr. Weasley, I have work to attend to. Please leave."
"Wait, Professor!" George tried to protest, but suddenly felt himself being pushed backward by an invisible force.
Bang!
The door slammed shut.
George stumbled back, staring at the closed door in front of his nose, still shaken.
He turned to discuss what to do next with Dawn, only to find that Fred had suddenly taken off running.
"Hey, what's going on?" George shouted, immediately chasing after him.
Footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Without turning back, Dawn called out, "Hurry up, George! Dinner's already started. I don't want to go to bed hungry!"
Dinner? Since when were you this hungry?
George was completely confused.
After they disappeared around the corner, the beetle crawled out from a crack in the wall and stared in their direction thoughtfully.
After a moment of hesitation, it flew off, intending to return to Avery and then head straight to the Great Hall to find the twins.
Unfortunately for it, that plan was doomed to fail.
Dawn did not go to the Great Hall.
Instead, he turned at the last moment and headed toward the Hufflepuff area. He tickled the pear in a painting and slipped into the kitchen.
"I say, Fred... you're not avoiding Lee because you lost so badly, are you? Is that why you came here to eat?"
As usual, George came up with his own explanation.
Dawn responded in the same carefree manner Fred would.
"You don't get it. I heard the kitchen has a secret Hufflepuff dish. If you keep eating here, you'll get stronger."
"Wow! No wonder those guys always come here. They must be hiding the secret for themselves. That's so selfish!"
George nodded seriously, completely accepting the explanation.
So easy to deal with.
Even with just a short time together, Dawn had already figured out the best way to handle George.
He stopped a house-elf from punishing itself and ordered some food.
The kitchen was lively. Students from three houses were there, everyone except Slytherin.
Dawn exchanged a few casual words with some familiar strangers, then picked up a fork and took a bite of steak.
Juice burst across his tongue.
The tender meat and smoky flavor slid down his throat, and for the first time since the battle, his tension eased.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the clock on the wall.
If his memory was correct, then at this moment, an attempt on Harry's life should be happening in the Great Hall.
Dawn played with his utensils, suddenly curious.
If he had been there too, who would Voldemort choose to kill?
He shook his head with a faint smile.
Another thought came to him.
Voldemort already knew he existed. So why not hide and ambush him after taking control of a student's body?
Was it because he could not maintain control for long? Or were Voldemort's thoughts not fully connected across his fragments?
Recalling recent events, Dawn gradually formed an answer.
After eating their fill, he and George left the kitchen.
George suggested returning to the Gryffindor common room, but Dawn immediately refused.
He clearly remembered that his past self would come to the dormitory that night.
He could not go back.
"Fine! It's been a while since we went exploring at night. Where should we go?" George quickly accepted the change of plans.
Exploring?
Dawn felt his eyelids twitch.
The recent battle had taken place on the level of the mind, but the exhaustion was very real.
He wanted to sleep, not wander around all night.
He glanced at George, who clearly had no intention of leaving him alone.
After a moment, he rubbed his temple and decided that if necessary, he would just knock George out and leave him somewhere.
"George, do you remember the Room of Requirement?"
"Of course. That magical room."
George nodded, then sighed.
"Too bad all the dungbombs we stored there are gone. Otherwise, Peeves wouldn't have been so smug."
"How about we go there tonight?" Dawn suggested. "Maybe we can find a room with the inheritance of the Four Founders."
"That's a great idea!"
George's eyes lit up. Today's Fred was unbelievably sharp.
He clapped his hands.
"Let's go now!"
___________
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