Dungbombs—something you could find in any joke shop in the wizarding world—were among the most popular prank items around. Of course, they weren't real; they were merely made to look like that and infused with that particular smell.
No one would enjoy using the real thing, unless they had something seriously wrong with their head. When a Dungbomb exploded, it produced a loud bang but wouldn't hurt anyone.
Those who used it for pranks did so for the fake filth it sprayed out after exploding—and for that unforgettable stench.
Behind the wall, Fred and George clenched their fists simultaneously to celebrate their victory. Beside them, Eda rolled her eyes inelegantly. The handkerchief she had used as a face covering was completely useless—it blocked nothing.
The foul odor kept drilling into her nose, making her head ache; she almost vomited up tomorrow's breakfast.
The reason the smell was so overwhelming was, on one hand, exactly why Dungbombs were so popular. On the other hand, it showed just how ruthless Fred and George were—because they hadn't prepared just one Dungbomb for Filch, but several!
The reason only one loud bang had been heard was that they had exploded almost simultaneously; Eda's ears couldn't distinguish the tiny interval between the blasts.
After the explosion, Filch's furious howl and Mrs. Norris's shrieks finally rang out clearly. Taking advantage of the caretaker being shocked and enraged, unable to focus on anything else, Eda and the twins fled at once.
By the time Filch regained his senses and tried to catch the attackers, they had already disappeared without a trace, leaving him no opportunity at all.
In the entire school, the only people bold enough to do something like this were Fred and George. And since it had happened right after he had inspected their belongings, Filch naturally knew the twins were responsible—but he had no evidence.
Whether it was Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall, without proof they would not allow Filch to punish students. He could only glare helplessly as the culprits roamed free.
Moreover, Fred and George even had a prefect to vouch for them, proving they had nothing to do with the "Caretaker's Office Explosion."
While Filch fumed in impotent rage on one side, the three fugitives had already slowed their pace. Eda yanked off her handkerchief, and her Prefect badge was pinned back onto her chest once more.
When the deed was done, they brushed off their sleeves and left, hiding both body and name. That had been Eda and the twins' intention as well—but they were nowhere near as successful at hiding it.
Even though they were already far from the "blast" center, the foul stench still clung to them. The smell had seeped into their clothes.
The twins had badly misjudged the power of half a dozen Dungbombs, which led to their current predicament. Anyone passing by would inevitably gloat and ask, "First time playing with Dungbombs?"
It wasn't their first time using Dungbombs—but it was their first time detonating half a dozen at once. That was what caused the fiasco and left all three of them reeking. With no other choice, they temporarily changed their destination, swapping the common room for the bathrooms.
Although all three were heading off to wash away the smell, Eda and the twins went in different directions. Fred and George could only use the ordinary boys' bathroom, while Eda headed for the prefects' bathroom, reserved exclusively for prefects.
Same purpose—but instantly far more high-end.
Eda sneaked all the way to the 5th floor of the castle, terrified of running into anyone and having them catch a whiff of her.
Who knew what kind of rumors might start if that happened?
It was only when she reached the left side of the statue of Boris the Bewildered that she finally relaxed.
After giving the password and passing through the hidden door, Eda entered the lounge of the prefects' bathroom. Besides keeping others out, the concealed door would also transport you directly to an unoccupied bathing room.
No one knew how many cubicles were hidden behind that door, but the prefects' bathroom had never once seen a queue. According to the house-elves, every hidden bathing room was arranged exactly the same, with every item placed in the spot you were used to.
In the spacious lounge, Eda removed her dirty clothes and placed them into the black cabinet in the corner. It wasn't a wardrobe, but a special cabinet found only in the prefects' bathroom.
Once you put your clothes inside, they would be cleaned—more effective than any washing machine. When Eda returned, her clothes would be waiting in the cabinet, clean, tidy, and faintly fragrant.
After putting away her personal belongings, Eda wrapped herself in a towel and pushed open the bathroom door. The luxurious chandelier hanging from the ceiling lit up at once, casting a warm, gentle glow across the room.
The décor was entirely white marble, and in the center lay a sunken pool large enough that you could even swim in it.
Around the edge of the rectangular pool were roughly a hundred golden taps, each handle set with a gemstone of a different color. Eda snapped her fingers, and a portion of the taps began pouring water in perfect unison. Before long, the pool was filled to the brim.
With a fluffy towel perched on her head, Eda let herself sink into the bath. The water temperature was exactly how she liked it, and colorful bubbles gathered around her. For the sake of this bathroom alone, she was determined to remain a prefect—Merlin himself couldn't stop her.
This bathroom was the crystallization of countless pieces of magic, which was why it was so highly praised. In many ways, it wasn't entirely unfair that wizards looked down on Muggles—magic truly did bring enormous convenience to their lives.
The problem was that too many wizards had lost their drive, causing the wizarding world to stagnate and gradually become what it was today.
Immersed in the steaming, foam-covered water, Eda closed her eyes and stretched her limbs. Clusters of multicolored mist drifted around her. Although she didn't cry out "Eureka," this kind of setting was genuinely perfect for thinking.
Especially when you couldn't calm your mind—this place cut off all outside interference, allowing you to focus solely on your own thoughts.
Casting aside distractions and clearing her mind, refusing to think about Professor Lupin or Sirius Black, and analyzing only herself, Eda realized she seemed to have grown increasingly irritable lately.
Thinking it through carefully, she felt this change hadn't begun just recently. When handling the basilisk's legacy, many of her decisions had been somewhat rash. Whether it was negotiating with Mr. Borgin or later ambushing those subordinates, her arrangements hadn't been meticulous enough.
Without having an accurate understanding of her enemies' strength, she had easily exposed her identity—simply because she believed she could eliminate them all. But what if someone had managed to escape her attack?
Moreover, basilisks were extremely rare. If Mr. Borgin had truly pursued the matter to the end, Eda's identity would have been exposed all the same.
At that point, the initiative would have fallen entirely into someone else's hands. Losing the advantage of control was never a good thing.
Fortunately, Mr. Borgin had been intimidated. With so much at stake, he had no intention of dragging things down in mutual destruction.
The negative effects brought about by her growing strength had been displayed by Eda in full. Arrogance. Impatience. Recklessness. Any one of these could deal her a fatal blow at a critical moment—or leave her with lifelong regret.
In dealing with Alain Rosier and Vincent Rosier, Eda's actions had likewise lacked composure. If not for Vinda cleaning up after her, she would certainly have found herself buried in trouble.
How could she have had the leisure to think about the Prisoner of Azkaban—or about her werewolf professor?
Living freely according to one's nature was not wrong. But being true to oneself was not the same as being willful, nor did it mean acting without restraint and indulging every impulse.
Fortunately, Eda's impatience had only just begun to surface, and the hidden danger had been resolved in time. Fortunately, she had recognized the change within herself before sliding into the abyss and committing an irreparable mistake.
Eda closed her eyes and savored the fleeting peace. In that moment, all her worries seemed to vanish.
On the wall of the bathroom hung a painting set within a gilded frame. It depicted a blonde mermaid reclining on a rock, dozing lightly. Her long hair brushed across her face, trembling faintly with each breath she took.
The girl outside the painting had closed her eyes.
The mermaid inside the painting slowly opened hers, curiously studying the girl in the pool.
...
Author's note: This chapter contains personal headcanon—just take it as it is, no need to overthink it.
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