Setting Aside the Facts, Are You Not Wrong?

Since Halloween, the temperature at Hogwarts had been dropping rapidly. When Eliana went for her morning run, the icy air felt like knives stabbing into her nostrils, carrying the scent of frost on the earth.

Her magic had gradually stabilized, and her sensitivity to it had even improved – thanks to Professor Snape's superb potion-making skills. Her friendships with Hermione and the others were also deepening. She'd received an "O" on her latest homework assignment again. Everything seemed to be developing steadily for the better, except for the new nickname she'd recently acquired.

They had defeated the troll – that wasn't a secret, especially since Professor McGonagall had openly awarded them fifteen points.

But that damned Ron, with a mouth looser than a thirty-year-old sieve, had described their battle in excruciating detail, exaggerating the troll's gruesome state. If he'd put that much effort into his homework, he wouldn't have only gotten a pathetic "A"!

In short, by the time she realized it, a damned title had been firmly nailed to her forehead: "Miss Richie of the Hurt Troll."

The ringleader Fred, Chief of Staff George, demolitions expert Lee, and war dog Ron – this group of scoundrels was behind it all.

Oh, and Malfoy, who contributed in secret!

Didn't Slytherins usually look down on Gryffindors? How had they united on this front? Wasn't this a betrayal of the organization?!

Wasn't anyone going to do anything about it – the Slytherin Organizational Department?!

Eliana gritted her teeth, hating everyone equally.

And so, the days led up to Quidditch season. The first match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

Coincidentally, the twins were Beaters, Lee was the commentator, and Ron and Malfoy were spectators.

Eliana darkly cursed them. She hoped the twins, while playing Bludgers, would accidentally knock the opponent on the head, then both fall off their broomsticks and crash onto Lee at the commentary box. The three of them would tumble down together and land right on Ron and Malfoy, who were arguing.

She wished for them all to be taken out in one go!

Eliana sincerely prayed to Merlin.

She stomped out of the castle, intending to find the Whomping Willow she'd recently discovered to vent her anger – that tree was truly a godsend. Before, she could only practice alone during her early morning runs, but now she had a sparring partner!

And this sparring partner was not only free but always available online. It didn't even need to sleep – well, maybe it did, but as soon as you hit it, it would respond with flailing branches the next second. You didn't even have to wait for it to get dressed or put on shoes; it was that responsive.

Her wand was made from a branch of a Whomping Willow. While not the same tree, they were of the same kind. No wonder she felt an affinity for the tree the moment she saw it.

She felt that the Whomping Willow also quite liked her; it got incredibly excited whenever it saw her.

It was understandable. A tree growing alone on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, with hardly any birds around usually, would cherish someone lively like her who played with it.

However, she wasn't sure if Whomping Willows also went through menopause, but lately, she felt the tree was more irritable than before.

As soon as she reached the courtyard, three people rushed over.

"Eliana, Professor Snape just docked us five points!" Ron shouted, complaining, "And he made up some excuse about library books not being allowed out of the school and confiscated our books."

That reason for docking points was indeed absurd. Eliana was silent for a moment.

Ron added fuel to the fire: "I told you he wasn't a good person, and you still think of him as your favorite teacher!"

He spoke with heartfelt agony, seemingly desperate to pull his friend onto the "righteous path" of their unified front.

Eliana didn't like hearing that.

When she became unhappy, even her fleeting guilt vanished. She put her hands on her hips and stubbornly argued, "Even if Professor Snape made up the excuse, wouldn't he not have been able to dock points if you hadn't let him see you with the books?"

"Setting aside the facts, don't you have any part in this?"

Ron's jaw dropped. He incredulously dug in his ear and turned to Harry, "Did you hear what she just said? It was outrageous!"

Harry and Hermione looked equally stunned.

Hermione hesitated, then tried to defend her friend hesitantly, "You know, Eliana has always been very respectful of teachers. Although Professor Snape... he is still a professor, and we should respect him."

"Are you sick too?" Ron's eyes were about to pop out. "Did you hear what she just said – 'setting aside the facts'? If the facts are set aside, what else is there to talk about? Dating?"

"Bro, you understand me, right?" Ron looked at his last ally helplessly, feeling like the world had become strange.

Harry returned a heavy gaze.

Ron looked relieved, as if he had finally found a normal person in a world overrun by madness.

If you like this book, remember to add it to your bookshelf so you don't lose it next time.

"I'm serious," he glanced at Eliana and whispered conspiratorially to Harry, "I suspect Snape's limp is due to half his partiality and half his heartlessness weighing him down."

After speaking ill of Snape, he habitually closed his eyes and flinched – it was strange that Eliana's iron fist didn't land on his head immediately.

Perhaps she hadn't heard.

Ron thought thankfully, feeling a bit guilty, and moved to Harry's other side, letting his good brother shield him.

Actually, Eliana had heard.

But she couldn't bother with Ron at the moment – she was a little guilty too.

She was desperately searching her memory: Snape's limp, could it be from her face smashing into him during the troll incident?

The past two days, when she went to the dungeons for potions, Snape had been behind his desk grading homework. She had been so dazed by the bitter potions that she hadn't noticed when he started limping.

Was her face that aggressive? She hadn't felt much pain when she hit him. Eliana smugly touched her chin, thinking she was amazing.

Maybe she should try hitting a rock to see, perhaps she'd gain another offensive method in the future.

She seriously pondered this in her heart.

"I want to get the books back," Harry suddenly said. "I want to read them again before the match tomorrow."

Hermione and Ron stared at him in shock, as if they had seen a chicken speak human words.

"You're a pure Gryffindor," Ron said.

"I don't really dare to go," Hermione said.

"Okay, Harry, I'll go with you," Eliana said. "I want to see if his wound is okay."

The three of them spoke at the same time, and then Ron and Hermione turned their shocked gazes to Eliana.

"You're a Gryffindor too," they said in unison.

Harry and Eliana walked towards the staff room together, because Harry felt that Snape would be too embarrassed to refuse his reasonable request in front of other teachers.

"Elly," Harry said, standing at the door of the staff room, taking a deep breath. "Let me speak first, then take the book and leave, and you can ask about his leg afterward, okay?"

He was afraid that if he stayed with Snape for too long, he wouldn't dare to speak—and he didn't want to stay with Snape for long either.

Eliana, sensing his thoughts, raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

She even felt Harry standing there was disturbing her, Humph.

Harry took another deep breath, paced back and forth at the door twice, stopped, turned around, and strode towards the door, raising his hand high like a charging warrior—then gently knocked.

The sound was smaller than Ron's rat gnawing on seeds.

Eliana silently watched Harry, who had made a big show of preparing and then farted, and took a walnut from her pocket to bite.

Harry's heart was about to jump out of his chest, and he didn't notice Eliana cracking a walnut beside him at all.

There was no movement from inside. He knocked again, and with slightly trembling hands, pushed the door open a little, cautiously peering through the gap, then his eyes widened.

The other professors were not there. Only Snape was sitting on a hard sofa, his floor-sweeping robes pulled up above his knees, blood flowing down from his knees. Filch, opposite him, seemed to be handing him medicine.

He heard Snape's low voice: "How can one pair of eyes keep track of three heads?"

Harry felt his wildly beating heart was about to be spat out from his throat. He held his breath, trying to close the door again without anyone noticing, when suddenly a fierce force pushed his shoulder—

"What are you dawdling around the office door for—" Eliana's clear voice, not suppressed at all, rang loudly in the quiet corridor.

At the same time, a rough shout came from inside the room: "Potter!!"

Harry hadn't reacted yet. Eliana, beside him, seemed to have seen Snape's injured leg and let out a long, sharp, earth-shattering scream: "Professor!! What happened to you, Professor!!!"

Harry's head buzzed.