With Nerves Like That, He Wants to Steal the Sorcerer's Stone?

"Hey, sis, I wish you'd been at the match today."

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron gingerly touched the bruises on his face and spoke with deep regret.

Eliana raised an eyebrow, looking rather pleased with herself. "What, did you realize how much laughter you miss when I'm not around? That even an exciting Quidditch Match feels a little dull without me?"

"What?" Ron looked up, confused. "Oh, no, not that. The match was still plenty of fun without you. That didn't make a difference—"

Eliana's face fell at once.

Ron didn't notice. Still caught up in his own grievances, he sighed. "I just thought that if you'd been there, you could've knocked Malfoy's head off! You have no idea how nasty that mouth of his is!"

"Do you know what he said about me? That if brains were gold, I'd be poorer than I am now!"

He sounded thoroughly indignant.

"So what you wanted was someone to beat him up for you. Yes, Malfoy's awful. If good character were gold, he'd be green with copper from head to toe."

Eliana spoke coldly. Beside her, Ron nodded vigorously, urging her to go on. Then her expression changed, and she turned on him.

"But I think he had a point there." Eliana bared her little white teeth. "If the water in your head could be exchanged for an equal amount of gold, Ron, your skull would be a palace."

"Hey, Eliana!" Ron protested. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't even understand? Then I was right."

Eliana looked Ron up and down, folded her arms, and turned away with a disdainful snort.

Ron was so furious he nearly fell over. Like a puppy that had been kicked, he came at Eliana with an outraged yelp, demanding a duel.

"Come on, then." Eliana planted her hands on her hips and lifted her chin, looking down on him like a queen surveying her subjects.

"Enough! Quiet down, Ron!" Hermione grabbed the red-faced Ron with one hand and held back the growling Eliana with the other. "You too, Eliana! Both of you, calm down! Can't you just talk to each other?"

"We won today. Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup. It's a wonderful day!"

She tried soothing them one at a time.

Hermione felt exhausted.

The kind of exhausted you'd feel after spending eight straight hours getting a month-old baby to sleep, only to discover that a beagle had torn apart the living room while you weren't looking and was now barking loud enough to wake the baby again.

The professors at Hogwarts didn't have it easy.

They really don't, she thought, her face blank.

Eliana turned away in a huff and perched gingerly on the edge of an armchair. Her backside hadn't completely healed, but after kicking up an enormous fuss, she'd insisted on leaving the Hospital Wing.

There was no keeping a secret forever. Eliana was genuinely worried that if she stayed in the Hospital Wing too long, everyone would find out how she'd been hurt...

Just imagine: the whole school knowing that Eliana had landed in the Hospital Wing because the headmaster's turkey pecked her on the backside. She couldn't bear to think about it.

They can take my head, they can spill my blood, but Lady Ellie will never surrender her dignity!

Damn it, does Hogwarts have it in for my backside? Since Christmas, I've barely had a few days when I could sit comfortably.

Eliana accidentally bumped it and winced inwardly.

"You won't believe what I heard!" Harry came through the portrait hole behind the Fat Lady, panting. "Let's find an empty classroom!"

Eliana, whose backside was still aching, paused.

She raised her wand. The empty chairs in the Gryffindor Common Room rattled across the floor and formed a wide circle around them.

A few students glanced over curiously. Eliana glared them into looking away.

Eliana cast another spell. The string of little bells tied to her braid floated into the air, grew larger, then danced around the circle of chairs with a merry jangle. No one outside could hear a thing.

"Go on, Harry." Eliana lowered her wand.

"Right." Harry still lowered his voice by instinct. Hermione and Ron, who was still sulking, leaned in.

"We guessed right. The brain-dead dog is guarding the Sorcerer's Stone. I heard Snape say it."

Under Eliana's influence, Fluffy had long since lost his real name among the four of them. "Brain-dead dog" was what they called him now.

"I knew he knew, and he still wouldn't tell me. Stingy."

Eliana spat the word out.

"I'm not finished," Harry said after a pause. "Snape seemed to be testing whether Quirrell knew how to get past the brain-dead dog, but Quirrell didn't seem to know yet. Then Snape warned him to watch himself and said he knew all about his little tricks."

"What?" Eliana cried indignantly. "What has Quirrell done to make Professor Snape remember him so well? What makes him so special?"

Harry: ...

Hermione: ...

Ron: ...

Ron, already in a foul mood, immediately said with a sneer, "You could go steal the Sorcerer's Stone with Quirrell. Then Snape would remember you that well too."

"Ron, just stop. You can't beat Eliana, and she's going to clobber you again."

Hermione clutched at her hair in despair, like any mother whose two children started fighting the moment they were in the same room.

She was too late.

Eliana had already sent her enlarged bells flying to Ron's ear. They rang with a violent clang!

CLANG!!!

Ron's eyes turned into §§ on the spot.

"I've had enough." Hermione slammed a thick book onto the table. "A powerful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has his eye on History of Magic, and of my three teammates, two are idiots who start fighting the moment they open their mouths and have the maturity of toddlers!"

"Hogwarts can go down with us all!"

She stormed off toward the girls' dormitory, her bag swinging at her side.

"Uh..."

Ron and Eliana, who had been fighting—or rather, Eliana had been winning—stopped and stared blankly at Harry.

"Uh." Harry looked into two equally clear pairs of eyes, neither of which seemed troubled by a single thought, and managed a strained smile. "Look on the bright side. We've confirmed that Quirrell definitely wants to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, haven't we?"

"All we have to do is keep an eye on Quirrell!" he said.

But perhaps they didn't need to. Over the following weeks, Quirrell grew paler and thinner, until he looked as though a feather could knock him down.

"With nerves like that, he wants to steal the Sorcerer's Stone?" Eliana said scornfully. "He can't handle even a little pressure. I'd do better than him."

Soon, though, they had no time to think about that—especially Eliana. She was the first to leave the Quirrell surveillance squad. Final exams were approaching.

Eliana made a red ribbon and tied it around her head.

Seventy-six days until final exams.