All of Hufflepuff is Well-Behaved (Seeking Recommendations, Seeking Collections)

"Rita Skeeter? That reporter from the Daily Prophet?" Fred asked with a puzzled look. "What does she have to do with anything?"

George added from the side, "Besides, we aren't interested in her. She's destined for unrequited love."

"That's a real pity." Kyle didn't pursue the topic further; he offered a perfunctory reply and squeezed past the two of them.

Lunch had already begun, and Kyle only wanted to sit down and enjoy some tender steak and pumpkin juice, rather than standing at the entrance of the Great Hall like a blockhead.

Fred and George, however, didn't see it that way; they followed Kyle all the way to the Hufflepuff table.

"Although there's no evidence, I have a feeling that the Charms classroom exploded precisely because you were there."

Fred shoved Cedric aside, sat down next to Kyle, took a long, gulping swig of pumpkin juice, and continued, "Otherwise, why was everything fine before, and then this happens the moment you arrive? It must be your influence."

Hearing this, Kyle felt a weight on his back and nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

What was that supposed to mean? What had he done? He had been helping the whole time, hadn't he? Did they really have to pin this on him?

Kyle turned his head and, without a word, held up his middle finger.

Fred, however, ignored it entirely and continued on his own, "It's a shame you aren't in Gryffindor."

"We asked around," George laughed. "The first-year Gryffindors have Potions as their first class. If you were there, combined with the cooperation of the first-years, it's very likely that Snape would be the one ending up in the hospital wing."

"Yeah, it's such a pity." Fred set down his pumpkin juice and sighed regretfully, "If you could really send Snape to the hospital wing, you would definitely become a Gryffind... no, you would be a hero to all of Hogwarts!"

Whatever Fred was thinking about, he suddenly became excited, his whole body trembling, despite the regretful look he'd had just a moment ago.

Because he was so worked up, Fred didn't even notice Cedric tugging at his robes from the side.

"Seriously, Kyle, I still think you shouldn't be in Hufflepuff. Gryffindor is your true home."

"Let's assume you're right, but, Fred, George..." Kyle suddenly cleared his throat and said with a smile, "Why would you think the Gryffindor first-years would cooperate with me to deal with Professor Snape?

In my opinion, the young wizards in Gryffindor are all very polite, speak nicely, and have a kind Head of House. They wouldn't be so... well, unruly."

"What nonsense are you spouting, Kyle? Would an honest, rule-abiding kid even be sorted into Gryffindor?" Fred was stunned for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right, I shouldn't say it like that. I should say we just like adventure..."

"Then... Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, is this the reason you aren't eating at your own house table?"

A cold, emotionless voice came from behind them.

The smiles on Fred and George's faces vanished instantly, and they turned around with great difficulty.

"Professor McGonagall, when did you arrive..." Fred forced a smile that looked worse than crying and said dryly, "Um, I think you must have misunderstood something. I can explain."

"There is no need, Mr. Weasley. I believe I understood your words perfectly well; there is no misunderstanding. Furthermore, you should be grateful that it is I standing here and not Professor Snape."

Professor McGonagall's expression was calm, appearing no different from usual. "Because you have shown disrespect to a professor, ten points from Gryffindor. Ten points each."

That was fine, it was only points.

Fred and George breathed a sigh of relief. The term had just begun, and the Gryffindor hourglass was still quite full. Twenty points was acceptable.

"Additionally..." Professor McGonagall swept her gaze over the twins and continued, "In light of your poor performance during the Sorting Ceremony, you will both be in detention every night for the coming week."

Fred and George were struck as if by lightning.

The Sorting Ceremony? They thought that matter had already passed...

They didn't care about the points, but detention was different. And a full week of it? Seven whole days without being able to sneak out at night—this was practically killing them!

The two of them were already beginning to despair.

"Professor, please..."

Fred and George looked at Professor McGonagall with pathetic expressions, hoping to awaken some pity in her heart.

Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall didn't buy it at all, and her tone remained completely flat:

"Detention begins at eleven o'clock at night. Go find Filch; he will take you to the Trophy Room. There is a register there that records the names and deeds of all the outstanding students since the founding of Gryffindor.

You are to copy this register in its entirety until you are finished. Remember, each of you must do a full copy, and you are not permitted to use magic or Quick-Quotes Quills. It must all be handwritten."

After speaking, Professor McGonagall pointed toward the Gryffindor table and said, "Now, Mr. Weasleys, hurry back to your own table!"

Fred and George looked as if they had been struck by lightning again. They hung their heads and walked quickly back to the Gryffindor table, their faces filled with utter hopelessness.

Kyle also kept his head down, struggling to keep from laughing out loud. Only after the twins had left did he turn his head, acting as if nothing had happened. "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall. It is a pleasure to see you here."

Professor McGonagall's voice finally showed a hint of fluctuation as she replied, "Good afternoon, Mr. Chopper."

"Just call me Kyle, Professor," Kyle smiled. "Have you had lunch yet? If not, please have something here."

Cedric, having realized what was happening, hurriedly shifted to the side, clearing a sufficiently spacious spot.

Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly as she said, "I would be very happy to, but unfortunately, I have already eaten."

To maintain her dignified persona, Professor McGonagall usually came to the Great Hall before meal times or stayed in her office; she rarely ate with the students.

"That is truly unfortunate." Kyle sighed softly, and the other little badgers followed suit, wearing expressions of disappointment as if they truly wanted to dine with Professor McGonagall.

The entire group was perfectly well-behaved.

Professor McGonagall looked at the scene before her, then compared it to the chaotic Gryffindor table next door, and a wave of exhaustion washed over her.

There really was no comparison without harm.

Why were all the good children in other houses? Especially Kyle and Cedric—if only one of them had been sorted into Gryffindor.

That damn Sorting Hat...