Scarlet was pleased to see the news that new evidence had emerged, suggesting that Sirius Black might be proven not guilty, and an investigation was underway.

Looks like it’s time to deal with the other two problems...Starting with Professor Quirrell, perhaps?

Halloween arrived sooner than expected.

It wasn’t a holiday Scarlet had ever paid much attention to. In her previous life, she had lived in a more Asian-influenced culture where Halloween wasn’t a big deal. At the orphanage, the budget was too tight for the children to have proper Halloween celebrations, so they focused more on Christmas and New Year’s. Though she knew Halloween was eagerly anticipated by people in England, it hadn’t been on her radar...She enjoyed it anyway.

Just as she was soaking in the atmosphere, Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, his face pale with terror, his turban askew. He staggered toward Professor Dumbledore's chair, leaned heavily against the table, and gasped, “Troll -- in the dungeons! -- thought you ought to know...”

Then, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

The students immediately panicked, chaos erupting in the hall. But Professor Dumbledore acted swiftly, sending out purple firecrackers that caught everyone’s attention, silencing the crowed as he rumbled, “Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

The prefects jumped into action, with Hufflepuff’s seventh-year prefects quickly taking charge. “First years, gather and leave first! Emily, Jonathan, you lead the way! Second years, follows. Seniors, stay behind and set an example for the younger students!”

Noticing her friends still looking nervous, scared, and confused, Scarlet raised her voice, “First years, follow me! Follow the redhead!”

This worked like a charm. Amelia and Maya were the first to fall in behind Scarlet, followed by Justin and the others, all trotting toward the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Emily, who was leading the way ahead of Scarlet, turned and smiled, “Nice! Ever thought about becoming a prefect yourself later on?”

“Nope, too busy,” Scarlet replied without hesitation, her light-hearted tone helping to calm the students around her. The sense of calm gradually spread among them all.

“Thought you’d say that.” Jonathan chuckled, “Still busy with you book?”

“Yeah, I’m reaching the climax. Been struggling to come up with a better way to build it up.”

“Can’t help you with that, but good luck.”

“Thanks!”

They arrived at the dormitory not long after. Emily and Jonathan stepped inside while Scarlet stood off to the side, counting heads as their housemates filled into the room.

“All present!”

The prefects let out a collective sigh of relief, and Scarlet stayed behind to close the dormitory door.

Just before Scarlet could close the door, she sensed something strange; the mark she had left on Professor Quirrell’s turban was moving in an odd way. Recalling the layout of Hogwarts, she realised he wasn’t heading toward the hospital wing or the dungeons, where a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor should be during a crisis...No, he was heading toward the forbidden third-floor!

“Felicia, I forgot something important. I need to go back and retrieve it,” Scarlet said hastily, tugging at the robe of the seventh-year prefect beside her, who was helping her close the entrance.

“But Scarlet, it’s dangerous --”

“I know, don’t worry. You know me, I’ll be fine,” Scarlet assured her quickly, “You know I don’t lie!”

“Well...”

Before Felicia could stop her, Scarlet darted out of reach and sped off, her voice echoing through the hallway, “I’ll be back soon!”

With a swift wind enchantment cast on her feet and legs, she increased her speed. She didn’t wait for the staircase to shift; instead, she practically parkoured her way straight to the third floor, where she caught a glimpse of the purple turban.

“Professor Quirrell!” She called out mid-air, startling the already-nervous professor. “Why are you here? I thought you were supposed to be in the hospital wing or helping the other professors deal with the troll?”

She landed in front of the now-open door to the forbidden room, wearing a smile that didn’t quite mask the threatening undertone in her voice.

Professor Quirrell’s face turned ghostly white as he stammered, trying to form an excuse, but Scarlet cut him off.

“I’m sure Professor Quirrell isn’t up to anything...suspicious, right?” Scarlet said, her voice laced with feigned innocence. She had only vague memory of this part from the film, but whatever was hidden in this room, it was clearly something important, and it definitely shouldn’t into the hands of someone with a suspicious soul fragment clinging to his head. She had to come up with something fast – something that could keep him from attempting anything else, like tonight’s troll incident, to access the room. Smirking, she added, “Actually, I know you’re up to something. I can see your little secret...hiding under your turban.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Professor Quirrell’s face paled even further. “T-this is not a funny joke, Ms. Hong...”

“Ms. Hong!” a deep voice suddenly boomed from the room. Professor Snape stepped out of the shadows. “While I appreciate your efforts in guarding the door for me as I check on the security measures, I must remind you to mind your language when speaking with a professor.”

Scarlet was puzzled for a moment, but she kept her expression neutral, smiling as she nodded, “Glad to be of help, Professor Snape. And I apologise, Professor Quirrell, if I was being rude.”

“I-it’s alright, I-I should join the other professors now...” Professor Quirrell stammered before hurrying away, practically running as he left.

Once Professor Quirrell was out of sight, Professor Snape, glancing to ensure no one was around, said quietly, “I believe, Ms. Hong, you have a good excuse for behaving like a reckless Gryffindor instead of remaining with your House in the dormitory?”

“Well, I suppose Professor Snape has already gotten to know me better through Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore?” Scarlet replied calmly. She didn’t recall the exact reasons this character was so beloved by fans in her previous life, but she knew one thing: despite being a double-sided spy, he was ultimately on Harry’s side. Trusting that, she decided to be honest. “I saw a soul fragment attached to his head. It gave me a very bad feeling - dark, oppressive, distorted, full of hatred. Like a snake waiting to strike at the right moment. Thought you’d want to know.”

She then cast a brief glance at his left arm. “Somehow, it’s linked to the mark you carry.”

For a brief second, Professor Snape’s eyes widened in surprise, a rare and telling reaction for someone who usually maintained the same stern expression, even when glaring at students.

“Have you informed Professor Dumbledore?” He asked, his voice low, as if he were trying to conceal his shock.

“Not yet, planning to. But I needed to be sure if he’s reliable,” Scarlet replied. “You’re welcome to pass along my words, but I suspect he would take action.”

“Any why do you think that?”

“He’s training the saviour - the Boy Who Lived. Don’t you think the way he’s guarding the third floor looks more like a test or a game rather than a proper security measure?” After weeks of reading up on recent history and news, Scarlet had a clearer understanding of Harry Potter’s status. “Perhaps he believes Harry will play a key role in defeating the dark wizard and wants to prepare him.”

Professor Snape remained silent for a long moment before asking in a whisper, “And you’re certain...the Dark Lord is still alive?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure at first,” Scarlet admitted, “but the mark on your forearm is still active. He’s alive somehow. Perhaps in fragments.”

Professor Snape’s eyes narrowed as he stared into hers. “Why are you entrusting me with this information?”

She shrugged lightly and replied, “Ancient magic.”

Professor Snape didn’t respond but instead ordered her to return to her dormitory, which she complied with immediately.

When she arrived back at the Hufflepuff common room, her housemates greeted her warmly, shoving food in her hands and welcoming her back. It was enough to make Scarlet to decide to take a break from her usual physical training and instead indulge in the comfort of food and friends, relishing the cozy atmosphere.

The next day, news spread rapidly throughout Hogwarts: Harry and Ron had confronted a troll to save the ever-reckless Hermione, the notorious “Miss Know-it-all”. From her place at the long table, Scarlet observed the trio was finally coming together, just as she remembered from the films. Other boys seemed to be warming up to Hermione as well, though she still appeared to struggle with making friends among the Gryffindor girls.

Later that day, Hermione found Scarlet in the library and eagerly began recounting all the details of the previous night.

“If it wasn’t for Harry and Ron, I could have been killed. Breaking the rules isn’t as terrifying as I thought – especially since I can always win back my points,” Hermione said, though her voice still trembled at the memory of being so close to the troll.

“Well, I’m happy that you finally making friends.” Scarlet said.

“Yeah, they’re good friends, even if they can still annoy me at times. Boys!” Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration, but then her gaze landed on the notebook Scarlet was reading. “What’s that?”

“It’s Ron’s report on the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest,” Scarlet said, flipping through the pages. “His handwriting’s better than I expected, and the information he gathered is actually decent. I was expecting worse.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. “His handwriting really is terrible. I’ve never seen him put in this much effort before.”

“Well,” Scarlet grinned, “it turns out a handsome reward does wonders.”

“Scarlet, you’ve been spending a lot of money at school,” Hermione said, her tone concerned.

Scarlet shrugged again. “I don’t mind spending, as long as it saves me time. Besides, haven’t you noticed? My spending is actually helping some students.”

“Helping?” Hermione looked puzzled.

“Bet you never realised how expensive the tuition fees and school supplies are for some students to attend Hogwarts.” Scarlet said. “It’s a heavy burden for some of them, you know.”

Hermione went silent, processing the new perspective.

“I selectively choose those who need help and are willing to work for it,” Scarlet continued, “Ron’s one of them. I’m sure you’ve noticed his wand, and his robe? With what I’ve paid him, he should finally have enough money for a new wand. Though, I don’t have many tasks suitable for him, since most of mine require attention to detail, which, well...Ron’s not exactly known for.”

Hermione lowered her head, her expression thoughtful, “Scarlet, I feel awful.”

“Why?”

“I’ve just been sniggering at Ron’s chipping wand, thinking he looks funny waving it, and I never thought about it beyond that,” Hermione replied, her eyes growing red.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Scarlet said with a casual tone, “Ron doesn’t want anyone’s pity. He’s carefree about it and still lives with a smile. Just keep treating him the way you always have, and leave the rest to me.”

“To you? But you’re just a student.”

“And a businesswoman,” Scarlet added with a wink, “I’ve commissioned Fred and George to work on some inventions. I’m sure they’ll find a way to look after their baby brother.”

“...wow.” Hermione sighed, clearly impressed.

Scarlet’s eyes drifted back to the report in her hand, which had flipped to a section describing unicorns, specifically the properties of unicorn blood: “Unicorn blood is famed for its powerful healing properties...despite its life-saving abilities, drinking unicorn blood comes with a severe curse...The blood of a unicorn will keep one alive, even if they are an inch from death, but at a terrible price.”

Suddenly, she remembered the odd smell she had noticed beneath the overpowering scent of garlic smell...Something foul, like the stench of decay.