Eda was never oo procrastinate.

  As soon as she returned from Hogsmeade, she buried herself in the library, determio find everything she could about the vilge.

  Hogsmeade, a vilge posed entirely of witches and wizards, had a long and storied history.

  Its first resident was Hengist, who settled there during a time when Muggles, fearful of magic, ducted turies-long witch hunts, ruthlessly perseg wizards and those associated with them.

  While some wizards faced Muggle punishments without fear—some eveing it as a challenge—many lost their lives uhe brutal persecution. Hengist came to Hogsmeade seeking refuge, to escape the cruelty of Muggles. Over time, more and more witches and wizards settled there, gradually f a unity that eventually became the Hogsmeade Vilge known today.

  One of the most notable events in Hogsmeade's history was the Goblin Rebellion of 1612, during which a tavern in the vilge served as the headquarters for the movement.

  The Goblin Rebellion was one of a series of uprisings anized by goblins to protest against the discrimination and prejudice they faced from wizards. Suts were on during the 17th and 18th turies. Even today, many radical goblins tio oppose the Ministry of Magic's policies, demanding equal rights.

  Eda spent days sc tless resources in the library. From Historical Sites in Magical History to Hogwarts: A History, and many other books, she could find no records of the Shrieking Shack.

  The legend seemed more like a tale passed down through word of mouth among the vilgers.

  Uo find anything in the books, Eda turo people for answers.

  She asked numerous older students she had befriended in the library, as well as Professlover, but still came up empty-handed.

  If the living 't help, then talk to the dead. Eda sought out Gryffindor's house ghost, Sir Nichos de Mimsy-Pton. When she found him, he was gazing at the portrait of Anne Boleyn hanging in the castle.

  Having been a ghost for turies, Sir Nichos gave Eda a vague ahe legend of the Shrieking Shack had not been around for very long—perhaps a few decades, or at most a hundred years.

  As a "living" ghost, there wasn't much Eda expected him to remember accurately, apart from his owhday.

  There were few events he could recall in precise detail. Stories passed down orally, like the tale of the Shrieking Shack, often veered further from the truth as they spread.

  Still, the timeframe Sir Nichos provided was helpful. At least now Eda wouldn't have to search aimlessly through the library's vast archives.

  While Eda spent her days p over books, December arrived at Hogwarts.

  The cold, damp air g the students' bodies and souls every m, making it exceedingly difficult to get out of bed.

  One sunny afternoon, Eda decided to take a break from the library and go for a walk.

  The thiow ched beh her boots with a satisfying "ch, ch."

  Bathed in sunlight, Eda strolled leisurely to the Bck Lake. The t mountains and the expansive ke always had a way of drawing her in.

  The cold weather had driven away most of the couples who usually lingered by the ke, leaving it quiet and serene—perfect for Eda to clear her mind. The distant snoed peaks stood like wise old men with white hair, silently watg over her. What Eda didn't know, however, was that nearby, a real white-haired figure was watg her.

  "Twist, no books with you today?"

  Professlover Cecile approached, hands csped behind his back. His face ale, making him appear as if he were unwell.

  Glover Cecile had always been kind to Eda, but he never used her niame. In fact, he never even called her Esmeralda. Instead, he sistently referred to her by her surname.

  "Wearing gloves makes flipping through books inve," Eda replied, shaking her gloved hands. The gloves were thick, part of a set that had beeo her along with earmuffs.

  "Even when I was a student, I disliked the weather here. And as I've aged, I've e to detest it even more," Professor Cecile said, standio Eda with an unmistakable tone of disdain in his voice.

  "Professor, you don't look well. Are you feeling unwell?" Eda asked as she observed him. His face ale as a sheet of paper, almost frightening in its pallor.

  Cecile touched his face briefly, then chuckled. "Is it that bad? When you grow old, all sorts of ailments catch up to you. No matter how powerful yic may be, it's no match for the passage of time."

  "Time has the power to frowth and the power t dee. It be both a teacher and an enemy."

  The weight of his words made the atmosphere heavy. her spoke for a moment. Cecile eventually reached into his robes and pulled out a small fsk. He unscrewed the lid and took a sip, his entire face sg up as if the tents were particurly unpleasant.

  "By the way, have you found any information about the Shrieking Shack?" Cecile's plexion seemed rosier after his drink, his energy restored, and even his voice souronger.

  Eda wasn't sure what Cecile was drinking, but she caught a familiar st.

  'Was that... '

  sidering the cold weather and being outdoors, she reasohat she must have imagi.

  "I've heard so many versions of ghost stories—there's just about everything imagi this point, no one knows more about the rumors surrounding the Shrieking Shack than I do," Eda replied. "But they're all just rumors, without much credibility."

  "Our world is full of all kinds of straales. Some are pletely false, while others are half-truths," Cecile said. "Our job is to elimihe falsehoods and, from the half-truths, extract the facts and uhe truth."

  It sounded almost like detective work. For a moment, Eda had an illusion that she wasn't by the Bck Lake at Hogwarts but instead on Baker Street in London.

  "It's a fasating process, sometimes even more enjoyable than disc the truth itself."

  Eda didirely agree with Cecile's perspective. She preferred results over processes. If given the choice, she would rather reap the rewards than put in the effort to seek them out herself.

  While the twins were reliable in many areas, this task was far too challenging for them. Eda knew she could only rely on herself.

  "I still prefer results for now. The process of searg is always so exhausting," Eda admitted. "Like this time—I've found nothing but baseless rumors. If I want to know the truth, I'll have to go there myself."

  Cecile didn't respond.

  Instead, he drew his wand and poi at the Bck Lake.

  A thick beam of dark light shot from the tip, heading straight for the ke's surface.

  The frozen surfad accumuted snow shattered uhe spell, sending a spray of water shooting two or three stories high. Yet, not a single drop spshed onto the pair standing on the shore.

  Eda didn't notice Cecile's rapidly paling face. She was too stunned by the power of the spell, filled with admiration for his trol ic. She couldn't help but wonder when she might ever reach that level herself.

  "When you do something like this, the results will e to you on their own," Cecile said, taking another sip from his small fsk. He tinued, "By then, you'll uand the joy of the process, because you'll have lost it."

  With that, Cecile slowly left the Bck Lake. His steps were sluggish, eae seeming to require a great deal of effort. His hunched figure made him look more like a frail old man than an unfivable Dark wizard.

  Eda watched his retreating back, her sense of mystery growing deeper. The tents of that small fsk emitted a st she found familiar—a st that reminded her of Snape's dimly lit office.

  _________

  Read 12 Chapters ahead:

  Patreon./Dragonel