"Malfoy deceived you," Hermione said to Harry. "Do you understand now? He never intended to meet you there. Filch must have known someone was going to the Trophy Room, and it's likely Malfoy leaked the information to him."
Harry thought Hermione might be right, but he clearly didn't want to admit it.
"Let's go," Harry turned around and said.
However, things were not that simple.
They had only walked about ten steps when they heard the spherical doorknob of a door rattle, and something darted out from a classroom in front of them.
It was Peeves the Poltergeist! When he saw them, he happily let out a shrill scream.
"Shut up, Peeves! Please, you'll get us expelled," Ron said, his face grimacing.
Peeves giggled mischievously, completely unconcerned about what Ron was saying.
"Naughty newcomers, wandering around in the dead of night. Tsk, tsk, tsk, mischievous, mischievous, you'll be caught," he mimicked the Sorting Hat in a strange accent.
"Peeves, would you like to know how the blood on Nearly Headless Nick got those silvery streaks?" Maca looked at him for a moment, then suddenly spoke up.
"Huh?" Peeves was taken aback at the mention of that name, showing a hint of timidity. "H-How did it happen?"
"Hehe, let me tell you. Baron liked eating poltergeists while he was alive, and he continued to do so even after he died..." Maca's face suddenly turned grim, and his tone of speech dragged out ominously, creating a somewhat eerie atmosphere. "I saw him passing by that way earlier. Did you see him?"
"Oh! No—"
Peeves screamed and darted through the wall with a whoosh.
"Oh, Maca, you're just too cool!" Ron exclaimed, while Harry and Neville nodded in agreement.
"Poltergeist?" Hermione was a bit puzzled. "What does that have to do with Peeves? Isn't he a ghost?"
"I asked Nearly Headless Nick. Peeves is a noisy spirit, not a ghost," Maca shook his head. "He can interact with the physical world; regular ghosts can't do that."
"You spoke with Nearly Headless Nick! Wasn't he frightening?" Ron asked in surprise.
Maca shook his head again, motioning for everyone to start walking as he casually explained, "Nearly Headless Nick is a good fellow. Don't be scared by his appearance; he's always been loyal to Hogwarts, both in life and death. Alohomora!"
Others were distracted by his sudden use of magic, and when they refocused, they realized they had already arrived at the end of the corridor.
"Let's go in and find a place to hide. At least we need to avoid Filch..." Maca started to say but then stopped.
"What's wrong? Why aren't we going in?" Ron whispered.
"...I think," Maca hesitated, stepping back and smiling awkwardly, "it might be a better idea to go meet Filch."
With a "bang," Maca closed the door again, and immediately, a deafening roar erupted from inside.
"Such a big dog." Harry seemed to catch a glimpse before the door closed.
"Yes, a dog with three heads," Maca sighed, then quickly added, "Run!"
As if following Maca's words, the door began to shake violently, undoubtedly from the large dog madly banging against it.
They ran down the corridor, sprinting as if they were flying. Filch must have been busy searching elsewhere for them. They didn't see any sign of him, nor could they afford to — they just wanted to get as far away from that monster as possible.
Harry and his companions ran until they came to the portrait of the Fat Lady on the eighth floor before stopping, but they noticed that Maca was nowhere to be found.
"I saw him run downstairs. He must have gone back to Hufflepuff's dormitory," Hermione said, panting.
In fact,
Maca didn't head straight back to the dormitory. Instead, he went to the Hogwarts kitchen to grab a bite to eat — he hadn't had much for dinner, and after all that running, he was starting to feel a bit hungry.
...
For the current Maca, "rest" was a luxury because he always felt like there was not enough time.
After their nocturnal adventure around Hogwarts that night, Maca threw himself back into studying and researching. It wasn't just Potions; he couldn't afford to slack off in the other subjects either. At least until he reached a level of proficiency where he could face real-world challenges without fear.
After all, there was still a Voldemort lurking in the shadows! He didn't want to be caught defenseless when the Death Eaters swarmed in.
Once the Invisibility Potion was ready, he would venture into the Restricted Section at night. If possible, he also wanted to delve into the so-called "Dark Magic" to understand how it fundamentally differed from other types of magic.
Time always slipped away unnoticed, and you only realized how much had changed around you when you looked back.
On the eve of Halloween, Maca once again encountered the mysterious Slytherin girl in the library. Unbeknownst to him, he had already spent nearly two months at Hogwarts.
"Excuse me, do you know where the book about 'Cultivating Wrinkled Figs' is located?"
The tone was flat and mundane once again, and the question was almost identical to the previous one. Furthermore, she was standing behind Maca once more. This left Maca speechless as he looked at the girl. After a moment, he pulled out a book from the stack in front of him and placed it on the nearby seat.
"I happen to have it here. You can sit down and read," Maca suggested softly.
To Maca's surprise, the girl obediently pulled out the chair's backrest, set aside her notebook, and quietly took a seat beside Maca. He had thought this girl never listened to anyone!
After a while, Maca watched as the girl flipped through the thick book, holding a pale green feather quill in her right hand, yet not a single word appeared on the notebook.
"Are you facing difficulties?" Maca couldn't help but ask.
"There are too many steps, too many words, and I don't know where to start," the girl raised her head and said earnestly.
For the first time, Maca got a clear look at the appearance of this mysterious girl—big round eyes, a delicate petite nose, and a fair, almost translucent complexion that proclaimed her as a charming and adorable young girl.
And, there were a few strands of hair peeking out from under her hat's brim. Her hair seemed to be white, an unhealthy shade of white.
Perhaps she disliked others seeing her hair, so she had stuffed it all into the pointed hat.
"... Just take notes: Wrinkled Figs, deciduous plant, strong root system, can survive in winter. Requires little water, water every 1-2 weeks; moderate fertilizer needs, fertilize every 3-5 weeks, dragon dung compost is optimal..."
Maca glanced at the book and recollected, then began to sort and explain the content step by step. The girl didn't seem concerned that Maca might make a mistake. She meticulously transcribed everything with her feather quill.
Watching the girl write the last letter, Maca was about to say something, but he saw her suddenly close the notebook, then put the book back on the stack in front of Maca.
Without a word, she stood up amidst Maca's puzzled gaze and left the library silently.
"—Again?" Maca touched his nose and muttered to himself in a low voice, "Did I come across as too annoying? Or does she dislike help from others? Or is it just plain shyness?"
The next morning, when Maca woke up, he smelled the overwhelmingly sweet aroma of roasted pumpkin in the corridors. To be honest, Maca didn't like pumpkins; he didn't like any food made from pumpkins. The slippery texture of pumpkin flesh made him feel nauseous.
After the first class of the morning, Maca walked through the crowded corridor with the others. The next class was Professor Flitwick's Charms class, and they needed to head upstairs.
"... No wonder everyone can't stand her," Maca suddenly heard Ron's voice amidst the bustling crowd, "Honestly, she's like a nightmare."
Then, he noticed a girl had collided with him and ended up in his arms.
"Oh, Merlin! This is a bit sudden. I haven't prepared... Hermione?" Maca took a closer look and realized that tangled mess of long hair could only belong to Miss Granger.
"I think she heard your words," Maca heard Harry's voice again, but he couldn't see them anywhere.
"Oh, s-sorry." Hermione seemed not to have realized whom she had bumped into.
"Uh, it's okay. I mean, what happened, Hermione?" Maca looked down at her and noticed her reddened eyes. "Who bothered you?"
"Ah! Maca, I-it's nothing..."
Hermione glanced up at him and then hurriedly ran off. Watching Hermione quickly disappear into the crowd, Maca felt a bit baffled—what exactly had happened?
As they say, "Those who are involved are confused." When you're in a certain environment, the richness and variety of things around you can make you overlook something. It wasn't until Maca arrived at the restaurant entrance during dinnertime that he inadvertently overheard a conversation between two Gryffindor girls.
"... Have you seen Hermione today?"
"I found Hermione just now. She's been crying in the girls' bathroom and won't let anyone comfort her."
Maca suddenly snapped to attention, looking at the colorful Halloween decorations in the restaurant. He finally realized—by now, Quirrell should have already let the troll in!
"Third floor? Could it be the bathroom where the troll is? The one with the troll's snot?"
Thinking and realizing, Maca hurriedly turned back and began running until he reached the second floor. Something didn't feel right.
"What's Quirrell's goal... Oh! The Philosopher's Stone!"
For these two months, Maca had been immersed in the ocean of magical knowledge, almost forgetting about the Philosopher's Stone entirely.
"Then, what place would be convenient for introducing a troll and also allow him to escape from the crowd?" Maca pondered quietly. Soon, he deduced the answer: Hermione was in the dungeons!