Hogwarts Emerald

Eda dared to confront Marcus Flint directly because she knew she could handle the hulking Slytherin. However, she hadn't expected Flint to be so utterly useless.

Not even a trace of satisfaction from taking revenge!

Unable to hold it in, Eda accidentally let out a laugh. She looked at the burly, muscular Slytherin before her and thought to herself that pure-blood families weren't all that impressive after all.

"Flint, is your brain made entirely of muscle?" Fred said with a laugh, clapping his hands mockingly.

Flint, furious at the taunt, clenched his jaw, making his protruding teeth even more pronounced. His terrifying appearance was far more intimidating than his spells. He cast another spell at Eda, this one stronger and fueled by anger.

Eda simply sidestepped to dodge it. While the spell had gained power, its aim was even worse. Fred wasn't wrong—Flint's brain might very well be all muscle, along with a fair amount of underhanded schemes.

This led Eda to question: How on earth has Flint survived this long without Snape throttling him? Is Snape really that merciful?

As Eda indulged in her musings, Flint lowered his wand. His spells couldn't hit Eda, leaving him looking like a gorilla being toyed with.

If spells wouldn't work, then brute force would. Flint decided to use the most primitive method to resolve the situation. He charged at Eda with all his might, the distance between them small enough for him to close within a few steps.

Like a raging bull, Flint barreled forward. He seemed to hear Eda say something just before he collided with what felt like a solid wall. At that moment, his consciousness blurred, and everything went dark.

When Flint came to his senses, he found himself lying flat on the cold corridor floor, with the sound of the twins' laughter ringing in his ears. It was as if they were laughing directly into his ears.

Dazed and aching all over from the fall, Flint sat up, shaking his large head before looking at Eda again. She was still standing there, unmoving, with a slight smile on her face. Her arms were crossed, and her right index finger was lightly tapping her left arm.

Even someone as dim-witted as Flint could now grasp the situation.

The self-assured Flint was no match for Eda. From the very beginning, he shouldn't have chosen to confront her, the one standing calmly on her own. If Eda dared to face an older and much larger boy by herself, she obviously had nothing to fear.

The twins hadn't lifted a finger the entire time. Their roles were simply to stand guard and mock Flint, ensuring the revenge mission was completed before anyone else showed up.

No matter which approach Flint had chosen, he would have ended up facing Eda. His fate was sealed from the start—it all depended on how far Eda wanted to go.

Perhaps Flint shouldn't have done something so despicable in the first place. If he had just used a few dirty tricks on the field, Eda might not have said anything. But to go as far as pulling such a stunt after the match? That was crossing the line.

It was a matter of character, and he had directly injured Charlie. Eda, therefore, had no guilt about striking back—if anything, she felt like she was going too easy on him.

Eda never moved closer to Flint and wouldn't let him approach her, either. She hadn't forgotten how she had once narrowly escaped from Bullstrode. If Flint somehow got a bright idea to replicate that incident, Eda's dignity would be completely shattered.

So, when Flint charged at her, Eda immediately cast a Barrier Charm that sent him flying.

Whoever said a little witch only needs a Lumos spell to handle things? That's completely unrealistic! Eda's small frame might suffice against her peers, but someone like Flint, with his build? One punch would probably "make her cry"—and for a long time, at that.

"Is it my turn now?" Eda spoke with a smile still on her face. "Silencio!"

Flint opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Seeing Eda's mischievous grin, he felt a chill run down his spine. He got up and tried to run toward the twins, hoping Eda wouldn't dare to cast spells for fear of accidentally hitting them.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

With a loud thud, Flint's legs snapped together as if bound by invisible ropes, leaving him unable to move them apart.

Thud!

He fell flat onto the floor, managing to shield his head with his hands just in time, but his nose and mouth still hit the ground, leaving him bloodied.

Flint tried to get up and hop away, but before he could, Eda's next spell struck him. He felt a sharp, stinging pain on his back, like he had been whipped.

One lash followed another, each one searing into his back. The pain was excruciating—he wanted to scream and call for help, but the Silencing Charm ensured he couldn't make a sound. Not even he could hear his own cries.

The whip-like spell Eda was using was something she'd found in the Restricted Section of the library. Unlike the Cruciatus Curse, it wasn't considered Dark Magic. It inflicted physical pain without leaving visible marks or causing lasting harm. Most importantly, it wasn't lethal.

The twins found it hard to watch. They thought Eda might as well give Flint a quick and straightforward punishment, rather than this prolonged ordeal. Besides, the way Eda wielded her "light whip" looked downright bizarre.

"S.. She is really scarry!"

Fred's survival instincts kicked in, and he lowered his head, reflecting on whether he had been too obnoxious lately. Had he unknowingly done something to anger Eda?

George glanced down at the Marauder's Map in his hands, having similar thoughts. Though, if anyone were to die first, it would probably be Fred. George reassured himself that he'd been far gentler and more considerate toward Eda than his brother.

The four people in the hallway were preoccupied with different thoughts. The twins were debating whether they should preemptively apologize to Eda. Flint, on the receiving end of the punishment, could only pray for it to end soon. Eda, however, wasn't thinking about anything—she was simply a relentless whipping machine at the moment.

"Eda, that's enough. Someone's coming this way," George, who was monitoring the map, said. They couldn't control if Flint reported them, but it was better not to be caught in the act.

Eda nodded and walked over to Flint. With a flick of her wand, she flipped him onto his back. Squatting down next to him, she said, "If you don't want me to come looking for you again, remember to apologize to Charlie."

Without waiting for a response, Eda stood up. Instead of leaving immediately, she raised her foot and stomped down hard, forcibly giving Flint an impromptu dental adjustment.

Flint, curled up on the ground, clutched his mouth and bent over like a shrimp.

He didn't dare look at the three leaving figures. Eda's words before leaving echoed ominously in his ears: "If you want revenge, I'll take it. If you want to report me, I'll be waiting~~"

On the way back to the Gryffindor Tower, the twins were a bit uneasy, worried that Eda might have gone too far. Fred asked, "Do you think this will get you into trouble?"

"Expulsion is unlikely. Detention is probably inevitable," Eda replied nonchalantly. She had been careful with her actions—while Flint looked miserable, his injuries were nothing compared to Charlie's. He'd still be able to hop off to class tomorrow.

If Flint did decide to report her, Eda figured the punishments they received would likely be similar. If, however, she was treated unfairly because Flint came from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight while she was Muggle-born, Eda wouldn't hesitate to escalate things. A person pushed to the brink could do just about anything.

Ever since Benedict Fowley had been sent to Azkaban, the Foley family, based in Hampshire, had been lobbying tirelessly to secure his release.

Eda and Daniel Bell, both victims of Benedict Fowley's actions, had never once been approached or questioned by the pure-blood wizards of the Foley family from Hampshire. Perhaps their mindset was the same as most pure-blood families—they believed themselves inherently superior.

Though Eda had never mentioned this to anyone, she had been holding a deep-seated anger in her heart. If she were stronger, she would have already gone to Hampshire to have a "chat" with those pure-blood wizards.

During the summer holidays, Dumbledore had arranged for Mr. Weasley to take Eda home, likely out of concern that she might face retaliation. Then again, it was also possible the other side simply didn't regard her as worth their attention at all.

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