Through the Pages of Time: Joey’s Hogwarts Tale

"Hey Joey, what's the matter with you?"

Early the next morning, Fred and George appeared in the Gryffindor common room, proudly donning their hand-knitted Christmas sweaters from their mother. However, their cheerful energy faltered when they spotted Joey lying sprawled out like a lifeless puddle in front of the fireplace, a blanket draped over her.

Joye weakly raised a small pendant in her trembling hand. Her voice, distorted with excitement and exhaustion, came out in a stuttering, eerie tone: "I—Dad—Dad—Sent—My—Christmas—Christmas—Gift—Gift—Yo—"

Her broken speech, combined with the unsettling enthusiasm in her eyes, made her look like a possessed doll straight out of a horror film.

Fred and George clung to each other in exaggerated horror. "Ah—help! Zombie doll!"

Their commotion roused Charlie and Percy, who stumbled out of their dormitory in their pajamas, wands at the ready. Charlie's eyes darted around as he demanded, "Where?! Are there zombies in Hogwarts?!"

Joye wanted to curse at them for their absurdity, but her body refused to cooperate. Moving sluggishly, she began crawling towards the three Weasley boys, her stiff limbs dragging across the carpet. Reaching their feet, she looked up with a rigid smile and hissed, "Yes—I—"

"AH—"

"AH—"

"AH—"

"AH—"

Four distinct screams echoed through the room before someone instinctively lashed out with a foot. Before Joye knew it, she was soaring through the air, sent flying across the room.

As she lost consciousness, her last thought was filled with indignant rage—whose foot smelled that bad?!

"Kicking a girl away! Charlie, is this where your athletic talent is put to use?"

"I didn't mean to! She scared us!"

"She was terrifying! Percy almost cried! Right, George?"

"That's right!"

"I did not!" Percy huffed indignantly.

The argument continued, growing more chaotic.

"Close the curtains! The light's too strong; she'll wake up with a headache!"

"Oh, that girl looks so pitiful."

"If any girl actually likes you lot, I'll eat my own head."

The light was dazzling.

Joye's eyelids felt unbearably heavy, but with effort, she forced them open, only to find that her vision was oddly narrow. She could see just a sliver through the gap of her swollen eyelids. Through the blur, she spotted Professor McGonagall standing sternly before the four Weasley boys, all of whom looked like children being scolded by their mother, their heads drooping in shame.

Before she could speak, Madam Pomfrey's face appeared above her, her expression one of concern. "Oh dear, you're awake! Do you feel any discomfort?" she asked, eyes glistening with relief.

Joye's throat felt like sandpaper, and when she tried to speak, it came out as a hoarse croak. "Eyes…" she rasped, wincing at the pain.

Madam Pomfrey immediately handed her a vial of transparent potion with a minty aroma. "Drink this, dear. It will help."

She didn't hesitate, gulping it down in one go. Instantly, a cooling sensation spread down her throat, clearing the pain as if it had never been there.

Merlin! Potions truly were magical! She made a mental note to be nicer to her brother, who excelled in Potions. It might guarantee her a steady supply of these miraculous remedies in the future.

"I can't seem to open my eyes properly," Joye murmured, though her voice now sounded clearer, even pleasant.

Madam Pomfrey's expression turned even softer.

Professor McGonagall shot Charlie a glare so sharp it could have cut glass. Charlie, looking utterly ashamed, rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"What's wrong? Am I dying?" Joye asked, panic creeping into her tone.

"No, no… let's see…" Fred, trying to be helpful, pulled out a mirror and handed it to her.

The moment she saw her reflection, the mirror screamed, "I don't want to look at her! I don't want to look at the pig's head! No! I'm blind!"

Joye frowned. Why was there a pig's head in the mirror?

"You already have a pig's head here!" she muttered in confusion.

"That's you, idiot!" the mirror snapped back.

Wait. What?!

Disbelieving, she touched her face—only to find the pig's head in the mirror mimicking her every move.

"Get out of my body!" the mirror shrieked.

"No! Who did this?!" Joye screamed.

The ensuing chaos of shouts and wails filled the room. Professor McGonagall attempted to intervene, but her voice was drowned out by the racket.

Then, a low, impatient voice cut through the noise.

"Silence."

Joye's mouth continued opening and closing, but no sound emerged. The sudden quiet was a blessing to everyone's ears.

Professor Snape stepped out of the fireplace, brushing the ashes from his robes. His sharp gaze swept over the gathered students, lingering for only a second on each of them—just enough to let them know he was in an exceptionally foul mood.

"Does it really take this many 'brilliant' Gryffindors to deal with something as simple as a silencing spell?" Snape sneered.

Professor McGonagall looked slightly embarrassed but was promptly cut off as Snape handed a small vial to Madam Pomfrey. "I sincerely hope I won't have to waste my time and potion ingredients on something as trivial as an anti-swelling draught again," he said icily.

With a dramatic turn, he strode back toward the fireplace. Just before stepping through, he shot a final glare at the room, gritted his teeth, and spat out, "Merry Christmas."

No one dared to respond, but a collective thought filled their minds: With you around, how could anyone have a merry Christmas?

Snape's potion was as cold as the man himself. After drinking it, Joye felt like she was turning into an icicle.

Madam Pomfrey calmly handed her a cup of hot cocoa. "Drink this, dear," she instructed gently.

The warmth spread through her instantly, banishing the chill from Snape's draught.

"In an hour, your face will return to normal," Madam Pomfrey assured her. "You can either rest here or leave."

Professor McGonagall ushered the four Weasley brothers out for a well-deserved lecture. Joye, lying in bed, suddenly remembered something—her broom!

She leaped up, hurriedly ran back to the common room, and after a frantic search, finally found it beneath the sofa.

"This can't be lost!" Clutching the treasured item, she kissed it before deciding against storing it in her jewelry box and instead tucked it safely into her pocket.

As promised, an hour later, her face returned to normal. Cheerfully, she headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, her high ponytail bouncing behind her. The morning's chaos was already forgotten—but not by the Weasley brothers, who involuntarily shrank away at her approach.

"Good morning!" she greeted them brightly, sitting beside Fred.

Fred scooted closer to George, only to be shoved back. In moments of danger, brotherhood took a backseat.

Joye frowned. "Why are you all looking at me like you've seen a ghost? Am I that scary?"

Charlie awkwardly pushed a slice of bread toward her. "Hey, Joey, uh… I didn't mean to this morning…"

"Ah! That's right! I wanted to show you this in the morning!" Joye smacked her forehead, suddenly remembering the treasure tucked away in her pocket. With a triumphant grin, she pulled it out and held it up for Fred and George to see.

Charlie, who had been about to speak, silently shoved another piece of bread into his mouth. So… I'm still apologizing, huh?

Fred peered at the small object curiously. "A pendant?"

"This isn't just an ordinary ornament," Joye said with an air of mystery. "It's a voucher."

George leaned in, examining the tiny trinket—a delicate charm shaped like a flying carpet and a broom. "A voucher for what?"

Fred suddenly gasped, his eyes widening in realization. "Wait… this isn't for—? A real Nimbus 1700?!"

Joye said nothing, but the proud gleam in her eyes was answer enough.

"Wow!"

"Cool!"

The twins practically drooled over the pendant, passing it between them like it was a holy relic.

"It's a Christmas present from my father," Joye explained, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can pick it up at the store next summer. But my mother doesn't know—so you have to keep it a secret! Not a word to anyone!" She shot them a pleading look, knowing full well that if her mother found out, she would never be allowed to keep it. Linda had always disapproved of her daughter's love for high-speed flying. Not ladylike, she would say.

"Shh—"

"Shh—"

The twins made identical gestures of secrecy, nodding in perfect unison.

"So, that's why you were so excited this morning? You didn't sleep all night?" Fred asked, reluctantly handing the pendant back.

"No," Joye sighed, pressing her forehead. "I stayed up singing and dancing to every song by the Weird Sisters all night…"

"Pfft—hahahaha!"

"Pfft—hahahaha!"

The twins burst into uncontrollable laughter, instantly picturing her one-person concert.

Then, Joye suddenly stopped laughing and narrowed her eyes. "By the way—who kicked me this morning?"

Charlie choked on his bread. "Cough—cough—!"

The twins and Percy immediately buried their faces in their plates, suddenly very focused on their food. Yep, so hungry. Starving, actually. No time to talk…

Before Joye could interrogate them further, a flurry of wings and rustling paper filled the Great Hall.

"Wah la la la la—"

A storm of owls swooped overhead, dropping what seemed like an endless shower of newspapers. Pages fluttered through the air like falling leaves, creating a spectacular, chaotic scene.

One newspaper landed right on Joye's head. She pulled it off with mild annoyance—until her eyes landed on the front page.

She froze.

"Wait… what?!"

Right there, printed in bold letters, was a name she definitely recognized. And beneath it—

A large black-and-white photo of a gaunt man, with wild, matted hair and a sharp, handsome face. Despite the grainy quality, he looked… smug. No—triumphant. His thin lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk.

Sirius?!

Her mind reeled. Wait, wasn't he supposed to be in Azkaban? Didn't he escape later—when Harry was in school? Her memories of the original story were a jumbled mess, but she was pretty sure he hadn't escaped twice.

Across the table, Charlie whistled. "Oh-ho! Look at this! 'The Good Brother Who Has Been Misunderstood'—Sirius Black was actually innocent! No wonder Dad always told Mom he never believed Sirius would betray anyone." He shook his head in amazement. "I remember the day Sirius was arrested—Dad was really upset."

Percy skimmed the article with a deep frown. "This is well-written, but… does our school usually get this many copies of the Daily Prophet?"

Fred flipped to the back page and snorted. "Oh, you didn't see this? There's a thank-you letter here. Apparently, 'the selfless Mr. Sirius Black' donated ten thousand Galleons to the Ministry of Magic to 'improve outdated office facilities.' As a thank-you, the Ministry sent every wizard a complimentary copy of the newspaper to clear his name. Also, Mr. Black personally asked them to wish everyone a 'Merry Christmas.'"

George let out a low whistle. "Damn. That's… generous."

"Really generous," Fred added.

Joye, however, wasn't listening anymore.

Something about all of this felt off.

She scratched her head, her confusion deepening. This plot… feels really wrong…