Chapter 46: A False Reunion, Harry's Ecstasy
Early the next morning, the Hogwarts Great Hall.
Magically-created snowflakes drifted from the ceiling, and the long tables were laden with a sumptuous breakfast.
The atmosphere of the Christmas holidays grew stronger and stronger.
Hermione Granger sat alone at the corner of the Gryffindor table as usual, quietly eating her bread.
Just then, a figure stopped beside her.
It was Penelope Clearwater.
"Good morning, Granger." Penelope's expression was a bit strained, but she tried her best to act casual.
Hermione looked up, feigning surprise as she looked at her.
"Good morning, prefect Clearwater."
"Hermione," Penelope called her by her first name instead of her surname, attempting to bridge the distance between them.
"I found this while I was tidying up some old books yesterday."
She placed a heavy copy of the light of alchemy in front of Hermione.
"I thought you might be interested in this."
Hermione looked at the book's cover, understanding perfectly.
Draco's plan had begun.
"Oh, my goodness! It's about Alchemy!" A look of perfectly timed surprise and gratitude immediately appeared on Hermione's face.
"Thank you, Penelope! I was just thinking about researching this field!"
"You're welcome." Seeing Hermione's reaction, Penelopebreathed a sigh of relief and turned to walk away quickly.
Hermione picked up the book but didn't look through it immediately.
Clutching the book, she walked quickly to the other end of the long table.
Harry and Ron were listlessly poking at the sausages on their plates.
Thump!
Hermione slammed the heavy book down onto the table in front of them.
The loud noise startled both Harry and Ron.
"Hermione?" Ron looked at her in surprise.
Ignoring him, Hermione quickly flipped through the pages and pointed her finger at the contents of one of them.
"I found it!"
Her voice was loud, carrying an irrepressible excitement that immediately drew the attention of all the surrounding Gryffindors.
"Found what?" Harry leaned in.
"Nicolas Flamel!" Hermione announced loudly, pointing at the name on the page.
"The book says that Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone in modern times!"
The Philosopher's Stone!
As soon as those words came out, Harry's and Ron's eyes instantly lit up.
They snatched the book and read the contents greedily.
"...The Philosopher's Stone can transform any metal into pure gold and can also produce the Elixir of Life, granting the drinker immortality..."
"...the Flamels have lived for over six hundred years..."
At this moment, all the clues were linked together!
What Cerberus was guarding was the Philosopher's Stone!
What Snape wanted to steal was this object that could grant immortality!
"I get it!" Ron slapped his thigh. "Snape wants to steal the Philosopher's Stone for him! To bring him back to life!"
Harry also had a sudden realization. He looked up at Hermione excitedly.
"Hermione, you..."
His voice was a bit choked up.
"Thank you."
Harry reached out and tightly grasped Hermione's hand.
He thought Hermione was still angry with them; he hadn't expected that she had never given up and had been helping them in secret all along.
This regained friendship felt more precious to him than finding the clue itself.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." Ron's face flushed as he apologized awkwardly. "Before... I was such a jerk."
Looking at these two excited "friends" before her, Hermione felt no ripple of emotion in her heart; she even found it somewhat laughable.
But a gentle and slightly aggrieved expression appeared on her face.
"We're friends, aren't we?"
She said softly.
"We'll always be friends!" Harry nodded vigorously.
The so-called "golden trio," at this moment, was declared "reconciled" because of a carefully crafted lie.
The surrounding Gryffindors smiled with relief at the sight.
Meanwhile, at the distant Slytherin table.
Draco was using a silver knife to elegantly cut a fried egg into perfect small pieces.
He didn't even look up at the Gryffindor side, but everything happening there was clearly displayed on his system panel through Hermione's perspective.
Seeing Harry's tearfully grateful and foolish appearance, a mocking curl appeared at the corner of Draco's mouth.
"Draco, look at that mudblood."
Pansy Parkinson, sitting beside him, curled her lip in jealousy.
"How does she have the right to hold Harry Potter's hand? That dirty hand of hers should be chopped off!"
Draco didn't look at Pansy, only lightly dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
"Don't be in such a hurry, Pansy."
His voice was very soft, carrying a hint of reassurance.
"That's just part of the 'Pig-Rearing Plan'."
"A pig must always be fattened up before it's sent to the slaughterhouse."
"Every bit of false hope and joy now will turn into deeper despair in the future."
Pansy nodded, only half-understanding, but as she looked at Draco's composed manner—as if everything was under his control—the infatuation and fervor in her eyes deepened.
Over at the Gryffindor table.
The "reconciled" trio had already begun their self-righteous reasoning based on the book's contents.
"Snape is definitely doing it for Lord Voldemort! He wants to bring his master back to life!" Ron declared confidently.
"Exactly! Dumbledore took the Philosopher's Stone out of Gringotts and hid it at Hogwarts just to protect it!" Harryadded.
"We have to stop him!"
Their voices were filled with a naive sense of justice and mission.
They were completely unaware that they had stepped into a trap carefully laid by someone else.
All their reasoning was built on a false foundation.
They pointed their accusations squarely at Snape, completely ignoring Professor Quirrell, who was hiding right beside them and teaching them every day.
"I have to stay at school for the Christmas holidays!" Harry made his decision, his eyes determined.
"I'm going to keep an eye on Snape; I can't give him any chance to succeed!"
"We'll stay with you!" Ron and Hermione said in unison.
Of course, Hermione's "companionship" was for better surveillance and passing on intelligence.
Just then, an owl flew into the Great Hall and dropped a letter onto the plate in front of Draco.
On the envelope was the ornate wax seal of the House of Malfoy.
Draco opened the letter; it was from his father, Lucius.
The content of the letter was simple.
[My son, the'special gift' you require for the holidays has been arranged. It will appear at Hogwarts on time in another form. Enjoy your holidays. — Your loving father]
Draco held the letter to a candle flame and watched it turn to ash.
A genuine smile appeared on his face.
Things were getting more and more interesting.
Chapter 47: Prelude to the Holidays, The Reward of the Room of Requirement
Thick snow covered the courtyard and the Black Lake, turning the entire world into a expanse of silver and white.
Professor McGonagall held a piece of parchment, tallying the list of students staying at school.
"Draco Malfoy."
"Harry Potter."
"Ron Weasley."
"Hermione Granger."
As she read those names, a faint, imperceptible trace of complexity flickered across her stern face.
Most students excitedly dragged their luggage and boarded the Hogwarts Express back to London.
In the Castle, only a handful of students and Professors remained.
Night, the eighth-floor corridor.
Draco stopped in front of a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.
He confirmed no one was around, then walked back and forth three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry.
In his mind, he silently repeated a requirement.
[A warm and luxurious place where I can reward my loyal subordinate.]
An ornate wooden door slowly emerged on the wall.
The Room of Requirement.
Draco pushed the door open and entered.
The scene inside had transformed into a warm and luxurious bedroom.
A roaring fire burned in a massive fireplace, thick white carpets covered the floor, and a soft four-poster bed sat in the center of the room.
Hermione Granger stood somewhat awkwardly in front of the fireplace.
Hearing the door open, she immediately turned around, her face carrying a hint of anticipation and nervousness.
"Draco."
Draco walked over and closed the door behind him.
He looked Hermione over, then pulled a magically shrunk parcel from his robes.
The parcel returned to its original size, revealing a set of neatly folded clothes.
"This is your reward."
Draco handed the clothes to Hermione.
"In the mission of 'passing intelligence,' your performance was perfect."
Hermione took the clothes and unfolded them; her cheeks flushed instantly.
It was... a Ravenclaw girl's school uniform.
A blue tie, a robe embroidered with the eagle crest, and a plaid miniskirt.
"Put it on."
Draco's command brooked no refusal.
Hermione bit her lip and, without hesitation, turned and walked into the shadows of the bed curtains.
Soon, the sound of rustling clothes was heard.
When she stepped out again, she had changed into the uniform that did not belong to her.
Her bushy brown hair, paired with the blue representing wisdom, added an intellectual allure to her originally somewhat green temperament.
Especially that short skirt, which perfectly showcased her long, straight legs.
"It looks very good."
Draco stepped forward and embraced her from behind.
Hermione's body stiffened for a moment before she relaxed, leaning submissively into his embrace.
"Come, tell me what Potter and the others have guessed."
Draco led her to sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace, letting her lie in his arms.
Like a docile cat, Hermione adjusted to a comfortable position and began her report.
"They are certain Snape wants to steal the Philosopher's Stone to resurrect Lord Voldemort."
"They also guessed the first layer of defense is Fluffy, that Cerberus."
"Ron said Hagrid accidentally revealed that it can be put to sleep just by using music."
"They are still discussing what the remaining obstacles might be, like Devils Snare, or a giant chessboard..."
Hermione told Draco everything the trio had guessed, in full detail.
This information corresponded exactly with the original plot in Draco's memory.
Everything was going according to his script.
"Well done, my little librarian."
Draco lowered his head and kissed her forehead.
Hermione's body trembled slightly at the kiss.
She tilted her head back, looking into Draco's eyes with obsession.
"Draco, Harry... can he really defeat that person?"
There was a hint of instinctive doubt in her voice regarding Harry's status as 'savior.'
"Defeat?" Draco chuckled softly, his laughter filled with contempt.
"Hermione, you must remember that so-called 'justice' and 'courage' are worthless in the face of absolute power."
"Harry Potter is just a pawn pushed onto the stage by fate, a false hope molded by Dumbledore."
His hand gently stroked Hermione's smooth long hair.
"His recklessness and impulsiveness will only lead him and his friends toward destruction."
"And I will establish a true order."
"An absolute order dominated by power and wisdom."
"Only in this way can we truly... save this decaying wizarding world."
Draco's voice carried a seductive, persuasive power.
Hermione looked at him, her gaze becoming increasingly fanatical.
In her eyes, Draco was no longer just a classmate or a boy.
He was a prophet, a leader, the truth she was willing to sacrifice everything to follow.
She took the initiative to kiss Draco's lips.
The firelight from the hearth cast their intertwined shadows long across the room... [Ding!]
[Through deep interaction with high-potential target 'Hermione Granger,' key intelligence has been obtained and a 'Thought Stamp' has been successfully applied!]
[Bond charging efficiency increased!]
[Congratulations to the Host for obtaining a special talent bonus: Agile Thinking (Beginner)!]
[Agile Thinking (Beginner): Your logical analysis and information processing speed are increased by 20%.]
When Draco left the Room of Requirement, it was already late at night.
He straightened his slightly disheveled collar, feeling quite pleased.
The harvest tonight was substantial.
He walked through the empty eighth-floor corridor, preparing to return to the Slytherin Dungeon.
Just as he rounded a corner, he saw two familiar figures.
Crabbe and Goyle.
His two dim-witted lackeys.
And at their feet, a small, thin figure lay on the ground, motionless.
It was Neville Longbottom.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
Crabbe was using his thick wand to cast the spell on Neville's legs once again.
Neville's body was as stiff as a wooden board; he couldn't even move his fingers.
"Hahaha, look at this useless thing!" Goyle let out a stupid laugh.
They were clearly amusing themselves at Neville's expense.
Draco saw this scene, but his footsteps didn't pause for a second.
His face didn't even show a single extra expression.
Neville Longbottom.
Another Gryffindor fool, a so-called future hero.
But in Draco's eyes, he was just an obstructive stone in the middle of the road.
What was the correct way to deal with an obstructive stone?
Not to go around it.
Nor to move it away.
Expressionless, Draco stepped directly over Neville's stiff body.
Just like stepping over an actual stone.
When Crabbe and Goyle saw Draco, they immediately stopped laughing and bowed their heads respectfully.
"Draco."
Draco ignored them.
He simply continued walking forward coldly, his figure quickly disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.
To him, a character like Neville Longbottom didn't even deserve a second glance.
Chapter 48: The Secret of the invisibility cloak, Analyzing the Hallow
Christmas Eve.
In the Gryffindor Common Room, the fireplace burned bright red.
Harry Potter was animatedly boasting to Ron about what gifts he would receive tomorrow, spittle flying everywhere.
He firmly believed he was just one step away from uncovering Snape's plot.
On the other end, in the dormitory of the Slytherin Dungeon, only the eerie green flames beneath the cauldron danced.
Draco Malfoy's table was covered with alchemy instruments, and an unknown liquid in the pot bubbled with viscous foam.
But his goal tonight wasn't a Potion.
It was that legendary Deathly Hallow, the inheritance of the three Peverell brothers, the work of Death—the invisibility cloak.
Draco knew very well that the cloak would be delivered to Harry Potter tonight as an anonymous gift.
Returned by Dumbledore, it was an heirloom of James Potter.
Steal it? That was the behavior of a fool.
That old fox Dumbledore would notice immediately.
He didn't need to "own" it; he only needed to "touch" it.
To let the system analyze the Death rules attached to that Hallow.
Draco picked up the two-way mirror.
The mirror surface lit up, reflecting Hermione's face.
"Draco."
"Begin," Draco's voice was flat. "Let him use that new toy tonight."
"Where to?" Hermione asked in the mirror.
"The Restricted Section." Draco's lip curled slightly. "Let him 'confirm' the clues about Nicolas Flamel; give him some confidence."
"Understood." Hermione nodded and cut the connection.
The mirror surface went dark.
Draco stood up and tapped his wand lightly on his head.
A high-level Disillusionment Charm made him blend into the surrounding shadows... The midnight bell tolled.
Harry Potter sprang up from his bed.
There was an extra, crudely wrapped gift at the foot of his bed.
He tore open the packaging, and a silvery-grey cloak slid out. The texture of the fabric was strange, like liquid silk.
"What's this?" Ron leaned in.
Harry threw the cloak over himself, and his body vanished into thin air.
Ron's mouth formed an "O" shape.
"An invisibility cloak! It's a real invisibility cloak!"
Harry ran around the dormitory, never tiring of it.
The dormitory door was pushed open, and Hermionepoked her head in.
"Harry, Ron, look!" She held up a thick book, her expression urgent.
"I found a clue about the Philosopher's Stone's defense mechanism, and it's related to a special plant!"
This "discovery" accurately ignited Harry's curiosity.
"I'm going to the Restricted Section to check it out!"
He grabbed the invisibility cloak, put it on, ignored Ron's discouragement, and slipped out of the Common Room.
In the Castle corridors late at night, it was so empty he could hear his own heartbeat.
Wrapped in the invisibility cloak, Harry crouched low, moving cautiously.
This was his first night out.
When he was almost at the Library floor, a familiar set of footsteps and a cat's meow came from around the corner.
Filch!
Harry's mind went blank, and he scrambled into a narrow passage nearby.
The passage ended in a dead wall.
Filch, carrying a lantern and muttering to himself, was walking this way.
Harry pressed against the wall, not daring to breathe.
The light illuminated the mouth of the passage.
Just then.
A hand reached out from the darkness behind him, grabbed the edge of his invisibility cloak, and yanked him back!
"Mmph!"
Harry was pulled into a stumble, falling into a pitch-black empty classroom.
"Shh! It's me!"
Hermione's lowered voice sounded in his ear.
Harry, still shaken, was about to sigh in relief, completely unaware.
At the very moment he was pulled into the classroom and lost his balance.
Chaos was the best cover.
Another hand, completely transparent under a Disillusionment Charm, reached precisely inside the invisibility cloak.
That hand firmly touched the liquid-metal-like fabric of the invisibility cloak.
Time froze.
In Draco's mind, a stream of data refreshed frantically.
[Detected high-level Death Rule item: Peverell's invisibility cloak]
[Contact analysis initiated...]
[Progress: 1%... 3%... 5%...]
[Core magic circuit structure scan... Death divinity residue analysis...]
Draco's fingers stayed on the fabric for less than two seconds.
It was enough.
[Core structure 'Optical Distortion Rune Set' scan complete]
[Core structure 'Presence Weakening Rune Set' scan complete]
[Analysis 7% complete, reached the limit for this session]
[Obtained: Advanced Invisibility Charm Improvement Plan]
[Obtained: Special Alchemy Blueprint—'Veil of Night' (Incomplete)]
Draco silently withdrew his hand and retreated into the deepest shadows of the classroom, as if he had never appeared.
Harry was still panting, and Hermione was "worriedly" patting his back.
"Thank you, Hermione, you saved me again," Harry said gratefully.
Hermione shook her head, her expression managed perfectly.
"It's too dangerous here, Harry, let's go back quickly."
Hiding in the dark, Draco watched this scene quietly.
The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.
Harry Potter, just like your father, you are merely the custodian of this Hallow.
And he would uncover all its secrets and create something even greater... To avoid Filch, Hermione"suggested" passing through several abandoned classrooms and taking another way back.
Harry agreed without thinking much about it.
When he pushed open the door of a dusty classroom, he was stunned.
In the middle of the classroom stood a massive mirror with a golden frame, carved with intricate patterns, nearly reaching the ceiling.
A line of strange, backwards writing was engraved at the top.
Harry subconsciously walked over and stood before the mirror.
The mirror reflected himself, a small, thin boy wearing round glasses.
The next second, the image in the mirror changed.
A tall man appeared behind him, his hand on Harry's shoulder, with the same messy hair.
His father, James Potter.
Then, a gentle red-haired woman appeared on the other side, her green eyes full of love, smiling at him.
His mother, Lily Potter.
In the mirror, the space behind him was filled with people.
Grandparents, maternal grandparents... all the relatives he had never met but shared blood with were smiling, surrounding him.
Harry's eyes reddened.
He reached out, wanting to touch his mother's face in the mirror, but his fingertips only met the cold mirror surface.
He looked at his happy self in the mirror, surrounded by family, and then at his real self, standing alone in the classroom.
A wave of immense sadness and grievance overwhelmed him.
He could no longer hold it together; his body slid down against the mirror to the floor, he buried his face in his knees and let out a stifled sob.
He like an addict who had found spiritual opium, he was completely trapped in this illusory familial love.
Hermione stood at the door, watching this; a flicker of emotion crossed her eyes, but it was quickly wiped away, replaced by absolute rationality.
This was part of Draco's plan.
To let Harry Potter completely expose his deepest inner weakness.
In the shadows on the other side of the classroom, Draco, under the Disillusionment Charm, coldly scrutinized everything.
Harry was like a puppy abandoned by its master, whimpering at a mirror.
Only two words surfaced in Draco's heart: Pathetic.
Family?
A burden for the strong, a shackle for the weak. It only makes people soft and vulnerable.
Harry Potter, as expected, is a hopeless fool.
Just then, all of Draco's muscles tensed.
His perception, enhanced by the Child of Wind talent, captured a ripple of magic silently approaching the classroom.
That magic was restrained to the extreme, yet it still made Draco's skin feel a needle-like numbness.
In all of Hogwarts, only one person could do this.
Albus Dumbledore.
Draco immediately held his breath, using his magic to seal off every trace of his presence, "pressing" himself into the shadows of the corner.
The classroom door was pushed open silently.
Dumbledore walked in, wearing his purple robes embroidered with stars and moons, his gaze immediately locking onto Harry in front of the mirror.
His expression was complex, filled with pity, guilt, and a deeply hidden scrutiny.
Had he discovered the third person in the classroom?
Perhaps he had, and was just pretending not to.
Draco never gambled.
In front of a Wizard like Dumbledore, any reliance on luck was suicide.
He had to leave.
At the very moment Dumbledore focused all his attention on Harry, his lips moving as he prepared to speak.
Draco moved.
Going through the door was a Death wish. His gaze locked onto a half-open window in the corner.
The Child of Wind talent was pushed to its limit.
His body became weightless, sticking to the shadows of the wall; using the faint air current, he slipped through Dumbledore's perceptual blind spot.
His feet landed on the snow outside the Castle, leaving no trace.
Only then did Draco slowly exhale the breath he had been holding for a long time.
Success.
He looked back at the classroom window.
Dumbledore, we meet again.
Last time, it was in his dream, before his throne in the mirror of erised.
This time, it was in reality.
You are still patching up your "savior" plan everywhere.
Returning to the Slytherin Dungeon, Draco cancelled the Disillusionment Charm.
He began to review tonight's actions.
Analyzed the invisibility cloak, core technology obtained.
Confirmed Harry's greatest weakness was that laughable familial love.
Tested Dumbledore's perceptual limits and successfully escaped.
The harvest was immense.
He walked to the window and watched the falling snowflakes; time had already passed midnight.
Christmas had arrived.
Draco turned and looked at the head of his bed.
There were also some gifts piled there. Broom maintenance tools from Pansy, candy boxes from Crabbeand Goyle.
He didn't even bother to look.
His gaze only fell on the package just delivered by a House-elf.
Deep green wrapping paper, no signature.
Lucius Malfoy had used the family's influence to intercept and send him this... Christmas gift.
Chapter 49: Draco: Hagrid, You Really Are My Great Assist!
Christmas morning.
In the Slytherin Dungeon, the damp cold from the lake seeped into the marrow.
Draco Malfoy opened his eyes; the dormitory was empty.
Presents were piled like a mountain at the foot of his bed.
The 'nimbus 2001' maintenance kit from Pansy; the handwriting on the card betrayed a sense of impatience.
Daphne's gift, 'Analysis of Rare Ancient Runes,' with a dragon-hide cover—an out-of-print item on the market.
His gaze swept over them without lingering for a moment.
He was waiting for something else.
A House-elf appeared silently, presenting a package without any signature.
This was it.
With a wave of his wand, Draco caused the knots to untie themselves.
Inside the black ebony box lay two items.
A dark iron ring with a dark green gemstone face, black mist swirling inside.
The ring was imbued with an almost invisible Dark Artsseal.
Beside it was a crystal vial containing half a bottle of dark red, viscous liquid.
[Ding!]
[Detected high-level magical item: Protection Ring of the House of Malfoy.]
[Item Attributes: Defensive artifact, built-in spatial beacon (Portkey), comes with Dark magic corruption.]
[Detected rare alchemical material: Heart's Blood of an Armored Lesser Dragon.]
[Perform devour and analysis on the above items?]
[Devouring 'Protection Ring' has a 30% chance to extract 'Spatial Mark' talent and a 70% chance to gain a large amount of magic feedback.]
[Devouring 'Lesser Dragon Heart's Blood' has a 90% chance to extract 'Dragon's Might (Elementary)' trait.]
Draco's fingertips brushed against the ring; it was cold and hard.
Devour?
Probability is a gamble for the weak; physical objects are the authority of the strong.
This ring was a token of the Malfoy Head of House, a Portkey that could transport him back to the manor's secret chamber at any time.
His father had sent it, and his attitude was clear.
All his actions at Hogwarts had the family's tacit approval, even encouragement.
The phrase 'enjoy your holidays to the fullest' in the letter now held another layer of meaning.
"Hold for now."
Draco commanded the system.
He picked up the ring and slipped it onto his left index finger.
The band automatically constricted, fitting perfectly.
A cold surge of magic tunneled through his knuckle into his body, swirling and merging with his own magic before eventually settling.
There was a slight increase in his total magic capacity.
More importantly, a sense of control born of blood connection arose spontaneously.
He could activate the ring at any time to return to Malfoy Manor.
This was his trump card, and his source of confidence.
[Ding!]
[Side Quest Triggered: Glory of the Family.]
[Quest Description: The glory of the House of Malfoymust not be defiled. A true noble should establish their own order. Please establish a ruling class centered around yourself at Hogwarts.]
Ruling class.
Draco looked at the ring on his finger; the black mist in the gemstone swirled faster.
This quest was very much to his taste.
The wizarding world's talk of pure-blood glory was nothing more than a joke for the declining to huddle together for warmth.
True glory only stems from absolute power and authority.
What he wanted wasn't just to maintain the Malfoystatus.
But to have the entire wizarding world grovel beneath the name 'Malfoy'.
Draco stood up, straightened his dressing gown, and pushed open the door.
In the corridor, Crabbe and Goyle emerged from their room, yawning.
Seeing Draco, the two immediately stood up straight, their faces plastered with stupid grins.
"Draco, Merry Christmas!" Goyle said, his mouth stuffed with cake, his speech muffled.
Crabbe was fiddling with a toy wand that hiccuped.
Draco's gaze swept over them as if looking at two pieces of obstructive furniture.
He had just been conceptualizing how to establish his own ruling class and thinking about the future order of the wizarding world.
Yet his followers were acting like fools over a piece of cake and a toy.
He suddenly understood the look in the eyes of the monarchs in those portraits.
In their world, there were no equals.
Only subordinates and enemies.
"Clean yourselves up. We're going to the Great Hall."
Draco's voice was devoid of emotion as he walked between the two without looking back.
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a look and hurried to follow... The Hogwarts Great Hall for the Christmas lunch was noisier than usual.
The enchanted ceiling spilled golden sunlight, and the four long tables were piled high with food.
At the corner of the Gryffindor table.
Harry Potter was excitedly showing off the emerald green sweater he was wearing, which had a large letter 'H' on the chest.
"Look, Ron! Mrs. Weasley sent me a sweater too!"
"I have one too!" Ron pointed to the dark red one he was wearing, with an 'R' on the chest.
"My mum knits them every year. The color is a bit... but it's very warm."
As he spoke, he unconsciously tugged at the dull-colored hem of his clothing.
But for Harry, receiving a gift from family for the first time, this sweater was the most precious treasure.
He was immersed in this unfamiliar warmth, not noticing the commotion at the entrance of the Great Hall.
Draco Malfoy entered, leading the Slytherin students.
He wore a well-tailored black velvet robe, with silver-threaded snake patterns faintly visible at the cuffs.
Pansy and the others following behind him were also dressed in sophisticated new robes.
Their appearance caused the noise in the Great Hall to subside.
Draco didn't head toward the Slytherin table; instead, he walked straight toward the Gryffindors.
His leather shoes stepped onto the marble without making a sound.
Finally, he stopped beside Ron Weasley.
The students nearby put down their cutlery, waiting for the show.
Draco's gaze landed on Ron's dark red sweater.
He didn't speak, just tilted his head, his eyes evaluating it like an object's worth.
Ron's cheeks burned under his gaze, and his neck turned red.
"What are you looking at! Haven't you seen a weasley family heirloom sweater before?" He stuck out his neck, trying to hide his embarrassment with defiance.
"A weasley family heirloom?"
Draco finally spoke, his voice not loud, yet clearly heard by everyone around.
He said in an almost clinical tone:
"I'm just curious; this color... is quite special."
"It reminds me of moldy sausages left in the Dungeonsfor too long."
"Pfft—"
Pansy Parkinson was the first to burst out laughing.
The Slytherin table immediately erupted into a roar of laughter.
Students from other houses began whispering, some stifling laughs.
Ron's face turned from red to green, then to a deep purple.
"You... you're lying!" He slammed the table and stood up, his fists clenching audibly. "You bastard! Say that again if you dare!"
Harry also stood up, shielding Ron.
"Malfoy! Apologize to Ron!"
Draco's gaze bypassed Harry's shoulder, still fixed on Ron's sweater.
"Apologize?"
He let out a soft chuckle, devoid of any warmth.
"Potter, you've got one thing wrong."
"I am merely stating facts."
His gaze shifted to Harry's face, with a condescending scrutiny.
"Weasley's anger stems from inferiority. He knows this garment represents poverty."
"And your joy stems from ignorance. Because you've never even experienced such cheap warmth."
Harry felt his mind go blank, his limbs turning cold.
Malfoy's words tore open his deepest desires and insecurities, exposing them to everyone.
"One inferior, one ignorant."
"The two of you are indeed a perfect match."
Ron shook with rage, drawing his wand and pointing it at Draco.
"Stop it, Mr. Weasley!" Professor McGonagall's voice came from afar.
But Draco didn't care.
He looked at Ron and delivered the final blow with slow deliberation.
"Honestly, Weasley."
"In my house, the rags the House-elves use to scrub the floors are more decent than your 'heirloom sweater'."
Ron's anger, like a punctured balloon, deflated instantly.
He froze in place, the hand holding the wand dropping, all color drained from his face.
The chasm known as social class was laid bare before everyone.
Draco watched their despondent states with absolute indifference.
[Ding!]
[Host's words and actions match the style of a top-tier villain. Successfully dealt a mental critical hit to the Child of Destiny.]
['Villainous Style' points +100.]
Objective achieved.
He turned around, and the Slytherin crowd thronged around him as they headed to their table.
Where he walked, students automatically cleared a path for him.
Draco sat at the head of the Slytherin table, and Pansyimmediately filled his cup with Pumpkin Juice.
He raised his goblet, his eyes scanning across the noisy crowd, precisely locking onto a gaze.
At the staff table, Albus Dumbledore.
In the old man's blue eyes, the usual gentleness had vanished, replaced only by scrutiny and inquiry.
Draco did not look away.
He raised his goblet, offering a distant toast to Dumbledore across the Great Hall.
On his face was a perfect aristocratic smile.
Beneath the smile was unmasked provocation.
Chapter 50: The Mad Girl in the Snow, The Secret of the Thestrals
At night, the cold wind howled.
Avoiding Filch and his cat, Draco came alone to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The Christmas revelry in the Castle had nothing to do with him.
That cheap happiness would only numb the nerves of the weak.
He wasn't there for a night stroll, but to keep an appointment only he knew about.
The snow shone with a cold silver glow under the moonlight, and a trail of small footprints extended deep into the Forbidden Forest.
Draco followed the footprints.
Under a giant oak tree, he saw that figure.
Luna Lovegood.
The Ravenclaw whom everyone called 'Loony'.
She wore a thin nightgown, her small white feet bare against the icy snow, yet she seemed not to feel the cold at all.
Her long, pale-blonde hair was like a waterfall condensed from moonlight, draped behind her.
At this moment, she was holding up her hands, as if stroking the air.
In the eyes of ordinary people, this was undoubtedly a sign of madness.
But in Draco's vision, the scene was entirely different.
The [Spiritual Sight] talent activated.
He saw them.
Surrounding Luna were several skeletal, black winged horses.
They had bat-like wings, heads like dragons, and pupilless white eyes that were hollow.
Thestrals.
Creatures that can only be seen by those who have witnessed death firsthand.
They lowered their heads submissively, allowing Luna's hands to stroke their bony backs and necks.
Draco approached quietly.
The Thestrals sensed his arrival, flapping their wings uneasily and letting out hoarse cries.
"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid."
Luna soothed them softly, then turned her head to look at Draco.
Her silver-grey eyes seemed covered in a thin mist, hazy yet appearing to see through everything.
"They don't like the scent of strangers," Luna's voice was ethereal, as if coming from a distant place.
"But they aren't afraid of you."
Draco walked to her side and unwound the cashmere scarf from his neck.
The scarf still carried his body heat.
He leaned down and gently tied the soft scarf around Luna's slender neck.
[Ding!]
[Physical contact with high-potential target 'Luna Lovegood', Bond charging...]
[Current Bond Level: Friendly.]
[Obtained random reward: Spell 'Whispering' proficiency +10%.]
Luna didn't dodge; she just looked up at Draco curiously.
The warm sensation from her neck made her narrow her eyes comfortably, like a cat being stroked.
"Thank you, Draco," she said softly. "Your scarf smells like the sun."
Draco didn't speak, just stood side-by-side with her, watching the mysterious Thestrals.
In this world, perhaps only Luna could allow his tense nerves to relax for a moment.
She wasn't like Hermione, driven by a desire to conquer.
Nor was she like Pansy, full of fanatical possessiveness.
She was like the air, like the moonlight—pure, clean, and unbound by any worldly rules.
"They are crying."
Luna suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.
"Why?" Draco asked.
"Because in the forest, two souls are fighting."
Luna pointed deep into the Forbidden Forest, her voice tinged with confusion.
"One is very weak, like a candle about to go out."
"The other... is very painful, very angry, like a black fire trapped in a bottle."
"They are parasitic together, making the surrounding trees feel sad."
A wave of realization surged in Draco's heart.
Two souls fighting?
One weak, one painful?
Isn't that... Quirrell and the remnant soul of Lord Voldemort attached to the back of his head!
Luna's 'mad talk' had once again accurately revealed a shocking secret.
Behind her seemingly crazed words and actions lay a sharp intuition that transcended common sense and reached the essence of things.
"The black fire will burn the candle out," Luna continued, tilting her head.
"When that time comes, it will look for a new 'bottle'."
Draco's thoughts spun rapidly.
Voldemort's soul was consuming Quirrell's life force.
When Quirrell's life was exhausted, Voldemort would need a new host.
In the original story, he fled back to the forests of Albania after failing.
But now... Draco glanced at the girl beside him, pure as an elf.
He would never let that filthy thing have any chance to get near her.
[Ding!]
[Through soul resonance with high-potential target 'Luna Lovegood', Bond Level increased!]
[Current Bond Level: Trust.]
[Congratulations Host, you have obtained a special passive skill: Intuitive Evasion (Beginner)!]
[Intuitive Evasion (Beginner): When encountering a malicious attack or curse targeted at yourself, there is a 10% probability of perceiving it in advance and automatically evading.]
This skill!
Draco's eyes lit up.
This was practically a divine skill!
In wizarding combat, victory or defeat is often decided in an instant. Being able to perceive an attack in advance meant he would always hold the initiative!
Luna was indeed his treasure.
The two of them stood quietly in the snow for a long time.
Draco enjoyed this rare tranquility, as if all the clamor of the world were shut out.
Just as he was about to say goodbye.
Luna suddenly turned her head, her silver-grey eyes staring straight at the pocket of Draco's robes.
In Draco's pocket was the bottle of Sub-Dragon Blood he had received from his father.
Luna's nose twitched slightly, and then in a dreamlike tone, she whispered:
"It's waiting for you."
"That little fire-breathing fellow."
"It's coming out of its egg very soon."
Draco's body froze.
A little fire-breathing fellow?
Coming out of an egg?
He instantly understood what Luna was talking about.
Hagrid!
That dragon egg that was about to be obtained!
Luna's prophecy shocked him once again.
This girl—just how much of the world could she see?
Looking at Luna's pure and flawless face, Draco felt a desire called 'protection' arise in his heart for the first time.
Such a treasure should not be tainted by the filth of the world.
He would hide her in the safest place, a place that belonged only to him.
Chapter 51: The Express Train, Inspection of the Prefect's Carriage
The holiday ended amidst noise and calculations.
The Hogwarts Express sped through a heavy snowfall.
The carriages were filled with the chatter of students sharing boring holiday stories.
Draco had zero interest in this.
Using his status as a Slytherin prefect, he commandeered a private compartment at the end of the train.
Crabbe and Goyle stood guard at the door like two walls of flesh, allowing no one to approach.
Inside the compartment, the wall lamps cast a dim, yellow light.
Draco leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed.
The compartment door was pushed open softly, then quickly closed, the lock clicking shut.
Hermione Granger walked in.
She took off her thick cloak, revealing her Gryffindoruniform. After a few days apart, she looked thinner, but her amber eyes were startlingly bright.
The moment she saw Draco, her eyes lit up.
Without a word, Draco opened his eyes and reached out his hand to her.
Hermione walked over submissively, placing her hand in his palm.
With a forceful pull, she tumbled into his embrace.
In the next second, Draco stood up holding her and pinned her against the cold window.
"Ah..."
Hermione let out a short gasp.
The freezing glass pressed against her back while Draco's burning chest was in front of her; the contrast in temperature made her tremble.
Outside, the snowy scenery receded rapidly, but the temperature inside the carriage was rising.
"Did you miss me?"
Draco's voice was low and husky against her ear.
"Yes..."
Hermione's voice shook, her cheeks already flushed deep red.
Draco didn't give her another chance to speak; he pinched her chin, lowered his head, and silenced her with a kiss.
This kiss wasn't gentle; it was full of plunder and possession.
From her initial panic, Hermione slowly began to respond until she was completely submerged.
She clung to him like someone parched, desperately drawing in the scent that put her at ease.
The snowy view outside blurred as a thin layer of white mist soon covered the window.
Draco's hand slid under the hem of her shirt, stroking up her smooth spine, the touch of his fingertips making her body quiver.
His lips brushed against her earlobe as he moved, whispering:
"How was Harry Potter during the holiday?"
Hermione's breathing was ragged as she tried to steady her heartbeat, reporting intermittently:
"He... he didn't go back to that classroom afterward..."
"Dumbledore talked to him... after that, he's been very depressed..."
"He stays in the dormitory all day, staring blankly at that invisibility cloak... No matter how Ron tries to persuade him, it's useless..."
"He's dazed, like he's lost his soul."
Listening, Draco's lips curled into a cold arc.
Fool.
A mere phantom of false affection could break him so easily; what a pathetic savior.
However, this was all within expectations.
The harder the strike, the more violent the rebound.
"Well done."
Draco gave his approval and then deepened the kiss as a reward.
After a long while, they parted.
Hermione leaned limply in his arms, gasping for air, her legs barely able to support her.
Her face was flushed with satisfaction, her gaze hazy.
"Draco... what do we do next..."
"A chess piece that stays in place is useless."
Draco's fingers twirled her soft long hair, his voice commanding.
"After we get back, make him 'cheer up'."
"Cheer up?" Hermione was puzzled.
"Yes, in your own way," Draco said, his eyes glinting with calculation.
"Go provoke him, ignite his self-esteem, drag him out of that pathetic depression, and reignite his desire for the Philosopher's Stone."
"Make him believe that only by finding Nicolas Flameland stopping Snape can he prove himself and honor his dead parents."
Draco's last sentence was as soft as a breath, yet bone-chillingly cold.
"Make him... continue to walk toward his death."
Hermione's heart tightened for a moment, but she didn't hesitate.
In her world, Draco's will was everything.
Harry Potter?
That so-called 'friend' was nothing more than a sacrifice she was offering to her King.
"I understand."
Hermione nodded firmly.
Draco looked at her with satisfaction; this was the perfect tool he had trained.
He helped her straighten her messy collar and hair, then gave her a light peck on the lips.
"Go now, return to your friends."
Hermione gave him a lingering look, unlocked the door, and walked away quickly.
Draco leaned back in his seat again, wearing the cold smile of a chess player.
Crying is for the weak.
A chess piece belongs on the board.
Not hiding in front of a mirror, reminiscing about a non-existent past.
The train let out a long whistle, and the silhouette of Hogwarts Castle appeared in the wind and snow.
---
Back at Hogwarts, the air remained damp and cold.
In the Gryffindor Common Room, the fireplace blazed brightly, but it couldn't dispel the gloom hanging over certain people.
Harry Potter was curled up in an armchair by the fire, clutching the silvery-grey invisibility cloak tightly, staring vacantly at the flames.
Ron sat nearby, at a loss.
"Harry, talk to me, say something."
"How about a game of wizards chess? I'll let you win."
No matter what Ron said, Harry acted as if he hadn't heard, remaining motionless.
His soul seemed still trapped within that damned Mirror of Erised.
Just then, Hermione came down from the girls' dormitory.
Seeing Harry in this state, her brow furrowed.
She didn't act cautiously like Ron; instead, she strode over and snatched the invisibility cloak from his arms!
"Hermione! What are you doing!"
Harry sprang from his chair as if his tail had been stepped on, glaring at her in anger.
Ron was also startled and quickly stood up.
"Hermione, don't be like that, Harry's feeling miserable..."
Ignoring Ron, Hermione held the invisibility cloak and looked Harry straight in the eye, questioning him loudly in a tone of extreme disappointment:
"Miserable? Harry Potter, what right do you have to be miserable here?"
Her voice was crisp and stern. The entire Common Roomfell silent, and everyone looked over.
"Do you think that by clutching this cloak, your parents can come back?"
"Do you think that by wallowing in self-pity all day, you can change anything?"
"Give it back!" Harry rushed forward to grab it, but Hermione nimbly dodged him.
"Look at yourself now!"
Hermione held up the invisibility cloak, her voice rising even higher.
"Cowardly! Depressed! Self-destructive!"
"If your parents' spirits are watching and see the son they gave their lives to save looking like this, how disappointed they would be! How ashamed!"
"They would think it would have been better if you had died with them back then! It would save you from making a fool of yourself here!"
"Shut up!"
Harry let out a roar, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot.
"Don't you dare talk about them like that!"
Hermione's words were too poisonous; every word stabbed into the softest part of Harry's heart.
His self-esteem, his pride, and his little vanity as the The Boy Who Lived were torn to shreds.
"Why can't I say it?"
Hermione took a step forward, staring him down with a terrifying aura.
Ron stood by, dumbfounded; he had never seen Hermione like this.
"Am I wrong? Snape is about to steal the Philosopher's Stone! He's going to use it to resurrect the killer who murdered your parents!"
"And you? You, the so-called savior, are here acting as if life isn't worth living over a non-existent phantom!"
"Harry Potter, you've disappointed me so much!"
"You don't deserve to be a Gryffindor! You don't deserve to be James and Lily's son!"
Having said that, Hermione slammed the invisibility cloakhard against Harry's face.
Then, without looking back, she walked up the stairs and disappeared into the entrance of the girls' dormitory.
A deathly silence filled the Common Room.
Everyone was stunned by this scathing rebuke.
Harry stood frozen in place, the cold sensation of the fabric still on his face.
Shame, anger, and resentment surged in his chest.
Hermione's words were harsh, but every word hit home.
Yeah, what am I doing?
My parents gave their lives for me to live, not for me to cry in front of a mirror.
I am Harry Potter!
I am going to avenge them!
"I... I..."
Harry's voice shook as he picked up the invisibility cloakfrom the floor, clutching it tightly.
His vacant, lost gaze gradually became firm, finally igniting with fire.
"Hermione is right."
He looked up at Ron, his voice raspy but full of strength.
"I can't go on like this."
"We must find Nicolas Flamel! We must stop Snape!"
"I'll show him that I'm not a coward who only knows how to cry!"
Ron looked at the 'resurrected' Harry, his mouth hanging open, unable to speak.
He felt something was off, but seeing his friend cheer up again made him genuinely happy.
"That's great, Harry! We'll do it together!"
Far away in the Slytherin Dungeon.
Draco watched the entire scene through the two-way mirror.
Every expression and line from Hermione had landed precisely on the points he had preset.
Her acting was quite good.
He gave Hermione's performance a perfect score.
[Ding!]
[Key plot correction successful!]
[The Son of the Plane 'Harry Potter' has returned to the main storyline.]
[Reward to Host: Bonded character 'Hermione Granger's' acting talent has been upgraded.]
Draco turned off the two-way mirror.
Excellent.
This strong medicine had an outstanding effect.
Now, this enraged little lion would rush headlong into the next trap he had prepared.
Harry Potter pulled Ron along, wanting to go to the Library immediately.
He swore that this time, he would turn the Library upside down to find "Nicolas Flamel"!
He didn't know.
All the "clues" he was about to find in the Library...
...were carefully screened and intentionally left for him by Draco.
Just a few breadcrumbs.
Chapter 52: As Everyone Knows, Neville is a Walking Plot Trigger
In the Library, the smell of old parchment and dust made one want to sneeze.
Harry and Ron were weaving back and forth between rows of bookshelves that reached the ceiling, nearly going mad.
"'A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry'... not here!"
"'Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century'... damn, not here either!"
"'Notable Magical Names of Our Time'... this is full of headshots, still nothing!"
They had nearly rubbed the spines of the books bald, but the name "Nicolas Flamel" was like a ghost, simply non-existent.
Harry's newly ignited fighting spirit was about to be ground down by these endless bookshelves.
"Could Hermione have been mistaken?" Ron slumped onto a chair, completely drained of energy.
"Or maybe that book was just nonsense?"
"Impossible!" Harry ran a hand through his hair, which was already a bird's nest of a mess.
"Hermione wouldn't be wrong; the clue must be here!"
The two were staring at each other when a thin, small figure carrying a stack of books taller than himself wobbled past.
It was Neville Longbottom.
He tripped over something, gave a cry of alarm, and tumbled straight forward.
"Clang— Crash—"
The books in his arms slammed into the ground with a terrifyingly loud noise.
Worse still, the snacks in his pockets all flew out.
Several chocolate frogs were hopping around on the floor, and a pile of colorful Wizard Cards were scattered everywhere.
"Oh, sorry, sorry!" Neville scrambled on the floor to pick them up, his face flushed bright red.
"What an idiot," Ron muttered under his breath.
Harry didn't bother to respond, preparing to step around the mess.
He had just lifted his foot when his gaze was pinned to a card on the ground.
On the card, an old man with long silver-white hair and a beard, wearing half-moon spectacles, was smiling gently at him.
Albus Dumbledore.
Harry had this card himself and had long ago memorized the text on the back.
But this time, as if possessed, he bent down and picked it up. When he saw the small print on the back of the card, he froze.
[Albus Dumbledore, current Hogwarts Principal...]
[Widely known contributions include: the 1945 defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald, and the discovery of the twelve uses of dragons blood.]
[As well as his work on Alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel...]
Nicolas Flamel!
That name!
The name they had been searching for for nearly a century was actually hidden on the back of a common chocolate frog card!
"Ron! Ron! Look!"
Harry's voice cracked with excitement. He grabbed Ron's arm and shook it violently.
"I found it! I fucking found it!"
Ron leaned his head over, and the moment he saw the name, his mouth hung open wide enough to fit an egg.
"Merlin's beard... we... we flipped through hundreds of books heavy enough to crush someone, and the answer... the answer was here?"
All the clues suddenly clicked into place!
Dumbledore is Nicolas Flamel's partner!
So Dumbledore went to Gringotts to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone!
So he hid the Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts!
Cerberus, Snape, the forbidden corridor... everything lined up!
"We really are two idiots!" Ron slapped his thigh in frustration.
"Quick! Go find Hermione!" Harry gripped the card tightly like a lifeline, pulling Ron along as they rushed out.
They ran so fast they even forgot to say thank you to Neville, who was still picking up books on the floor.
Neville watched their ecstatic figures depart and scratched his head in confusion.
He didn't know that his inadvertent fall had provided the most crucial key to savior's adventure.
He could never have known.
That what had tripped him just now was an invisible tripwire jinx quietly extended by Draco from around the corner of the corridor... Meanwhile.
Hogwarts, eighth floor, Room of Requirement.
The room had transformed into a spacious Alchemylaboratory.
Draco Malfoy stood before a stone table, pen in one hand, flipping through 'The Light of Alchemy' with the other.
On the parchment in front of him, a corner of a complex transmutation circle had already been drawn.
This was a low-level rune set meant to replicate the 'material transformation' function of the Philosopher's Stone.
With his current abilities, creating a Philosopher's Stonewas pure fantasy.
But merely analyzing these ancient runes was enough to rapidly improve his magic control ability.
He stopped his pen, looked up at the empty space ahead, and curled his lips.
Plan successful.
Harry Potter had received the "truth" he had provided.
A chocolate frog card.
What a wonderful arrangement.
To let the so-called "savior," when he was at his wits' end, find the answer in the most foolish way.
Those idiots would take it as a revelation of fate, savior's luck.
Now, I'm the one writing the script.
Draco blew out the candle.
The laboratory fell into darkness.
Only his platinum blond eyes flashed with a cold and excited light in the dark.
"The actors are all in position."
"So, the number one villain on the stage..."
"Should also make an appearance to give them some pressure."
...The next Quidditch match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.
When the news arrived, there was a chorus of wails in the Gryffindor Common Room.
"What? Snape is the referee?"
Captain Oliver Wood's voice cracked. "He'll be biased beyond belief! How are we supposed to play this match!"
Fred and George Weasley also had dark expressions.
"Snape as referee? We might as well just surrender."
"He'll definitely find a way to knock Harry off his broom."
Harry Potter sat in the corner, his face pale.
Snape was going to be the referee.
He wanted to act in front of everyone and disguise it as an accident.
"He wants to kill me during the match!" Harry said to Ronand Hermione, his voice trembling.
"We have to do something!" Ron was as anxious as an ant on a hot griddle.
Hermione furrowed her brows and said nothing.
But in the Slytherin Dungeons, the atmosphere was quite the opposite.
Draco had gathered all the team members.
"Next match, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff."
He leaned against the fireplace, tossing a Golden Snitch in his hand.
"What does that have to do with us?" the Beater, Bole, asked in confusion.
"Of course it has something to do with us."
Draco's gaze swept across everyone's faces.
"I don't want you to go and cheer for Hufflepuff; that's too stupid."
"I want you to 'entertain' our savior, Harry Potter, during the match."
His voice was very light, yet no one dared to question him.
"Directly attacking will get you sent off; that's what idiots do."
"You just need to... give him a little'surprise' while he's chasing the Snitch."
"For example, accidentally fly into his flight path."
"Or, let a bludger 'happen' to fly past his ear."
"Do you understand what I mean?"
A graceful yet cruel smile curled at the corner of Draco's mouth.
The team members looked at each other, all wearing sinister grins.
They had been annoyed with Harry Potter for a long time.
The day of the match.
The sky was gloomy, and the cold wind bit at their faces like knives.
The stands were packed with people.
Snape, wearing his black robes, circled above the pitch on a broom, his expression gloomier than the weather.
The Gryffindor stands immediately erupted into thunderous boos.
Draco sat leisurely in the best seat in the Slytherinstands.
Beside him sat an "invisible man."
—This was an idea Draco had given Ron through Hermione.
"Snape will definitely move against Harry. You have to keep an eye on him from as close as possible. If he starts casting a spell, you use a jinx to counter-attack."
Naive Ron believed it. Wearing Harry's invisibility cloak, he hid nervously beside Draco, his eyes dead-locked on Snape on the pitch.
Draco's real purpose, of course, was to provoke Ron.
The match began.
Harry rode his Nimbus 2000, darting through the air, searching for the Golden Snitch.
Snape's officiating was indeed devoid of any fairness.
If a Gryffindor player even touched an opponent, it was a foul and a penalty shot.
When Hufflepuff players engaged in brutal collisions, he was conveniently blind.
From the Gryffindor stands, an uproar of curses filled the air.
"Hey, Weasley."
Draco spoke as if to himself, "Look at your friend, darting around like a headless fly."
The invisible Ron clenched his fists until they cracked, but said nothing.
"And your Captain Wood, he's let in three goals already. I think he should rename himself'Sieve'."
Draco's tone was light, filled with nothing but contempt.
Ron's breathing became heavy.
Just then, Harry spotted the Snitch!
The little golden ball flashed past the Hufflepuffgoalposts.
Harry accelerated suddenly, charging forward like a streak of red lightning.
The Hufflepuff Seeker also spotted it and gave chase relentlessly.
Everyone in the stands stood up.
A sharp light flashed in Draco's eyes.
He raised his hand, unhurriedly adjusting his collar.
The [Child of Wind] talent activated.
An imperceptible air current blew precisely toward the Snitch.
The Snitch's trajectory underwent a tiny deflection.
Harry didn't notice and still reached out according to his predicted path.
"Just a little more!" the invisible Ron growled excitedly.
Looking at Harry's desperate efforts, the mockery at the corner of Draco's mouth deepened.
"How pathetic. His strings are being pulled by someone else, yet he thinks he's the one flying."
"What did you say!" Ron finally exploded, roaring in a low voice.
"I said, he's about to fall flat on his face," Draco said flatly.
Harry's fingers were about to touch the Snitch.
Draco's finger gave a light flick in the air.
No wand, no incantation.
"Snap!"
A crisp sound.
A balancing tail-twig at the end of the Nimbus 2000broke!
The Nimbus 2000 went completely out of control!
Harry let out a short scream, his entire body swaying violently in the air. The broom, uncontrolled, turned headfirst and went plunging straight toward the ground!
"Harry!"
"Heavens!"
The whole crowd gasped.
Everyone looked at Snape, thinking he was the one casting a spell!
The invisible Ron was scared out of his wits. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the distant Snape.
"Incendio!"
A small cluster of flames sprouted from the hem of Snape's robes.
But Draco no longer cared about any of that.
He watched that figure struggling miserably in the air, finally slamming heavily onto the grass, motionless.
An indescribable thrill welled up in his heart.
Potter, do you see?
Your courage and luck are nothing before me.
With a flick of my finger, you'll fall from the sky into the mud.
Chapter 53 Snape: I'm Acting. Quirrell: Me Too.
The Quidditch match finally ended in complete chaos.
Harry caught the Golden Snitch with his mouth, securing the victory for Gryffindor, though the cost was a nasty fall that landed him in the Hospital Wing.
The entire Gryffindor House was celebrating; everyone believed Hermione's fire spell had forced Snape back and saved Harry.
No one knew that the person who had actually cursed Harry's broom was someone else entirely.
After the match.
Harry left the Hospital Wing, his heart racing at the mere thought of Snape's gloomy face.
He was preparing to return to the dormitory when he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye.
Snape was alone, slipping into the Forbidden Forest in a great hurry.
A thought popped into Harry's head: Follow him! See what on earth he's up to!
Harry immediately ran back to the dormitory, grabbed his invisibility cloak, threw it over himself, and followed stealthily.
He thought he was undetected.
Just as he stepped out of the Castle gates.
Deep within the Slytherin Dungeon, ink suddenly began to surface on a blank piece of parchment on Draco's desk.
On the map, a dot labeled 'Harry Potter' was flashing with a piercing red light.
Draco watched the map as the dot representing Harryclumsily followed the dot representing Snape, plunging headlong into the Forbidden Forest.
The corners of his lips curled slightly.
"A fool who never learns."
Draco didn't take an invisibility cloak.
In front of Dumbledore or Snape, such a thing was little different from a sheet of transparent plastic.
He drew his wand and cast a high-level Disillusionment Charm on himself.
The surrounding light and shadows distorted for a moment, and his figure completely merged with the environment.
He rose leisurely and also headed toward the Forbidden Forest, trailing the group silently like a true ghost at the very end.
The light was dim in the Forbidden Forest, and dry branches and fallen leaves made faint crunching sounds underfoot.
Harry wrapped his invisibility cloak tight and hid behind a thick oak tree, his heart pounding wildly.
In a clearing not far away, Snape stood there, his black robes billowing in the night wind.
Opposite him stood a shivering figure.
It was Professor Quirrell.
"We... we'll talk another time, Severus..." Quirrellstammered, trying to turn and slip away.
"We'll talk now."
Snape stepped forward, blocking his path, his voice devoid of any warmth.
"To whom does your loyalty truly lie?"
"I... I don't understand what you mean..." Quirrell's eyes flickered, not daring to look him in the eye.
"You are far too unskilled at lying, Quirrell," Snape said, staring him down.
"I don't care what game you're playing, stay away from that thing! It's not for you to touch!"
Behind the tree, Harry's heart hammered in shock.
Snape was interrogating Quirrell! He really did want to keep the Philosopher's Stone for himself!
And behind another tree even further away.
Under the cover of the Disillusionment Charm, Dracowatched this farce with indifference.
He took a small stud earring from his pocket and gently put it on.
[System Product: High-Fidelity Recording Earring. Automatically filters background noise and locks onto target sound sources.]
He tapped the earring with his fingertip, recording every single word of Snape and Quirrell's conversation.
All of this would later serve as "ironclad evidence" to be submitted to the Ministry of Magic.
However, Draco's attention was not on Snape's threats.
His gaze passed through the two of them and locked onto the back of Quirrell's head.
There, it was wrapped in a large purple turban.
In the System's vision, beneath that turban was a shocking patch of pitch-black.
An evil, chaotic energy was perched on the back of his head, constantly devouring what little remained of Quirrell's life force.
The remnant soul of Lord Voldemort.
[Energy Scan: Target Quirinus Quirrell.]
[Life Force: Extremely weak.]
[Abnormal State: High-concentration parasitic Dark Artsenergy aggregate detected. Confirmed as a remnant soul fragment.]
Under the System scan, Quirrell's body was already riddled with holes, his flame of life so weak it could be extinguished at any moment.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about..."
Quirrell was still pleading, his body shaking violently.
Snape lost his patience, gave a cold snort, cast a look of disgust at him, and then swept away, his black robes cutting an arc through the air.
Only Quirrell remained in the clearing.
His trembling back looked exceptionally pitiful in the dim forest.
Seeing Snape leave, Harry also quietly retreated, his mind filled with the excitement of having stumbled upon a massive conspiracy.
Only Draco remained where he was.
He looked at Quirrell as if sizing up a tool that was about to be scrapped.
A poor wretch possessed by the Dark Lord.
A walking, highly unstable source of Dark Arts energy.
Draco's mind calculated rapidly.
Should he let him continue to fight with Snape like dogs to muddy the waters?
Or... find an opportunity to let him detonate early, blowing an irreparable hole in Dumbledore's "perfect plan"?
Draco put away the recording earring, turned, and vanished silently into the shadows of the forest.
Tonight's harvest far exceeded expectations... In the following days, Hogwarts fell into a strange sort of calm.
After "discovering" the truth about Nicolas Flamel, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were completely convinced that Snape was the mastermind.
The trio was like a group of nervous gophers, acting suspiciously all day as they monitored Snape, trying to catch evidence of him stealing the Philosopher's Stone.
All their actions were like a clumsy stage play, every step precisely following the script Draco had written.
All the clues regarding the Philosopher's Stone's defensive obstacles were clearly laid out before them through various "accidents" or "coincidences."
For instance, Hermione "accidentally" found an ancient book in the Library that introduced the weaknesses of a Cerberus.
Or for instance, Ron "just happened" to hear upper-year students in the corridor talking about Professor Flitwickcasting flying charms on a vast number of keys.
Draco was like a patient feeder, bit by bit, scattering bait for those three naive Gryffindors.
He knew that once all the groundwork was laid, the next crucial plot point was in that place.
Hagrid's Hut.
Thus, Draco began to frequently take "strolls" near Hagrid's Hut.
He would knock on Hagrid's door under the pretext of asking about magical creatures, leaving behind a few bottles of fine butterbeer in the process.
He would also "just happen" to pass by on his way to the Forbidden Forest and chat with Hagrid for a bit.
Hagrid's fondness for this polite and studious Slytherinhonors student grew immensely, and he let his guard down completely.
Finally, on a stormy night of thunder and lightning.
The opportunity arrived.
Draco held a black umbrella, standing in the woods not far from Hagrid's Hut.
Rainwater slid off the umbrella's surface, forming puddles at his feet.
He took a flesh-colored, long rope-like object from his pocket.
[Improved System Blueprint: Ultra-Long-Distance High-Sensitivity Extendable Ear.]
This was a gadget the Weasley twins wouldn't invent until the future; the System had replicated and upgraded it early using Alchemy.
The eavesdropping distance was further, the sound quality clearer, and it was almost impossible to detect with magic.
Draco silently extended one end of the Extendable Ear along the wet grass until it reached beneath the windowsill of Hagrid's Hut.
He inserted the earplug on the other end into his ear.
The sounds inside the hut immediately came through clearly.
"...So, you're sure you want it? These things aren't easy to raise," a strange, raspy voice said, sounding as if it were speaking through a cloak.
"Of course! I definitely want it! I've dreamed of raising a dragon!" Hagrid's excited voice came through, his volume quite loud.
A dragon!
Draco's gaze sharpened.
"Very well," the stranger's voice said.
"However, I must first confirm if you can really handle the 'troubles' inside Hogwarts."
"Oh, that's simple enough!" Hagrid boasted proudly.
"That Cerberus, Fluffy, I raised him! That little fellow, just play him a bit of music and he'll fall right asleep!"
"Dealing with him is easier than dealing with a Flobberworm!"
A slight curve appeared at the corner of Draco's mouth.
This big oaf had sold out the secret of the first obstacle in just a few sentences.
"Is that so?" the stranger sounded very interested, "And what about the ones after that?"
"I don't know about the ones after that; those are the obstacles set up by the Professors."
"Professor Sprout set up some strange plants, and Professor Flitwick seems to have set up a whole bunch of flying keys..."
Hagrid continued to ramble on.
Draco no longer bothered to listen.
His attention was drawn by another sound.
A "thud"—the muffled sound of a heavy object being placed on the wooden table.
"Alright, Hagrid," the stranger said, "this is yours. Remember our agreement, don't tell anyone you saw me."
"Don't you worry! My lips are sealed!"
Immediately following were the sounds of a door opening and closing.
The stranger had left.
Through the Extendable Ear, Draco could hear Hagrid's excited, heavy breathing.
He seemed to be muttering to himself at the "heavy object" on the table.
"Oh... my little baby... you're so beautiful... a giant black pebble..."
A dragon egg!
That was it!
[Ding!]
[Time-Limited Mission Issued: Blood of the Dragon!]
[Mission Description: The Norwegian Ridgeback's egg is about to hatch. Please obtain at least 10ml of amniotic fluid or newborn dragon blood during the hatching process.]
Draco retracted the Extendable Ear.
The rain had soaked the hem of his robes, but he didn't care in the slightest.
A greedy expression appeared on his face.
Dragon blood!
And the precious newborn blood of a Norwegian Ridgeback at that!
A top-tier Potion ingredient and Alchemy material that money couldn't buy!
Harry Potter and those other fools would only treat this little dragon as a hot potato, eager to send it away.
A complete waste of a heavenly treasure.
But he, Draco Malfoy, would squeeze the most precious value out of this so-called "trouble."
He looked at the small wooden hut swaying in the wind and rain in the distance; the dim yellow light from that window became an enticing treasure in his eyes.
Hagrid, thank you for your generosity.
And your future little baby.
Its first drop of blood—I've reserved it.