Chapter 89: The nimbus 2001 Debuts! Ron: Is Being Rich That Great?
Early Saturday morning, during the Gryffindor Quidditchteam's training time.
When Oliver Wood led the team onto the Quidditch Pitchwith their brooms, a group of green figures had already occupied it.
The Slytherin team.
Even more eye-catching was that each of them held a brand-new nimbus 2001, the gold-stamped model name on the ebony handles glinting sharply in the morning light.
"What are you doing here?" Wood strode forward. "We booked the Quidditch Pitch!"
The Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fellow built like a Troll, waved a parchment note in his hand.
"Professor Snape signed it. We have a new Seeker on the team and need extra training."
He grinned and stepped aside, revealing the person behind him.
Draco Malfoy.
Harry frowned. "It's you? You've joined the team?"
Draco didn't even look at him.
"I thought joining the team was about talent, not your rich father," Ron whispered from the side. "Buying your way onto the team, how glorious."
Hermione, who had followed to watch the excitement, couldn't help but step out with her hands on her hips.
"The training time was booked! This is unfair competition!"
As soon as she said this, Flint's face darkened, his yellow teeth baring as he opened his mouth to spit out the foulest slur.
"You filthy little..."
The second half of the word was forcefully blocked.
It was Draco's broom handle, thrust directly in front of his mouth. The Wood knocked against teeth with a dull thud.
Draco didn't even turn his head; he simply lifted the nimbus 2001 in his hand.
The ferocity on Flint's face immediately turned into wariness, and he obediently shut his mouth.
Only then did Draco slowly turn around, pass through his teammates, and walk up to Hermione.
He was already more than half a head taller than Hermione, and standing there, an invisible pressure washed over her.
Hermione straightened her back, glaring at him without showing any weakness.
Draco looked at her like a little wildcat with its fur standing on end and suddenly smiled.
He reached out and naturally pinched Hermione's slightly crooked collar, straightening it for her.
Hermione's whole body stiffened, and her cheeks burned.
"Miss Granger."
Draco's voice was very light, but the meaning in his words was like shards of ice.
"Don't use your Muggle world's 'fairness' to measure things here."
"In this world, some gaps exist from birth."
He withdrew his hand and tapped his fingers on the handle of the nimbus 2001.
"This is heritage."
He then pointed to his temple.
"This is talent."
"The hard work you believe in is worthless in the face of absolute heritage and talent."
His gaze moved past Hermione, sweeping over the teammates behind her holding their worn-out Cleansweep Sevens, before finally resting on Harry and Ron.
"If you follow the wrong person and stand with the wrong team, your entire life will be wasted in this kind of meaningless struggle."
Hermione instinctively looked back at Harry and Ron.
One was thin and weak, the other clumsy, both holding old brooms issued by the school.
Then she looked back at the other side—a row of nimbus 2001s, their presence imposing.
"You're lying!"
A roar interrupted her thoughts.
It was Ron. His face was flushed red as he pulled out that broken wand held together with Spellotape.
"You just wait, Malfoy!"
He pointed his wand at Draco and shouted, "Eat slugs!"
A flash of green light erupted from the end of the wand, but the damaged wand couldn't withstand the power of the spell.
The green light had just shot out when it suddenly reversed direction, slamming hard back into Ron himself!
Ron was thrown back by the force, rolling several times on the grass before lying still.
"Ron!" Harry cried out, rushing over.
The next second, Ron's body convulsed violently.
He lay on the ground and opened his mouth.
"Blegh—"
A giant, glistening slug vomited out of his mouth, falling onto the grass and even twitching once.
"Blegh— Blegh—"
A second one, a third... Ron lay on the ground, uncontrollably vomiting slugs in an extremely disgusting scene.
The entire field was stunned.
The Slytherin players froze for a few seconds before bursting into piercing laughter.
"Hahaha! He used the spell on himself!"
"Merlin, I've never seen such a stupid Weasley!"
Even the Gryffindor players, looking at the slime and wriggling creatures covering the ground, turned pale and looked away.
Draco stepped back half a pace in disgust, as if afraid the slime would dirty his team uniform.
He looked at Ron rolling on the ground and the helpless Harry, his face showing no laughter, only cold mockery.
"Even the weasley family's broken wand knows better than its owner who the strong one is."
Ron Weasley was admitted to the Hospital Wingbecause of the slug incident, becoming Hogwarts' latest laughingstock.
Harry was snatched away by a furious Captain Wood to begin hellish extra training.
This gave Draco the perfect opportunity.
In his dormitory, calculating the time, he took out the two-way mirror.
"Hermione."
Magic was infused, and the girl's wary and flustered face appeared in the mirror.
"Draco?" Her voice was kept very low.
"Eighth floor, opposite the barnabas the barmy being clubbed by trolls tapestry," Draco ordered directly. "Ditch everyone and come by yourself."
"What's... there?"
"Your holiday 'reward'," Draco said with a hint of a smile. "Don't be late."
He cut the connection.
Hermione stared at the mirror as it returned to its smooth surface, her heart beating wildly.
A reward... Her mind flashed back to his fingers straightening her collar on the Quidditch Pitch.
Taking a deep breath, she dropped a line to Ginny and Parvati saying, "I'm going to the Library to look up some materials," then grabbed her bag and slipped out of the Common Room.
Fifteen minutes later, Hermione ran panting to the eighth-floor corridor.
It was empty here, except for that tapestry depicting the Trolls going mad.
Remembering Draco's instructions, she began to pace back and forth in front of the empty wall.
"I need a place to meet Draco alone..."
She chanted in her heart, and as she passed the wall for the third time, a wooden door carved with intricate patterns silently appeared on the wall.
Hermione covered her mouth and pushed the door open.
Draco was sitting in a velvet armchair; seeing her, the corner of his mouth quirked up.
"The... reward you mentioned..." she asked quietly.
Draco didn't speak, but simply took her hand and walked to a massive bookshelf.
"Take a look."
Hermione's gaze was instantly pinned by the book titles.
"Ancient Runes Analysis: From Hieroglyphs to Runes", "A Study of Lost Spells: Fifth Era Magic", "Dragon Magic Structuralism"... they were all rare copies that couldn't even be found in the Restricted Section!
To someone hungry for knowledge, this was a holy land!
"Heavens..." Hermione's eyes were terrifyingly bright.
Behind her, a warm body pressed close, and Draco's breath brushed against her ear.
"I told you, I would see your value."
"However, before you read, let's do something more interesting."
He pulled a thin pamphlet from the bookshelf.
"An advanced ancient spell, the 'Guardian's Chain'. It allows your magic to resonate with another person's, sensing their danger. For you, it won't be difficult."
Hermione took the pamphlet and was immediately drawn in by the exquisite incantations. She pulled out her wand and began to try.
The tip of the wand flashed once, then went out.
"No, the magic is too scattered."
Draco shook his head and walked behind her, grabbing her wand-holding wrist without allowing any refusal.
"I'll teach you."
His chest pressed tightly against her back. His other hand circled her waist from the side, his palm resting flat on her lower abdomen.
"Feel my magic."
A warm and domineering magic flowed from his palm, through her wrist, and into her body.
Draco guided her magic, following the trajectory of the incantation.
Hermione's whole body was stiff, her breathing stopped.
She could clearly feel the rise and fall of his chest, the breath he exhaled against the side of her neck, and the heat from the hand on her abdomen.
Her mind was a blank; she could only let him take control of her body and magic.
"Right... concentrate... release!"
With Draco's low whisper, the tip of Hermione's wand finally shot out a silver-white chain of light!
"I did it!"
Hermione turned around excitedly, wanting to share her joy with him, only to bump straight into a firm chest.
The next second, her chin was gently lifted by a hand.
Draco's face enlarged before her eyes, and then he leaned down and kissed her.
The wand in her hand fell onto the carpet with a "clatter".
One of Draco's hands tightly gripped the back of her head, his fingers sliding into her bushy curls, preventing her from retreating, leaving her to only passively endure.
The air in her lungs was drained. Hermione's knees went weak, and she leaned powerlessly into his embrace, gasping for breath, her face so red it looked like it was burning.
Draco rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes which were clouded with moisture, and revealed a successful smile.
A diary with a pure black cover was tucked into her arms.
"Hermione," his voice was somewhat raspy from the deep kiss, "remember when I said Harry was 'not normal'?"
In her state of oxygen deprivation and shame, Hermionenodded dazed.
"I suspect he's being influenced by something dark. For example... a soul fragment of the Dark Lord."
A soul fragment of the Dark Lord!
Those few words were like a bucket of ice water, clearing Hermione's mind slightly as fear appeared in her eyes.
"This is an 'Observation Diary'," Draco's voice was extremely persuasive.
"From today on, I want you to record everything abnormal about Harry. When he talks to himself, when he says he hears strange voices, when he loses emotional control."
He looked into her eyes, word by word.
"You are saving him. Only by knowing what is happening to him can we find a way to purify him. Do you understand?"
"I..." Hermione looked at the diary in her arms, then at the man in front of her.
Draco was trusting her.
He had entrusted such an important task to her.
This gave her a way to save her friend.
She hugged the diary tightly and looked up at Draco with determination.
"I understand, Draco."
Chapter 90: Perfect Alibi! Harry Spends Halloween with Ghosts!
Halloween was approaching.
The air in Hogwarts was filled with the sweet, cloying scent of roasted pumpkin.
Harry Potter was avoiding Gilderoy Lockhart, who would grab him for a photo whenever he caught him, treating him like a living trophy.
On Halloween Eve, he was still cornered by Lockhart in the hallway.
"Harry! My good fellow!"
Just as Harry was preparing to endure another round of camera flashes, a translucent body passed through Lockhart's arm and floated in front of him.
It was Nearly Headless Nick.
"Good evening, Harry!" Nick said cheerfully. "I was just looking for you! Would you like to attend my Deathday Party?"
"Deathday Party?" Harry was completely confused.
"My five-hundredth death anniversary party!" Nick explained. "Halloween night, in the Dungeons! All my friends will be there!"
To immediately escape from Lockhart, Harry agreed without thinking.
Ron and Hermione were naturally brought along as well.
This news reached Draco Malfoy's ears word for word through Hermione's two-way mirror.
"Deathday Party? Dungeons?"
On the sofa in the Slytherin Common Room, Draco's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest and then stopped.
On Halloween night, Harry and the other two would go to the Dungeons.
All the teachers and students would be in the Great Hall.
From the Dungeons to the second-floor girls bathroom, there wouldn't be a single person on that path.
A perfect plan quickly pieced itself together in his mind.
It was simply a godsend.
That night, Draco gathered all the Slytherins.
He stood before the fireplace, the fire casting a long shadow behind him.
"I have an order."
His voice wasn't loud, yet it instantly quieted the entire Common Room.
"After the Halloween feast begins until curfew, no Slytherin is allowed to go near any corridor on the second floor or above."
The students looked at each other, not understanding his meaning.
"Why, Draco?" an upper-year prefect asked, bracing himself.
Draco's gaze pinned him down.
"Because I said so."
The prefect's throat moved, he lowered his head, and didn't dare say another word.
"Those who disobey," Draco's voice was flat, "will be permanently expelled from Slytherin's core circle. I mean what I say."
No one doubted the weight of those words.
In Slytherin, being ostracized by Draco was more serious than being expelled from the school... On Halloweennight, the Great Hall was festively decorated with thousands of live bats and giant jack-o'-lanterns.
Draco wore a well-tailored black suit, the silver snake brooch on his collar reflecting the candlelight. He sat at the long table, looking out of place amidst the surrounding noise.
The rumors of the "heir of Slytherin" made many younger students uneasy, not even daring to glance in his direction.
Draco noticed.
Holding a goblet, he proactively walked to the freshman area, his lips curving into a perfectly measured smile.
"No need to be nervous." He patted a trembling young boy's shoulder. "Those are all nonsense. Follow the rules, and no one can hurt you."
His elegant manner and reassuring tone made the freshmen visibly relax, and a few brave ones had already begun to look at him with admiration.
At the staff table, Dumbledore noticed this scene and nodded approvingly.
This was exactly the effect Draco wanted.
He wanted everyone to see that he, Draco Malfoy, was a steady leader, not the villain of the rumors.
Halfway through the feast.
The system radar in Draco's mind silently flashed a red light.
[Warning! Detected a sharp increase in magic fluctuations from the Horcrux [Tom Riddle's Diary]!]
[Target Location: Third-floor corridor! Moving towards the second floor!]
It's coming.
Draco's eyelashes fluttered slightly.
He glanced at the Gryffindor table; the seats for Harryand the other two were empty.
The timing was perfect.
He suddenly reached out to press his temple, his body swaying slightly, and his brow furrowed.
"Draco, what's wrong?" Pansy, who had been watching him closely, immediately leaned in.
Daphne, who was nearby, also cast a concerned look.
"Dizzy." Draco's voice sounded a bit weak. "It's too stuffy in here."
"I'll accompany you back to the Common Room!" Pansysaid urgently.
"I'll go too." Daphne stood up as well.
"...Alright." Draco "reluctantly" agreed.
Supported by Pansy and Daphne on either side, he stood up and left the feast early.
Passing the staff table, he paused, looked toward Snape, and gave a pale, apologetic smile.
Snape frowned but waved him off.
The perfect witnesses were all in place.
The Head of Slytherin and two pure-blood heiresses could all testify that he was unwell at the time of the incident and had returned to his dormitory early.
No one could suspect him.
Once they reached the corner of the corridor outside the Great Hall and confirmed no one was around, Dracopushed the two girls away.
The sickly look on his face vanished completely, replaced by a calmness as cold as ice water.
"You two, go back to the Common Room immediately. Tell everyone I'm resting in my dormitory and am not to be disturbed."
"What about you?" Pansy asked, confused.
"I have more important things to do."
Draco didn't explain further, drawing his wand and tapping himself.
"Disillusionment Charm."
His form distorted for a moment and then vanished into the air.
Before Pansy and Daphne could react, the person in front of them was gone.
Shaking off the dead weight, Draco used his Child of Wind talent to move silently and quickly towards the second floor.
He soon arrived outside the abandoned girls bathroom.
He didn't go inside, but instead hid in the shadow of a suit of armor at the end of the corridor.
That evil and active magic belonging to the Horcrux was not far ahead.
A few minutes later, a small, thin figure stumbled out of the bathroom.
Ginny Weasley.
The girl's face was as pale as paper, her eyes hollow, like a puppet on strings.
In one hand she held a constantly struggling creature, and in the other, a bucket of fishy-smelling... liquid.
Draco's eyes turned sharp.
He watched as Ginny walked to the wall, reached out with a trembling finger, dipped it into the bucket, and wrote on the stone wall.
"THE Chamber of Secrets HAS BEEN OPENED."
(The Chamber of Secrets has been opened.)
"ENEMIES OF THE heir, BEWARE."
(Beware, enemies of the heir.)
The blood-red handwriting glowed dimly under the torches.
After finishing the writing, Ginny used magic to hang the now motionless creature upside down from a nearby torch bracket.
Draco narrowed his eyes.
It was Filch's cat, Madam Norris.
It had been petrified, its body stiff and its fur standing on end.
Tom Riddle's soul fragment was smarter than expected, knowing that using the caretaker's cat would create the most panic.
After doing all this, Ginny seemed to have all her strength drained; her body went limp, and the bucket of blood hit the floor with a "clang."
She looked blankly at her hands, then at the words on the wall and the cat, real terror finally welling up in her eyes.
She let out a short scream, turned, and stumbled away.
Draco watched all of this silently.
Now, he just had to wait for savior to take the bait.
He leaned back into the shadows, adjusted his posture, and waited patiently.
He was looking forward to Harry Potter's expression when he saw this scene... Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party had finally ended.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione practically fled from the Dungeons.
"I'm freezing to death!" Ron shivered, hugging his arms. "That food, my god, there were maggots growing on it!"
"Don't talk about it, Ron." Hermione also had a look of disgust. "Let's get back to the Common Room quickly; the feast should be over by now."
The three of them quickened their pace toward Gryffindor Tower.
But when they reached the second floor, the atmosphere around them felt very wrong.
It was too quiet.
Harry slammed to a halt.
That cold, hissing voice once again crawled into his brain.
"...Come... come to me... let me rip you... let me kill you..."
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione saw that his face looked off.
"That voice... it's back." Harry's face went pale, and he involuntarily looked in the direction the voice was coming from.
The three of them walked forward a few steps and turned a corner.
They all froze in place at the same time.
On the corridor wall, two lines of large, dark-red words were dripping down.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir, beware."
Below the writing, a cat was hung by its tail from a torch bracket, its body stiff and its eyes wide.
"Madam Norris!" Ron cried out.
Caretaker Filch's cat!
Just then, the bell signaling the end of the Halloweenfeast rang.
The sound of students talking and laughing came from the end of the corridor, surging toward them.
"Let's go!" Ron panicked, reaching out to pull Harry.
It was too late.
The first group of students turned the corner and saw them.
They also saw the blood-red writing on the wall and the hanging cat.
The noise came to an abrupt halt.
Everyone's eyes were pinned on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were standing at the "crime scene."
The three of them had just come from the cold Dungeons, their bodies carrying a damp chill and their faces pale; they looked suspicious no matter how you looked at it.
Especially Harry, who was standing directly in front of that terrifying scene.
"He did it!"
A scream rang out from the crowd.
Immediately following, whispers turned into open accusations.
"He killed Filch's cat!"
"He wrote the words on the wall, too!"
"I knew there was something wrong with him..."
Harry's mind went blank, and he could only offer a weak defense: "No... it wasn't me! We just got here!"
No one believed him.
The crowd automatically parted to make a path as the Slytherin students arrived.
Draco walked at the very front.
He didn't look at Harry, walking straight to the wall. He frowned, examining the line of blood-red words, then looked down at the stiff cat.
He didn't even reach out to touch it, only observing from a short distance.
"It's Petrificus Totalus," he spoke, his voice not loud but clearly reaching everyone in the dead-silent corridor.
"A very advanced Dark Arts."
As soon as he finished speaking, Filch's raspy cries came from behind the crowd. He pushed through the students like a madman and rushed to the front.
"My cat! My Madam Norris!"
Seeing the cat's miserable state, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he grabbed the collar of Harry, who was closest to him.
"It's you! You did it! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
"Stop it! Argus!"
Dumbledore and several Professors finally arrived.
An invisible force separated Filch and Harry.
Dumbledore's expression was unusually grave.
"All students, return to your respective dormitories immediately!" Professor McGonagall ordered loudly.
But not a single student moved; everyone's eyes were fixed on Harry Potter, waiting to see how the Principalwould deal with him...
Chapter 91: Slytherin's Conspiracy! The Supreme heir!
"It's him!" Filch pointed at Harry, his shrill voice cutting through the air as he wailed at Dumbledore, "He killed my cat!"
Dumbledore finished examining the stiff Madam Norrisand spoke softly, "She's not dead, Argus, only petrified."
"Who did it? I want him punished!"
The eyes of everyone in the corridor were once again fixed on Harry.
Harry felt a chill all over; those gazes were like needles, pricking him so that he had nowhere to hide.
Just then, a cool voice rang out.
Draco Malfoy.
He turned to look at Harry, his grey-blue eyes unreadable.
Scrutiny, doubt, and perhaps something else.
"Potter," he began, speaking slowly, every word crystal clear, "I recall you've always hated Madam Norris, haven't you?"
Harry was taken aback and nodded subconsciously.
The whole school knew about this.
Draco also nodded and turned to Dumbledore, his tone becoming very impartial.
"Principal, Mr. Potter is indeed someone Madam Norris'looks after' quite often, but..."
He shifted his tone, adding a touch of regret.
"Even if you hate her, using such Dark Arts to retaliate against a cat is... a bit much."
It wasn't an accusation, yet it was more lethal than any accusation.
Draco's words struck at the root of the matter, directly shifting the nature of the event from a "mysterious Chamber of Secrets attack" to "Harry Potter's personal revenge."
Harry hated the cat, so he used Dark Arts to retaliate.
The bloody writing on the wall? Perhaps he wrote it on purpose to frame someone else!
A buzz of discussion exploded in the crowd.
"I knew he could use Dark Arts!"
"He's a Parseltongue; what's so strange about him using Petrificus Totalus?"
"How terrifying, all for a cat..."
Ron's mouth hung open, unable to squeeze out a single word.
Hermione's face turned pale.
Draco's words to her in the Room of Requirement echoed repeatedly in her mind.
— "I suspect he might be influenced by something... dark."
Everything before her eyes perfectly confirmed Draco's "prophecy."
She looked toward Draco at the back of the crowd, hoping to find a hint of denial on his face.
Draco happened to look over as well, his expression calm.
Dumbledore looked at the chaos before him, then at the "impartial" Malfoy Family boy, and let out a long sigh.
What the truth was no longer mattered.
The seeds of doubt had been sown.
That night, Slytherin Common Room.
The air here was different from anywhere else in Hogwarts, thick with excitement and restlessness.
"The Chamber of Secrets has really been opened!"
"'Enemies of the heir, beware'! So cool!"
"The heir is back! He's going to purge the mudbloods from the school!"
Students gathered around the fireplace, talking in hushed voices, their eyes repeatedly glancing at the black leather sofa in the center of the common room.
Draco sat there, swirling a goblet.
The deep red cranberry juice looked like blood under the firelight.
All the Slytherins' gazes were filled with awe, falling upon the man with the purest blood and the greatest power.
Besides him, who else was qualified to be Salazar Slytherin's heir?
Blaise Zabini approached with a glass; he was one of the few who dared to get close to Draco at a time like this.
"Draco," he asked in a low voice, "The heir... is it you?"
Draco looked up at him but didn't speak.
He finished the juice in his glass, handed the empty cup to Pansy nearby, and the corners of his mouth curled into a faint arc.
Neither admitting nor denying.
This ambiguity was more powerful than any answer.
Blaise looked at him, the awe in his eyes deepening.
Late night, dormitory.
Goyle, Crabbe, Blaise, and Theodore Nott were summoned to Draco's bedside.
"I don't care who the heir is or what they want to do."
Draco's voice was clear in the quiet room, carrying an unquestionable command.
"From today on, keep your people in check. Don't go looking for trouble, and especially don't provoke those Gryffindor idiots."
"Why?" Goyle's brain hadn't caught up. "Isn't now the best time? Everyone suspects Potter!"
"Idiot." Draco glanced at him. "Precisely because everyone suspects him, we need to stay out of it."
He paced to the window, looking at the pitch-black lake outside.
"Let that stupid Potter draw all the fire; let him fight the 'monster'."
"We'll just watch the show."
"When there's only one winner left on stage, we'll step in and take everything."
Blaise's and Theodore's eyes instantly lit up.
This was a true Slytherin.
After dismissing them, Draco set up powerful Silencing Charms and defensive spells around his bed.
From under his pillow, he pulled out that black diary.
He could feel that the soul inside was in a state of excitement due to the success of its first crime.
Draco's fingertips brushed across the cold cover of the diary, and a series of hissing sounds came from his throat.
Parseltongue.
*Tom, having fun?*
Ink quickly spread across the pages, the handwriting frantic.
[Who are you? How do you know Parseltongue?]
Draco's thoughts were imprinted directly into the diary.
*Who I am isn't important. I just think your debut after fifty years was too crude.*
[Crude? I've sent everyone into a panic! I've made that damn Potter a suspect!] The diary's handwriting carried fury.
*Panic? No, just a small mess.*
Draco's thoughts were full of condescending scrutiny.
*A true Slytherin uses rules, public opinion, and the hearts of people to make their enemies walk into traps themselves.*
*Watch, Tom. I'll show you what the art of purging looks like.*
Having said that, Draco cut off the connection, leaving the remnant soul to roar silently inside the diary.
The next day, he didn't go to class and went straight to the Library.
Snape's permission slip allowed him to enter the Restricted Section.
The Restricted Section was dim, smelling of old paper and dust.
Draco used the light from his wand to illuminate the rows of ancient book spines, walking toward the deepest corner.
A girl was standing there.
A girl wearing a Ravenclaw uniform with long, pale blonde hair.
She was barefoot, standing on the cold stone floor, on tiptoe and looking up, seemingly searching for something.
Luna Lovegood.
Draco frowned imperceptibly; why was this Loony girl here?
Luna noticed his gaze and turned her head.
Her large, misty eyes stared straight at Draco.
Draco's heart tightened.
That look seemed like it could see right through him.
"On you," Luna suddenly spoke, her voice very light and airy, "there are many Wrackspurts."
Draco's breath hitched for a moment.
Wrackspurts? Things from the quibbler.
But he immediately realized that Luna, in her own way, had sensed the abnormality about him.
Was it his overly powerful magic? Or the dark aura of the Horcrux?
"They're flying around you," Luna tilted her head and continued, "cheering around you."
For the first time, Draco felt wary of this girl.
He reined in all his outward aura, put on a gentle smile, and crouched down to look Luna in the eye.
"Is that so? Then they must be attracted to my handsome looks."
After saying that, he followed Luna's previous gaze and looked up.
A pair of canvas shoes was hanging from the top of the bookshelf.
"Are you looking for these?" he asked.
Luna nodded.
Draco stood up and tapped his wand lightly.
"Accio Shoes."
The pair of shoes drifted slowly into his hand.
He handed the shoes to Luna and sat down on the steps nearby.
"I've heard that grinding a Crumple-Horned Snorkack's horn into powder can create a Forgetfulness Potion, is that true?" He took the initiative to chat about the creatures from the quibbler.
Luna's eyes lit up, and she immediately became interested, talking incessantly about her father's "research findings."
Draco listened patiently, asking questions occasionally, using his vast knowledge to analyze those absurd theories logically.
Chatting with this girl allowed his nerves, which had been strained from days of calculating, to relax for a moment.
He took a leaf-shaped brooch made of Mithril from his pocket, which was engraved with a powerful protective charm.
This was an alchemical item he had made in his spare time, capable of blocking most jinxes.
He pinned the brooch onto Luna's somewhat worn robes.
"A gift for you," he said gently, "as a thank-you for our academic discussion."
It was also a form of hush money.
Luna looked down at the beautiful brooch and didn't refuse.
She accepted the brooch, stood up, and put on her shoes.
Before turning to leave, she looked back at Draco and, in her airy voice, said something that made Draco's smile freeze.
"You'd better be careful."
"There's something around Harry Potter, too."
"It's a black mist."
"It's... eating his brain."
Chapter 92: Slip at the Astronomy Tower! Capturing the Intellectual Senior!
Alarm bells rang in Draco's heart.
He had always treated Luna as an interesting conversation partner, but now it seemed he was wrong.
This girl's "Spiritual Sight," or rather her unique perception, was far more acute than he had imagined.
She could "see" the "black mist" of the Horcrux on Harry, and also the "Wrackspurts" representing the system and magic on him.
This was a huge variable, impossible to control with common sense and logic.
[Warning! Target character 'Luna Lovegood' detected to have extremely high Spiritual Sensitivity! Host is advised to interact with caution!]
The system's prompt confirmed his suspicion.
The expression on Draco's face shifted several times before finally returning to calm.
Looking into Luna's clear yet vacant eyes, he felt that forced control or alienation were not the best choices.
The best way to deal with a "madman" was to follow her logic.
"black mist?" Draco smiled again, his tone curious, "That must be something evil that needs to be purified."
Luna nodded seriously.
"It doesn't like you," she added.
"Oh?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"It's afraid of the light on you."
After saying this, Luna picked up her shoes, turned, and skipped away from the Restricted Section, disappearing at the end of the bookshelves.
Light?
Was she referring to his magic, or the system?
Draco stood in place, watching her back as she left.
This crazy girl must be listed as a subject for long-term observation.
Before figuring out the boundaries of her abilities, he couldn't engage in any more deep contact that might expose himself.
He pulled back his thoughts and turned toward another bookshelf.
However, tonight's trouble was just beginning.
By the time Draco finished his business and walked out of the Library with a few rolls of parchment, the curfew bell was about to ring.
In the empty corridor, only the sound of his own footsteps could be heard.
"Stop right there!"
A crisp and stern female voice came from ahead.
At the corner of the corridor, a tall figure blocked his path.
The newcomer had beautiful long curly hair, and even the Ravenclaw prefect robes couldn't hide her mature curves.
Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw prefect, was known for her strictness.
"Mr. Malfoy." Penelope's expression was very serious as she glanced at the wall clock.
"It is five minutes before curfew, and this place is not close to the Slytherin Dungeon. You are suspected of wandering at night."
She raised her wand, looking like she was strictly following procedure.
"I'm docking ten points from Slytherin."
Draco stopped and looked at her, suddenly finding it a bit amusing.
"prefect Clearwater," he spoke slowly, "First of all, curfew hasn't started yet, so I haven't broken any rules."
"Secondly, I was assigned by Professor Snape to look up materials for Potion Class." He waved the parchment in his hand.
"It has the Dean's notes on it. Do you need to check?"
Penelope's face stiffened; she naturally knew what the consequences of confronting Snape would be.
"Finally," Draco took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
He was a bit taller than Penelope, looking down at her with a playful tone.
"Are you sure you want to offend a Malfoy over these baseless 'deductions'?"
Penelope's breath hitched.
A sense of pressure rushed toward her. It wasn't just from his family, but from the boy himself.
He was two years younger than her, yet those grey-blue eyes held a depth and sense of control far beyond his age.
"A prefect has the right to punish any student," Penelopestraightened her back, trying to maintain her authority, "It is my duty."
"Duty?" Draco laughed, "Does your duty include secretly dating the Gryffindor prefect at the Astronomy Towerafter curfew?"
Penelope's face turned pale instantly.
"You... you're talking nonsense!" Her voice was trembling.
Her underground romance with Percy Weasley was extremely secret; how did he know?
"Whether I'm talking nonsense or not, you know in your heart." Draco admired her panicked expression as if looking at an interesting piece of art.
"Percy Weasley, a good choice. Though his family is poor, he has excellent grades and a bright future. Getting close to him will be very helpful for you to enter the Ministry of Magic after graduation."
With every word Draco spoke, Penelope's face grew whiter.
He was like a devil, laying bare her most secret calculations in the air.
"What do you want?" Penelope's voice carried a tremor, and she could barely hold her wand steady.
"I don't want anything," Draco's smile became gentle, "I just want to make friends with prefect Clearwater."
He reached out and made a "please" gesture, pointing toward the other end of the corridor.
"The view from the Astronomy Tower is quite nice. Let's go there and chat."
Penelope looked at him, her lips moving, but she couldn't say a single word.
She knew she had no room to refuse... The night wind blew across the top of the Astronomy Tower, messing up Penelope's long hair. She hugged her arms, looking uneasily at Draco standing by the railing.
"Why did you bring me here? What do you really want?"
"A deal." Draco turned around, leaning against the railing, "Clearwater, you're a smart person. The things happening at Hogwarts lately are very unusual."
Penelope frowned: "You mean the Chamber of Secrets..."
"No," Draco interrupted her, "I'm talking about Harry Potter."
He stared into Penelope's eyes.
"Why would a boy who grew up in the Muggle world suddenly display so many... abilities that don't belong to him? For example, Parseltongue."
Penelope fell silent; this was also a point of suspicion that many Ravenclaws discussed privately.
"I need you to guide a certain voice in Ravenclaw," Draco's voice was seductive.
"An 'academic' discussion. For instance, savior is under too much pressure, his mind is unstable, and he's starting to seek the power of the Dark Arts."
"Or perhaps, whether some ancient soul-attachment magic could cause changes in the host's personality and abilities."
Penelope immediately understood his intention.
He wanted to use the method Ravenclaws were best at—using knowledge and theory—to ruin Harry Potter.
"This is slander!" Penelope instinctively retorted, "Why should I help you?"
"For yourself." Draco took a thin notebook from his robes.
"Analysis of Advanced Alchemy Rune Applications."
Penelope's gaze was firmly fixed on it.
As a top student in Ravenclaw, her thirst for advanced knowledge was etched into her bones.
This kind of thing couldn't be found in the Library at all.
"Help me, and I can continuously provide such 'academic materials'."
"Furthermore, my father can write a recommendation letter for you, allowing you to enter the Department of Mysteries directly after graduation."
The Department of Mysteries!
The ultimate dream of all research-oriented Wizards!
Penelope's heart pounded wildly; reason and desire were at war.
She looked at Draco, struggling to squeeze out a few words: "No... I can't..."
"Is that so?" The corners of Draco's mouth curled up.
Before he finished speaking, a gust of wind swept up from below the tower without warning!
"Ah!"
Penelope lost her footing, her body leaning backward, falling straight toward a gap in the railing!
Her scream was torn apart by the wind as soon as it left her mouth.
Just when she thought she was dead, an arm wrapped around her waist like lightning, pulling her back forcefully.
Penelope crashed heavily into a hard chest, making her head spin.
The scent of cedar and mint instantly enveloped her.
It was Draco.
One of his hands was clamped around her waist like an iron vise, while the other pressed against the back of her head, confining her entire body in his embrace, unable to move.
"Be careful, senior," Draco's voice sounded in her ear, tinged with a smile, "The wind at the Astronomy Towerdoesn't have eyes."
Penelope felt weak all over, her heart still pounding in her throat. That gust of wind just now was too strange!
Panic, lingering fear, and a ridiculous sense of security intertwined in her heart.
Draco's fingers began to move slowly up her back, following the line of her spine, with just the right amount of pressure.
A current of electricity shot up from her tailbone; Penelope's body tensed instantly, and she couldn't help but shiver.
"Now..."
Draco's lips were almost touching her earlobe, his warm breath making her ear itch, and half of her body went numb.
"Can we talk about that 'deal' again?"
His voice was deep and magnetic.
Penelope's defenses crumbled inch by inch amidst the extreme terror and this irresistible intimate contact.
She leaned into his embrace, "...Okay."
Chapter 93: bludger Rampage! Draco's Aerial Hunt!
Early the next morning, on Quidditch match day, at the Ravenclaw table.
A few upperclassmen gathered together, whispering in discussion.
"...I heard from Senior Penelope that there's a rare soul parasite magic that makes the host exhibit traits completely unlike themselves."
"That's right, 'The Origins of Ancient Dark Arts' also mentions that massive psychological trauma can trigger the awakening of Dark Arts power..."
"Are you saying that Potter..."
Similar "academic analyses" spread through the House of the Blue Eagle like a virus.
Beside the Slytherin table, Draco picked up his Pumpkin Juice and raised his glass toward Ravenclaw from a distance.
Penelope, amidst the crowd, seemed to feel his gaze; her cheeks flushed bright red, and she hurriedly lowered her head in confusion.
[Ding! Ravenclaw faction infiltration increased by 10%!]
[Congratulations to the host for completing 'The Layout of the Hidden Pawn,' obtaining skill: Legilimency(Elementary)!]
In the Slytherin locker room, the air was so thick with tension it could be wrung out like water.
Captain Marcus Flint was spitting as he repeated his'savage collision' tactic.
"...Just crash into them once you're on the field! Especially Potter, knock him down!"
The team members had little expression, but their eyes kept drifting toward the corner.
Draco Malfoy leaned against the wall, wiping his nimbus 2001 with a soft cloth. The ebony handle glinted between his fingers.
He wasn't wearing the heavy team uniform, but just a silver-green vest over black training clothes, making him look very light.
Flint finished speaking and looked at Draco, his tone a bit weak.
"Draco, do you... have anything to add?"
Ever since Draco had stuffed a broom handle into his mouth once before, Flint had grown somewhat fearful of this Seeker.
Draco tossed the cloth aside and stood up straight.
"There is only one tactic for today."
Everyone pricked up their ears.
"Me."
Draco pointed to himself.
"You all, coordinate with me. Beaters, clear out any bludgers that try to get near me. chasers, score as much as possible."
He paused, turning his gaze toward Flint.
"As for you, Captain, mind your own business and don't cause trouble."
These words were equivalent to directly stripping Flint of his command.
Flint's face turned the color of pig liver, his fists clenching with a creak, but facing Draco's calm eyes, he couldn't say a single word.
"Today's goal isn't to catch the Snitch."
Draco walked to the door, his hand resting on the handle.
"It's to humiliate Gryffindor."
"Let everyone see who the ruler of the skies truly is."
He pulled open the door, and the cheers from outside flooded in.
"Make them wail for Slytherin's victory."
Having said that, he was the first to walk out.
In the eyes of the team members behind him, a fierce determination instantly ignited.
This was the leader they wanted!
Draco mounted his nimbus 2001 and flew into the pitch, surrounded by his teammates.
The Slytherin stands erupted in a massive cheer, silver and green banners fluttering.
He rose into the air, his gaze passing over the Gryffindors opposite him and settling on a corner of the stands.
[System map activated, detecting abnormal magical fluctuations...]
[Target locked: House-elf 'Dobby'. Target emotion: Anxiety, fear.]
[Detecting that the target is casting a Jinx on a bludger...]
Found it.
A corner of Draco's mouth twitched.
Stupid elf.
"Beep—!"
Madam Hooch's whistle blew.
The match begins!
The moment the whistle blew, a bolt of black lightning shot out from the Slytherin team!
It was Draco!
He pushed the performance of the nimbus 2001 to its limit; with a pure burst of linear acceleration, he left everyone behind and took the high ground.
"Look at Malfoy's speed!" commentator Lee Jordan's voice was full of shock.
Harry also immediately urged his Nimbus 2000 to give chase.
He must keep a close eye on Draco.
But he soon discovered the despairing gap between the two of them.
Draco circled in the air, watching Harry catch up, breathless.
Just as Harry drew near, Draco's body suddenly plummeted!
"A Lansky Feint!"
A gasp went through the stands.
This was an extremely dangerous move where a Seekerpretends to spot the Snitch and dives, luring the opponent to follow, only to pull up at the last second, leaving the other to crash into the ground.
Harry's mind went blank, and he instinctively dove down after Draco!
The ground zoomed in at high speed!
"Harry! Stop!" Wood roared from below.
Harry only realized what was happening when he was almost about to hit the turf, desperately pulling up his broom!
The tail of his broom grazed the turf, kicking up a spray of mud.
He flew back into the air in a sorry state, his heart pounding wildly.
Draco had long since stopped in mid-air, looking at him as if he were a clown.
The Slytherin stands erupted in laughter and cheers.
"Haha! Potter got played!"
"Malfoy is so cool! That was a Lansky Feint!"
Harry's face turned bright red, shame and anger nearly overwhelming him.
Just then, a black bludger veered off course and whistled straight toward Harry!
"Harry! Watch out!"
Fred or George shouted, swinging a bat to knock the bludger away.
But the bludger took a turn in the air and locked onto Harry again, even faster!
"Damn! This thing is crazy!"
The Gryffindor players all noticed something was wrong.
The two Beaters were forced to give up their offense and return with all their might to protect Harry.
Gryffindor's formation was instantly thrown into chaos.
The Slytherin chasers seized the opportunity and began scoring frantically.
"Slytherin scores! Ten-zero!"
"Slytherin again! Twenty-zero!"
..."Sixty-zero! Gryffindor is completely dazed! Their Beaters are only concerned with protecting Harry Potter!"
Harry dodged clumsily in the air; that thing carried a malice as if it wanted to crush him into pulp.
He was drenched in sweat, his arms aching from the extreme evasions.
Just as he narrowly dodged again, a silver-green figure appeared beside him.
It was Draco.
Draco didn't look at the crazed bludger; he just turned his head and looked calmly at Harry with his grey-blue eyes.
The two moved in parallel at high speed in the air.
The sound of the wind and the cheers faded away.
Harry only heard Draco's voice, whispering in his ear in a cold, raspy tone.
It wasn't English.
It was the language of snakes.
"*It wants your life, Potter.*"
Harry stiffened all over, looking at Draco in horror.
How could he... In the moment of distraction, sharp pain shot from his shoulder!
The bludger had grazed him after all!
His uniform tore, and the piercing pain almost made him fall off his broom.
"Time out! Gryffindor requests a time out!"
Oliver Wood shouted toward Madam Hooch.
The Gryffindor team members landed on the ground and surrounded Harry.
"Harry, how are you?" Hermione and Ron also rushed down from the stands.
Harry's right shoulder was a bloody mess, and his face was pale.
"I'm fine..." he said, gritting his teeth.
"You call this fine!" Wood said, exasperated. "There's something wrong with that bludger! The match must be stopped!"
"No!"
Harry snapped his head up, a hint of madness in his eyes.
"It can't be stopped! I have to catch the Golden Snitch! I can't lose to him!"
Everyone knew who the "him" he spoke of was.
Wood looked at Harry's bloodshot eyes and couldn't say a word.
On the other side, the Slytherin team was completely relaxed.
"Nicely done, Draco," Blaise Zabini said with a smile. "Potter is almost broken."
Draco got off his broom and took a sip of water handed to him by Pansy.
"Not enough."
He looked at Harry in the distance, his gaze cold.
"I don't want him just to be injured."
He turned to his two Beaters.
"When we go back out, ignore that bludger chasing Potter."
"What?" Both were stunned.
"Your task," Draco's voice was devoid of emotion.
"Is to attack the rest of the Gryffindors. The chasers, the Keeper, and their Beaters. Hit them hard, make them too busy to look after themselves so no one can help Potter."
This was to completely isolate Harry Potter.
The two Beaters glanced at each other, both seeing the excitement in the other's eyes.
"Understood!"
The time out ended.
Harry stepped back onto the pitch, despite the objections.
Chapter 94: Draco Sneaks into the Infirmary; I'm Taking All of Dobby's Secrets!
The match resumed.
The situation on the field became even more one-sided.
That crazed bludger was still relentlessly pursuing Harry.
Meanwhile, the two Slytherin Beaters were frantically smashing their bludger toward the other Gryffindorplayers.
Gryffindor's formation completely collapsed.
Angelina was hit in the abdomen, screaming as she nearly fell off her broom.
Wood's wrist was struck by the other bludger as he attempted a save.
Fred and George were exhausted from running for their lives, unable to help Harry at all.
The entire pitch had become a slaughterhouse for Slytherin.
Draco, like a hunter, circled unhurriedly in the air.
He was merely "herding" Harry.
Using speed and skill, he forced the clumsily dodging Harry into a corner time and again.
Harry struggled in despair, like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.
Sweat blurred his vision, and the sharp pain in his arm made every swing of his broom feel like he was being torn apart.
His only thought was to find the Golden Snitch and end this nightmare.
Just then, a flash of gold flickered not far to his left!
The Golden Snitch!
Harry's eyes lit up!
Using the last of his strength, he reached out with his good left hand and lunged!
An opportunity!
Draco's eyes narrowed.
He saw the Golden Snitch, and he also saw the black bludger whistling in from Harry's right rear blind spot!
The system's dynamic vision slowed everything down.
He could calculate the bludger's trajectory, Harry's speed, and the exact moment of impact.
He had enough time to fly over and knock it away, or even snatch the Snitch first.
But he didn't.
A second before the bludger was about to hit Harry, Draco's body shifted gracefully to the side.
He yielded the position.
Then, he quietly watched everything that followed.
Thwack—!
The sound of a bone snapping echoed across the pitch!
The black bludger slammed hard into Harry's outstretched right arm!
"Ah—!"
Harry let out a scream of agony and tumbled off his broom.
As he fell, his left hand remained clenched tight.
He had caught the tiny golden ball.
"Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindorwins!"
Lee Jordan's voice held nothing but horror.
The cheering across the stadium died down.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the figure sprawled in the mud.
Harry lay on the ground, his right arm twisted at a grotesque angle, twitching uncontrollably from the pain.
The match was over.
Gryffindor had won.
But no one felt like it was a victory.
The Slytherin players landed beside Draco, their expressions complex.
They had lost the match.
But looking at the screaming savior in the middle of the field, and then at the unscathed Draco beside them, an indescribable sense of victory welled up.
"Quick! Madam Pomfrey!" Professor McGonagall shouted anxiously.
As the school nurse was about to step forward, a figure in flamboyant purple robes pushed through the crowd and rushed in.
It was Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Don't move!" He raised his wand. "Let me! Poor boy, it's a simple matter!"
Madam Pomfrey tried to stop him, but was halted by a voice.
"Let him try, Madam Pomfrey."
It was Draco.
He walked over with his teammates, his face showing the perfect amount of concern and admiration.
"Professor Lockhart is a Wizard who has won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times; a small injury like this is surely nothing to him."
He deliberately raised his voice so everyone nearby could hear.
Hearing this, Lockhart straightened his back even more.
With so many people watching, he couldn't back down.
"Exactly! Watch me!"
Lockhart pointed his wand at Harry's deformed arm and bellowed:
"Brackium Emendo!"
A flash of white light erupted.
Harry's screaming stopped.
Everyone held their breath.
A second later, the crowd erupted in even more terrified screams.
The bones in Harry's right arm... were gone.
The entire arm looked like a length of rubber tubing filled with water, dangling limply on the ground.
The smile on Lockhart's face froze.
Harry looked at his boneless arm, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted from shock.
In the crowd, Draco let out a sneer that only he could hear.
He whispered to Daphne Greengrass beside him:
"See? This is what you call a celebrity Professor."
In the infirmary, the magical lights were dim.
Harry Potter lay on the bed, his face pale. Under the effect of Madam Pomfrey's Potion, his arm was slowly regrowing bones.
A faint ripple appeared in the air.
Under an advanced Disillusionment Charm, Draco Malfoy's figure stood silently in the shadows of the ward.
He wasn't here to visit the sick; he was here to harvest the spoils of war.
[System: Stealth Recording Mode activated.]
[Recording range: Video and audio within a ten-meter radius.]
Draco leaned against the corner, waiting patiently.
He knew that little thing would definitely come.
Pop!
After a soft crack, a House-elf wearing a tattered pillowcase around its waist appeared by Harry's bed.
Dobby.
Its tennis-ball-sized eyes were full of tears.
"Harry Potter..." Dobby's voice was shrill and trembling, "Dobby did not mean to hurt you... Dobby only wanted you to be injured, to be sent home..."
Harry was startled awake on the bed. Seeing it was Dobby, his anger outweighed the pain.
"It was you!" he growled in a low voice. "You blocked the platform! And you tampered with the bludger!"
"Dobby did it to protect Harry Potter!" Dobby cried even harder, banging his head against the foot of the bed.
"Hogwarts is in danger! A terrible plot is being hatched! You must leave!"
"What plot?" Harry asked urgently.
"Dobby cannot say! Dobby will be punished!" The elf covered its mouth in terror.
It rambled on, explaining how it had caused all the trouble for Harry out of "good intentions."
Harry's expression shifted from anger to helplessness.
In the shadows, Draco remained expressionless.
[Recording complete. Key evidence 'Dobby's Confession' has been archived.]
This footage might look like just an elf's mischief for now.
But in the future, when the Ministry of Magic investigated the Malfoy Family...
This evidence that "Lucius Malfoy's House-elf once tried to harm Harry Potter" would become a trump card for him to distance himself from his father, or even control the family's reputation.
Under Harry's repeated assurances, Dobby stopped his self-harm and disappeared with a "pop," full of guilt.
The infirmary returned to silence.
Draco didn't move.
Tonight's show still had a second half.
A few minutes later, the door was pushed open a crack, and a figure even smaller than Harry slipped in.
Colin Creevey, the first-year fanatic admirer of Harry.
Clutching his camera, he crept to the bedside, wanting to sneak a precious photo of the "Savior regrowing bones."
Just as Colin raised his camera, Draco's pupils constricted.
[Warning: High concentration of Dark magic fluctuations detected!]
[Target source: Inside the wall pipes!]
[Species identification: Basilisk (Millennium). Status: Hungry.]
It's here.
A cold, fishy stench seeped from the cracks in the wall, and a massive crawling sound echoed from the pipes.
Harry, who had taken a Sleeping Potion, was completely oblivious.
But Colin, holding his camera, heard it. He stopped in confusion, tilting his head to listen.
"...Rip... Kill you..."
Hissing sounds echoed in the air, which only Draco and the Basilisk inside the walls could understand.
Chapter 95: The Dueling Club! Snape's Perfect Assist!
Draco stood where he was, peering through a ventilation grate in the wall, seeing a pair of massive yellow eyes staring fixedly at the only living thing in the ward.
Colin Creevey.
Colin felt something; he turned around in fear, coming face to face with those eyes.
No, he saw those eyes through the lens of his camera.
"Click."
The sound of the shutter rang out.
The fear and confusion on the boy's face were frozen forever.
His entire body went stiff, and he fell straight backward, hitting the floor with a "thud."
The camera flew out of his hand, emitting a wisp of smoke.
Draco watched silently.
A Muggle-born Gryffindor—what did his life or death have to do with him?
His "sacrifice" would make the plan even more perfect.
The footsteps of Dumbledore and Professor McGonagallcould be heard in the distance.
Draco didn't linger; he turned and blended into the darkness, avoiding all eyes and vanishing at the end of the corridor before the two Professors arrived.
The next day, the news that Colin Creevey had been petrified spread throughout Hogwarts.
Panic enveloped the Castle.
The Chamber of Secrets really had been opened; a monster was starting to attack students.
This time it wasn't a cat, but a living first-year student.
All fingers pointed toward the only person present on the night of the incident—Harry Potter.
"...My brother's friend was in the Hospital Wing and saw it with his own eyes! Colin was lying right next to Harry Potter's bed!"
"He must have been trying to take a secret photo of Harryand got caught!"
"My god, how could he do that? Colin admired him so much!"
"Parseltongue! He knows Parseltongue; he must be able to command that monster!"
Draco sat at the Slytherin table, cutting sausages while listening to Pansy Parkinson report the latest "public opinion results."
He had only given one order last night: "Tell everyone that Colin Creevey was attacked because he tried to take a secret photo of Harry Potter."
The rest could be left to the imagination of the masses.
Rumors would propagate themselves, eventually becoming "truer" than the truth.
Now, Harry Potter was no longer savior, but a dangerous Dark Wizard who eliminated those who opposed him.
Draco looked toward the Gryffindor table.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were completely isolated.
The surrounding students avoided them, casting looks of fear or disgust.
Harry's face was ashen, his fists clenched tight.
Ron's face was flushed red as he argued in vain with everyone gossiping around him.
Only Hermione kept her head down; her face was pale, and her eyes were full of struggle.
It was time.
Draco wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up to leave the Great Hall.
Before long, the two-way mirror in his pocket began to vibrate.
Draco stepped into an empty classroom and took out the mirror; Hermione's anxious and haggard face appeared.
The background was the tiles of a lavatory; she was hiding in a stall.
"Draco!" Her voice was very low, tinged with a sob.
"Harry said a House-elf named Dobby came to find him last night! It was the one controlling the bludger! None of this has anything to do with Harry!"
She pleaded urgently, like someone grasping at a straw.
"I know."
Draco's answer made her freeze.
"You... you know?"
"Of course." Draco leaned against the wall, his tone calm.
"A House-elf, running off to Hogwarts on its own, blocking the platform, and enchanting a bludger."
"Granger, use that clever head of yours and think: is that normal?"
Hermione's lips moved, but she couldn't find the words.
"How would a House-elf dare to attack a Wizard?" Draco's voice was as precise as a scalpel.
"Unless instructed by its master. But why would the Malfoy Family want Harry to go home? It's illogical."
He paused, throwing out a lethal possibility.
"So, it's Harry Potter himself who is attracting these dark, abnormal creatures."
Hermione's body swayed slightly.
"Remember what I said?" Draco's voice grew low.
"I suspect he's being influenced by a remnant of the Dark Lord's soul. An evil soul fragment is parasiting his body. This explains everything."
"Parseltongue, an affinity for the Dark Arts, and now even a House-elf has gone mad because it sensed the darkness within him."
"No... it can't be..." Hermione muttered to herself, but her eyes were completely shaken.
Draco's words perfectly pieced together all the bizarre events, forming a terrifying yet incredibly logical truth.
"I need evidence, Hermione." Draco looked at her. "Help me find evidence. To save him, and to save yourself."
"What... what should I do?" Her voice was lost.
"Polyjuice Potion."
Hermione looked up sharply, a spark of light in her eyes.
"Yes! Polyjuice Potion! We can turn into Slytherinstudents to pump you for information!" She didn't realize at all that she had let it slip.
Draco raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Miss Granger, that's too dangerous. Brewing Polyjuice Potion is very complex, and Professor Snape's storeroom..."
"I have a way!" Hermione interrupted him, her fighting spirit reignited. "As long as I can find out the truth, I'm willing to do anything!"
"Alright." Draco "reluctantly" agreed. "Since you insist, I'll find a way to 'accidentally' provide some convenience for you."
He looked at the girl in the mirror who had regained her spirit, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.
Poor Granger, you think you're searching for the truth?
You're just walking into the trap I've set for you.
That afternoon, during Potion Class.
While Draco was brewing "Invigoration Draught," his wrist twitched, and a pinch of dragon dung"unintentionally" fell into Goyle's cauldron next to him.
"Boom—!"
A loud explosion rang out.
Goyle's cauldron exploded, splashing foul-smelling green liquid everywhere.
The classroom was in chaos; students screamed and dodged while Snape, face grim, used spells to clean up the scene.
No one noticed that amidst the chaos, a bushy brown head quietly slipped to the door of the storeroom.
Hermione Granger.
Her hands were shaking, and her heart was pounding.
Taking advantage of Snape's attention being on Goyle, she slipped into the storeroom.
Boomslang skin... Bicorn horn... she quickly took the ingredients and stuffed them into her bag.
When she slipped out, Draco happened to have been "affected" as well, retreating to the back of the classroom.
He leaned against the wall, watching Hermione's face, flushed from tension and excitement, and her trembling hands clutching her bag.
The corners of Draco's mouth curled up silently.
The fish has taken the bait.
Next, with just a bit more fuel on the fire, all of Hogwartswould see savior's "true face."
Colin's petrification left all of Hogwarts shrouded in a tense panic.
Gilderoy Lockhart clearly felt this was a god-given opportunity to gain both fame and fortune.
A few days later, a conspicuous purple notice was posted on the Great Hall's bulletin board.
Professor Lockhart was to start a Dueling Club to teach students how to defend themselves.
Once the news was announced, the whole school was buzzing.
That evening, the Great Hall was packed to the brim.
The long tables of the four houses had vanished, replaced by a gilded stage illuminated by hundreds of candles.
"Will Professor Lockhart teach any powerful spells?"
"Definitely! He's an expert!"
Students crowded below the stage, whispering excitedly to one another.
The doors of the Great Hall swung open, and Gilderoy Lockhart made his entrance amidst a wave of thunderous applause.
He wore a flamboyant set of lavender robes, his blonde hair glistening under the candlelight, with his signature smile plastered across his face.
"Is everyone here!" He spread his arms wide, enjoying the center of attention.
"I've been thinking, and what you need most right now are some real dueling techniques! To handle... certain emergencies!"
He winked pointedly.
"To that end, I have specially invited an assistant!" Lockhart waved his hand, pointing to the other end of the stage.
Professor Snape stepped out from the shadows.
He was still in his black robes, his face grim, looking as if he had only come because someone was pointing a gun at him.
A wave of suppressed snickering broke out among the Slytherin students.
Having Snape as Lockhart's assistant? This was going to be very interesting.
"Now, let me demonstrate for everyone!" Lockhart did a flamboyant spin and bowed to Snape.
Chapter 96: Harry Tap Dances in Public—A Complete Buffoon!
Snape nodded indifferently.
The two walked to the center of the stage and raised their wands.
"One! Two! Three!"
Lockhart had barely finished shouting the last word and hadn't even prepared a defensive stance.
"Expelliarmus!" Snape's voice was quick and cold.
A flash of red light erupted.
Lockhart's wand flew out, and he was thrown backward by a huge force, crashing into the wall behind him before sliding weakly to the floor, completely disheveled.
The entire hall fell silent.
The next second, a thunderous burst of laughter and applause erupted from the Slytherin side.
Draco stood in the front row, the first to stand and clap, the mockery on his face undisguised.
"Ah... haha... a very good demonstration!" Lockhartscrambled up, dusting himself off, retrieved his wand, and desperately tried to save face.
"Did everyone see clearly? That was the Expelliarmus! Of course, I could have blocked it, but I thought it would be more educational for you to witness its power firsthand!"
No one believed that nonsense.
To regain control of the situation, Lockhart hastily announced that the students should pair up for practice.
"Potter! Malfoy!" His gaze swept the crowd, immediately locking onto the most conspicuous targets.
"You two, come up! Let's see your skill levels!"
The air suddenly grew tense.
Harry and Draco walked onto the stage one after the other, under the scrutiny of the entire school faculty and students.
"Finally, a chance to legitimately teach you a lesson, Potter," Draco whispered as he stepped onto the platform, keeping his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear.
Harry didn't reply, he just tightened his grip on his wand and glared at him with furious eyes.
The two stood in the center of the stage and bowed to each other. Draco's movements were elegant and standard, while Harry's were incredibly stiff.
"Wands up!" Lockhart yelled.
The duel began!
"Expelliarmus!" Harry practically roared it out, wanting to blast Draco away instantly.
Draco merely flicked his wrist, not even bothering to utter the incantation.
The red light Harry shot out dissipated into thin air about a meter in front of Draco, hitting an invisible wall.
A Nonverbal Spell! Harry's pupils contracted.
Before he could react further, Draco's voice rang out.
"Rictusempra!"
A faint light struck Harry. The muscles in his cheeks immediately stretched uncontrollably sideways, pulling his face into an exaggerated and eerie smile.
A burst of laughter erupted from the audience.
"Tarantallegra!"
Draco's second curse followed immediately.
Harry's legs began to tap dance frantically, and combined with the stiff smile on his face, he looked exactly like a ridiculous clown.
He laughed and danced on the stage, making a complete fool of himself.
The Gryffindor students couldn't bear to watch and turned their heads away.
"Enough!" Snape finally spoke up, putting a stop to the one-sided humiliation.
He waved his wand, lifting the spells from Harry.
Harry stopped, panting heavily, his face flushed a deep crimson with shame and fury.
"It seems we need to teach them something more useful," Snape said, walking over to Draco and casting a cold glance at Lockhart.
"Some more aggressive spells. Malfoy, you demonstrate."
The favoritism was completely undisguised. Snape was personally guiding Draco on how to deal with Harry.
Hermione nervously clenched her fists below the stage.
Draco nodded respectfully toward Snape.
He raised his wand again, pointing the tip at the empty space between the two boys.
"Serpensortia!"
A puff of black smoke shot out from the wand tip, twisted into shape in mid-air, and landed on the floor with a snap.
It was a huge, black and shiny snake.
It raised its triangular head more than a meter high, its cold eyes sweeping over the screaming students below, its forked tongue hissing.
The Great Hall was filled with girls' screams.
Annoyed by the noise and the lights, the black snake restlessly slithered around, turning its head toward the person closest to it—Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff.
Justin stood at the edge of the stage, his face pale with fright, his legs trembling, unable to move a step.
The black snake reared up its forebody, opened its large mouth, exposing its fangs, and looked ready to strike!
"Don't be afraid, Justin!" Lockhart yelled, though he himself was backing away in fright. "Professor Snape, get rid of it quickly!"
Snape was about to act.
But a figure suddenly rushed forward.
It was Harry Potter.
Acting on the instinct to protect a classmate, he positioned himself between the black snake and Justin.
Then, he did something that stunned everyone.
He directed a series of cold, rasping, spine-chilling hisses at the black snake preparing to attack!
"Leave him!"
Harry himself didn't know what he had said; he was merely issuing a command in the way he thought a snake would understand.
The Great Hall instantly fell into silence.
Screams, chatter, and laughter—all vanished. Hundreds of pairs of eyes, filled with horror, stared intently at Harry Potter on the stage.
The aggressive black snake dropped its attacking posture upon hearing Harry's hiss.
It obediently slumped onto the floor, motionless.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned to tell Justin, "You're safe."
But all he saw was Justin's face, completely filled with terror.
"What trick are you playing?" Justin's voice was sharp. He pointed at Harry and stumbled backward. "Why did you make it attack me?"
Having said that, he turned, pushed through the crowd, and fled the Great Hall.
Harry was stunned.
Attack? He was clearly saving him!
Why... why was everyone looking at him like that?
Fear, disgust, alienation.
He looked around blankly. His Gryffindor classmates were avoiding his gaze.
Ron stood with his mouth open, his face full of shock. Hermione was deathly pale, covering her mouth, her eyes showing a disappointment and... fear he had never seen before.
In this eerie silence, a clear, powerful voice pierced the frozen air.
It was Draco Malfoy.
He first waved his wand elegantly, and the black snake dissolved into a wisp of black smoke.
Then, as if startled, he took a step back, extended his finger, and pointed directly at Harry, who was still frozen in place.
His voice echoed throughout the entire Great Hall, every word perfectly clear.
"Parseltongue!"
Draco's voice carried a perfect mixture of horror and appropriate outrage.
"He can speak Parseltongue!"
He paused, allowing those two words enough time to ferment in the minds of the crowd.
Then, he delivered the final judgment.
"He is the heir of Salazar Slytherin!"
"He was commanding the snake to attack a student!"
The crowd truly exploded this time.
"Oh my god! Parseltongue! That's the mark of a Dark Wizard!"
"The heir of Slytherin... no wonder the Chamber of Secrets was opened!"
"I heard it! He was ordering the snake to bite Justin!"
"That's terrifying! We've been classmates with the heir for so long!"
Students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw backed away in horror, leaving a large empty space that isolated Harry in the center.
Even within Gryffindor, whispers of suspicion arose.
"Is... is he really?"
"No wonder he always shows up at the scene of the crime..."
Harry's mind was blank. He wanted to defend himself, but his throat felt blocked.
The gazes filled with suspicion, accusation, and fear pinned him to the spot.
"Harry! Let's go!"
Ron finally reacted, rushing onto the stage. He grabbed the distraught Harry and, under the avoiding gazes of the crowd, they fled the Great Hall in embarrassment.
[Ding! Detected that the Host has reached a critical plot point: 'The Birth of the Heir'!]
[Congratulations, Host, you have received a skill upgrade: Parseltongue Deterrence (Intermediate)! You can now use Parseltongue to issue more complex commands to most Reptilian Magical Creatures!]
Chapter 97: Source of the Plague! Hermione's Self-Doubt!
After the Dueling Club incident, Harry Potter became a walking plague in Hogwarts.
Students in the corridors would suddenly turn around and take a detour upon seeing him, as if avoiding a Dragon.
Those who couldn't avoid him would only hug the walls, casting quick glances at him as if looking at a monster.
No one called him by his name anymore.
'That heir,' 'that Parseltongue,' became his new titles.
Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff was the ringleader of the anti-Harry rhetoric.
He spread rumors everywhere that Harry was Lord Voldemort's descendant, that he had killed his own parents to inherit their power, and was now back to purge the school.
This narrative was full of holes, but the evidence of him being a Parseltongue was too solid, and more and more people believed it.
Draco, meanwhile, remained behind the scenes, using Pansy and Blaise as his mouthpieces, occasionally tossing out 'inside information' to add fuel to the farce.
'I heard Potter borrowed a book about Horcruxes from the Restricted Section.'
'Someone saw him use a jinx on Professor Lockhart.'
The half-true rumors made Harry's situation worse by the day.
Changes were also occurring in Gryffindor Tower. Except for Ron, most people were intentionally or unintentionally distancing themselves from him.
Harry spoke less and less, but his temper grew worse and worse.
Even an unintentional look from someone else could send him into a rage.
In the dead of night, he would talk to the walls in a low voice by himself.
Hermione saw all of this and told Draco every word of it through that diary.
Finally, on a snowy afternoon, Hermione's mental state reached its limit.
She found Draco reading in the most remote section of the Library's bookshelves.
'Draco.' Her voice was raspy, and she looked haggard beyond recognition.
Draco put down his book and looked up at her bloodshot eyes.
'Sit.' He pointed to the chair opposite him.
Hermione sat down, her hands twisted together, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word for a long time.
'Parseltongue...' She finally asked the question that had been tormenting her for so long. 'Is it really... the mark of a Dark Wizard? Are there no exceptions?'
Draco didn't answer.
He stood up and pulled several ancient books with blackened covers from the nearby shelf.
'Biographies of Dark Wizards,' 'A Study of Serpent-Speakers,' 'The Secret History of the Gaunt Family.'
He spread the books out in front of Hermione.
'See for yourself.'
Hermione's hands shook slightly as she opened the yellowed pages.
They recorded every notorious Parseltongue Wizard, from Herpo the Foul of Ancient Greece to the demon worshippers of the Middle Ages, and finally to the one whose name must not be mentioned in modern times.
And his maternal family, the direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, the Gaunt family.
The books stated clearly that Parseltongue was a bloodline inheritance of the Gaunt family.
In history, there had never been a Parseltongue from Gryffindor, nor a so-called 'White Wizard' Parseltongue.
The lines of black text were like a hammer, shattering the last bit of hope in Hermione's heart.
Tears fell without warning, blurring a patch of ink on the page.
'Why... why him...' she murmured to herself, lost in thought.
Draco's warm hand covered her cold one.
He sat back down beside her, leaning forward slightly, his gaze terrifyingly serious.
'Granger.' He lowered his voice, with a tone that brooked no refusal. 'You must stay away from him.'
'He's no longer the Harry Potter you know. Something inside him is waking up, and it's getting more dangerous.'
Draco squeezed her hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of it.
'The Chamber of Secrets monster only attacks Muggle-borns. Do you understand what that means?'
Hermione's body shuddered violently.
She of course understood. Madam Norris, Colin Creevey... the next one could very well be her! And the one commanding the monster might be her best friend!
'If he loses control, the first one to get hurt will be you, the mudblood closest to him.'
Draco deliberately used the most harsh word, yet his tone carried a sense of concern.
'I don't want you to get hurt.'
These words struck Hermione's most vulnerable nerve with precision.
Hermione could no longer hold it together; she slumped onto the table and wept suppressedly.
Draco didn't speak; he just sat quietly, his hand still over hers, silently offering support.
After a long time, Hermione's sobbing stopped.
She raised her bloodshot eyes to look at Draco, her gaze filled with a desperate determination.
'The Polyjuice Potion... is almost ready,' she said with a sob. 'Christmas, when most students leave school, is the best opportunity.'
A flicker of approval passed through Draco's eyes, and he asked knowingly, 'What do you want to do?'
'I want to confirm it one last time.' Hermione's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm.
'I will use the Polyjuice Potion to turn into a Slytherin and ask you, to confirm his recent movements and whether he is truly the heir.'
She looked at Draco, a hint of plea in her eyes.
'If... if he really is...' She took a deep breath and said the words that frightened even herself, 'I will choose... to put justice before kinship.'
'I will tell Professor Dumbledore everything I know.'
Draco nodded with satisfaction.
He knew that Hermione, as a chess piece, had completely landed on his board.
The so-called 'telling Dumbledore' would only happen under his guidance.
This clever, loyal Gryffindor Witch was about to become the sharpest blade stabbing savior in the back.
'I understand.' Draco stood up, looking down at her. 'I'll be staying at school for Christmas too; there are some family matters to attend to.'
He paused and added, 'I'll have Crabbe and Goyle"coincidentally" stay in the broom closet on the first floor on Christmas night.'
Hogwarts at Christmas was so quiet that one could hear echoes.
After the feast, Harry and Ron slipped out of the Common Room. Hermione handed them a large cauldron of Polyjuice Potion that looked like black mud.
'The effect only lasts for one hour, so hurry.' Hermione's face was pale, and she still didn't dare to look Harry in the eye.
'We'll wait for you in the girls bathroom on the second floor.'
Harry and Ron, carrying two small cakes laced with a powerful Sleeping Draught, headed toward the broom closet on the first floor.
Sure enough, Crabbe and Goyle were inside, dazed.
As soon as the two saw Harry and Ron, they immediately struck a menacing pose, but upon seeing the cakes, they snatched them and swallowed them without hesitation.
As soon as the cakes went down, their eyes rolled back, and they fell over stiffly.
'I can't believe they actually ate them,' Ron whispered.
The two scrambled to pluck a few hairs and toss them into the Potion bottles. The liquid hissed and quickly turned a disgusting muddy yellow and dark brown.
'Cheers,' Harry said with a bitter smile.
Holding their noses, the two gulped down the gooey Potion.
The next second, their bodies began to melt and twist like wax, and the sound of their bones was enough to set one's teeth on edge.
A few minutes later, standing in their place were the spitting images of Crabbe and Goyle, even their voices becoming coarse and thick.
'This is disgusting,' Ron (as Goyle) muttered, touching his own stupid face with utter disdain.
'Let's go,' Harry (as Crabbe) urged.
The two walked toward the Dungeons, their hearts in their throats.
A passing Slytherin first-year told them the password—'Pure-blood.'
When the stone wall slid open to reveal the cold, ornate green Common Room inside, their palms were drenched in sweat.
Draco Malfoy was sitting alone on the black leather sofa in the center, flipping through a copy of The Daily Prophetby the light of the fireplace.