Ch: 51-57
Chapter 51: Peeves and a Breaking Percy
The excitement in George and Fred's eyes almost overflowed as they watched Draco's performance along the way.
"Fred," George lowered his voice, his eyes shining with the light of discovering a new continent, "I think we were wrong."
Fred closed the small notebook he used to record "observations": "And dead wrong! This isn't just a bit of fun."
"This is a treasure," George added.
"A walking, talking, high-end defense system with a social engineering mind..." Fred licked his lips, as if naming an epoch-making invention.
The two looked at each other and said in unison:
"The Ultimate Prank Testing Platform!"
Harry Potter stood at the edge of this vortex of excitement, but he didn't feel much of it.
"Treasure? Testing platform?" He repeated these two words in his mind, "That Malfoy... just what kind of person is he?"
Ron was completely stunned, his mouth hanging open, as if the world had been turned upside down in these few short minutes.
Hermione looked at the twins with clear disapproval and warning: "Treating a classmate as a 'testing platform' is highly unethical and dangerous rhetoric, Messrs. Weasley."
George and Fred didn't pay Hermione any attention at all, continuing to discuss this new discovery.
"The curtain on a legend has been drawn..."
Lavender sighed happily, as if witnessing the opening of some epic.
"A prince misunderstood by everyone, yet secretly guarding his own dignity; a warrior spat upon by Slytherin, yet accepted by Gryffindor..."
Padma rolled her eyes; Lavender reacted like this every time, and she was long since used to it.
Seamus and Dean exchanged a confused yet excited look.
"Testing platform... what does that mean?" Seamus scratched his head.
"No idea," Dean shrugged, "but if George and Fred say so... that Malfoy, there's probably going to be plenty of 'excitement' to watch from now on."
Neville clutched Trevor and quietly moved to the furthest corner.
He didn't understand those complex words, but the information that "the Weasley twins take Malfoyvery seriously" made his sense of the blond boy's uniqueness rise once again.
Someone targeted by the twins must be very, very extraordinary.
The procession continued forward.
The humiliated Slytherins fell into a brief, dead silence, followed by a suppressed, angry buzzing sound.
They realized that this "traitor" not only had excellent defenses but also precise and vicious counterattacks, and was skilled at utilizing rules and language.
He wasn't a weakling who would just take a beating or complain, nor was he a brute who would lose control and roar on the spot.
The previous harassment had been meant as mockery and punishment, intended to give the traitor a lesson.
But now, it had taken on the formal color of hatred—a need to reclaim their face and uphold the dignity of Slytherin.
They would remember tonight's shame vividly.
To have three attacks easily neutralized by a "traitor" who then turned the tables on them.
They began to conceive more thorough, more malicious, and harder-to-catch revenge plans.
Unfortunately, Draco was completely unaware, and wouldn't have cared if he knew... as Percy led everyone through a door hidden behind a sliding panel and hanging tapestries.
Ron couldn't help but mutter: "I say, why do our dorms have to be hidden so secretly? It's like they're afraid we'll find them! Why not just hang a 'Gryffindor' sign?"
George and Fred looked at each other, their mouths simultaneously widening into the kind of grin they wore when it was time for their favorite part.
"Ah, my dear brother," George looked at Ron playfully, "you've asked about one of the core joys of Hogwarts!"
Fred stood beside him cooperatively, taking up the thread in a dramatic voice: "It is a trial, a tradition, a never-ending game of hide-and-seek!"
"Think about it," George held up a finger, "if every House door was wide open like the toilet door at the Leaky Cauldron, with signs nailed up saying 'Lion's Den' or'Snake Pit'—"
"How dull that would be!" Fred finished, then began to shudder affectedly.
"How lacking in imagination! The charm of Hogwarts lies in its unpredictability. Moving staircases that leave you guessing where you'll end up next, and the secrets behind the portraits..."
"...are treasures known only to our own." George grew more excited as he spoke.
"Passwords change weekly, like a secret language only we understand. It sets you completely apart from those bookworms in Ravenclaw, the goodie-two-shoes in Hufflepuff, and..."
He made a disgusted face: "...those slimy characters in Slytherin."
"So," Fred patted Ron's shoulder, "the secrecy isn't an obstacle, Ron."
"It's a privilege. It means you've been chosen to be part of a thousand-year-old secret. And..."
"It makes night-wandering and exploration ten thousand times more thrilling. Imagine if Filch could just walk straight to the entrance of every Common Room..."
"Then half the fun of our lives would be gone." George beamed.
Percy's back straightened the moment he heard Ron's question, his brow furrowing habitually.
He showed a clear expression of disapproval toward the twins' 'joy theory'.
"Ron, George, Fred," his voice rose over the twins' lingering words as he lectured with the authority of a prefect, "this isn't some 'hide-and-seek'."
He turned to Ron with a very serious expression: "The locations of Hogwarts House Common Rooms and dormitories are kept secret and require passwords for serious safety and management considerations."
"First, to protect the students." Percy held up one finger. "To prevent ill-intentioned individuals from easily entering the core areas of the House, to ensure the safety of students' private property, and to provide a safe gathering place in times of need."
"Second, to maintain House discipline and unity." He held up a second finger. "The password system ensures only students of this House can enter, which strengthens House identity and facilitates management by prefects and the Dean. It prevents..."
He glanced pointedly at the silent Draco in the distance, "...unnecessary inter-House disputes from occurring within the Common Room."
"Third, out of respect for tradition and the founders' intent." He held up a third finger. "The four founders each designed the way to enter their own Houses, reflecting their wisdom and personality."
Listening to Percy's explanation, Harry felt drowsy; he felt Percy was much more long-winded than Dumbledore.
Hermione, however, listened with great interest, her eyes shining with serious light.
"This is by no means child's play, Ron," Percy concluded. "This is the embodiment of Hogwarts' serious magical contracts and ancient wisdom. I hope you can view it with a more proper attitude, rather than just thinking about the... 'thrill of night-wandering'."
He directed the last sentence squarely at the twins.
"Oh, come off it, Percy," George said dismissively. "You can make anything fun sound like Hogwarts School Rules, Appendix Three, Article Twelve."
"'Serious safety considerations'..." Fred mimicked Percy's tone, acting the part. "Right, like preventing Peeves from stealing your homework, or preventing Filch from bursting in to admire your nightcap."
"I am explaining facts!" Percy's face flushed. "While you two are always encouraging rule-breaking and dangerous adventures!"
"Alright, alright, I get it!" Ron, caught in the middle, rolled his eyes. "A secret club that's both safe and fun, right?"
Inwardly, he leaned more toward the twins' explanation—it sounded much more interesting—but he didn't dare contradict Percy openly.
Just then, Percy suddenly stopped, and the few people following closely behind almost crashed into his back.
"What is it?" Ron asked, annoyed.
Percy pointed to a walking stick floating in the air, his expression changing slightly: "It's likely that obnoxious Peeves. You first-years should stay as far away as possible if you see him."
Peeves' sharp, retort-filled voice came from the air: "Hiding is useless! Peeves can walk through walls, so you can't outrun me. Only if you play with me to my heart's content will I consider letting you off!"
The students looked up into the air, but there was nothing besides the walking stick.
Peeves was heard but not seen.
"Don't listen to him," Percy frowned. "As long as you engage with him, he'll pester you endlessly. He only leaves those he finds boring alone."
"It's useless even if you want to deal with him, because he's a ghost; no attack works on him. Even we upperclassmen can't do anything about him."
Hearing Percy's "praise," Peeves popped out of the air with a "pop."
He looked like a little man with grayish-white skin, a large mouth, and wicked black eyes, floating cross-legged in the air.
"Since the Lord prefect 'appreciates' my work so much," Peeves cackled, "then I must work twice as hard so as not to disappoint him!"
"That's Peeves?!" Ron's eyes widened.
"Whatever you do, don't provoke him..." Fred warned.
"He looks even worse than you guys said!" Ron couldn't help but complain.
"My stupid brother," Fred sighed, "telling you not to provoke him means keep your mouth shut."
Peeves laughed: "Haha! It seems you two red-haired troublemakers know your stuff! You've even spread my 'fame' to your little brother at home! You've got an eye for talent!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Peeves emerged from the chandelier directly above Ron like smoke with a "pop," hanging upside down and thrusting his face right up to Ron's nose.
Then he split his large mouth and said in a sickeningly sweet falsetto: "Oh~~~! A new, red-haired little Weasley!! You just said... how 'bad' do I look?"
This not only startled Ron, but many first-years also flinched back a step.
"Peeves, don't hinder us from going to rest," Percy said seriously, "or I'll go find The Bloody Baron."
Peeves acted as if he hadn't heard, floating back and forth over the first-years' heads, then suddenly cackled wickedly: "So the first-years are here, more fun to be had! Wouldn't you say, George, Fred?"
Though it was the truth, George and Fred didn't dare take sides and could only manage a couple of dry laughs.
Suddenly, Peeves seemed to discover something fun and flew over Draco's head, announcing loudly: "Look what I've found, ladies and gentlemen! Ghosts and students! Breaking news! The wonder of the century! A ferret—sorry, a Malfoy—has fallen into the Lion's Den!"
With that, he made up lyrics on the spot and began to sing: "Malfoy is the Gryffindor sheep! Malfoy is the Gryffindor sheep!"
He repeated it over and over, singing with great delight.
"Enough, Peeves!" Percy roared. "Vanish at once, or I'm going to tell The Bloody Baron, and I'm not joking!"
"Bleh bleh bleh—" Peeves stuck out his tongue in mockery and then vanished with a "pop."
The walking stick fell from the air, heading straight for Draco.
Draco reached out and caught the stick steadily, leaning it against the wall.
"Let's go," Percy took a deep breath. "The one Peeves fears most is the ghost, The Bloody Baron."
After just two steps, Peeves popped out from the floor. Percy's foot stopped in mid-air, and he nearly tumbled over.
"Lord prefect," Peeves said with a grin, "just to clarify, I'm not afraid of The Bloody Baron, because he's from Slytherin, and you can't possibly get him to come, hehe."
After pranking Percy, he vanished again.
Leaving behind an incensed Percy, venting his "impotent rage" on the spot:
"Peeves! As a Gryffindor prefect, I register the strongest protest against this! This is a serious violation of school rules! I'm going to report you to Mr. Filch! To Professor McGonagall! To Headmaster Dumbledore! You wait until you're stuffed into the largest broom closet! I swear it!"
These words were harmless to Peeves; they even sounded as sweet as beautiful music.
Everyone looked at each other; they hadn't expected the prefect to be so thoroughly broken. They thought to themselves that Peeves was indeed not to be trifled with.
After he had ranted for a while, Peeves did not reappear.
George said, "prefect, how about we head back and rest first?"
Percy was helpless, a huff of air escaping his nose as he forced himself to calm down.
He could only lecture the first-years a bit to salvage his image: "You must not learn from this Peeves, or you'll become someone everyone dislikes."
This time, Peeves emerged from a side wall: "Speaking ill of me again, Lord prefect? Speaking ill of me again."
Percy struck out angrily with his hand, but Peeves retracted into the wall. Consequently, Percy's hand slammed directly into the wall, making him wince and shake his hand in pain.
George, Fred, and Ron couldn't help but snicker.
"prefect, have you forgotten how you cautioned us?" George couldn't help but speak up.
"That's right," Fred echoed. "Don't get angry with Peeves, or you'll only end up hurting yourself."
"Shut up!" Percy glared at them. "Any more sarcasm toward a prefect and I'll give you detention!"
"Yes, prefect," George and Fred answered in unison, but their smiles were unstoppable.
Percy felt he had lost face, so he kept his head down and walked forward.
Peeves didn't come out to cause any more trouble after that.
[Ding! Original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
However, a flash of inspiration struck Draco...
Chapter 52: Assigning Dormitories
The long walk finally drew to a close.
They climbed flight after flight of stairs, passed through creaking doors, rounded corners and tapestries, and finally reached the end of a corridor.
Hanging there was a massive portrait of a plump lady in a pink silk dress who smiled at them, her eyes holding a hint of scrutiny and a touch of curiosity.
"Password?" The Fat Lady asked in a pleasant voice.
"Caput Draconis," Percy answered clearly.
The portrait swung forward with a wobble, revealing a round hole in the wall.
Percy led the students as they scrambled through it.
After everything they had experienced, the students weren't particularly surprised, as if they had already grown accustomed to Hogwarts' style of hidden mechanisms everywhere.
"There's more than just this one password," Percy explained to the first-years as he entered, "so we don't have to worry about leaks."
Draco thought to himself that prefect Percy was taking another jab at him.
How naturally and smoothly he had said the word 'leaks.'
However, he was indeed doing his duty conscientiously; at least when it came to maintaining Gryffindor's safety, he was truly sincere.
After giving Draco a warning, Percy continued: "The password can only be found on the notice board in the Common Room. Remember, you must check it regularly, otherwise if the password changes, you won't be able to enter the dormitory."
The first-years all nodded. Someone subconsciously glanced back at the portrait that had just closed, as if trying to firmly commit this entrance to memory.
Once inside, they were in the Gryffindor Common Room.
The warm air, mixed with the crackle of burning logs, the musty scent of old Parchment, and the cloying sweetness of candy, rushed toward them, leaving the first-years in a bit of a daze.
Scarlet and gold banners hung from the ceiling, the fireplace had a fire roaring, armchairs were soft and comfortable, and several round tables were scattered around, with leftover candy wrappers and open books still on them.
"Quiet! First-years, over here!"
Percy's voice was like a precisely cut spell, slicing through the noise.
He had already moved to stand before the massive stone fireplace, slapping the edge of a nearby bookshelf with his palm. His prefect badge reflected silver light in the firelight.
The clamor quickly subsided like a receding tide.
Whether it was Ron slumped in a soft chair, Neville standing nervously next to Harry, or Hermione who had already pulled out a small notebook, they all subconsciously straightened their backs and looked in that direction.
Draco didn't move, merely shifting his gaze slowly toward Percy.
"First, and most importantly," Percy's voice was very clear, ensuring everyone could hear him.
"You are absolutely forbidden from telling the Common Room password to students from other houses. Try not to discuss it in public. The password changes every Monday and will be posted on the notice board on time."
His gaze swept across the room, and when mentioning other houses, it naturally bypassed the isolated figure standing by the door.
"Strictly observe curfew. After nine o'clock at night, you are not to wander the Castle. Mr. Filch and the patrolling Professors will not be kind to rule-breakers, and Gryffindor will lose points because of it."
Percy's tone was flat, yet it carried the weight of iron.
"Your luggage has already been sent to the dormitories. Boys use the stairs on the left, girls on the right. Entering the girls' dormitory is strictly forbidden. The stairs are enchanted; the consequences of violating this... you wouldn't want to experience."
As he spoke, he glared at George and Fred, who were on the other side of the fireplace trying to build a tower with chocolate frog cards.
"Finally, the fireplace is for heating only. It is strictly forbidden to throw in any unknown magical items or... food."
The twins shrugged innocently, casually pushing over the half-built 'tower,' which collapsed with a crisp clatter.
"Schedules will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow. Please familiarize yourselves with the classroom locations beforehand. The stairs at Hogwarts..." Percy paused, seemingly recalling his own awkwardness as a first-year, "...have a personality of their own and might make you late. But being late is unacceptable."
Percy continued speaking: Library rules, the duties of a prefect, the location of Professor McGonagall's office, Nearly Headless Nick, the purpose of the notice board... "...everything you do will affect Gryffindor's house cup points." At this point, Percy's voice suddenly became even more serious.
His gaze swept across again, this time clearly lingering on Draco's face for half a second. "I hope to see our hourglass full at the end of the year."
A brief pause.
"You are now members of Gryffindor," Percy said somewhat stiffly. "That means upholding the house's honor. If you encounter difficulties... you can ask your classmates and prefects for help."
"Now," Percy said finally, "you may go to the dormitories. Boys on the left, girls on the right. Goodnight!"
"Finally over..." Ron muttered with relief, grabbing Harry and rushing toward the spiral staircase on the left.
Seamus and Dean followed with a laugh.
Neville, clutching Trevor, jogged after them, nearly tripping on the stairs.
Hermione carefully closed her notebook, gave a slight nod in Percy's direction, and then walked quickly toward the stairs on the right, her gaze pensively sweeping past Draco who was still standing in place.
The crowd was like a receding tide, surging toward the stairs on both sides and quickly disappearing into the rotating stone steps.
In the warm and cluttered Common Room, only the continuous crackling of the fireplace, the whispers of a few older students nestled in distant armchairs, and the standing Draco remained.
Draco waited until everyone who was going up had disappeared before he stepped onto the spiral staircase.
Each floor of the staircase was assigned to a year, and the doorframe at each entrance had a plaque indicating which year it was for.
Draco walked up to the seventh level before the plaque showed 'First Year.'
It seemed the previous seventh-year class had just graduated from this floor, leaving behind empty dormitories that just happened to accommodate this batch of new students.
There were four dormitories and one Restroom inside.
The names of the occupants were written on the left side of the dormitory doors.
Draco was assigned to the same dormitory as Harry and Ron, with Neville and Seamus as his other roommates.
[Ding! Original plot added, luck value +20!]
From outside the door, Draco could already hear Ron's complaints from within.
"Mer— Merlin's saggy left boot!" He gasped, his voice sounding particularly jarring in the suddenly deathly silent room, "Is he really... staying with us?!"
Draco pushed the door open and entered.
The soft creak of the door hinges brought the commotion in the room to a screeching halt.
Four people turned their heads simultaneously.
Draco walked in.
The air in the room froze instantly.
Four pairs of eyes were pinned squarely on him.
The smile on Ron's face froze, as if someone had suddenly pressed the pause button.
Draco's gaze swept across the room and found the bed with his name carved on the bedpost.
Without pausing, he walked straight over.
His leather shoes stepped on the carpet, silent and soundless.
Finally, he sat down on the edge of his bed.
Dead silence.
Only the distant crackle of the fireplace flames from the Common Room could be faintly heard, sounding exceptionally clear in this narrow space.
In the end, it was Draco who broke the silence.
"Hello there," Draco said, looking at them. "We'll be roommates from now on."
As he spoke, he quite normally took out his wand and his shrunken trunk, using the 'Engorgement Charm' to restore the trunk to its original size.
The trunk gave a soft thud on the carpet, making a dull sound.
But those words were like a small pebble thrown into a frozen lake.
Ron was the first to react.
He first blinked in disbelief, and then let out a short, mocking "Ha!" of a sneer.
"Did you hear that, Harry?" He turned to Harry beside him.
Then Ron's voice suddenly rose, filled with exaggerated mockery: "Our noble, new roommate is greeting us! 'Hello there'— Merlin, I thought he only knew how to look at people through his nostrils for the rest of his life!"
Harry didn't respond immediately.
He was looking at Draco, his eyes filled with complex emotions.
Those words were too simple, too 'normal.' It didn't seem like an olive branch, but more like... some kind of probe? Or, a clumsy attempt to establish the most basic of connections?
Whichever it was, it made him feel deeply uneasy.
"What is he trying to do?" Harry whispered to Ron, though it sounded more like he was asking himself.
"What is he doing? Putting on an act!" Ron spat, "Does he think by speaking like a human we'll forget who he is? Forget the things his family has done? In his dreams!"
Seamus nudged Neville with his elbow, lowering his voice, his face filled with the excitement of someone watching a spectacle unfold: "Hey, he actually spoke. I thought he was planning to be a mute statue all night."
But for Neville, the moment he heard that "Hello there," it was as if he had been hit by a weak electric current.
He couldn't respond to Seamus at all.
He gave a violent shudder, and Trevor fell from his arms with a "plop" onto the carpet, hopping away to escape.
Neville's face instantly lost all color, then turned bright red, then went pale again.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, only the faint sound of a sharp intake of breath.
He said 'hello' to us.
This realization was like a giant boulder pressing down on Neville's chest.
He said 'hello' just now... Sh-should I say something back? Say 'Hello, Malfoy'?
No, I can't! Ron would kill me! But if I don't... it's too rude, Grandma said... oh, Merlin!
The extreme anxiety made Neville almost choke.
Trevor had hopped to his feet, but he didn't even dare to grab him.
Draco remained indifferent to Ron's mockery, as if it were merely a gust of wind blowing outside the window.
Silence fell over the dormitory again, save for the sound of Draco tidying his things.
Taking out the items he needed one by one, Draco used a 'Scourgify' charm, letting his clothes and books return to their places automatically, neatly arranged on the bedside table and bookshelf.
His movements were clean and efficient, without a hint of hesitation.
"Do you need any help?" Draco asked casually, his gaze sweeping over their pile of luggage still spread out on the floor.
Ron looked as if he'd been pricked by a needle and snapped his head up: "Help us?! With that little stick of yours?! Malfoy, did a Troll step on your head and you haven't woken up yet? Who wants your help! Stay away from our things! Heaven knows what kind of nasty jinxes you'd put on them!"
Neville shook his head frantically, while Harry and Seamus also looked wary, as if the tip of Draco's wand might spit out something terrifying at any moment.
"It seems you don't," Draco said flatly.
With that, he took his change of clothes and turned to leave the dormitory, heading to the Restroom at the end of the corridor to wash up and prepare for bed.
The door closed softly behind Draco, shutting out those complex and guarded gazes.
Tomorrow was the real hurdle that needed attention.
And the hardest one to pass.
Chapter 53: Discussions in the Girls' Dormitory
After Draco left, the emotions in the boys' dormitory, which had been forcibly suppressed, surged up all at once like steam from a pot when the lid is lifted.
Ron stared blankly at the closed door for several seconds.
Then he let out a long breath he had been holding.
"'Seems you won't have to'?!" he almost roared, his voice still carrying unvented anger. "What... what kind of attitude is that?! As if we've let down his 'kindness'! What a pretender! Who wants his help anyway!"
As he spoke, Ron waved his arms, as if trying to shake off all the frustration he had been holding back.
However, he soon realized that the dormitory didn't share his sense of shared indignation.
Harry was a bit distracted, his gaze still lingering on the edge of the bed where Draco had just been sitting, as if he were reminiscing about something.
Seamus had already started unpacking his luggage, hanging his clothes in the wardrobe one by one, only giving a token "mm" in response to Ron's outburst.
Neville was crouching on the floor, flustered, chasing after Trevor while muttering something under his breath.
In the face of such lukewarm responses, Ron's shouting felt a bit hollow.
Feeling slighted, he muttered a few words about it being "bad luck" and pulled over his own trunk to start unpacking.
Conversation in the dormitory became sparse; everyone was buried in their own tasks, yet they couldn't help but glance at the door from time to time.
They were all waiting for Draco to return.
Even if they claimed not to care, they all understood in their hearts.
This blonde boy who had suddenly burst into their world had unknowingly become the most conspicuous presence in this dormitory.
After a while, the door hinges let out a very slight "creak" as it was pushed open.
The moment the door opened, Ron flipped over abruptly, slamming his back onto the bed frame with a dull thud, as if to express his disdain and resistance through this action.
Draco softened his movements, entering quietly and closing the door gently behind him.
He didn't look at anyone, nor did he make any unnecessary noise.
At that moment, Harry was pulling the curtains around his bed, preparing to sleep.
His hand stopped in mid-air.
He remained half-upright, his eyes following Draco's figure without blinking in the dim light.
From the door to the bedside, to the way he set down his toiletry bag, every detail was firmly locked in Harry's sight.
Only after a while did he slowly and silently lie back down.
But the curtains weren't fully closed; a thin gap remained.
Through that gap, his gaze lingered on Draco's bed for a long time.
Draco walked to his bed, spread out his bedding, and put his pajamas and toiletry bag into the cabinet without making any unnecessary noise.
Then he lay down, pulled his curtains shut, lifted the duvet, and climbed in.
"I'm exhausted," Ron said loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. "We have classes tomorrow! Some people better be sensible and not make any noise!"
This was obviously directed at Draco.
Finally, the dormitory fell into silence.
However, beneath this silence, no one's heart was at peace.
Ignoring Ron, Draco quietly opened the system's exchange mall while under his covers.
A pale blue light screen unfolded in his mind, with lines of text and icons appearing.
His gaze stopped on the Marauders Map.
"Exchange."
He clicked "Exchange" in his mind.
The light screen flashed, and a small Parchment map appeared in his storage slot.
[Prompt: Manifest immediately?]
"No."
He planned to take it out tomorrow morning to deal with any potential issues of getting lost on the first day of classes.
Draco really wanted his roommates to go with him to prevent them from going to the wrong classroom or being late.
That way, he could also earn a bit more luck value.
But with Ron, that annoying jerk of a shit-stirrer, around, he knew very well that he wouldn't be able to get along with his other roommates for the time being.
"Maybe later," he sighed internally. "If they're late, there's nothing I can do."
...Meanwhile, in the girls' dormitory, things were just as restless.
Hermione, Lavender, Parvati Patil, and the low-profile Olivia shared a room.
Lavender Brown put a sparkling headband into her drawer and spoke up impatiently: "Oh, Merlin, did you see that? Everything tonight! It was like a dream! I mean, the Sorting Hat! And... him!"
Lavender said the word "him" both lightly and heavily, with an unspeakable excitement.
Parvati was also carefully putting away a pair of beautiful earrings: "Of course! 'Gryffindor'! I almost swallowed my tongue! Do you think the hat malfunctioned? Or did the Malfoy family cast some kind of Confundo on it as a prank?"
After changing into her conservative cotton pajamas, Hermione sat on her bed, flipping quickly through hogwarts: a history without looking up: "According to existing records, the Sorting Hat is a product of the magic of the four founders, and there has never been a reliable record of external magicsuccessfully interfering with it in a thousand years."
"The probability of a Confundo is less than 0.3%. It's more likely that the hat reached an unexpected conclusion based on its internal criteria. We need more observational data."
Olivia sat on her bed by the window, tidying her schoolbag while saying calmly: "I'm more curious about what he'll do next. You saw it—the looks the Slytherins gave him could freeze him solid, and on our side..."
She glanced at Lavender, "...not everyone is welcoming him either."
"Welcoming? I'm practically worshipping!" Lavender turned excitedly to face the others. "You don't understand! It wasn't a malfunction or a prank! It was destiny! The hat saw his true heart! A noble soul trapped in the wrong family and expectations!"
Her voice trembled slightly with excitement, but her eyes held a nearly devout certainty.
"Really? Lavender, you seem to know something? Tell us!" Parvati was immediately intrigued.
Hermione finally looked up from her book, her brow slightly furrowed: "Miss Brown, it's very imprecise to simplify complex issues of social identity and perception into 'destiny' and 'noble souls' without solid evidence."
"We know almost nothing about him. The only verifiable facts are that he used 'Lumos' in the tunnel, and..."
She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking: "He seemed to find Longbottom's toad through some means."
"See!" Lavender immediately seized on this. "He helped! Giving everyone light in the darkness and helping Neville find his pet! Doesn't that prove he's kind at heart?"
"And didn't you see how he handled those Slytherins in the corridor later? So calm, so... dignified! Like an exiled prince facing the malice of the whole world alone!"
Parvati was swept up in it, cupping her face in her hands, her eyes sparkling: "Oh, now that you mention it... the way he walked over, his back so straight, his face so pale and fragile... it's a bit heart-wrenching."
"And he really is quite handsome, if only he weren't always so cold."
Olivia gave a light chuckle, her tone practical: "Good looks won't put food on the table, nor will they save him from being ostracized by both houses. I heard the Weasley twins were making fun of him in the corridor. Living in the boys' dormitory might be tough for him."
Hermione nodded: "That's exactly the point. Regardless of Malfoy's personal qualities, he has been placed in a position of extreme conflict."
"This isn't just a personal predicament; it's a miniature social experiment. His response will directly affect the internal dynamics of Gryffindor and even the relations between the houses."
"We need to observe several key points: how he handles classes, whether he tries to fit in, the reaction from Slytherin, and..."
"Whether he shows any special attention to Mr. Potter, whether for good or ill."
Lavender was completely immersed in her own fantasy, clasping her hands: "He will surely maintain his pride and solitude! Until someone can see through his cold exterior and touch his burning heart... perhaps that person is in Gryffindor..."
After saying this, she looked around the dormitory meaningfully.
Parvati immediately giggled: "Lavender, you're not thinking—"
"I'm just stating a possibility," Lavender said solemnly, though she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes.
Olivia interrupted their gossip, bringing the topic back to reality: "More than that, I want to know how he's getting to the Great Hall tomorrow morning?"
"A good observation point. It will be an important signal of his attitude—whether he's accepting reality or passively resisting," Hermione agreed.
Parvati's curiosity shifted: "What do you think he's doing in the boys' dormitory right now? If he's in the same room as Harry, Merlin, imagine that scene! Ron is definitely cursing, Harry probably doesn't know what to do, and Neville is likely terrified..."
Lavender sighed softly: "He must be so lonely... lying in a strange bed, listening to others breathe... oh, it's so tragic, so romantic..."
"Romanticizing the suffering of others is unethical, Miss Brown." Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly. "What we should focus on now is tomorrow's schedule and how to find our classrooms. Also, I suggest we get some rest early to have enough energy for the first day of school."
Olivia agreed: "Hermione's right. Whether Malfoy is a prince or a conspirator, we have our own lives to live tomorrow. But..."
She paused, a smile playing on her lips. "I bet at breakfast tomorrow, everyone will be staring at him to see if he's wearing a red tie."
"He will," Lavender said firmly. "Maybe not tomorrow, but one day, he will accept his true self and the... redemption that Gryffindor offers him."
With that, she climbed into bed and pulled up the duvet, a dreamy smile on her face as if she had already played out the stories of the next few years in her head.
Parvati also lay down and whispered: "I still think this whole thing is so strange... but it's definitely interesting. Let's wait and see."
Hermione checked her books for tomorrow one last time, and after confirming everything was in order, she turned off her lamp: "Whether it's interesting or not, remember, we are here to learn. Good night."
The lights in the dormitory went out one by one.
Chapter 54: The Old Man Is Coming
The mornings at Hogwarts always arrived silently.
The sky outside the tower had just begun to show a sliver of fish-belly white. Morning mist rolled gently over the lake, and the Castle's stone walls took on a soft grey hue in the faint light.
Most students were still deep in sleep. Only a few early-rising Owls swooped past the windows, leaving behind crisp, clear calls.
Yet, in this seemingly tranquil moment, the heart of Hogwarts...
...the Headmaster's Office was already seething with undercurrents.
Lucius stood by the large French window, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark robe, his blonde hair combed immaculately, his expression cold and stern.
His gaze pierced through the glass, settling on the distant Black Forest shrouded in thin mist, as if he saw something displeasing there.
"Albus," he finally spoke, "you should understand this is not a trivial matter to be laughed off."
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, wearing his usual gentle smile, but his eyes were exceptionally alert.
He slowly set down the Quill in his hand, interlaced his fingers, and said softly, "Lucius, the Sorting Hat's choice has always been based on a student's inner qualities, not family expectations. Draco being sorted into Gryffindor is, in itself, a matter worthy of... deep thought."
"Deep thought?" Lucius sneered. "I'm more inclined to believe this was a serious accident. That hat—"
He paused, seeming to struggle to suppress his emotions, "—is either malfunctioning or has been tampered with."
Dumbledore did not refute immediately. He merely picked up a lemon drop from the desk and slowly unwrapped it. "The hat was on your son's head, Lucius. It heard his thoughts, his fears, his desires. You did not."
Lucius's face paled slightly.
At that moment, the office door was gently knocked.
"Come in," said Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall entered, her expression very serious.
She gave a slight nod to Dumbledore, then looked at Lucius with a calm and polite gaze. "Mr. Malfoy."
"Professor McGonagall," Lucius nodded slightly in return.
Dumbledore gave a slight nod to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, please go and ask Classmate Draco Malfoy to come here."
Professor McGonagall immediately replied, "Of course, Headmaster."
She turned and left the office.
In the corridor, the morning air still held a slight chill.
Professor McGonagall soon found Percy, who was patrolling nearby.
"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall's voice was tense. "Please go to Gryffindor Tower immediately and bring Mr. Malfoy here. Alone. Do not cause any unnecessary commotion."
Percy stiffened at this task.
But he immediately straightened his spine, his voice carrying a near-mechanical obedience. "Yes, Professor!"
With that, he turned and strode quickly towards the stairs.
Percy walked swiftly and discreetly, trying his best not to attract attention.
But to others, his hurried demeanor looked more like someone with a guilty conscience.
Especially to certain individuals.
"Morning, Percy!"
A familiar voice came from around the corridor corner.
George grinned, poking his head out from behind the wall, with Fred close behind.
The two emerged instantly, like hounds catching the scent of blood.
"In such a hurry?" George raised an eyebrow. "Got a 'prefect-Only Emergency Mission'?"
Percy stared straight ahead. "None of your business. Move aside!"
Fred immediately slung an arm over Percy's shoulder, who shook it off without ceremony.
"Don't be so standoffish, brother," Fred said with a laugh. "Judging by your direction... heading back to the tower? Couldn't be to fetch our esteemed new classmate, could it?"
He winked at George.
Percy's face darkened. "I said, move aside! This is Professor McGonagall's order!"
"Perfect!" George clapped his hands. "We also need to go back to the tower to fetch some 'things'."
He winked at Fred.
"Let's go together, Head Boy," George said with a smile. "We promise not to interfere with your official duties, unless you need an honor guard."
Percy knew he couldn't shake them off and was afraid of wasting time. He could only issue a stern warning: "No mischief! No talking! Just follow!"
Then, he quickened his pace.
Thus, a peculiar sight appeared in the Hogwarts morning:
A stern, stiffly walking prefect, Percy, hurried ahead, followed by two tiptoeing, winking and grimacing twins, George and Fred, who looked like circus clowns... The Fat Lady had just been roused by Percywith the new password and was still a bit bleary-eyed.
"You again?" she yawned. "Morning, Weasleys."
Percy quickly slipped through the portrait hole, and the twins slid in after him like eels.
"One at a time! Rules!" The Fat Lady complained behind them, but it was only a token grumble.
Only a few early-rising upperclassmen were in the Common Room, looking surprised as the prefectheaded straight for the boys' dormitory stairs.
Percy knocked on the first-year boys' dormitory door.
Inside, Harry and Ron were probably just waking up, Seamus was yawning, and Neville was looking for a sock.
Draco, who was nearest the door, opened it.
He was met with Percy's face, etched with official business.
"Malfoy," Percy's voice sounded especially cold and hard in the quiet dormitory. "Professor McGonagallwants to see you immediately. Get dressed and come with me. Now."
The dormitory fell deathly silent.
Ron's sleepiness vanished completely, his eyes wide as saucers.
Harry sat bolt upright.
Seamus turned his head.
Neville dropped the sock in his hand.
Percy addressed them all. "There's no need for alarm, everyone. This is merely a procedural meeting to clarify any... administrative misunderstandings that may have arisen from last night's Sorting results. Malfoy will be afforded full opportunity for legal counsel."
"Alright," Draco replied calmly.
He quickly got dressed and followed Percy out.
"You're in big trouble, little Malfoy."
As soon as they left the Common Room, George's voice came from beside them.
Draco glanced at him coolly. "What kind of trouble?"
The professional commentator expression on George's face froze instantly.
He hadn't expected Draco to respond at all.
He and Fred raised their eyebrows in perfect, brief synchrony, exchanging a look of surprise.
This unexpected turn didn't fluster them; instead, it ignited an even fiercer creative spark.
George quickly hid his astonishment, replacing it with a more 'grave' and 'in-the-know' expression.
"What kind of trouble? My dear friend, this isn't your ordinary father picking up his son from school. This is..."
He paused for effect. "This is a crisis management hearing for the Malfoy family's century-old reputation, combined with the ultimate stress test for the thousand-year authority of Hogwarts' Sorting system."
"And you," he continued, "are the unlucky test subject standing on the volcano, suspected of having brought the matches."
Fred immediately picked up seamlessly, leaning in from the other side to add, "Translation: Your dad thinks that old hat has either gone mad or been cursed, causing it to mistakenly toss their brightest silver-green jewel into the Lion's den of... well, Gryffindor."
"I suspect his goal is likely to conduct an on-site quality inspection, argue for a product defect, and demand a refund, or at the very least, a repackaging."
"George! Fred!"
Percy stopped dead in his tracks, whirling around. His face was flushed with suppressed anger.
"I warned you to keep quiet! This is not your comedy broadcast hour! Nor is it the place for spreading baseless speculation and... vulgar analogies!"
After berating the twins, he turned to Draco. "Malfoy, do not listen to their groundless fantasies. Your father is discussing important matters with the Headmaster. Professor McGonagall merely requires your presence."
Draco did not respond to Percy. Instead, he addressed George and Fred. "Then the situation is indeed serious. Will you help me?"
George and Fred both stopped walking, stunned.
They turned their heads in perfect sync, staring at the back of Draco's head as if he had just spoken fluent Runes.
"Is he serious? Or is he messing with us?" George whispered.
"Doesn't seem like messing. Too calm," Fred analyzed. "It's more like... negotiating terms."
The two almost simultaneously started walking again, catching up to Draco, but their posture had changed.
No longer were they escorts or commentators; they now resembled two business consultants presented with an unbelievable proposal by a potential client.
George spoke first, his tone a mix of disbelief and keen interest. "Help you? Malfoy, do you realize who you're making this... uh... 'cooperation proposal' to? We're Weasleys."
"Red hair, freckles, a Ghoul in the attic, and if I recall correctly, you probably considered us 'blood traitors' and close relatives of 'Ginger Weasels' about ten minutes ago."
Fred leaned in from the other side to analyze. "Define 'help.' Help you deal with your dad? Help you stay in Gryffindor?"
He paused meaningfully. "Different objectives come with completely different price tags and risk levels. And, the form of our 'help'... might be somewhat unconventional."
"George! Fred! Shut up this instant!"
Percy could bear it no longer. He stepped between the twins and Draco, arms spread wide like a wall trying to block a plague, his face flushed crimson.
He glared fiercely at the twins first, his voice hissing through clenched teeth. "I order you, by the authority of a prefect, to stop right here, immediately, and do not follow another step! One more step and I'll deduct fifty points from Gryffindor! Each! And I'll report you to Professor McGonagall at once for attempting to coerce a classmate and engage in improper dealings!"
Then he whipped around to face Draco, his eyes filled with offended wariness. "Malfoy! Do not respond to anything they say! They are... they are unreasonable! Come with me, now, immediately! If you don't want to land yourself in even bigger trouble than you're already in!"
The twins, the moment Percy erupted, jumped back a step in perfect sync, hands raised in surrender, their faces wearing exaggerated expressions of mingled shock and innocence.
"Whoa, alert level upgraded, code red!" George said to Fred, but made sure Percy could hear.
"Detecting maximum-level bureaucratic contamination," Fred nodded in sync. "Recommend emergency evacuation of all humor."
Then, they both tilted their heads at the same angle, frowning and looking at Percy as if examining a strange new magical creature.
"'Coercion'?" George said, using a serious, academic-discussion tone. "Fred, did we 'coerce' anyone just now? I seem to recall someone actively making a... uh... 'business consultation request'?"
"'Improper dealings'?" Fred said with equal seriousness. "We haven't even named a price yet! Percy, slander requires evidence. At most, we were... providing free preliminary market analysis and risk assessment. That's practically charity."
"Forget it," Draco suddenly spoke up.
He looked down the corridor ahead. "I'm supposed to go to the Headmaster's Office. Are you coming?"
George and Fred exchanged a look.
"Seriously, Malfoy," George finally said, dropping some of the jest as he looked at Draco. "That 'invitation' of yours takes some nerve. If we actually go with you, that means the three of us are officially tying ourselves together in front of Percy, your dad, and the Old Bee."
"The price for this 'help' wouldn't be as simple as 'product testing' anymore. Are you sure you want to place such a heavy bet?"
Fred nodded, also serious for a moment. "Once we appear outside that door, it means the Weasley twins are 'officially' involved in Malfoy family business."
"That might cause a bit of trouble for our future 'business ventures.' For example, your dad might put us on his 'undesirables list.'"
"Of course, we don't care about that. But we need to know: Do you understand what this means?"
Percy was utterly defeated.
"Absurd! Shameless! Unreasonable!" he repeated incoherently. "Are you discussing a deal with a Malfoy?! This is Hogwarts, not Knockturn Alley!"
He tried to shield Draco with his body while issuing a final, probably now toothless, ultimatum to the twins. "I'll say it one more time! Do not follow! Otherwise—"
"Just kidding," Draco suddenly said.
He looked ahead, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching the corner of his mouth. "I don't have the nasty habit of playing pranks on others."
With that, he didn't look at anyone else, took a step, and continued walking forward.
He didn't even wait for anyone's reaction, including the nearly apoplectic Percy.
[Ding! Original plotline increased. luck value +20!]
The system's notification chimed in his mind.
Chapter 55: The Guy Who's Happy Even After Being Played
Behind Draco, however, the air suddenly froze solid.
Regarding Draco's prank, both George and Fred found their systems crashing.
In that instant, the eager, ready-to-go expressions on their faces were brutally erased as if by a rubber, leaving behind nothing but undisguised astonishment.
They opened their mouths, then closed them in perfect sync, like two fish suddenly thrown ashore, left with nothing but futile gaping.
"'A joke'?!"
"'A mischievous whim without a prank'?!"
These two phrases exploded in their minds like two colliding Spells.
"He was... just now... messing with us?!" The same thought surfaced simultaneously in both their hearts.
The twins' brains replayed everything that had just happened at an unprecedented speed.
George's gaze swiftly shifted from shock to disbelief: "He was... controlling the tempo from start to finish. He used a proposal we absolutely couldn't refuse as bait, watched us take it, and then... reeled us in, calling it a 'joke'?"
Fred's eyes, after a brief blankness, revealed a complex mix of frustration and intense admiration.
"Merlin's beard... He took what we're best at—using absurdity to control a situation—and used it on us, and used it... damn brilliantly."
They almost simultaneously reached the same conclusion:
This wasn't backing down, nor fear, nor a last-minute change of heart.
This was a perfect bout of social fencing.
They had been checkmated, and their opponent had won cleanly, leaving no room for criticism.
Astonishment quickly faded, replaced by an extremely complex emotion:
Intense frustration.
Extreme unwillingness to accept defeat.
And, soaring to a brand-new height, a thick, profound interest.
Along with a sliver of excitement at having 'met one's match.'
In unison, the two crossed their arms. They didn't try to chase after him, nor did they speak again.
They simply stood quietly where they were, watching Draco walk towards the end of the corridor.
"...He's a genius, Fred."
George said in a voice only Fred could hear, his tone carrying a kind of gritted-teeth excitement.
"An evil, icy genius who plays with people's hearts in the palm of his hand."
Fred slowly nodded.
"We were wrong, George, dead wrong! This isn't some pitiful creature needing 'help,' nor someone looking for a 'deal.' This is... a player."
Fred then paused, a dangerous smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "A top-tier player who just used our own game rules, in our most familiar territory, to toy with us."
George grinned, revealing a smile full of challenge. "Game difficulty just jumped from 'Easy' straight to 'Epic Challenge.' I like it."
"And he just unilaterally declared," Fred continued, "that he doesn't engage in 'low-brow humor' like 'pranks.' That means if we want to 'play' with him, we have to level up our game."
He watched Draco's retreating back, the light in his eyes growing brighter. "This is ten thousand times more interesting than watching a fight in the Headmaster's Office."
After Draco walked off on his own, Percy didn't immediately follow.
He stood frozen in place for two seconds, his eyes vacant, as if he still hadn't recovered from the series of shocks.
He had always thought he was the one in control of the situation.
The prefect, responsible for order, for explaining the rules, for pulling his brothers out of trouble.
But what had just happened made him realize clearly for the first time:
In this invisible, smoke-free contest, he was neither a player nor a pawn, but more like a chessboard divider casually pushed aside.
Percy finally followed with somewhat unsteady steps. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately, nothing came out.
He no longer tried to speak, nor did he try to control Draco.
He was like a prefect's shell with its soul sucked out, only wanting to complete the bare minimum task of delivering Draco to the Headmaster's Office.
And then escape this scene that had shattered his dignity and scrambled his logic.
At the corridor corners, on the staircases, beside portraits, a few early-rising students had gathered.
They might not have heard the entire conversation, but from the suddenly frozen air, from the twins' expressions, from Percy's discomposure, they roughly understood one thing:
Something major had happened.
"Was that... Malfoy inviting the Weasley twins to the Headmaster's Office? As an 'emotional support group'?"
A Ravenclaw girl whispered, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"'A joke'? In that kind of situation?" Another pushed up her glasses. "That doesn't fit the Malfoy family's usual behavior pattern..."
"the Weasley twins' reaction was telling too." A third student chimed in. "They were actually considering it seriously... Percy looked utterly lost."
"More data is required."
Someone said, closing their notebook.
"This seems to involve multiple layers: family politics, house conflict, and personal psychology."
"Merlin, Percy Weasley looks so pitiful..."
A Hufflepuff couldn't help but say, watching Percy's back. "He looks like he's about to cry."
"How can Malfoy still joke around like that?"
Another scratched their head. "Isn't his father here?"
"George and Fred are really something..." Someone sighed with a hint of amusement. "Always finding a way to stir things up."
"But, Malfoy's final line..."
One student frowned thoughtfully. "Wasn't that a direct jab at them? I thought they were on the same side?"
"Who knows," another shrugged. "It's Hogwarts. More drama than the village market, even this early."
Lavender Brown, who had just been complaining about the early hour, now stood with her hands clasped to her chest. A blush spread across her cheeks, a mixture of worry, admiration, and deepening infatuation.
"Oh! I knew it!"
She breathed excitedly. "In the face of such pressure, from his own family no less, he didn't cower or show fear! He used his wit as a weapon!"
Imitating Draco's tone, she softly repeated: "'Just a joke.'"
"What incredible composure! To maintain elegance and wield sharp sarcasm even in a dire situation... it's like those courtiers in history who used words as daggers against tyrants!"
Hermione, who had been checking her schedule, snapped her head up at these words. A sharp glint flashed in her eyes, her brow furrowing tightly.
"Olivia analyzed, "If he can genuinely joke about the Weasley twins and Percy on his way to see his father and the Headmaster... there are only two possibilities: either he's so scared he's lost his mind, or he simply doesn't care what happens. Or... a third option: he believes he's in control."
She leaned against the railing, watching the distant figures. "I'm leaning towards the third. He knows exactly what he's doing. He's testing boundaries, and sending a signal to everyone."
Pausing, Olivia's lips curved into a knowing smile as she finished the thought. "'Don't mistake me for an ordinary Malfoy.'"
Parvati was fully immersed in the gossip-fueled excitement. "Regardless, this is thrilling! More exciting than any scoop in *The Witch Weekly*!"
"What do you think? Is his father raging in the Headmaster's Office right now? What will Malfoy say? Will his father drag him home? Or will Professor Dumbledore protect him?"
Hermione didn't answer.
Her gaze followed Draco until that head of blond hair disappeared around a corner.
"If he can truly remain that calm under such pressure..."
She thought to herself,
"...then he's either a madman, or an extremely dangerous person."
And either possibility was enough to place him firmly at the very top of her list of people to watch closely.
Chapter 56: Settling Pansy
The stone walls of the corridor gleamed coldly in the faint morning light, and footsteps echoed with particular clarity in the silence.
Now it was Draco following Percy as they made their way forward.
Turning a corner, two familiar figures suddenly appeared ahead—Goyle and Vincent.
They stood right in the middle of the corridor like two misplaced stone blocks, blocking the way.
One was tall and stocky, the other lean and tall, yet both looked at Draco with equal nervousness.
Draco stopped before them, his gaze sweeping over their faces.
"How's it going," Draco began casually, "settling into Slytherin?"
Goyle's eyes reddened, his voice thick with unshed tears: "It's alright... just missed you, big brother."
Draco was torn between amusement and exasperation: "It's only been one night, is that really necessary?"
Vincent quickly chimed in: "Days without following you and learning from you are just too hard."
Draco didn't respond to their sentiment, his smile fading slightly as he grew serious: "While you're in Slytherin, behave yourselves, understand? If anyone speaks ill of me, don't argue. Protecting yourselves is most important. Otherwise, how will you follow me and do great things later?"
Vincent nodded, his voice firm: "We understand, big brother."
Goyle, however, scratched his head somewhat discontentedly: "But I just can't help wanting to argue a few words..."
"Absolutely not." Draco cut him off. "Remember, now is not the time for empty bravado. If you cause trouble, I'm in Gryffindor and won't be able to help you much."
After a pause, Draco softened his tone: "But if anyone deliberately provokes you, come find me. Even though I'm not in Slytherin, I'll definitely deal with them."
Goyle's eyes lit up: "If only we could be sorted into Gryffindor..."
As soon as he said this, a fine layer of sweat visibly broke out on Percy's temple.
One Draco was already enough to handle. If two more joined them, would Gryffindor ever have peace again?
"Don't keep thinking about this or that." Draco raised his hand and patted Goyle's shoulder. "Study hard over there. I'm leaving."
"Big brother, you must come back!" Goyle called out urgently.
Draco didn't look back, tossing a reply over his shoulder: "Don't act like I'm going off to die."
With that, he continued walking forward.
Goyle and Vincent stood where they were, watching Draco's receding figure, their faces filled with reluctance and bewilderment.
They didn't understand why, overnight, the world had turned upside down like this.
But they knew.
No matter where big brother was, he would always be their big brother.
After walking some more distance, two more people appeared ahead.
Theodore and a boy with a slightly tanned complexion.
If Draco remembered correctly, it should be Blaise Zabini.
Theodore remained his usual cold and reticent self, while Chabney wore his customary air of nonchalant cynicism.
"Good morning, Malfoy," Nott spoke first, his tone flat. "It seems you're occupied with important matters."
Draco nodded, replying simply: "Morning."
"The humidity in the Slytherin Dungeon has been unusual lately. Perhaps related to the Black Lake's water level," Theodore remarked casually.
Draco understood perfectly; he was being given information.
He wasn't actively targeting Draco but was forced to maintain distance due to Slytherin's pressure.
"Thank you for letting me know," Draco responded evenly.
That was enough.
But Chabney clearly didn't intend to be so quiet.
"Ah, Malfoy," he drawled lazily. "Interesting morning, isn't it? I heard the smoked bacon in the Great Hall was overcooked today."
Then, a hint of mockery curled at the corner of Chabney's mouth: "However, some people just prefer... the taste of something well-done, even if it's no longer on its original grill."
Draco pretended not to understand, giving him a dismissive glance: "Don't you care about anything besides eating?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Chabney's cynical smile instantly stiffened, his eyes flashing with a mix of offended anger and surprise.
His carefully crafted insinuation had been lightly dismissed by Draco as a lowbrow obsession with "just eating."
This was even more frustrating than a direct rebuttal.
Chabney's expression darkened.
To continue arguing about "eating" would make him seem truly concerned only with trivialities.
Yet changing the topic would appear as if he couldn't handle the retort.
Finally, he forced out through gritted teeth: "At least I know what should be eaten and what shouldn't."
"Then enjoy your meal."
Draco tossed the remark casually over his shoulder, already turning away without another glance, striding forward.
Chabney felt a surge of intense frustration and humiliation.
First, he was accused of "only knowing how to eat," then dismissed with a "enjoy your meal" as if he were a beggar being sent off.
His supposedly clever wordplay had been crudely categorized as "lowbrow" and abruptly terminated.
Chabney let out an angry, gritted scoff at Draco's back, his face growing even more sullen.
What made it more infuriating was that he couldn't lash out.
Because what Draco said was merely an attitude that was extremely unpleasant.
This was even more maddening than a direct insult.
Draco continued downward with Percy.
Not long after, Draco encountered another group.
Pansy, and her two followers.
Pansy stood in the center of the corridor, arms crossed, looking at Draco with a complicated gaze.
"Draco," her voice carried a barely perceptible tremor. "You must have your reasons, don't you?"
Her tone held expectation, unease, and a stubbornness bordering on pleading.
Draco glanced at her: "Reasons? Maybe I didn't sleep well last night, so the Hat thought I was reckless enough."
"Who knows? Anyway, now I have to go deal with my father's anger. Good luck, Pansy."
Pansy was prepared to accept any explanation.
But faced with Draco's utterly casual attitude.
Her body and expression instantly froze, as if she had thrown a punch into empty air.
Her pupils dilated slightly in confusion, her brow unconsciously furrowing, thinking:
"...Didn't sleep well? Reckless? Is that his explanation? Is he... joking? Or treating me like a three-year-old?"
She had expected something weighty, a helplessness forced by family pressure.
Not Draco's offhand comment about a poor night's sleep.
The shock on her face quickly transformed into a flush of humiliation and anger.
Pansy lifted her chin again, but this time the movement held none of her previous vulnerability, only offended pride.
The flush rapidly faded, leaving her face an unnaturally pale calm.
She looked at Draco with a newly assessing, icy gaze, as if truly seeing him for the first time.
Or seeing the role Draco had chosen to play.
Then she gave an almost imperceptible nod, the motion stiff as a marionette's.
Immediately, Pansy's lips twisted into a smile devoid of warmth, carrying a faint trace of mockery.
"Of course," she enunciated each word like ice pellets. "Sleep well. I hope you manage to deal with it... Malfoy."
With that, Pansy turned away without another glance, saying to Millicent and Daphne beside her: "Let's go."
She strode away first, her entire being radiating a cold, "keep away" aura.
Draco finally felt completely relieved.
Getting involved with Pansy was truly difficult to shake off.
If he said the wrong thing, she would definitely explode.
Now, it seemed he had severed her illusions.
The initial plan was finally completed.
[Ding! Original content added. luck value +20]
Chapter 57: The Pressure Is on Draco
"Dean, I've brought him here."
Percy stood at the corner of the third-floor corridor, his voice carrying a hint of irrepressible nervousness.
He bowed slightly, fine beads of sweat still hanging from his temples.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Weasley. You may go about your business."
"Yes, Professor."
Percy turned and left as if granted a grand amnesty, his steps slightly hurried, as if staying here a second longer would sweep him into some storm he couldn't understand.
Only Draco and Professor McGonagall remained in the corridor.
Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes stared at Draco without reservation, as if trying to see right through him.
"Let's go," McGonagall said calmly.
Draco nodded and followed her.
The two arrived in front of a giant Gargoyle Statue.
The statue was snarling and clawing, looking ferocious as if it might pounce at any moment and tear anyone who approached into pieces.
Professor McGonagall stopped and whispered the password: "Cockroach Clusters."
The Gargoyle Statue suddenly jumped aside from the wall, revealing a smooth stone surface behind it.
The stone surface opened slowly like a door, revealing a narrow entrance.
"Go on in," said Professor McGonagall.
Draco stepped inside and found a narrow Lift inside.
The Lift rose slowly, the stone walls gliding past on all sides with a slight grinding sound.
"Once we're up there, don't speak out of turn," Professor McGonagall's voice echoed in the cramped space. "As long as nothing is wrong, no one can take you away."
Draco looked at her in surprise.
"What is it?" Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow. "Does Mr. Malfoy not feel that he belongs in Gryffindor?"
Draco was slightly taken aback, then his lips curled into a smirk. "Hello, Dean McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall huffed, seemingly satisfied with the title. "Mr. Malfoy, since you've joined Gryffindor, you must abide by everything Gryffindor stands for."
After a pause, her gaze became even more serious. "Gryffindor values action. If you perform excellently in Charms Class, strive hard on the Quidditch Pitch, and keep quiet in the Common Room... people will see it.
"So you must put away your sarcasm and boasting. Let your wand and your grades speak for you. This is the only way you can earn some... tolerance, and perhaps even respect."
Draco couldn't help but smile.
It seemed Professor McGonagall was still Professor McGonagall.
No matter who the student was, she had only one standard: strength and discipline.
The Lift soon reached the eighth floor.
The door opened slowly.
Dumbledore had been waiting there for a long time.
Besides the old geezer Lucius, Dobby was there too.
The House-elf stood in the corner, ears drooping, eyes full of unease.
Seeing Draco enter, Lucius stood up.
"Albus, Professor McGonagall," Lucius said calmly. "Then we shall take our leave."
Professor McGonagall frowned. "Mr. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy has classes this afternoon."
"I am aware, Professor McGonagall," Lucius said indifferently.
"Will he be able to return to class on time this afternoon?" Professor McGonagall pressed.
"That depends on whether the matter can be resolved," Lucius's reply was lukewarm.
"Is there anything more important than a student's education?" Professor McGonagall's voice turned a few degrees colder.
"I'm afraid I cannot say," Lucius bowed slightly, his tone carrying a hint of unquestionable arrogance.
"Then I'm afraid I cannot allow you to take the student away," Professor McGonagall refused to budge.
Lucius knew that no matter what reason he used, he could not forcibly take a student away on Hogwarts grounds.
These were the rules and regulations of the magic school.
If he had known this, he shouldn't have let Draco come to Hogwarts.
He must have been influenced.
However, before coming, Lucius had already thought of a countermeasure.
"Very well, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall," he began slowly with a hint of "conceding" helplessness.
"I admit that in the face of Hogwarts' rules and regulations, a father's concern and the traditions of an ancient family seem insignificant."
Lucius paused, then changed the subject. "We are arguing here about forms, procedures, and authoritative certifications, but we are all ignoring the most important and fundamental question—where exactly is the best environment for Draco?"
Professor McGonagall's eyes turned cold. "Mr. Malfoy, an excellent person like yourself graduated from Hogwarts. Is there something wrong with this place?"
"Not at all." Lucius shook his head. "However, perhaps the Sorting Hat's placement was somewhat biased. If Draco were to join Gryffindor—"
His voice grew low, carrying a deliberately crafted worry. "The people there might target him, viewing him as a freak or a spy. His former 'friends' now look at him with hatred."
"And his current 'classmates'—will they really accept a Malfoy? Isn't this a form of mental torture?"
"I assure you, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said calmly, "Gryffindor House treats every student with fairness and justice."
"That's a bit too absolute, Professor McGonagall." Lucius chuckled. "You've been a Professor here for so many years; are you not aware of what a Malfoy would face in Gryffindor?"
He turned to Dumbledore, his tone suddenly becoming "sincere." "Albus, you have always advocated for respecting individual choice. Professor McGonagall, you also emphasize fairness."
"Then why can't we fairly listen to the child's own wishes now? If Draco himself is willing to leave this place that causes him pain, what right do you have to forcibly detain him? Isn't that just another form of tyranny?"
Draco stared at Lucius, dumbfounded.
In his mind, he shouted: "Impressive!"
Was this old geezer this formidable in the original work?
This silver tongue, this logic, this shift in stance—he had played the role of a father acting "for the good of his child" to perfection.
Now, the pressure was completely on Draco.
He had originally wanted to just watch the drama unfold.
Professor McGonagall wanted to persuade Draco further, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her.
"Draco," Dumbledore looked at him. "Are you ready?"