Chapter 107: Malfoy's Hunt
The seed of humiliation, planted on the train, had festered in Draco Malfoy's heart, growing into a thorny vine of pure hatred. His public shame was the talk of the school, and every stifled giggle he heard in the corridors was like a hot needle in his skin. He was certain, with a burning, obsessive certainty, that Potter and his gang—especially that freak Throne—were running an illegal organisation. Finding proof was now his sole purpose.
In the dim, green-tinged light of the Slytherin common room, Goyle presented his findings with the air of a cat delivering a prized, if bedraggled, mouse. He handed Malfoy a crumpled bit of parchment.
"Got some names, Draco," Goyle grunted. "Potter, Granger, the Weasel, Longbottom… that Lovegood girl from Ravenclaw. And that Throne bloke, of course."
Crabbe nodded vigorously beside him, his small eyes gleaming with pride.
Malfoy stared at the list. A slow, trembling rage began to build in his chest. He looked from the parchment to Goyle's expectant face.
"You… imbecile," Malfoy whispered, his voice dangerously quiet. Then it erupted. "YOU MORONIC, TROLL-BRAINED WASTE OF SPACE! I KNOW THEY'RE IN IT! I WAS THERE! THEY'RE THE ONES WHO DID THIS TO ME!"
He shredded the parchment, scattering the pieces like confetti. The sudden explosion of fury silenced the entire common room. Younger students scurried for the door.
"I need names we don't know!" Malfoy spat, his face contorted. "The others! The ones from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who were there that day! There can't have been many. Those bookworms and duffers will crack like eggs. FIND THEM!"
He was breathing heavily, trying to master himself. Gryffindors were notoriously loyal and stubborn. But a Ravenclaw, obsessed with their own intellect, or a Hufflepuff, anxious to avoid trouble… they might be persuaded to talk.
Crabbe's face suddenly lit up with the strain of a rare thought. He slapped his broad forehead. "Oi! I remember! There was a Ravenclaw girl… blonde, kinda… floaty-looking? Big silvery eyes?"
Goyle scratched his head, nodding slowly. "Yeah… yeah. Sounds familiar."
A flicker of hope ignited in Malfoy. "Yes? Her name? Quickly!"
Crabbe's face fell into a mask of intense concentration, which made him look constipated. "It's… it's on the tip of my tongue… she's got a nickname, right? Everyone calls her something…"
Malfoy's hope curdled into cold, familiar disgust. "A nickname," he repeated flatly.
"Yeah! Like… Loony! Loony something!" Crabbe said triumphantly.
The silence that followed was absolute. Malfoy closed his eyes, a muscle twitching in his jaw. When he opened them, his voice was a deadly hiss. "Loony Lovegood. You've just described Luna Lovegood. The one Ravenclaw I already named, you gelatinous-brained gargoyle! The 'mad girl'! You've spent five minutes describing the one person we already KNOW!"
He was beyond shouting now. He was vibrating with a cold, exhausted fury. Goyle and Crabbe shrunk back, finally understanding the depth of their failure.
"Get out," Malfoy said, his voice hollow. "Go. Actually ask someone. Find me the other Ravenclaws. Find me the Hufflepuffs. Do not come back until you have real names. Go."
They fled.
Alone on the serpent-emblazoned sofa, Malfoy slumped, rubbing his temples. The fatigue of dealing with such monumental stupidity was overwhelming. But the hatred burned through it. He pictured Elian Throne and Harry Potter being marched out of Hogwarts, their wands snapped, expelled and vulnerable.
Then let the Dark Lord have them, he thought viciously. Let the Death Eaters finish what they started at the Lovegoods'.
He had no idea that the 'vulnerable' Muggle-born he so despised had already butchered a small army of those very Death Eaters. His fantasy was a child's cartoon of revenge.
The hunt, however clumsy, began. Crabbe and Goyle, along with a few other Slytherin lackeys, started making clumsy inquiries, lurking near the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, trying to remember faces from the train. The D.A. members, forewarned by the tension in the air, became even more careful. Secrets were kept, looks were exchanged in silence, and the castle felt like it was holding its breath.
Several tense days passed. The routine of Umbridge's oppressive lessons continued, a dreary background to the hidden war of whispers.
Then, one afternoon as Elian was picking at a treacle tart in the Great Hall, Hermione burst through the doors, her eyes wide with excitement and worry. She rushed to his side, barely containing her voice.
"Elian! Come quick! Hagrid's back! But… something's wrong. Harry's already gone down to see him. We need to go now."
(End of Chapter)
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/TofuChan
💕Patreon members get early access to chapters, bonus content, and voting power on future ideas.💕
Every bit of support helps me write more and faster. Thank you so much for reading! 🥰
Bonus Chapter For Every 100 Power Stones
Lets hit the goal of 200 Patreon Members now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕