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Chapter 49: Aphrodisiac
Cursing under her breath, Audrey tried to Apparate back to her dormitory the moment she left the library.
Suddenly, on the first floor corridor, she caught sight of a familiar figure sneaking along the wall.
Draco Malfoy?
Audrey immediately followed him. After all, he was her cousin—if Filch caught him on the first day of term, Lucius would explode.
But after turning left and right through several corridors, Draco somehow ended up outside Filch's office.
What on earth is this kid doing?
Audrey slowed her steps. If Filch suddenly returned and caught them both, they'd be locked up together. That would be disastrous.
After a moment's hesitation, she decided to keep watch from a distance. If Filch came back, she could create a distraction and buy Draco some time.
Standing quietly in the corridor, Audrey's thoughts drifted.
Running into Voldemort this early was not something she had anticipated.
Report it to Dumbledore?
Only an idiot would do that.
When she'd spoken to Dumbledore earlier, she'd merely mentioned that Professor Quirrell carried an unusually strong dark aura at the back of his head. She had deliberately avoided saying anything about Voldemort himself.
She'd even given Dumbledore the best possible excuse—don't interfere.
If she exposed Voldemort now, wouldn't that mean openly standing against both Voldemort and Dumbledore?
What she wanted was neutrality. Absolute neutrality. Staying out of everyone's game.
While she was thinking, Draco slipped out of Filch's office, looking guilty and alert.
If this kid weren't a Malfoy, he'd be a Gryffindor through and through.
Breaking into Filch's office.
Honestly, I should give you the title of the Sixth Founder of Hogwarts.
…
…
The next morning.
Audrey arrived at the Great Hall looking dispirited.
The night before, she had carefully examined the ancient magical echoes in several areas of the castle. Unfortunately, while the library's memories were incomplete, they weren't wrong either.
After comparing everything she'd seen, Audrey reached a grim conclusion.
She had no reliable way to isolate the exorcism pathways.
The magical circuits of Hogwarts were even worse than the wiring behind a Muggle computer enthusiast's desk—intertwined, overlapping, and utterly chaotic.
Trying to identify specific functional modules through comparison alone was basically impossible.
"Good morning, Audrey!"
Audrey looked up. It was Iserline.
"Good morning," she replied.
Iserline sat three seats away from her—not by choice, but because the air around Audrey was freezing. The ghosts haunting her made proximity unpleasant.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Iserline asked. "First night in a Hogwarts bed—was it alright?"
"Perfectly fine," Audrey replied. "I don't have trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places."
"…Right."
Breakfast was mercifully mild in flavor, so Audrey wasn't poisoned by the ghosts this time. At least she managed a hot meal.
The night before, Dumbledore had summoned the ghosts of all four Houses and politely requested that they keep their distance from Miss Audrey Astray.
Unfortunately, the pure magic radiating from Audrey was more addictive to ghosts than narcotics.
Why should they give up their enjoyment just because an old man asked nicely?
Although it was only September, Audrey felt as though winter had already settled into her bones.
She sighed.
At this rate, she'd have to eat all her meals in her dormitory. Momo would need to bring them to her.
As more students arrived, the Great Hall gradually filled.
Then Professor Quirinus Quirrell began pacing between the four House tables.
"Th-this… this is a n-new exorcism ritual," he stammered, "l-learned from J-Japanese magic…"
As he walked, a heavy stench of garlic spread through the hall. Students covered their noses, appetite instantly ruined.
Fortunately, Quirrell only completed two circuits before retreating to the staff table, sparing everyone further suffering.
Audrey didn't even glance at him.
She knew better than anyone—no disguise could fool Voldemort's senses. He'd recognized her even when she'd been invisible.
It didn't matter.
Revealing Audrey Astray's identity to Voldemort was no different from revealing Hydras's identity to Dumbledore.
In three years, she would leave anyway.
…
…
After breakfast, Quirrell hurried back to his office.
The fury of his master was unbearable.
He slammed the door shut and cast a soundproofing charm.
Voldemort's enraged voice immediately filled the room.
"Damn the Grey family! Damn them!"
His voice was sharp enough to tear the air apart.
"That is my daughter! My pure-blood daughter! And they forced her into the Muggle world—to sing on the streets?!"
At Voldemort's command, Quirrell had searched the Great Hall for Hydras Lestrange.
She wasn't there.
Which meant she wasn't using her real name. How she had fooled the Book of Admission was unclear—but the sixteen-year-old Muggle singer had turned out to be his own daughter.
This was intolerable.
The daughter of the Dark Lord—reduced to a street performer.
The Grey family had to be erased.
"Master," Quirrell pleaded, "the Philosopher's Stone—"
"NO!"
Voldemort's rage boiled over.
"This weekend. I want the Grey family gone."
"All of them."
…
…
Draco Malfoy regretted everything.
Why had he listened to Miss Roll?
Slip Astray an aphrodisiac. Make her chase Filch. Destroy her reputation.
It would work.
[In this story, love potions function through targeted sympathetic binding—using a specific bodily component of the intended subject to ensure precise attraction.]
Yes.
He had added Filch's hair.
His eyes darted nervously as he approached Audrey, holding out a bottle.
"Astray… I spoke out of turn before," he said stiffly. "This is my apology. Snake-scale fruit juice. The best."
Snake-scale fruit was extremely rare, native only to the former lands of the Three Swamp Witches. Sweet, refreshing, and capable of sharpening the mind.
Audrey smiled faintly. "You're very considerate."
She uncorked the bottle and sniffed.
…Huh?
Why does this smell like a Galleon?
For anyone wondering—yes, Galleons do have a scent. Audrey knew this better than anyone. She'd slept on one for five years.
Her expression changed instantly.
Amortentia.
The scent of Amortentia varies by individual—it smells like whatever the drinker finds most appealing.
Harry smelled the Burrow and floral notes.
Hermione smelled parchment, freshly cut grass… and Ron.
And my cousin is trying to ruin my life.
She remembered Filch's office.
Last night.
Her blood ran cold.
Merlin, you absolute bastard.
Draco Malfoy is a first-year. There is no way he brewed this himself.
Someone had put him up to it.
Audrey's gaze drifted to the Slytherin table.
Arjuna Roll was watching her closely.
Ah.
So you still haven't learned your lesson after I broke your front tooth.
Very well.
Let's see how you like your own medicine.
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