Chapter 65: The Centaur's Prophecy is Slapped in the Face! The Shifting Stars
Firenze scanned the surroundings warily, only lowering his front hooves once he confirmed the evil aura had receded.
He didn't look at Harry Potter on the ground.
His gaze was locked firmly onto Draco Malfoy.
Those deep blue eyes were filled with scrutiny and confusion.
"A strange night,"
Firenze began, his voice low.
"The stars show that Mars is unusually bright, foretelling the blood and conflict of innocents."
He paused, his gaze moving between Draco and the dead Unicorn.
"But what I see is that the path of the stars has been forcibly twisted by an external force."
"The bloodshed that should have happened was prevented, and the prey that should have fled has become the hunter."
Firenze approached Draco.
"Young Malfoy, you carry an aura that does not belong to mortals. The light of Mars shifts upon you; this is a dangerous omen."
He wanted to use the ancient wisdom of the Centaurs to warn the boy.
Draco merely raised an eyebrow.
"An omen?"
He interrupted Firenze.
"What the stars say has nothing to do with me."
"A Malfoy's destiny has never been decided by the stars."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unshakeable dominance.
"We only believe in the power in our own hands."
Firenze looked at him deeply; in the boy's eyes, he saw no reverence for the stars, only ambition and confidence.
He fell silent.
Just then, the sound of scrambling footsteps and Hagrid's anxious shouts came from a distance.
"Harry! Mr. Malfoy! Where are you?"
Hagrid's massive silhouette appeared at the edge of the clearing, with Hermione and a pale-faced Nevillefollowing behind.
Upon seeing the Unicorn's carcass and Harry slumped on the ground, Hagrid let out a wail.
"Oh, no! Merlin's beard! Another one!"
He rushed over in a panic, trying to help Harry up.
"Harry, are you alright? What happened? That thing..."
A cold voice cut him off.
"What happened? You should be the one answering that, Hagrid!"
Draco turned to face the half-Giant, his face no longer calm but filled with the anger of a Malfoy heir demanding accountability.
"Is this how you fulfill your duties? Letting two first-year students go deep into the Forbidden Forest without your supervision!"
His voice suddenly rose.
"If it weren't for me, Potter would be lying there just like this Unicorn!"
"Do you know how dangerous tonight was? Do you know what we encountered? You nearly got the heir of a pure-blood family killed! Do you understand what that means?"
Draco pressed forward step by step.
Hagrid was scolded into backing away repeatedly, his massive frame shrinking into a ball, his face written with guilt and fear.
"I... I didn't mean to... Mr. Malfoy... I..."
"I don't want to hear excuses!" Draco interrupted coldly. "I will write to my father about everything tonight, and he will submit it to the Board of Governors!"
"Let the Board of Governors judge whether you're still qualified to be Hogwarts' Keeper of Keys!"
"No! Please, don't!"
At the mention of the "Board of Governors," Hagridpanicked completely.
He couldn't lose this job; he couldn't leave Hogwarts.
He almost knelt, looking at Draco with imploring eyes.
"I beg of you, Mr. Malfoy, I'll do anything..."
This was exactly the effect Draco wanted.
He had gained total control of the narrative, transforming from the punished into the judge.
Hermione ran over quickly, but she went straight past Harry on the ground.
In her eyes, there was only Draco.
She keenly noticed that Draco's hand, hidden in the shadows of his robes, was trembling slightly.
It was a sign of magical exhaustion.
A pang of distress seized her heart.
He must have just fought a terrible battle.
"Draco, are you okay?"
Hermione rushed to his side and nervously supported his arm, her voice bordering on tears.
Harry watched the scene blankly.
He watched one of his best friends gaze at Draco with a tenderness he had never seen before.
Meanwhile, he had just escaped from Lord Voldemort's clutches, only to be left aside, ignored by everyone.
He felt like a clown.
A complete outsider.
"I'm fine." Draco enjoyed Hermione's concern, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the despondent Harry with a cold sneer in his heart.
He gently patted the back of Hermione's hand and soothed her, "Just a little scare."
Then, he turned to the nearly weeping Hagrid and said in a condescending tone:
"I can temporarily refrain from telling my father about tonight. However, you owe me a favor, Hagrid. Remember that."
"Yes, yes! I'll remember! Thank you, Mr. Malfoy!" Hagridsaid, as if granted a great reprieve.
"Alright, the farce is over." Draco glanced at the Unicorn's carcass with a flash of disgust in his eyes. "Let's go back."
The group set off on the return journey in silence.
Draco walked at the front, with Hermione supporting him closely.
Hagrid and Neville followed behind dejectedly.
Harry walked alone at the very back, like an abandoned shadow.
As they were about to exit the Forbidden Forest, Dracoglanced back inconspicuously, looking deep into the dark woods.
He knew that after tonight, Quirrell and Lord Voldemortwould absolutely have murderous intent toward him.
The plan had to be accelerated.
The Philosopher's Stone had to be obtained as soon as possible.
Furthermore... Draco felt a wave of soul-deep fatigue and the discomfort of being tainted by an evil aura.
Tonight, he needed a special "purification" to relax his nerves and, incidentally... replenish his energy.
Draco rejected the suggestion of going to the Hospital Wing.
Using the excuse of needing to meditate in the Common Room, he shook everyone off and came alone to the corridor on the seventh floor with the tapestry of Trolls.
After confirming no one was around, he walked back and forth three times in front of the blank wall.
Silently chanting in his mind:
"I need a private place where I can thoroughly purify my body and mind without being disturbed."
A black obsidian door carved with snake-like patterns emerged on the wall.
He pushed the door open and nodded with satisfaction at the sight inside.
It was an extremely luxurious ancient Roman-style bath.
Warm mist drifted about, and in the center was a massive circular bath; the pool water was milky white, emitting the fragrance of herbs and milk.
Gold-carved snake-head spouts were gurgling hot water into the pool.
Draco took off his robes, revealing a body that, though still that of a youth, was filled with a sense of power after being modified by dragons blood.
He first took out the two-way mirror and contacted Pansy Parkinson.
A flash of light appeared on the mirror's surface, and Pansy's face, marked by morbid fanaticism, appeared.
"Master, you summoned me."
"Bring 'that' and come to the Room of Requirement. Also, call Hermione Granger here."
"Granger?" Pansy's brow furrowed, her voice full of jealousy.
"Execute the order." Draco's tone left no room for doubt.
"Yes, my Master." Pansy immediately bowed her head.
Chapter 66: Pansy's Jealousy, A Three-Person Lesson in the Bath!
Draco only contacted Hermione after cutting off the communication.
"Hermione, come to the corridor opposite the tapestry on the seventh floor, I have an urgent matter."
"Draco? Are you okay? Your voice sounds very weak!" Hermione on the other side of the mirror immediately became anxious.
"Not very well." Draco showed a hint of pain at just the right moment.
"In the Forbidden Forest, I was contaminated by the evil aura of that dark shadow. Now I'm cold all over, and my magic is spiraling out of control."
He began to weave a web of lies.
"I've checked ancient books; this is very dangerous. If not purified in time, the Magic Core will be permanently damaged, or even... I might die."
"What?!" Hermione's voice instantly carried a sob, "Then what should we do? Tell Dumbledore?"
"No, you can't tell anyone!" Draco immediately rejected the idea, "For this kind of dark contamination, there is only one purification method."
"It requires a Witch with a pure heart and high magicaffinity to act as a 'Guide.' During the ritual, her magic is used to draw the impurity out of my body."
"Hermione..." His voice was full of allure, "You are the smartest, purest girl I know. Only you can save me."
On the other side of the mirror, Hermione's breathing stopped.
She could save him?
Only she could save Draco?
This realization made her head spin.
Shame, fear, worry... all emotions were completely crushed before the thought of "saving Draco."
"I... I'll be right there!"
Hanging up the communication, Draco walked into the bath with satisfaction, immersing his body in the warm medicinal bath.
Before long, Hermione and Pansy arrived one after the other.
When Hermione saw the luxurious bathhouse and Dracosoaking in the pool with his eyes closed to rest, her cheeks instantly turned crimson.
"Draco..."
"You're here." Draco opened his eyes, his face appearing somewhat pale in the mist, successfully eliciting sympathy.
Pansy walked up to Hermione and threw a piece of clothing into her arms.
"Put this on." Pansy's tone was cold.
Hermione looked down and saw it was a robe made of nearly transparent white silk.
The style was conservative, with long sleeves and a high collar, reaching down to the ankles.
But the material... under the magic lamps, it was as thin as a cicada's wing.
"This... what is this?" Hermione's face turned even redder.
"The Ritual Robe for the Purification Ceremony," Pansyexplained expressionlessly, though her eyes flashed with the fire of jealousy.
"Its material can maximize magic conduction. Without wearing it, the purification effect will be greatly compromised, and Draco might die."
The word "die" shattered the last bit of Hermione's shame.
Biting her lower lip, she turned around and, with trembling hands, quickly took off her school uniform and changed into the embarrassing silk robe.
When she turned back, Pansy's breath hitched for a moment.
The girl's youthful curves were faintly visible under the semi-transparent silk, possessing a sense of beauty that was both forbidden and holy.
"Very good."
Draco, in the bath, spoke, his gaze unashamedly admiring the "artwork" before him.
"Now, Hermione, come here to me."
Hermione felt as if her legs were filled with lead. She walked difficulty to the edge of the pool and, following instructions, cautiously stepped into the warm water.
Upon meeting the water, the silk instantly clung to her body, outlining the girl's silhouette with perfect clarity.
"Come closer." Draco commanded.
Hermione obediently walked in front of him.
Draco reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into his arms.
"Relax, feel my magic. Imagine them as black smoke,'sucking' them out of my body, and then discharging them through you into this pool of Holy Water."
The moment their skin touched, Hermione's whole body stiffened.
Draco's body was hotter than she had imagined, full of masculine power.
In Draco's mind, the system's notification sound rang out.
[Ding! Detected deep physical interaction with high-potential target [Hermione Granger], Bond Charginginitiated!]
He could feel a warm life energy continuously pouring into his depleted body through the skin where they touched.
Pansy, watching this from the side, was so jealous her eyes turned red.
She walked to the edge of the pool, pretending to check the water temperature, and deliberately turned up the hot water valve of a snake-head spout.
Scalding hot water poured in, and the water temperature rose rapidly.
"Ah..."
Hermione let out a soft cry from the heat, her skin quickly flushing an inviting pink, and her whole body went limp in Draco's arms.
"Don't get distracted."
Draco's voice sounded in her ear, carrying a hint of raspiness.
Using the guidance of magic as an excuse, his fingertips slowly traced over her smooth back, euphemistically calling it "opening the magic channels."
Hermione's rationality completely collapsed.
She could only grip Draco's arm tightly, letting out suppressed gasps as she allowed him to do as he pleased.
"Yes, just like that..."
Draco whispered in her ear, his voice like a demon's murmur.
"Hermione, you're doing very well... I can feel the black things leaving... Only you can save me, you are my Purification Angel..."
These words, like a mental brand, were deeply etched into Hermione's soul.
She felt that she was no longer an ordinary MuggleWitch, but savior exclusive to Draco.
This unique sense of validation made her willing to sink into it.
After an unknown amount of time, the "Purification Ceremony" ended.
[Ding! Purification complete! Host's negative status [Magic Overdraft] has been cleared, gained temporary buff status [Mental Soothing]!]
[Ding! Target [Hermione Granger]'s favorability has broken through the critical threshold! Special bond trait unlocked: [Blind Obedience]!]
Draco leaned lazily against the edge of the pool, enjoying the joint service of Hermione and Pansy (under his command).
Hermione carefully dried his hair with a towel, while Pansy knelt by the pool, massaging his shoulders.
"By the way, Hermione." Draco spoke casually, "How did Potter react after he returned to the Common Room?"
Hermione, who had completely fallen, did not hesitate to tell him everything about Harry.
"He kept talking about the monster he encountered tonight, and... how you drove it back. But Ron didn't believe him and even mocked him."
"He also said he suspects Professor Snape is in league with the monster and wants to steal the Philosopher's Stone."
"Oh?" A glint flashed in Draco's eyes, "What else did he say?"
"He said he feels we can't wait any longer and must take action after the final exams to stop Professor Snape."
Chapter 67: The Rift Deepens, savior's Loneliness
The next morning, the Great Hall.
Harry sat with heavy dark circles under his eyes, his fork poking aimlessly at the fried eggs on his plate, not having taken a single bite.
The images from the Forbidden Forest last night were playing on a loop in his mind.
The dark shadow drinking the Unicorn's blood, Draco's powerful strength, and Hermione's cold back.
Everything was a mess.
Ron sat down beside him with a yawn, his mouth full of food, and asked indistinctly, "Harry, you look terrible. Didn't sleep well?"
"Ron, Hermione..." Harry lowered his voice, speaking urgently.
"Last night in the Forbidden Forest, we really encountered a monster! It was wearing a cloak and drinking Unicorn blood!"
Ron stopped chewing and looked at him as if he were an idiot.
"Harry, are you scared out of your wits? It was so dark in the Forbidden Forest, you must have seen it wrong. Maybe it was just a fox."
"No! I saw it clearly!" Harry raised his voice.
"And the scar on my forehead hurt like crazy! Just like when I was little!"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower: "It was Malfoy; he drove the monster away! He used just one Petrificus Totalus!"
"Pfft—"
Ron spat out a mouthful of Pumpkin Juice. He stared at Harry with wide eyes, then burst into suppressed laughter.
"Haha... Harry, are you crazy? Malfoy? That coward? He drove away a monster?"
Ron laughed so hard he couldn't straighten up. "I bet he was the first one to piss himself! Why are you speaking up for him? Did he put a curse on you?"
Harry looked at Ron's face, which was full of mockery, and felt a tightness in his chest.
He turned to Hermione on the other side; she was the smartest among them, she would surely understand.
"Hermione, you believe me, right? You were there too!"
Hermione's gaze moved away from a thick copy of "Advanced Spells Explained." She gave him a faint glance before quickly shifting back to the book.
She had just returned from the Room of Requirement, carrying a faint scent of expensive perfume, her spirit in a state of strange excitement and satisfaction.
As for Harry's "troubles," she only felt annoyed now.
"Harry, I didn't see anything clearly," her voice was cold.
"All I know is that we were punished for being out at night. The most important thing now is to review for the final exams, not to discuss hallucinations."
She turned a page and added another sentence.
"I advise you to behave and stop causing trouble for Gryffindor."
Harry froze.
He looked at Hermione, unable to believe she had said that. The way she looked at him was like looking at an unreasonable nuisance.
Just then, the sound of footsteps approached.
Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, walked past the Gryffindor table.
He was in a great mood today, his platinum-blond hair meticulous, a lazy smile on his face.
He intentionally raised his voice, saying to his lackeys, "Last night's 'hunt' was really boring. I thought there would be something big in the Forbidden Forest."
A round of echoing laughter came from the Slytherintable.
As Draco passed Harry, he paused for a moment and swept a contemptuous glance over him from the corner of his eye, as if looking at a pathetic stray dog.
This look completely ignited Harry's fuse.
Ron's mockery, Hermione's indifference—he even began to doubt himself.
Could everything from last night really have been a hallucination born of fear?
The feeling of being abandoned by the whole world suffocated him more than the stinging of his scar.
Over the next few days, this feeling only grew heavier.
Harry wanted to go to the Library to research information and prove he wasn't lying.
Then, in the quietest corner of the Library, he saw the scene he least wanted to see.
Hermione was sitting opposite Draco.
She wasn't looking at her own book; instead, she was helping Draco organize his Potions notes, her quill scratching against the parchment.
From time to time, she looked up and whispered something to Draco.
Draco leaned back in his chair, lazily flipping through a leisure book, occasionally replying.
Sunlight spilled from the high windows onto them; the scene was quiet and harmonious.
They looked... like they belonged together.
Harry hid behind a bookshelf, his fists clenched tight.
At that moment, Hermione seemed to be explaining something; she looked up at Draco with a smile on her face.
Gentle, focused, and even carrying a hint of admiration.
That smile was like a knife stabbing into Harry's heart.
He couldn't watch any longer and turned to flee in disarray.
Anger, betrayal, loneliness.
Since no one believed him.
Since his friends had gone over to the side of the enemy.
Fine.
He would investigate alone.
He would prove to everyone that he was right! He would expose the plot of Snape and Malfoy and protect the Philosopher's Stone himself!
He would let everyone know that he, Harry Potter, was the hero!
...Before the final exams, Hogwarts' Library was overcrowded.
In the Slytherin Common Room, however, the atmosphere was entirely different. There was no anxiety here, only fanatical admiration.
Draco was hosting his private 'Elite Study Group.'
The fireplace was burning with Incendio; he sat in the most magnificent armchair, surrounded by a group of handsome and beautiful Slytherins.
To join, the threshold was very high.
It was either someone high-born and beautiful like Pansy Parkinson, or an heir to a powerful family like Blaise Zabini.
"Draco, I don't understand the counter-spell for this Permanent Sticking Charm," a beautiful fifth-year girl asked in a flirtatious voice.
Draco didn't even flip through the book; he casually recited a string of incantations and hand movements, even pointing out two errors in the textbook.
"Oh my god, Draco, you're a genius!" the girl exclaimed, her eyes full of stars.
Draco enjoyed this adulation, feeling as though he were the King of Hogwarts.
In the corner, the 'flower of slytherin,' Daphne Greengrass, appeared to be reading, but her peripheral vision never left the center of the crowd.
She was a blonde beauty known for her cold arrogance, the eldest daughter of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eightpure-blood families.
Draco's change was too great; he had transformed from a flamboyant young master into this 'uncrowned king' who could face down Dark Arts creatures.
The Greengrass Family was a potential marriage match for the Malfoy Family.
Her father had already written multiple times, telling her to interact more with this reborn Malfoy heir.
Daphne herself also felt a spark of attraction toward this increasingly powerful man.
As she observed, Draco waved for the crowd to disperse and walked alone toward his private bedroom deep within the Common Room.
A few minutes later, Daphne caught sight of a sneaky figure slipping out from the direction of Draco's bedroom.
The person moved quickly, but Daphne still saw clearly.
It was Hermione Granger!
That Gryffindor mudblood!
She quickly disappeared through the entrance, but Daphne was certain she wasn't mistaken.
She also noticed that Granger's lips were redder than usual, her hair was a bit messy, and her face carried a lingering flush.
Boom!
Daphne's mind exploded.
A mudblood! Actually coming out of Draco Malfoy's bedroom!
This was an insult to all pure-bloods!
Intense jealousy and anger rushed to her head.
Draco Malfoy was a man she believed only high-born pure-bloods like herself were worthy of approaching!
No!
Daphne closed her book, stood up, and under the surprised gazes of her friends, walked toward Draco, who had just come out of his bedroom.
"Malfoy," she spoke in her usual cold voice.
When Draco saw it was her, a flash of surprise crossed his face before he regained his aristocratic politeness.
"Miss Greengrass, is something the matter?"
"I have a difficult point in Advanced Transfiguration I'd like to ask you about."
Daphne made an excuse, straightening her back like a proud white swan.
"Of course," Draco smiled and made a 'please' gesture.
Chapter 68: This Kind of Trash is Called a Forbidden Zone? Malfoy's Back Garden!
The two sat down by the fireplace.
Daphne observed Draco while asking her questions.
Draco explained patiently, but "inadvertently" mentioned something.
"Your questions are very deep; Miss Granger asked something similar a few days ago. I must say, although her bloodline is lowly, her diligence is indeed worth learning from for some pure-bloods."
These words were like a thorn, stabbing into Daphne's heart.
He was comparing her to a mudblood? He even praised that mudblood? Was he implying she was inferior to her?
Daphne's competitiveness was ignited.
"Diligence? Malfoy, some things are innate. The talent brought by bloodline is not something that can be compensated for by diligence alone," she retorted coldly.
"Is that so?" Draco smiled noncommittally. "Perhaps. But I only value results."
His polite yet distant attitude seemed to tell Daphne: If you cannot prove you are more valuable than her, you won't get special treatment from me.
Daphne was provoked.
She, Daphne Greengrass, how could she possibly lose to a mudblood!
She took a deep breath and made a decision.
"Draco," she called him by his name for the first time, her green eyes staring intently at him.
"This holiday, my family will host a Midsummer Ball. I hope you can be my partner."
This was a blunt signal.
"Oh?" Draco feigned contemplation.
"Many ancient pure-blood families of Europe will be present then," Daphne added to the stakes.
"I think we can take this opportunity to have some deeper... communication regarding the future of our families."
This was a rehearsal for a political marriage.
"Since Miss Greengrass is so hospitable," Draco looked at her face, which was written all over with a refusal to lose, and finally smiled.
"I would be honored."
"Then, I'll see you at the ball."
Having received a satisfactory answer, Daphne turned and left haughtily.
Draco watched her back, picked up a quill, and lightly checked off "Greengrass Family" on a parchment list.
Another addition to the harem reserve.
He only needed to sacrifice Hermione's reputation a little; she should be quite willing to make this "contribution" for him... Exam week began.
The Charms Class practical exam required making a pineapple tap dance.
When it was Draco's turn, he gave his wand a light flick, and the pineapple didn't just perform a magnificent Flamenco.
In the end, amidst a silver light, it transformed into a silver snuffbox engraved with the Malfoy Family crest.
"Brilliant! Simply brilliant!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands and directly gave him an "O+" super-perfect score.
Next was Ron.
He gripped his broken wand, which almost had its core showing, and shouted at the pineapple, "Dance! Hurry up and dance for me!"
The pineapple wobbled twice.
BOOM!
With a loud bang, the pineapple exploded, and the sour juice splattered all over Professor Flitwick's face.
The whole room burst into laughter. Ron's face turned the color of a pig's liver.
After the exam, in the corridor, Draco happened to cross paths with a dejected Ron and Harry.
He stopped, wiping his wand with a silk handkerchief, his voice loud enough for everyone around to hear:
"Weasley, I have a suggestion. You should go raise pigs after graduation."
Ron glared at him. "What did you say?"
Draco chuckled, his eyes full of pity.
"After all, only pigs wouldn't look down on your IQ and that broken wand."
"You!" Ron was flushed with rage but speechless.
Harry held back the impulsive Ron, staring at Draco with eyes mixed with hatred and wariness.
Draco didn't bother to give him another glance, leading his followers away, surrounded by Slytherins.
The bell for the end of the final exam rang.
Students rushed out of the examination rooms as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
But Harry's expression suddenly changed as if he had remembered something.
In the desperate situation of being isolated by everyone and having nowhere to turn, a detail he had overlooked suddenly hit him.
Hagrid!
The coincidence of him losing a dragon egg in a pub!
He grabbed Ron and Hermione, who hadn't reacted yet, and rushed toward Hagrid's hut like a madman.
Under Harry's questioning, Hagrid quickly let something slip.
"Oh, Fluffy, that Cerberus... just play it some music, and it'll fall right asleep..."
Music!
Harry understood! The stranger who gave Hagrid the dragon egg did it just to fish out this secret!
It must be Snape! He's going to steal the Philosopher's Stone tonight!
"We have to go stop him!" Harry said excitedly to the two.
He immediately ran to find Professor McGonagall.
"Potter, the exams are over, stop making up these ridiculous stories!" Professor McGonagall looked stern.
"Headmaster Dumbledore received an urgent letter from the Ministry of Magic an hour ago and has already left for London; he won't be back tonight."
Gone to London? At this time?
Harry's heart sank to the bottom. This was Snape's best chance!
"Professor, it's true! Please believe me!"
"My patience is limited, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall's gaze was unquestionable.
"If you three dare to sneak out of the dormitory again tonight, I wouldn't mind making Gryffindor's points negative."
Nowhere to turn for help.
Harry was completely desperate.
No one would believe him; he could only rely on himself.
Late at night, Gryffindor Common Room.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione put on the invisibility cloak, preparing to sneak out.
This was Harry's final struggle, and he forcibly dragged along the hesitant pair.
Just as they were about to climb through the portrait hole, a trembling figure blocked their way.
It was Neville Longbottom.
He was in his pajamas, his face full of fear, but his gaze was firm.
"I... I can't let you go!" He summoned his courage, spreading his arms to block them.
"I... I won't let you get Gryffindor points deducted again! If you insist on going out... you... you'll have to knock me down first!"
Hermione frowned and raised her wand.
Right then.
Clap, clap, clap.
A series of crisp claps came from the shadows of the Common Room.
The three snapped their heads back to see Draco Malfoywalking out from beside the fireplace with a smile.
When did he get in?!
"How touching, Longbottom." Draco's tone was full of mockery. "Gryffindor-style, foolish courage."
He didn't even bother to chant.
With a light flick of his wand, a non-verbal spell hit Neville.
Neville's body instantly stiffened, maintaining his pose with arms spread, falling straight backward like a ridiculous statue.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at him in horror.
Draco walked up to them, his gaze sweeping over the three before stopping on Harry's face, revealing a cat-and-mouse smile.
"Since our great savior is in such a hurry to go to his death..."
He paused, his voice carrying an irresistible dominance and a malicious "kindness."
"As a Slytherin who cares about his classmates, how could I not 'help' you?"
"And incidentally, supervise you so you don't do anything stupid again."
Chapter 69: What's a Cerberus? Just Malfoy's Pet!
"You... don't you dare!"
Ron's face flushed red as his hand reached for his worn-out wand.
Draco didn't even lift his eyelids, merely sweeping a glance at him from the corner of his eye.
Ron's words caught in his throat, and his hand reaching for the wand froze in mid-air.
He had a premonition that if he moved even a fraction more, he would end up just like Neville in the corridor.
"Potter, you have a misunderstanding of your invisibility cloak." Draco's voice was flat.
"It is precious, but it isn't omnipotent. For instance, it can't cover four people." "Are you planning to perform a farce in the Castle with eight feet showing?"
Harry and Hermione's faces turned pale instantly.
Their minds were filled with Snape, and they had completely forgotten this most basic problem.
Draco let out a light chuckle as he watched their embarrassed expressions.
"However, I can provide a solution." He waved the wand in his hand.
"I can cast a Disillusionment Charm on you. Of course, whether the effect is good or bad depends on your subsequent performance."
This was a threat, undisguised.
Harry clenched his fists, his fingernails digging deep into his palms.
He felt like a clown; all his plans and determination were utterly ridiculous in front of this man.
"Let's go, Potter."
Draco stepped aside and made an elegant "after you" gesture, as if inviting him to a grand ball.
"Don't keep your arch-enemy waiting."
Humiliation, anger, powerlessness.
Harry had no choice.
Under the surveillance of Draco's wand, the three were forced to follow.
Three faint ripples spread from the tip of Draco's wand, enveloping them.
"Keep close. If you're exposed because of your stupidity, I can't guarantee my wand won't misfire."
He walked at the very front with a composed pace, looking less like he was exploring a forbidden area at night and more like he was inspecting his own back garden.
Harry and the others followed behind, every step feeling like they were walking on the edge of a blade.
They soon reached the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor.
The door was ajar, and a heavy, rank stench of a beast wafted toward them.
"Roar—"
A dull growl came from behind the door; the sound alone made Ron's legs go weak.
Harry pushed open the door.
A massive Cerberus blocked their path, six eyes gleaming with a fierce light.
Saliva dripped from between its fangs, sizzling as it corroded the stone floor into white smoke.
"Fluffy!" Harry whispered hoarsely, frantically rummaging through his pockets.
"Hagrid said... use music... the flute, where's my flute?"
He became increasingly flustered, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
Ron was already white as a sheet, only able to point a trembling finger at the monster.
Hermione also gripped her wand tightly, her mind racing.
Draco, who had been standing aside watching the show, moved at this moment.
He simply raised his hand and snapped his fingers crisply at the colossal beast.
"Shh."
An invisible ripple spread out.
Fluffy's three heads froze simultaneously, and the frantic roaring came to an abrupt halt.
One of the heads even let out a lazy yawn.
This didn't put it completely to sleep, but the scene had already left Harry and the others stunned.
A single snap of the fingers calmed the Cerberus?
What kind of magic was this?
"Potter, your efficiency is as worrying as Weasley's IQ." Draco's mocking voice broke the dead silence.
Harry snapped out of it and finally pulled the wooden flute given by Hagrid from his pocket.
His face flushed as he brought the flute to his lips and blew out an out-of-tune melody.
As the flute played, Fluffy's remaining two heads drooped, and its massive body crashed to the ground with thunderous snoring.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and when he looked at Draco again, there was something else in his gaze.
Draco ignored him and walked straight to the trapdoor, kicking the copper ring on it with the tip of his shoe.
"savior's responsibility, Potter." He gestured elegantly. "After you."
These words were polite, but to Harry's ears, they were more grating than any curse.
He was saying: Go scout the way, my cannon fodder.
Harry gritted his teeth, his gums seeping blood.
He knew Draco was doing it on purpose.
But he had no choice.
He took a deep breath, pulled open the trapdoor, and leaped into the bottomless darkness below.
"Harry!" Ron cried out and followed suit.
Only Draco and Hermione remained by the trapdoor.
In the darkness, the rank smell of decaying plants surged upward.
Hermione looked into the darkness with some fear.
Draco didn't speak; he just reached out and put his arm around her waist.
"Ah..."
Hermione gave a short gasp, her body instantly stiffening.
His palm felt burning hot through her robes. A strong masculine scent completely enveloped her.
Before she could react, Draco had already pulled her close and jumped into the deep darkness with her.
In the moment of falling, Hermione instinctively clung to Draco tightly.
In Draco's mind, the system's notification sounded at the right moment.
[Ding! Deep physical interaction with high-potential target [Hermione Granger] in a dangerous environment detected. Bond charging efficiency increased by 15%!]
The darkness swallowed them, along with Hermione's final struggles.
The feeling of weightlessness lasted only a few seconds.
"Thud!"
"Ouch!"
A dull thud of a heavy object landing and Ron's exaggerated cry of pain came from below.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut nervously, waiting for the sharp pain of impact.
However, the expected pain did not come.
The falling speed suddenly slowed down, as if an invisible hand was supporting them.
She carefully opened one eye and found herself being held in Draco's arms in a bridal carry, descending slowly.
There wasn't a hint of tension on Draco's face; he even looked down and gave her a reassuring smile.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here."
His voice was exceptionally magnetic in the darkness, and Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
Her feet landed steadily on the ground, which was soft and damp with a peculiar elasticity.
Draco let go, and Hermione's cheeks were already flushed deep red.
"Thank you..." she whispered.
A ball of light lit up at the tip of Draco's wand, illuminating the surroundings.
They had landed on a massive, slippery net of plants. Harry and Ron were trapped inside in a sorry state.
"What the hell is this?" Ron struggled to stand up, but the vines coiled around his ankles like snakes, tightening with every movement.
"Don't move!" Hermione recognized it immediately and cried out, "It's Devils Snare! The more you struggle, the tighter it binds!"
"Then what do we do?" Harry also realized something was wrong; his arms were already locked by several vines.
The Devils Snare felt the struggle and became excited.
Countless vines surged from all directions, frantically wrapping around Harry and Ron, soon coiling toward their necks and making them let out painful whimpers.
Ron's face began to turn purple.
"Incendio!" Hermione was about to cast the spell.
A hand pressed down on hers.
It was Draco.
"No rush," his voice carried a hint of amusement, "let them learn a lesson."
"But they'll die!" Hermione said anxiously.
"They won't die." Draco's tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
He held Hermione's hand that was holding the wand and didn't let go.
Hermione felt a faint but peculiar magic conducting from Draco's palm to her wand and then radiating out.
A curve that went unnoticed by anyone tugged at the corner of Draco's lips.
He had a more interesting idea.
These Devils Snare vines coiling at their feet, upon contact with this faint lightning magic, did not retreat but instead wriggled excitedly.
Swish! Swish!
Several thick vines suddenly shot up, bypassing the struggling Harry and Ron and coiling directly toward Hermione, who was closest to them.
"Ah!"
Hermione didn't have time to react before her ankle tightened and she fell backward.
She fell into a warm embrace.
It was Draco.
More vines surged up.
They didn't cover her roughly; instead, they coiled and spiraled around her curves.
The vines continued to tighten, outlining the girl's youthful beauty.
"Mm..."
Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to suppress the strange sound in her throat.
An unnatural flush rose to her cheeks, her body began to go limp, and her breathing became rapid.
Draco looked down at the girl's reaction in his arms, his eyes showing satisfaction.
He deliberately didn't intervene, allowing the vines to pin Hermione in his embrace.
"Draco... quick... stop..." Hermione's voice carried a sob, but it sounded more like she was acting spoiled.
[Ding! Deep physical interaction with high-potential target [Hermione Granger] detected. Target's emotions are fluctuating violently; bond charging efficiency significantly increased!]
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining a temporary trait: [Plant Affinity (Weak)]! Your control over magical plants has increased slightly!]
On the other side, Ron's eyes had begun to roll back; he was on the verge of suffocating.
Draco felt he had seen enough of the show.
His other free hand unhurriedly raised his wand.
This time, he didn't hold back.
A fierce Dragon of fire erupted from the tip of his wand, the searing heatwave sweeping through the entire space.
The Devils Snare shrieked, all the vines retracting as if electrocuted, vanishing into the dark corners.
Harry and Ron slumped on the ground, gasping for air, their faces filled with lingering fear.
Hermione, her whole body limp, remained slumped in Draco's arms, unable to stand.
"Like a Troll trapped in slug slime." Draco looked down at the disheveled Ron and commented contemptuously.
Then, he lowered his head, leaned close to Hermione's ear, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Just now... the sound you made was really pleasant."
Boom.
Shame, anger, and the panic of having her secret seen through made Hermione wish she could find a hole to crawl into.
But her body betrayed her will.
Draco's warm breath blew against her ear, sending goosebumps all over her body.
She discovered that she had developed an even more morbid dependence on this man.
Just then, a flurry of wingbeats came from the passage ahead, as dense as a rainstorm.
"It seems the welcoming ceremony for the next stage has begun."
Draco let go of Hermione and helped her stand steady, his tone returning to its usual flatness, as if that devilish whisper had been nothing more than Hermione's hallucination.
He tidied his impeccable robes and took the lead toward the source of the sound.
Harry and Ron struggled to their feet, their hearts filled with confusion and an increasingly intense jealousy.
They didn't know what had just happened.
But they could feel that Hermione... was drifting further and further away from them.
Chapter 70: Victory of the Pay-to-Win Player! Instant Kill across the Field!
Passing through a long corridor, they entered a dark room with an impossibly high ceiling.
The room was dimly lit, with thousands of colorful winged keys circling and fluttering in mid-air.
At the other end of the room was a heavy wooden door.
"It's locked." Harry ran over and gave it a push, then tried Alohomora, but the wooden door didn't budge.
"The key must be among them."
"Look over there!" Ron pointed to a corner.
Leaning there were several old flying brooms; the tail of one was still twitching, looking as if it were about to fall apart.
"We have to fly up and catch the right one," Hermionesaid.
Harry Potter's eyes lit up.
Flight.
It was his proudest talent.
From the Devils Snare until just now, he had been suppressed by Draco; now, it was finally his home turf.
He was going to prove to everyone, especially Draco, that he, Harry Potter, was not useless.
"Leave it to me." Harry grabbed the sturdiest-looking old broom and swung his leg over it.
The broom rose unsteadily into the air, but Harry's movements were agile.
He dove into the flock of keys, his eyes scanning rapidly for the one that stood out.
"That's the one!" He soon spotted his target.
Among a pile of brass and silver keys was a large, old-fashioned silver key with an injured wing, flying with great effort.
Harry dove his broom toward it.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch the tattered wing, the key swerved nimbly and dodged him.
"Damn it!" Harry cursed and immediately turned to give chase.
He wove through the swarm of keys at high speed, drawing cheers from Ron below.
"Go, Harry! You've almost got it!"
Hermione also watched the air nervously.
On the ground, Draco folded his arms and scoffed.
"Flashy and a waste of time."
His voice wasn't loud, but Hermione and Ron heard him clearly.
Ron immediately retorted, "What did you say? Harry is the best Seeker! If you're so good, why don't you try!"
"Me?"
Draco looked as if he had heard a joke.
Ignoring Ron, he leisurely reached into his robe pocket.
The pocket looked very shallow, yet his hand reached almost all the way inside.
The Undetectable Extension Charm.
Hermione's pupils contracted; this was yet another piece of magic far beyond the level of a first-year.
The next second, Draco pulled a completely pitch-black flying broom from his pocket.
The broom had sleek lines, a tail made of cold-gleaming metal fins, and a silver "M" family crest engraved on the end of the handle.
The moment it appeared, all the light in the room seemed to be drawn toward it.
"What... what broom is that?" Ron's eyes went wide.
He had never seen such a cool broom.
"A gift from the Nimbus Company last year," Draco said flatly.
"The 'Nimbus 2200' prototype. They call it 'nightmare'. It's a bit faster than the nimbus 2001, but not very stable."
Hermione gasped.
The nimbus 2001 was already the best broom on the market; the one in Draco's hand was actually an even faster prototype.
Harry also saw the commotion on the ground from mid-air.
When he saw that black broom, his heart sank abruptly.
Jealousy seared his heart.
Why did Malfoy have everything? Family background, magic, and now even his broom was a top-tier item Harrycould only dream of!
In the moment he was distracted, the silver key slipped through his fingers once again.
Draco mounted the "nightmare" and gave a light kick.
The black broom rose silently from the ground and hovered steadily in the air.
Draco did not rush into the swarm of keys.
He hovered in place and closed his eyes. The flow of air around him and the flight paths of every key became clear in his mind.
He even "heard" the unique, faint noise made by the injured key's wings as they flapped.
Found it.
Draco leaned forward.
The "nightmare" gave a soft hum and turned into a black afterimage.
He didn't chase it; instead, he appeared directly at the key's next landing point.
Harry's mind went blank; he only saw a flash of black light, and Draco was already ahead of him.
Draco reached out with one hand and pinched precisely.
The antique silver key that had been toying with Harrystruggled frantically between his fingers but could not move.
A deathly silence filled the room.
Ron stood with his mouth agape, forgetting to speak.
Hermione gazed at the figure in the air, a strange light shining in her eyes.
Harry stopped in mid-air, staring blankly at the key in Draco's hand, then at the shaking, broken broom between his own legs.
His greatest pride was, at this moment, completely shattered.
Draco landed gracefully.
He walked beneath Harry and casually tossed the still-struggling key upward.
"Go open the door, Potter."
Harry caught the key mechanically, his face deathly pale.
He landed clumsily, not daring to look at Draco again, and rushed toward the door as if fleeing.
The key was inserted into the keyhole and turned.
*Click.*
The heavy wooden door slowly opened.
Behind the door was a massive black-and-white chessboard.
Giant stone chess pieces stood silently, as if countless gazes were locked onto them.
The air was thick with a murderous intent.
"We have to cross this," Hermione's voice was a bit nervous. "It looks like we have to play a real game of chess."
Ron, who had been dejected, suddenly had his eyes light up.
wizards chess!
This was what he was best at!
"I'm good at this!" Ron immediately puffed out his chest and spoke up, "You all follow my lead! I promise to get us across!"
He impatiently stepped onto the chessboard, sizing up the layout.
"Harry, you be a Black Bishop. Hermione, you be a Castle. I'll be a Knight!"
He walked spiritedly toward a black stone horse.
"Stop."
A cold voice interrupted him.
Draco stepped onto the chessboard, his leather shoes making a crisp sound as they stepped on the black and white squares.
He scanned the layout of the chessboard.
"Weasley, put away your pathetic vanity," Draco's voice was devoid of emotion. "This isn't a game; it's war."
"What did you say?" Ron's face flushed red. "I'm very good at chess!"
"I don't need to ask a waste who couldn't even catch a key," Draco interrupted. "I only trust my own judgment."
He pointed his wand at the white pieces opposite them.
"The opponent is playing a 'Sicilian Defense variant', prepared to exchange pieces from the opening. And you, Weasley, I've seen your style—reckless and full of unnecessary self-sacrifice. If I let you lead, we'll all be finished within ten moves."
Draco turned and looked Ron directly in the eye, his gaze contemptuous.
"Your IQ is only fit for being the first pawn to be sacrificed."
"You!" Ron trembled with rage, but couldn't say a single word.
Everything Draco said was right. When he played chess, he indeed liked to use the Knight to charge.
Hermione and Harry were both stunned. Was Draco even this proficient in wizards chess tactics?
"Shut up, Weasley," Draco's voice turned cold.
"From now on, I command. You follow orders. Anyone who dares to question me will face the consequences."
Ron still wanted to argue, but meeting Draco's platinum-colored eyes, he felt as though he were being watched by a snake.
A chill rose from behind his back.
Draco stared at him, and a faint thread of mental energy pierced into Ron's brain.
Ron's eyes went blank, and he subconsciously closed his mouth.
"Very good." Draco nodded.
He reassigned the positions, while he himself walked over to the side of the Black King.
"Game start."
At Draco's command, a white pawn on the opposite side moved forward one square, making a heavy grinding sound.
The game had begun.
Draco's way of playing was just like the man himself: full of aggression and cold calculation.
Every move was lethal, aimed directly at the opponent's vitals.
Under his command, Harry's Bishop and Hermione's Castle were like two sharp blades, constantly cutting through the white side's formation.
On the board, the stone pieces collided violently and shattered.
Every "capture" was a moment of real destruction. The struck pieces would explode into fragments, with rubble flying everywhere.
Harry and Hermione were kept busy running under his command, their hearts pounding with fear, yet they found that they were able to narrowly avoid the opponent's attacks every time, remaining completely unharmed.
Draco had calculated everything with absolute clarity.
The game soon reached a critical stage.
Draco needed to sacrifice a piece to lure and kill the white queen, opening a path.
His gaze fell upon the Knight that Ron was substituting for.
"Weasley," he spoke coldly.
Ron's dull eyes twitched.
"Forward three squares, right one square," Draco ordered.
That position was within the white queen's attack range—a dead end.
"No... don't!" Hermione saw his intention and cried out, "Ron will..."
"Shut up!" Draco barked sharply. "Victory requires sacrifice."
He looked at Ron, his tone devoid of any emotion.
"This is your only value. Go."
Under Draco's mental command, Ron's body moved uncontrollably.
The stone horse he sat upon carried him, step by step, toward the place of death.
The white queen moved.
She raised her stone sword and slashed down hard against Ron's stone horse.
*Bang!*
A massive explosion sounded.
The stone horse shattered into pieces.
Ron was sent flying by the massive impact, his head slamming hard against the solid chessboard squares, and he was knocked unconscious on the spot.
A smear of blood spread across the black stone floor.
"Ron!" Harry cried out, wanting to rush over.
"Stay in your position, Potter!" Draco's voice was like ice.
Hermione covered her mouth, her body trembling with fear.
She looked at her friend in the pool of blood, then at the man who had given the order.
Draco stepped over the rubble and past Ron's unconscious body.
Because of Ron's "sacrifice," the white queen's position was completely exposed.
"Castle, take the Queen."
Hermione's whole body shuddered as she moved mechanically.
The Castle piece representing her charged forward, smashing the white queen to pieces.
"Checkmate."
Draco's voice echoed in the empty room like a final judgment.
The White King opposite them took off his crown and threw it on the ground.
The door leading to the next level slowly opened.
Harry rushed to Ron's side and checked his breath; finding that he was still breathing, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He looked up, glaring at Draco with eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and fear.
"You're crazy! You almost killed him!"
Draco looked down at him from above.
"I saved us all, Potter."
Having said that, he no longer paid any mind to Harry's roaring and walked straight toward the next door.
"As for him," Draco's footsteps paused for a moment without him turning back, "he was finally of some use."
Looking at Draco's cold and resolute back, Hermione felt half fear and half an uncontrollable shiver in her heart.
Reason told her this was a demon, but her soul was held fast by this power that stopped at nothing.
She knew she could not turn back.
A foul stench came from the passage ahead.
It was the smell of a Troll.
But when they walked into the next room, they found a massive Mountain Troll already lying on the ground with a large lump on its head.
It seemed Quirrell had already cleared this level for them.
Only the final puzzle remained.
Chapter 71: Choice of Black Flames, Hegemony of Monopolizing the Path to Life
Stepping over the unconscious Troll, the three arrived before the final door.
Behind the door was a small circular room, with magical flames burning at both ends.
One was purple, one was black, sealing the exits completely.
On a small table in the center of the room sat a piece of parchment and seven bottles of various shapes.
"A logic puzzle," Hermione said, immediately walking over and picking up the parchment to read aloud in a low voice.
This allowed her to temporarily forget the bloodiness of the chessboard.
"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind... Two among us will help you on your way..."
The poem was long and filled with logical traps.
"Three are poison, two are Nettle Wine, one will let us pass through the black fire, and one will take us back..."
Hermione's brow furrowed, her mind racing as she pulled out her wand, ready to work it out on the floor.
Harry looked at her, then at the unconscious Ron and the two flames, his heart burning with anxiety.
"Found it."
A flat voice rang out.
Hermione looked up sharply and saw that Draco had already picked up the most inconspicuous bottle from among the seven.
Inside the bottle was an almost colorless liquid.
She had only just finished reading the prompt.
"How did you..." Hermione's words caught in her throat.
It was impossible.
Not even Professor Snape himself could have been this fast.
Of course, Draco wasn't relying on reasoning, but on memory.
To him, the challenge designed by Snape was an open-book exam.
He knew exactly which was poison, which was Nettle Wine, and which was only enough for one person.
"Your little head is a bit more useful than Weasley's, but it's still too slow, Granger."
Draco swirled the small bottle in his hand, the liquid refracting a strange luster.
"In the face of true danger, by the time you're done calculating, we'll all be stone cold."
These words precisely shattered Hermione's pride as a top student.
Looking at Draco's handsome and confident face, she felt intellectually crushed for the first time.
Was there anything this man couldn't do?
Draco pulled out the stopper, and a cool fragrance wafted out.
He glanced at the pitifully small amount of potion in the bottle; it was indeed only enough for one gulp.
His gaze turned toward Hermione.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
Draco reached out with his other hand, his slender fingers brushing against her cheek.
"Hermione," his voice was soft, yet it carried an air of irresistible authority.
"You stay behind."
"What?" Hermione froze.
"Stay here and take care of that useless Weasley." Draco's fingertip stopped at her lower lip, gently stroking it.
"And, guard the door with the purple flames. Don't let anyone through."
It was a command.
Looking into his platinum-blond eyes, Hermione felt as if her thoughts had been drained away.
Her worry for Harry and sympathy for Ron were completely crushed in this moment by that gaze and that action.
She could only nod subconsciously.
"Mhm..."
In her eyes, there was only a deep, inseparable sense of admiration and obedience.
Draco withdrew his hand with satisfaction and turned toward the last person in the room—Harry Potter.
Harry was looking at him warily, one hand supporting Ron and the other tightly gripping his wand.
"Malfoy, what are you doing?"
"What am I doing? Going to stop 'Snape' and fulfill your business as savior," Draco said as if it were a matter of course, raising the potion bottle in his hand.
"Good luck, Potter. This bottle of potion looks like it's enough for the two of us to share."
He walked toward Harry.
Harry was skeptical. Would Malfoy be so kind?
Draco walked up to him and held out the bottle.
Just as Harry reached out to take it, Draco flicked his wrist and took a large gulp himself.
Then, using a visual blind spot, he tilted the bottle to make it look to Harry like he had truly only drunk half.
In reality, the bottle was already empty.
"Here." Draco stuffed the empty bottle into Harry's hand.
Harry didn't suspect a thing and tilted his head back to drink the non-existent "other half."
"Alright then, Potter," Draco patted him on the shoulder with an encouraging smile on his face.
"savior should be the first to lead the charge."
He gave a sudden shove!
The defenseless Harry was pushed directly into the black flames!
"You!"
Harry only had time to let out a cry of surprise before crashing headlong into the wall of fire.
There was no burning sensation; the flames slid over his body with a cool touch. He had passed through.
Harry staggered a few steps to steady himself and looked back, his eyes full of horror.
Harry was simply the pathfinding stone he used to trigger the boss.
Draco took another identical small bottle out of his pocket.
This was a full bottle of the real stuff he had duplicated using the System Warehouse the moment he turned around.
He gracefully drank the potion and casually tossed the empty bottle onto the ground.
Under the shocked gazes of Hermione and Harry, he stepped into the black flames as if taking a leisurely stroll.
The flames closed behind him once more.
In the final room, a figure in purple robes stood with his back to him, stuttering to himself.
The mirror of erised stood at the end of the room.
Professor Quirrell—or rather, Lord Voldemort—was waiting for his "prey."
But he didn't know that the real hunter was already behind him.
Harry Potter had just passed through the flames and hadn't even steadied himself when he felt a chill on the back of his neck.
An invisible rope appeared out of thin air, binding him tightly and slamming him onto the floor.
"You... you..."
Harry looked up in terror, seeing not Snape, but the usually stuttering and cowardly Professor Quirrell.
At this moment, there was no trace of cowardice on Quirrell's face, only a twisted, hideous expression.
"Potter, we finally meet." Quirrell's voice no longer stuttered; it was sharp and unfamiliar.
"Snape... it was you all along!" Harry struggled, but the ropes only tightened.
"Snape?" Quirrell laughed neurotically. "No, he's just a fool who looks like a villain. It was always me."
He walked toward the mirror of erised.
"I need the thing inside the mirror... the Philosopher's Stone. But it won't give it to me."
"My master told me that only you, Potter—only one who wants to find it but not use it—can obtain it."
As Quirrell spoke, he unwound the garlic-scented Purple Turban from his head.
The turban fell away.
Harry's pupils contracted suddenly, and his stomach churned.
On the back of Quirrell's head, there was actually another face!
Pale as wax, with snake-like nostrils and blood-red eyes!
That face was the protagonist of all Harry's nightmares for the past ten years!
Lord Voldemort!
"Harry Potter..." the face spoke, its voice rasping like a snake's hiss. "We meet again."
"Ah!" A terrified gasp escaped Harry's throat.
Just then.
*Clap, clap, clap.*
Slow and clear applause came from the direction of the black flames behind them.
Quirrell and Lord Voldemort whipped their heads around.
Draco Malfoy slowly stepped out of the shadows, showing no panic; instead, he wore a smile as if he were watching a play.
"A brilliant performance, Professor Quirrell," Draco said, clapping as he approached. "And... you, Tom Riddle."
Tom Riddle!
As those words fell lightly, the air in the room instantly froze.
On the floor, Harry forgot to struggle.
The expression on Quirrell's face froze, replaced by extreme shock and terror.
On the back of the head, Lord Voldemort's face narrowed its blood-red eyes, shooting out a dangerous, snake-like light.
"Who... are you?" Lord Voldemort's voice was filled with alarm and suspicion.
That name hadn't been dared to be mentioned for too many years. Those who knew it were either dead or old fogeys like Dumbledore.
"How could a brat of the Malfoy Family possibly know?"
Chapter 72: Plundering the Remnant Soul, the Successor of Parseltongue
"Me?" Draco stopped at a safe distance, looking at Lord Voldemort's ugly face with a look of near pity.
"An audience member disappointed by your taste."
"Tom, I'm really curious." Draco's tone was full of mockery.
"How could the Dark Lord of back then fall so low as to parasitize a piece of trash like Quirrell?"
He sized Quirrell up and down.
"Cowardly, mediocre, and carrying a cheap smell of garlic... Honestly, your taste is getting more and more inferior."
"Impudence!"
Lord Voldemort was enraged.
How many years has it been! No one dared to speak to him in such a tone!
This was an insult!
"Kill him! Quirrell! Kill him for me!" Lord Voldemort let out a sharp roar.
Quirrell snapped out of it as if waking from a dream, immediately raising his wand at Draco, his eyes full of spite.
"Malfoy! You arrogant brat! I'll make you pay!"
"Draco! Run!" Harry shouted desperately from the ground.
However, Draco just stood there quietly.
He slowly drew his hawthorn wand, the tip pointing casually at the ground in an arrogant posture.
"Run?" He chuckled softly.
"Why should I run?"
His gaze moved past Quirrell to look directly into Lord Voldemort's blood-red eyes, word by word.
"I just want to have a heart-to-heart with an 'old friend'."
The words 'old friend' were full of irony.
Lord Voldemort's rage reached its peak.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Under the urging, Quirrell hissed out the incantation.
A blinding green light tore through the air, shooting towards Draco's chest!
Harry closed his eyes in despair.
It was over.
Draco, however, did not dodge or avoid it.
Just as the green light was about to hit him, an alchemy amulet beneath his robes suddenly glowed with a blood-colored light.
The light formed a miniature shield.
The green light slammed into the blood shield and was silently annihilated.
The room was as silent as death.
Quirrell and Lord Voldemort both looked at the unharmed Draco with expressions like they had seen a ghost.
Harry also opened his eyes and saw this scene that overturned his understanding.
"An amulet tempered with dragons blood and Unicornblood, specifically designed to guard against such low-class sneak attacks."
Draco tapped his chest lightly with his wand, making a crisp sound.
He looked at the dumbfounded Lord Voldemort, his smile becoming increasingly brilliant.
"Tom, your attack is only at this level?"
"It seems that parasitic life has caused your power to decline even more severely than I imagined."
"Impossible... This is impossible!"
Quirrell looked at Draco, his voice trembling.
The Avada Kedavra curse was blocked by a first-year student?
Even with an alchemy amulet, it shouldn't have been this easy!
In Lord Voldemort's blood-red pupils, for the first time, contempt was gone, replaced by gravity.
He could feel a dominant aura from the boy that shared the same source as his own.
It was the Dark Arts! And it was frighteningly pure!
This boy from the Malfoy Family had a problem!
"You have many secrets, young Malfoy." Lord Voldemort's voice was hoarse, his contempt turning into greed.
"Very well, once I've dealt with Potter, I will personally cut you open and dig out all your secrets!"
"Is that so?" The smile on Draco's face didn't fade. "I'm afraid you won't get the chance."
He didn't bother wasting any more words.
To a madman, power is the only language.
"Crucio!"
With a wave of Draco's wand, a red light shot straight at Quirrell.
He raised his hand and used the most cruel Crucio curse!
Quirrell's expression changed drastically, and he dodged to the side in a panic.
The red light grazed his shoulder, leaving a scorched hole in the wall.
This casting speed and magical intensity were completely beyond his comprehension!
"You... you dare use an Unforgivable Curse!" Quirrellexclaimed in shock and anger.
"Using an Unforgivable Curse on trash like you is a compliment."
Draco didn't give him a chance to breathe, waving his wand repeatedly as curses poured out.
"Sectumsempra!"
"Fiendfyre!"
"Impedimenta!"
They were all non-verbal spells, so fast they were mere afterimages.
Quirrell barely managed to parry with Lord Voldemort's assistance, but he had completely fallen into a disadvantage, only able to dodge and block.
The more he fought, the more alarmed he became.
This was no first-year student! Even an elite Auror was only at this level!
"Useless! Go grab Potter! Use him to exchange for the Philosopher's Stone!" Lord Voldemort roared in Quirrell's mind.
If they kept fighting, Quirrell's body would be worn out for sure.
Receiving the order, Quirrell used a feint to force Dracoback, then turned and lunged at Harry, who was tied up on the floor.
As long as he caught Harry, he could get the Philosopher's Stone!
As long as he got the Philosopher's Stone, he could be resurrected! A mere Malfoy could be crushed with a flip of his hand!
"Don't touch me!"
Harry looked at the lunging Quirrell, at those grey, withered hands tainted with Lord Voldemort's aura, and a strong sense of nausea welled up in his heart.
As soon as Quirrell's hand touched Harry's skin, it was like touching a red-hot iron, and white smoke immediately rose.
"Ah—!"
He let out a miserable scream as his palm blistered, charred, and turned to ash at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"Master! My hand!" Quirrell screamed in terror.
"Fool! Grab him! Don't let go!" Lord Voldemort ordered viciously.
Lily's protection of love was pure poison to Quirrell, who was contaminated by his soul.
Forced, Quirrell endured the agonizing pain and lunged at Harry again.
Out of instinct, Harry pressed his hands firmly against Quirrell's face.
"Aaaaaah—!"
An even more shrill scream echoed through the room.
Quirrell's face melted and disintegrated under Harry's hands, finally leaving only a pile of black smoking ash on the ground.
A wisp of black smoke with the outline of a human face screeched out from the ashes.
It was Lord Voldemort's remnant soul!
Having lost his host, he was incredibly weak, and his only thought was to escape!
The black smoke flew rapidly across the room, heading straight for Draco.
It wanted to pass through Draco's body to escape; for a soul body, passing through a living person was without obstacle.
However, at the moment the black smoke was about to pass through Draco.
Draco's eyes burst with wild joy.
This was exactly what he was waiting for!
[Ding! Unowned high-energy soul fragment detected! Skill [Soul Plunder] activated! Consuming 5000 points! Beginning plunder!]
An invisible suction enveloped that wisp of black smoke!
"No—!"
Lord Voldemort's remnant soul let out a silent scream.
He felt himself grabbed by an invisible giant hand, an irresistible force tearing at his soul!
He wanted to struggle, but before the system's rule-level power, this bit of resistance was weak and laughable.
*Rip—*
It was as if a tearing sound came from deep within his soul.
A large piece of that black smoke was forcibly torn off!
The remaining part let out a venomous screech, turned into a stream of light, and fled through the wall in a panic.
The torn soul fragment turned into a black light and surged into Draco's body!
"Ugh!"
Draco groaned in pain and fell to one knee.
A massive, chaotic torrent of memories rushed into his mind.
Slaughter, torture, Dark Arts experiments, obsession with immortality... those were memory fragments belonging to Tom Riddle!
The intense pain almost made him faint, but a fanatical smile appeared on his face.
He had gambled correctly!
[Ding! Soul fragment plundered successfully! Obtained partial knowledge of Dark Arts! [Dark Arts Mastery(Incomplete)] unlocked!]
[Ding! Obtained Talent: [Parseltongue]!]
[Ding! Host's mental strength is under impact, emergency repair in progress...]
Draco endured the sharp pain, feeling the skyrocketing magic power and the additional knowledge within him, his heart full of satisfaction.
Just then, hurried footsteps came from the distance.
Dumbledore was here!
The wild joy in Draco's eyes instantly faded, replaced by a look of "weakness" and "exhaustion."
Time for acting.
He swayed his body as if his magic power was overextended, and slowly, convincingly collapsed onto the ground.
Before losing consciousness, he caught a glimpse of the hurrying Dumbledore out of the corner of his eye.
He gave that white-bearded old man a look.
A heroic look of "sparing nothing to protect savior."
Then, he closed his eyes and completely "fainted."