Chapter 106: Death of the Basilisk! Harvest of the Soul!
"It's you!" Harry finally realized. "You are the heir of Slytherin!"
"Of course." Riddle bowed elegantly. "But 'heir' is too small a title; I have long since surpassed Slytherin."
"I have given myself a new name. A name that will one day make the entire wizarding world tremble."
He raised Harry's wand and traced three glowing words in the air.
Tom MARVOLO Riddle
With a flick of the wand, the letters rearranged themselves.
I AM Lord Voldemort
Lord Voldemort.
This name was like a heavy hammer, slamming hard against Harry's heart.
The boy before him was the monster who had killed his parents and left the scar on his forehead!
"That's right." Riddle was very satisfied with Harry's expression.
"The strange thing is, my Killing Curse actually rebounded on you."
"I lost all my power and became something less than a ghost, yet you survived."
"So, I lured you here because I wanted to know why."
"Now, let's begin."
Riddle turned to face the statue of Slytherin, emitting a series of hissing Parseltongue from his mouth.
The statue's giant mouth slowly opened, and a massive shadow slithered out.
The Basilisk!
Its body was thicker than an oak trunk, its green scales glinting in the gloom.
Those massive, intact yellow eyes stared intently at Harry.
"Using Parseltongue against the Basilisk?" Riddlechuckled. "It only obeys the commands of Slytherinhimself!"
Harry's mind went blank; his survival instinct made him immediately shut his eyes and turn to run.
Behind him, the roar of the Basilisk and the sound of its body scraping against the stone floor pursued him relentlessly.
Just as the foul wind was about to reach the back of his neck, a high-pitched bird's cry echoed through the hall.
A mass of fiery red shadows descended from the sky.
Dumbledore's Phoenix, Fawkes!
Fawkes turned into a streak of red light, charging straight at the Basilisk's head.
The Basilisk reared its head, trying to kill the bird with its yellow eyes, but Fawkes was faster.
Its sharp beak pecked precisely at those fatal eyes!
"Hiss—!"
The Basilisk let out a shriek of agony as two streams of blood spurted from its eye sockets.
It was blind!
Fawkes circled in the air and dropped something that landed right at Harry's feet.
A tattered Sorting Hat.
Harry's heart sank. At a time like this, what use was a hat?
The Basilisk thrashed its body wildly in pain, its massive tail sweeping across.
Harry didn't have time to think; he grabbed the hat, shoved it onto his head, and scrambled to roll out of the way.
Something hard pressed against the top of his head inside the hat.
He reached in and, to his surprise, pulled out a silver-gleaming longsword! A massive ruby was set into the hilt.
The Sword of Godric Gryffindor!
Harry gripped the hilt, a surge of warmth spreading through his body. He stopped running and turned to face the beast, which had become even more frenzied due to its blindness.
Taking advantage of his small stature, he darted between the stone pillars, constantly evading the Basilisk's lunges and bites.
Seizing an opportunity, he scrambled up the statue of Slytherin, baiting the Basilisk to follow.
The beast opened its cavernous maw, lunging at him with a foul-smelling gale.
Now!
Using all his strength, Harry plunged the Sword of Gryffindor deep into the Basilisk's wide-open upper jaw!
The longsword sank in up to the hilt!
The Basilisk let out its final scream of life, its massive body crashing down from the statue into the canal, sending up a colossal splash.
Harry slid down, exhausted. He had won.
A sharp pain shot through his right arm. He looked down and saw a broken Basilisk fang embedded deep in his flesh.
The venom was spreading.
His vision began to blur, his body rapidly grew cold, and his strength was slowly drained away.
"You won, Harry," Riddle's voice sounded in his ear, full of mockery. "You killed the Basilisk, but you're going to die too. How interesting."
"Once I've drained Ginny dry, I'll leave this place and become the greatest Wizard in the history of Hogwarts."
"And you can rot here along with the bones of your mudblood friend."
Harry lay on the ground, unable to even move a finger.
Am I dying... Just as his consciousness was about to sink into darkness, an unfamiliar voice rang out in the hall, carrying a hint of amusement.
"A wonderful performance, Senior Tom."
Riddle's laughter stopped.
He turned in shock; a figure in black combat gear was standing behind him, though he hadn't noticed when they arrived.
Draco Malfoy.
The smile on his face was both elegant and cold as he approached step by step.
"Malfoy?" Riddle's eyes were full of wariness. "How are you here?"
"Me? I'm here to wrap things up, of course." Draco's smile widened.
"Do you think you're the chess player, Tom?"
"You and I are both just pawns. It's just that I'm the one who will eventually capture all the pieces."
No sooner had he spoken than Draco's figure vanished from the spot!
The next moment, he appeared behind Riddle.
This speed was so fast that Riddle's soul form had no time to react!
"Goodbye."
Draco's voice whispered in his ear.
A black dagger shimmering with runes slid from his sleeve, piercing precisely into the core of Riddle's solidified body!
"Ah—!"
Riddle let out an inhuman, shrill scream.
That Alchemical Dagger was the bane of all spiritual entities.
His body began to crumble, and black magic dissipated in all directions.
"No! This is impossible!" he screamed in terror.
"Nothing is impossible."
Draco's hand pressed directly onto the top of Riddle's head.
A suction force more overbearing and darker than Riddlehimself erupted from Draco's palm.
He was going to devour this soul fragment!
At this moment, the knowledge of the Dark Arts within Riddle's soul and the plundered magic were forcibly extracted by Draco's system!
"My power... my knowledge..."
Riddle's consciousness let out a final wail before being completely devoured.
Even in death, he couldn't understand why this descendant of the Malfoy Family possessed such unheard-of and terrifying methods!
Harry Potter lay on the cold stone floor, the Basiliskvenom already invading his brain.
His vision blurred into a haze.
In the final moment before he passed out, he only saw a tall figure appear behind Voldemort and attack him with something.
Voldemort was screaming, dissipating... who was that figure?
Was it... Professor Dumbledore?
It must be Professor Dumbledore who arrived... he... saved me... This was Harry's last thought before losing consciousness.
Draco felt the massive magic power and the vast amount of Dark Arts knowledge flooding into him, and he closed his eyes in satisfaction.
[Ding!]
[Successfully plundered the soul fragment of 'Tom Riddle'!]
[Congratulations to the host for obtaining: Dark Arts Knowledge Mastery (Voldemort Fragment), Parseltongue Mastery (Advanced), and partial Horcrux Sensing Ability!]
[The host's maximum magic power has been significantly increased!]
A bountiful harvest.
Draco opened his eyes and glanced at the unconscious Harry on the ground.
Fawkes's tears had already dripped onto the wound on his arm and were taking effect.
Beside him, Ginny's vitality was also slowly recovering.
A cold sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.
It's time... to clean up the scene.
Chapter 107: Legilimency! I Saw the Deepest Fears in Ginny's Mind!
At Hogwarts after the holidays, the sky looked like it was covered by a soaked gray rag, and the continuous drizzle brought a chill to the stone walls of the Castle.
The light in the corridors was dim, and the students' footsteps sounded somewhat heavy.
Ginny Weasley clutched her books, her head bowed, walking against the wall like a ghost.
Her condition was even worse than before the holidays.
That red hair, which should have burned like fire, was now dull and lifeless, clinging limply to the sides of her face.
Her cheeks were devoid of color, as pale as parchment, and heavy dark circles hung under her eyes, looking as if she hadn't closed them for days and nights.
She walked very slowly, her body swaying as if a gust of wind could knock her over.
Every student who passed her would subconsciously avoid her, as if she carried some ominous aura.
By the railing on the second floor, Draco Malfoy leaned against a cold stone sculpture, calmly looking down at that moving, fragile life below.
In his gaze, there was no sympathy or pity, only a nearly cold scrutiny.
On his system interface, the light representing Ginny Weasley was flickering at an unstable frequency.
[Target: Ginny Weasley]
[Status: Extremely weak mental state, vitality continuously draining...]
[Mental Threshold: 7/100 (Critical State)]
[Soul Link Strength: High Control by Riddle]
The data clearly told Draco that it was time to squeeze the last bit of value out of this pawn.
Tom Riddle's appetite was growing larger and larger; Ginny's small body was nearly sucked dry.
Draco's gaze moved away from the system panel and fell back onto Ginny. He watched her look as if she might shatter at any moment, calculating the time in his mind.
Almost there.
He needed to add more fuel to the fire, to make her completely give up resistance and offer her body and soul entirely to that diary.
Draco straightened up, smoothed his wrinkle-free Slytherin robes, and began walking downstairs at a leisurely pace.
His footsteps were light, like a feline hunting—elegant and deadly.
He precisely calculated Ginny's movement speed and his own pace.
At the next corner, he would "happen" to encounter her.
Ginny was walking with her head down, immersed in her own fear and chaos.
Her mind was filled with the words that had emerged from that diary.
Tom was talking to her.
Tom's voice was so gentle, so considerate; he was the only one willing to listen to all her troubles.
But Tom also made her do terrible things.
For example, in the middle of the night, going to wring the necks of those roosters.
For example, using that bright red paint to write terrifying warnings on the walls.
She didn't want to do it; she really didn't.
Every time she woke up and saw herself covered in feathers and paint, she trembled with fear.
But she couldn't control herself.
As long as she picked up that diary, Tom would appear, he would comfort her, and then... then she would lose consciousness.
"Help me..."
Ginny's lips moved soundlessly, tears welling in her eyes but unable to fall.
Just then, she was about to reach the corner.
A slender figure appeared as if out of thin air, turning the corner from the other side.
Ginny was startled and instinctively tried to dodge to the side, but her physical reactions were too slow.
Thud.
A slight collision.
Draco's shoulder precisely bumped into Ginny's thin shoulder.
The force was controlled perfectly—enough to make her lose her balance without actually making her fall.
"Ah!"
Ginny let out a short cry of surprise, and the books and parchment she was holding scattered all over the floor with a clatter.
Among them, a black, worn-edged hardback diary was particularly conspicuous.
It slipped from Ginny's arms and hit the cold stone floor heavily with a dull thud.
It was as if something inside the diary let out a groan of dissatisfaction.
Ginny's face instantly became paler than a corpse's.
She didn't even look at Draco; like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she scrambled down, wanting to snatch the diary back immediately.
"What's the rush?"
A flat voice with a hint of playfulness came from above her head.
Draco bent down, his movements faster than hers.
His long, well-defined fingers easily picked up the black diary.
The moment his fingertips touched the cover, Draco's brow twitched imperceptibly.
[System Prompt: High-concentration soul fluctuations detected!]
[Warning! Detected that 'Tom Riddle's' remnant soul is attempting mental infiltration on you!]
[Infiltration failed. Host's soul strength is too high; automatically blocked.]
Draco's heart remained unruffled.
He could feel a cold consciousness reaching out from this diary, like an invisible venomous snake trying to burrow into his brain.
This power was more than enough to deal with a little girl who had lost her mind like Ginny.
But to him, it was like a negligible cool breeze.
"Your diary?"
Draco held the black book and waved it in front of Ginny.
Ginny, kneeling on the ground, looked up at him with eyes mixed with fear and pleading, reaching out her hand to take the diary back.
"Give it back to me... please, give it back..." her voice was trembling.
"Such a treasure?" Draco chuckled softly.
He didn't return it to her immediately; instead, he reached out his other hand as if to help her up.
"The ground is cold, Miss Weasley. Stand up and speak."
As he handed back the diary, his fingers seemingly accidentally brushed against the back of Ginny's cold hand.
In that very instant.
[Elementary Legilimency, activated!]
Before Draco's eyes, countless chaotic and fragmented images flashed by.
In a dim henhouse, a pair of her own small hands were forcefully wringing the neck of a rooster... In an empty corridor, she held a brush, painting those hideous letters on the wall with bright red paint... In the mirror, she saw her own pale face, but her mouth wore a bizarre smile that didn't belong to her... Fear, despair, struggle, and a hint of controlled, morbid dependence.
These emotions flooded into Draco's perception like a tide.
"So that's how it is."
Draco let go, and Ginny immediately snatched the diaryaway like a beast guarding its food, clutching it tightly to her chest as if it were a part of her body.
She looked at Draco in terror, her body constantly shrinking back.
He knows! Does he know something?!
This thought, like a bolt of lightning, struck Ginny's already fragile nerves.
Draco looked at her like this and slowly leaned down.
His movements were slow, his shadow completely enveloping Ginny's small frame.
He leaned close to her ear, his warm breath fanning against Ginny's cold earlobe, making her whole body stiffen.
A pleasant scent of faint fir and ink drifted into her nostrils.
Then, she heard a whisper like that of a demon.
The voice was very light and soft, yet it carried an irresistible magic that precisely bored into the depths of her soul.
"Your secret is safe, Miss Weasley."
Ginny's body jerked violently.
Draco's lips were almost touching her ear, and his voice dropped even lower, carrying a hint of beguiling laughter.
"As long as you... are obedient."
Boom!
Ginny's pupils dilated to their limit at this moment.
The tense string in her mind finally snapped completely.
Draco's words were like a key, opening the cage named "Fear" in the deepest part of her heart.
All the struggle, all the resistance, all the hope of luck, at this moment, completely collapsed.
He knew everything.
He knew she killed the chickens, knew she wrote on the walls, knew all her secrets.
And he didn't expose her.
He just wanted her to be... obedient.
An unprecedented, bizarre emotion mixed with fear and relief instantly submerged Ginny.
She didn't have to struggle anymore.
She didn't have to be afraid anymore.
Because someone had made the choice for her.
"Ah—!"
Ginny let out an unintelligible scream, grabbed the diary, and without even looking at Draco, scrambled and ran into the dark depths of the corridor.
Her retreating figure no longer held a trace of the vitality belonging to a living person.
She had completely fallen.
Draco straightened up and watched the direction she disappeared, his face devoid of any expression.
He raised his finger; a faint silver magical mark quietly dissipated from his fingertip, having attached itself to the cover of the diary.
Now, no matter where Tom Riddle took Ginny to hide in Hogwarts,
He would be able to find them with precision.
Chapter 108: Harry Potter's Public Humiliation! I've Arranged Ginny's Love Letter!
The time came to February 14th, Valentine's Day.
On this day, the teachers and students of Hogwarts woke up to find the entire Castle transformed.
Gilderoy Lockhart.
This Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, who was forever dedicated to imposing his personal taste on everyone, clearly saw this as a golden opportunity to showcase his "romantic sensibilities."
The ceiling of the Great Hall was no longer its usual overcast self, but had been enchanted into a garish, eye-stabbing pink.
Countless heart-shaped, cheap-perfume-scented colored confetti drifted down from the air, landing in everyone's porridge and Pumpkin Juice.
The walls were draped with pink garlands and golden bows and arrows; the atmosphere of the entire Hall was so sickly sweet it was nauseating.
Draco sat at the Slytherin table, giving his wand a light flick to create an invisible barrier that blocked the falling confetti.
He frowned, watching Lockhart, dressed in pink robes that blended perfectly with the walls, loudly announcing his "surprise" of the day to the students from the staff table.
"A day full of love! To celebrate it, I have prepared some little messengers for everyone!"
Lockhart clapped his hands.
A group of hideous-looking, short, and stout dwarves rushed in from outside the doors of the Great Hall.
Each had a pair of small, glittering golden wings strapped to their backs and held a harp, looking both ridiculous and bizarre. Lockhart called them "Cupid Dwarves."
The task of these "messengers" was to wander around the Castle and loudly recite the love letters students sent to each other.
A disaster had thus begun.
Throughout the morning, the Castle was filled with screams, curses, and the raspy, broken voices of the dwarves singing.
Draco had zero interest in this; he even had Pansy stand guard at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room to forbid any dwarf from taking a single step inside.
He had more important things to do.
He had been waiting for an opportunity.
After Charms Class ended, students flooded out of the classroom.
Draco followed unhurriedly behind the crowd, his gaze locked onto Harry Potter not far away.
Harry was with Ron, trying to navigate through the chaotic corridor while avoiding the rampaging dwarves.
Just then, a particularly strong dwarf with a scar on its face squeezed through the crowd as if it had spotted its target, heading straight for Harry.
"Hey! You! Harry Potter!"
The dwarf shouted in its gravelly voice, grabbing Harry's leg and clinging to it like a piece of inescapable sticky candy.
Harry was startled and stumbled, nearly falling over.
"Let go of me! I didn't write a letter to you!" Harry said, both anxious and angry, as he tried to kick the dwarf off his leg.
But that dwarf possessed startling strength, gripping his knee tightly and refusing to let go.
"I have a musical greeting for you right here!" the dwarf announced triumphantly, grinning to reveal a mouthful of yellow teeth.
This shout immediately drew the attention of everyone in the corridor.
Students stopped in their tracks and gathered around, all wearing expressions of people watching a good show.
"No! Don't read it!" Harry cried out in panic.
However, it was already too late.
Ignoring his struggles, the dwarf cleared its throat, pulled a roll of parchment from the small bag on its back, and recited loudly in its raspy voice.
"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,"
"His hair is as dark as a pitch-black blackboard."
"I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the dragon."
"I wish he were my lover, let him take me into his cauldron to stew!"
When the poem ended, there was a dead silence in the corridor at first.
A second later...
"Hahahahahahaha—!"
Deafening laughter almost blew the roof off the Castle.
Everyone was laughing like crazy.
Ravenclaw students clutched their stomachs and crouched on the floor laughing, while Hufflepuff students laughed until tears came out.
Even some passing Gryffindors couldn't help but turn their heads, their shoulders shaking as they chuckled secretly.
Harry's face turned from white to red at a visible speed, finally swelling into a deep purplish-red.
He wished he could find a crack in the floor to crawl into immediately.
This was one of the darkest moments of his life, even more embarrassing than being given lines by Snape.
"Pickled toad? Hahaha! Potter, your fan has such unique taste!"
A lazy, mocking voice came from outside the crowd.
Draco leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, an undisguised sneer on his face.
Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle, like two mountains of flesh, let out thunderous laughter.
"Did you hear that, Goyle? Even a fresh pickled toad can't resist savior's charm!" Draco said loudly.
The Slytherin students erupted into an even more unrestrained roar of laughter.
Harry's face flushed as he glared angrily at Draco, but he couldn't say a single word.
He just wanted to disappear right now.
Chaos was exactly what Draco wanted.
While everyone's attention was on Harry and the crowd was congested, Draco's toe made a light swipe on the floor.
A silent Leg-Locker Curse shot accurately toward Ron Weasley, who was standing behind Harry.
Ron was pointing at Draco, wanting to shout something back.
Suddenly, he felt his ankle get tripped by something, and his body pitched forward uncontrollably.
"Oh! Watch out!"
Ron let out a startled cry and, like a sack of potatoes, slammed heavily into the back of Harry, who was still struggling with the dwarf.
"Thump!"
The impact was solid.
Harry's center of gravity was already unstable; after being hit like that, he could no longer stay upright.
The strap of the old bag on his back couldn't withstand the force and snapped with a loud 'crack.'
The bag fell to the floor, its contents scattering everywhere.
Potion textbooks, quills, and a freshly filled bottle of ink.
The ink bottle shattered on the stone floor.
Deep red ink splashed everywhere like a crime scene, staining a large area of the floor red.
Worse still, a black, hard-covered diary fell right next to that pool of ink.
Ginny Weasley had squeezed into the crowd at some point.
When she saw that diary fall out, her face turned deathly pale.
That was her diary!
She had another nightmare last night, and when she woke up, she found the diary was gone; she thought Tomhad hidden it, but she didn't expect... she didn't expect it to be in Harry's bag!
Without thinking, she moved to rush over and grab the diary back.
However, a polished black leather shoe was faster than her.
Draco had walked into the center of the chaos at some point.
With a smile of someone watching a play, his toe gave a seemingly casual, light kick on the floor.
The black diary, like a curling stone, slid across the smooth stone floor and stopped precisely by the hand of Harry, who was frantically tidying his things.
The entire movement was seamless and didn't attract anyone's attention.
"Oh, Potter, it seems your bag is as flimsy as your taste," Draco mocked condescendingly.
Harry was both angry and anxious; he didn't notice at all how that diary had slid over.
He hurriedly stuffed the books on the floor back into his bag.
Seeing that ink-stained black diary and thinking it was a new notebook he had bought, he stuffed it haphazardly into his broken bag along with everything else without a second thought.
Ginny watched all this happen, but couldn't say a single word.
She could only watch in horror as Harry took that "bomb" away as his own property.
Next, it would be up to this "senior," Tom Riddle, to see what kind of show he would put on for Harry Potter.
Chapter 109: Harry is being manipulated! Lord Voldemort's diary shows him a grand show!
Late that night, the fire in the Gryffindor Common Roomcrackled, its light reflecting off the scarlet tapestries on the walls.
Most students had already gone to bed, leaving only Harry Potter sitting alone in an armchair before the fireplace.
From his tattered schoolbag, he pulled out the black diaryhe had found in the corridor.
The cover of the diary was very ordinary, save for a string of faded gold-embossed letters in the bottom right corner: "T. M. Riddle."
Harry flipped open the diary; the pages inside were entirely blank.
He recalled how ink had splashed onto it earlier that day, only for the stains to vanish quickly.
This diary was a bit strange.
Driven by curiosity, he picked up a quill from the table, dipped it in ink, and tentatively wrote a line on the first page.
[Hello, my name is Harry Potter.]
The ink stayed on the page for a few seconds, then, as if sucked dry, it slowly seeped into the paper and disappeared.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise.
Before he could react, new ink automatically emerged from the page.
[Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle.]
Harry's heart began to race.
This diary... could talk back!
He felt as if he had found the perfect confidant, a friend who wouldn't laugh at him or look at him with strange eyes.
He began to pour out his troubles to Tom Riddle.
From his inexplicable ability to speak Parseltongue, to the entire school suspecting him of being the heir of Slytherin, to the embarrassment of being publicly humiliated in the corridor earlier that day.
[The heir of Slytherin? That is interesting,] Riddle's handwriting emerged elegantly. [In fact, fifty years ago, I also caught the culprit who opened the Chamber of Secrets.]
Harry's spirits lifted.
[Really? Who was it?]
[I can show you.]
Before Harry could understand what that meant, the diary suddenly began to glow, and the pages started flipping rapidly on their own, as if caught in a wind.
A powerful suction pulled from the diary; Harry felt his body being wrenched, and the scene before him began to twist and spin.
A second later, he found he was no longer in the Gryffindor Common Room.
He was standing inside Hogwarts Castle fifty years ago.
Everything around him had turned black and white, like an old movie.
Meanwhile, in the boys' dormitory deep within the Slytherin Dungeon.
Draco lay comfortably on his four-poster bed with green velvet curtains, but he wasn't sleeping.
Hovering before his eyes was a pale blue system light screen that only he could see.
On the screen, the entire conversation between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle was being displayed clearly, like a live broadcast.
[System Panel]
[Monitoring Target: Harry Potter]
[Current Status: Engaging in deep communication with the soul fragment of 'Tom Riddle'...]
[Harry Potter's Trust Level in 'Tom Riddle': 78% (continuing to soar...)]
Draco watched the text appearing on the screen, a disdainful smile playing on his lips.
"What a gullible fool," he whispered to himself.
Riddle's methods weren't particularly clever; he was simply exploiting Harry's current vulnerability—his isolation and his longing to be understood.
First empathy, then the bait, leading him step by step into a trap that had long been woven.
And Harry, the so-called savior, was like a fly diving into honey, plunging headlong without any defense.
Draco watched with interest as Riddle "directed" the grand show for Harry.
In the false memory, a young and handsome Tom Riddleplayed the role of a worried, righteous prefect.
He reported to the Principal at the time, Armando Dippet, claiming he had caught the culprit who opened the Chamber of Secrets.
Then, the memory's focus shifted to the Dungeons.
A tall, clumsy-looking boy was secretly raising a giant, hairy spider.
It was a young Rubeus Hagrid.
Riddle righteously accused Hagrid's pet—the Acromantula named Aragog—of being the monster that killed the student.
Hagrid clumsily defended his friend, but no one believed him.
Ultimately, Hagrid was expelled, while Riddle received a Special Award for Merit for "catching the culprit."
The memory ended there.
Harry was pushed out by a force, falling back into his armchair, gasping for breath.
His face was filled with shock and sudden realization.
Hagrid!
So the culprit who opened the Chamber of Secrets was Hagrid!
And Riddle—the Riddle from fifty years ago—was a hero!
He caught the culprit and protected the school!
Harry looked at the diary, his eyes full of trust and admiration.
He was completely unaware that what he had seen was only what Riddle wanted him to see.
Draco closed the System Panel and yawned.
"The script is good, and the actor is stupid enough."
He rolled over, preparing to sleep.
Harry was completely hooked; next, this pawn, blinded by anger and misunderstanding, would walk toward his destination on his own.
The Potion Class classroom the next day was as cold and damp as ever.
Professor Snape, in his characteristic tone that could freeze the air, was explaining the preparation method for the Shrinking Solution.
Students nervously handled various ingredients; the only sounds in the classroom were the bubbling of liquid in cauldrons and the rhythmic thudding of knives chopping herbs.
Harry and Ron were paired up, both looking preoccupied.
Harry had been struggling with whether to tell Ron the "truth" he had seen the previous night.
Just then, Draco's drawling voice came from the other side of the classroom, not loud, yet clearly reaching everyone's ears.
"Professor Snape, I have a question."
Snape stopped his pacing and looked at Draco, a rare hint of inquiry in his eyes.
"Speak."
"I believe that in the world of magic, one of the most dangerous things is 'misplaced trust'." Draco's gaze drifted seemingly aimlessly toward Harry.
"Sometimes, we think what we see is the truth, and we believe we are trusting a good person, but in reality, it might just be a deception meticulously prepared for you."
"Placing trust in someone who shouldn't be trusted, or... a 'thing' that shouldn't be trusted, will only lead to catastrophic consequences."
Draco's words were pointed.
The Slytherin students immediately let out a few snickers.
Ron didn't understand, but seeing Draco looking at Harry, he immediately hissed angrily, "He's looking for trouble again!"
Harry, however, was jolted.
Misplaced trust?
He immediately thought of Hagrid.
Malfoy must be mocking Hagrid! He must know something!
A surge of humiliated rage instantly rushed to Harry's head.
He stood up abruptly from his seat, the chair legs scraping against the stone floor with a piercing screech.
"You're lying!" Harry pointed at Draco and retorted loudly. "You don't know anything! Hagrid isn't that kind of person!"
The entire classroom went silent instantly.
Everyone looked at the suddenly exploding Harry in surprise.
Snape's face instantly darkened enough to drip water.
"Mr. Potter," his voice was as cold as a snake's hiss, "shouting in my class, making baseless accusations against a fellow student..."
His gaze swept over Harry's cauldron, which was still emitting green smoke.
"And, brewing a pot of garbage I've never seen before, comparable to slug slime."
"Ten points from Gryffindor!"
"Now, sit down! If you make another sound, I'll put you in detention for a month!"
Harry, his face flushed red, sat back down in humiliation under the gaze of the entire class.
He wanted to retort, to defend Hagrid, but under Snape's murderous gaze, he couldn't say a single word.
Draco looked at Harry, who was trembling with rage but powerless, and could only sneer in his heart.
Such foolish, pathetic courage.
Being used as a tool by Riddle, yet still charging ahead for a so-called "friend."
But that's fine.
The more impulsive and reckless this pawn is, the easier he is to manipulate.
Chapter 110: A suspension order, Dumbledore Get Out of Hogwarts!
The next day, even more terrible news arrived.
A Hufflepuff student, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was discovered.
He lay in the corridor, his body stiff, eyes wide open, his face still frozen in an expression of terror.
He had been petrified.
And beside him floated a translucent, equally motionless figure.
It was the Gryffindor ghost—"Nearly Headless Nick."
Even ghosts were not immune!
This discovery pushed the fear within the Castle to its peak.
Students no longer dared to move alone, always huddling together in groups, even going to the bathroom in pairs.
The corridors were terrifyingly quiet; the laughter and chatter of the past could no longer be heard.
Amulets, protective charms, and various strange items for warding off evil saw their prices skyrocket on the student black market.
Some even began selling garlic at high prices, claiming it could drive away monsters.
The entire school was shrouded in an atmosphere of oppression and despair.
The Ministry of Magic could finally no longer stand idly by.
At dusk, Harry and Ron, draped in the invisibility cloak, sneaked to Hagrid's hut, wanting to get some answers from him.
They had just knocked on the door, and before they could speak, the hut's door was roughly pushed open from the outside.
The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, burst in, accompanied by two stern-looking Aurors.
Fudge was wearing his signature pinstriped cloak, nervously twirling a green bowler hat in his hands, his face looking very grim.
"Hagrid," Fudge said, getting straight to the point, his voice carrying a hint of an unquestionable command, "I'm afraid you'll have to come with me."
"What?" Hagrid's massive frame rose from his chair, his head nearly hitting the ceiling. "Fudge, I haven't done anything!"
Harry and Ron hid in the corner, not daring to breathe.
Just as Fudge was trying to persuade Hagrid, the hut's door was pushed open once again.
A tall, thin figure walked in against the light.
The newcomer wore a well-tailored set of black velvet robes and held an ebony cane topped with a snake's head.
His platinum-blonde hair was meticulously groomed, and his face bore an air of condescending arrogance.
Lucius Malfoy.
Draco's father.
His arrival caused the air in the small hut to turn several degrees colder instantly.
"Good evening, Fudge," Lucius's voice was smooth and cold; he didn't even spare Hagrid a glance.
"Lucius!" Fudge appeared somewhat surprised and a bit nervous at the sight of him.
"I am here on behalf of the Hogwarts Board of Governors." Lucius slowly pulled a roll of parchment tied with a red ribbon from an inner pocket of his robes.
"We held a meeting and jointly signed this document."
He unfurled the parchment, where a long list of signatures looked particularly jarring under the dim oil lamp.
"The Board of Governors unanimously agrees that Headmaster Dumbledore has lost our trust in handling the recent attacks."
"Attack after attack, yet he remains helpless."
Lucius's voice carried the tone of a victor.
"Therefore, we have voted to suspend Albus Dumbledorefrom his duties as Headmaster."
"What?!"
Hidden under the invisibility cloak, Harry and Ron gasped simultaneously.
Dismiss Dumbledore? How could this be!
Just then, a calm voice came from the doorway.
"Lucius, it seems you've come after all."
Dumbledore was standing at the door, though no one knew when he had arrived. He wore deep purple robes, and his silvery-white beard was knotted at his chest.
Behind his half-moon spectacles, those blue eyes looked at Lucius calmly, without a single ripple of emotion.
"Yes, Dumbledore." Lucius met his gaze without flinching.
"The Board of Governors believes it is time for someone new to turn the tide. I have brought the suspension order."
He handed over the roll of parchment.
"If you weren't here, I would have left it in your office. As soon as Minister Fudge arrived, I knew you would certainly appear."
Fudge rubbed his hands together uncomfortably to the side, clearly not wanting to get involved in the clash between these two powerful figures.
"Very well, Lucius." Dumbledore surprisingly did not argue; he calmly accepted the decision.
"Since the Board of Governors has made its choice, I shall leave."
He turned to Hagrid, his tone gentle yet firm.
"Hagrid, go with them. But you must remember, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
Then, his gaze seemed to pierce through the invisibility cloak, lingering for a brief moment on the corner where Harry and Ron were hiding.
"And I must also say that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me."
With that, Dumbledore turned and, accompanied by a clear cry from Fawkes the Phoenix, strode out of the hut.
Hagrid, the half-giant, with tears in his eyes, was finally led away by the Aurors.
He was accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago; now, as a suspect, he would be imprisoned in Azkaban.
In the hut, only Lucius Malfoy and an embarrassed Fudgeremained.
"Well, my business here is done." Lucius tapped the ground with his cane and turned to leave.
At the same time, atop the highest Astronomy Tower in Hogwarts.
Draco stood in the icy wind, his black robes snapping in the breeze.
He looked down over the entire campus and clearly saw Dumbledore's tall figure walking out of the Castle gates and disappearing into the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
On his system interface, a new notification was flashing with a golden light.
[Ding!]
[Achievement Unlocked: Collapse of Hogwarts Order!]
[Description: Through plotting and family influence, successfully removed the highest authority of Hogwarts(Albus Dumbledore), plunging the Castle into a power vacuum.]
[Reward: The Host's authority level within Hogwartshas increased, and control over certain magical restrictions has been strengthened.]
A satisfied smile finally appeared on Draco's face.
Dumbledore.
This cunning old fox, the biggest variable in this chess game, had finally been temporarily removed from the board by him.
Without Dumbledore's suppression and with Hagridimprisoned in Azkaban.
Harry Potter had lost his two strongest pillars of support.
The entire Hogwarts was now like a sheepfold that had lost its shepherd.
And he, Draco Malfoy, was the wolf prepared to enter for the feast.
Chapter 111: Gryffindor's Doom! Their Points Deducted Until They Cry!
Although Professor McGonagall had taken over as Acting Principal in a moment of crisis, her stern face was etched with exhaustion and a sense of powerlessness.
She spent every day rushing between floors, trying to maintain order, but with very little effect.
Because a new "order" was quietly being established.
The students of Slytherin House became more active than ever before.
They walked through the corridors with their chins held high, faces wearing undisguised smugness and arrogance.
Draco Malfoy, as the Uncrowned King of Slytherin, took this overbearing arrogance to the extreme.
The day after Dumbledore left, he delivered his "Inaugural Speech" publicly at the breakfast table in the Great Hall.
"It seems Hogwarts is finally starting to clear out those ill-timed, archaic forces."
His voice carried a hint of a lazy drawl, yet his gaze swept sharply across the Gryffindor long table.
"A truly pure, truly orderly era is fast approaching."
"I personally suggest that those with blood not so... clean, had better be careful lately and keep their heads down."
"After all, nobody knows who the monster in the Chamber of Secrets will target next."
These words were filled with blatant threats and insinuations.
Hermione was not present because she had been petrified.
Harry and Ron glared at him in fury, but there was nothing they could do.
Without Dumbledore's protection, they were like tigers with their teeth pulled out.
And this was only the beginning.
Although Draco was not yet an official prefect, he exercised privileges far beyond those of an ordinary prefect, relying on his prestige in Slytherin and DeanSnape's favoritism.
He began taking Crabbe and Goyle with him, wandering around the Castle like a lion king patrolling his territory.
His primary targets were the Gryffindor students.
The reasons for point deductions were bizarre and inconceivable.
"Weasley, the color of your robes is too garish and ruins the overall aesthetic of the Castle. Five points from Gryffindor."
"Longbottom, you walk like a startled rabbit, which damages the prestige of Hogwarts students. Five points from Gryffindor."
"Potter, your breathing is too loud and is disturbing my thoughts. Ten points from Gryffindor!"
In the Point-counting hourglasses outside the GryffindorCommon Room, the rubies inside were decreasing at an alarming rate.
The Gryffindor students were furious but didn't dare speak up; at the slightest resistance, Draco would deduct even more points for even more ridiculous reasons.
And Professor McGonagall was powerless to stop it.
All of Draco's actions were within the framework allowed by school rules; she could find no reason to punish a "diligent"... Prospective Prefect.
On the other side, Harry and Ron were in dire straits.
They firmly believed Hagrid was innocent. Dumbledore's hint before leaving and Hagrid's parting words to "Follow the spiders" had become their only lifelines.
Late one night, they made a bold decision.
Donning the invisibility cloak and taking Ron's mute pet dog Fang, they followed the spiders crawling out of the Castle and into the Forbidden Forest.
They needed to find Aragog and ask about the truth from fifty years ago.
In the Slytherin Dungeons, Draco was playing a game of wizards chess with Blaise Zabini.
Beside his chessboard, a miniature map of Hogwartsfloated in the air.
On the map, two red light dots close together were flashing as they left the Castle grounds and slowly moved deep into the Forbidden Forest.
The [System Bio-Radar] clearly displayed Harry and Ron's real-time positions.
Seeing the smile at the corner of Draco's mouth, Blaise asked curiously, "Draco, what are you so happy about?"
"Nothing," Draco moved his Queen, capturing one of Blaise's Bishops. "Just two stupid little mice who have run into a spider's nest on their own."
On the system map, the dots representing Harry and Ronhad already penetrated deep into the center of the Forbidden Forest, into an area marked as "High Density Dangerous Creatures."
That was the territory of the Acromantula, Aragog.
Draco did not go to stop them.
On the contrary, he was looking forward to what would happen next.
He needed Harry to experience fear personally, to face dangers he couldn't possibly contend with.
He needed to let this "savior" understand clearly that without Dumbledore, he was nothing.
Only when a person truly recognizes their own weakness and powerlessness will they rely more on "outside forces."
For example, a talking diary.
Draco could even imagine how, after Harry narrowly escaped death, he would desperately confide his fears and discoveries to his only friend—Tom Riddle.
And Riddle would take this opportunity to completely brainwash him.
Everything was proceeding perfectly according to the script he had written.
"Checkmate."
Draco's Queen knocked Blaise's King to the ground.
He stood up and stretched.
"No more playing, I'm a bit sleepy."
That night, Draco slept very well.
Until the early hours of the morning, a massive engine roar and the sound of breaking trees woke some people in the Castle.
A battered blue Ford Anglia flying car, billowing black smoke, charged frantically out of the edge of the Forbidden Forest and landed crookedly on the lawn.
The car doors opened, and Harry and Ron came tumbling and crawling out of the car.
The faces of both were as pale as paper, their hair and robes were covered in sticky spider webs and broken leaves, and their entire bodies were shaking uncontrollably.
Ron was even dry-heaving incessantly.
They had narrowly escaped with their lives from the Acromantula's nest.
The next morning in the Great Hall.
Harry and Ron sat at the Gryffindor long table with huge dark circles under their eyes, looking listless and barely touching their breakfast.
Draco elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then, in his characteristic drawl, spoke loudly to Pansy beside him:
"Pansy, you know what? I had an interesting dream last night."
"I dreamed there were two headless flies that insisted on flying into a spider web. As a result, they were chased and bitten by thousands of spiders, almost getting eaten as dinner."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was just enough for the highly stressed Harry and Ron to hear clearly.
Harry and Ron's bodies stiffened simultaneously.
"Don't you think it's ridiculous? Having no skill at all, yet always thinking they're heroes who can save the world."
Draco picked up a green apple and tossed it in his hand.
"In my opinion, idiots like this who can't distinguish reality will get themselves killed sooner or later."
His gaze swept contemptuously over Harry and Ron.
That look was like he was watching two insects struggling in their death throes on the ground.
Several Slytherin students sitting nearby let out knowing chuckles.
Harry clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white, but he couldn't say a word.
Because what Draco said was the truth.
Last night's experience had made him feel the coldness of death for the first time.
He really had almost died.
Sitting not far away, Hermione heard the underlying meaning in Draco's words.
She looked at Harry with worry, her eyes full of anxiety.
Draco noticed her gaze.
He turned his head and cast a warning look in Hermione's direction.
Hermione's heart suddenly constricted, as if pricked by a needle.
She immediately lowered her head, not daring to look again, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her robes.
She felt like a pet that had made a mistake in front of its master, lacking even the courage to look up.
Chapter 112: Hermione Discovers the Basilisk's Truth! A Library Encounter!
Over the next few days, Hermione made a decision.
She would rely on herself to uncover the truth about that monster.
The Library became her second dormitory.
She buried herself among the dust-covered ancient tomes, leafing through every record concerning Hogwarts's Dark Arts and magical creatures.
Finally, on a rainy afternoon, in the most secluded corner of the Library, she discovered a handwritten piece of parchment tucked between the pages of a forbidden book.
It described a creature in detail—the Basilisk.
"The King of Serpents, born from a toad hatching a chicken's egg..."
"Direct eye contact causes immediate death..."
"Seeing it through a mirror or reflection results in petrification..."
"It fears the crow of a rooster..."
"It can move through the Castle's plumbing system..."
Hermione's eyes widened further and further, her breath catching.
The plumbing! Petrification! The voice Harry heard... The Basilisk is a snake, and Harry is a Parselmouth!
All the clues fit together perfectly!
The monster is the Basilisk!
A shiver ran up her spine. She had found it. She had truly found the answer!
She had to tell Harry immediately!
She carefully tore out that piece of parchment, clutching it tightly in her hand, and fished a small pocket mirror from her robe.
It was a safety measure she had just thought of—using the mirror to check around corners.
With her preparations complete, Hermione dashed out of the Library.
Only one thought filled her mind: find Harry!
She even subconsciously wondered what expression Draco would have when he learned she had single-handedly solved the Chamber's secret?
He would surely look at her with new respect.
However, just as she turned into a quiet corridor, a figure stepped out from the shadow of a stone pillar, blocking her path.
It was Draco Malfoy.
He was dressed in his immaculate Slytherin robes, looking at her with an air of leisure.
"In such a hurry, Granger," his voice was soft, yet it rooted Hermione's feet to the spot, "did you discover some incredible secret?"
Hermione's heart sank heavily.
Instinctively, she hid the hand clutching the paper and mirror behind her back, forcing a stiff smile.
"N-nothing, Malfoy. I just... need to use the lavatory."
Draco didn't speak, just watched her quietly with those grey-blue eyes.
That gaze seemed to penetrate everything, laying her innermost secrets bare.
A fine, cold sweat broke out on Hermione's forehead.
After what felt like an eternity, Draco finally let out a soft sigh, his gaze falling on her hidden hand.
"Hermione," he said her name for the first time with such a calm tone, "you are too clever."
Hermione's body trembled slightly.
"Sometimes, being too clever is a dangerous thing."
An incredibly complex expression appeared on Draco's face—admiration, regret, and... pity.
This was tacit permission, but also a cruel test.
A test to see how she would choose between "friend" and "master."
If she stopped now, returned to his side, she would be safe.
If she chose to continue... Draco didn't finish the sentence, but Hermione understood the meaning in his eyes.
A chill shot from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.
She knew this was the choice that would decide her fate.
Draco slowly stepped aside, clearing the path ahead.
He leaned down, bringing his mouth close to Hermione's ear, speaking in a whisper only the two of them could hear:
"Do what you want to do."
Hermione's breath caught.
"But, Hermione..."
"Every choice has its price."
"You bear the consequences."
Having said that, he straightened up, took a step back, and made a gesture of "please."
Ahead lay the path to Gryffindor, to her friends.
Behind her was her master, her faith, and also the source of her fear.
Hermione's lips were bitten white, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Friendship and justice, fear and obsession, tore at her.
In the end, the instinct to protect her friends and that impulsive desire to prove herself overcame her fear.
She looked deeply at Draco, her eyes a mixture of apology, resolve, and a hint of finality.
Then, gritting her teeth, she ran past him without a word.
Draco stood in place, not looking back, watching her small figure disappear down the corridor.
His fingers inside his robe sleeve lightly stroked the cold wand.
He was waiting.
Waiting for his disobedient, yet exceptionally clever little canary to fly into the net prepared for her.
Hermione ran fast.
At the next corner, she remembered her preparation. Habitually, she stopped, raised the small mirror, carefully peered around the corner, and checked the path ahead.
The mirror's surface reflected an empty, dimly lit corridor.
Safe.
Hermione sighed in relief and was about to lower the mirror.
At that very moment, her movements froze.
Her pupils contracted to pinpricks in the mirror.
Through that small mirror, she saw that on the wall at the end of the corridor, a huge opening leading to the underground pipes had opened at some unknown time.
A pair of yellow eyes gleaming with the sheen of death were peering out from the hole.
Those eyes, through the mirror, met her terrified gaze.
A giant snake covered in cold, green scales was slowly extending its head.
The Basilisk!
Hermione's mind went blank; she even forgot to breathe.
The Basilisk spotted her, opened its massive maw, revealing two dagger-like fangs, and prepared to lunge.
Death was imminent.
A hair's breadth from disaster.
An invisible, powerful surge of magic erupted from the shadows behind Hermione.
Draco raised his hand, his fingers twitching slightly.
The mirror in Hermione's hand was forcibly turned a tiny angle by an unseen force.
Almost simultaneously, another, more resilient wave of magic shielded Hermione's entire body.
Two highly difficult nonverbal spells, completed in an instant.
The Basilisk's death gaze was refracted by the angled mirror onto the corridor ceiling.
"Sizzle—!"
A soft sound. The hard stone ceiling, swept by the gaze, was left with a charred, deep groove, its edges still smoking.
The fatal direct eye contact had been avoided.
But the petrifying magic transmitted through the mirror still pierced through the hasty protection Draco had cast.
"Ah..."
Hermione only managed a short, choked gasp.
Her body rapidly stiffened, the terror on her face frozen forever.
The breath of life was drawn from her.
The mirror and that piece of parchment slipped from her rigid fingers, falling to the floor with two soft thuds.
Her entire body toppled stiffly backwards, landing heavily.
At that moment.
"Sss—"
A sound came from the corridor shadows.
[Go back.]
The Basilisk's massive body stiffened violently.
This was an absolute suppression from the source of its bloodline, a lowly soldier hearing the military order of its supreme commander—irresistible.
It didn't even dare to look back at the source of the voice. Its huge head immediately retracted, its enormous body swiftly retreating into the pipe.
The wall opening closed, and the corridor returned to silence.
Draco dispelled the Disillusionment Charm and stepped out from the shadows.
He walked over and knelt beside Hermione, his fingers checking for her breath.
No breath.
He then took her wrist. The skin was cold and stiff, but deep within the flesh, he felt an extremely faint pulse.
Just petrified, not dead.
The stone weighing on Draco's heart settled.
He stood up, looking down at the "statue" on the ground.
This was punishment for her disobedience. Acting on her own meant paying a price.
This was also a form of protection for her. The upcoming final battle, whether against Riddle or the enraged Basilisk, was beyond her ability to handle.
Having her "exit" in this manner was the safest.
Draco's gaze fell on Hermione's face, frozen in terror. He reached out, his fingers brushing over her petrified cheek.
"I told you, you bear the consequences."
His voice was very soft.
"But perhaps this is for the best. You'll finally stay put somewhere I can see you."
Chapter 113: The Entire School's Girls Are Moved By Me! Protecting My rumored girlfriend!
The laughter of a few Ravenclaw students drifted from afar as they were about to turn the corner.
Draco cleared the magical traces at the scene and retreated into the shadows of another corridor dozens of meters away.
"Someone was attacked!"
"It's Hermione Granger! And the Ravenclaw prefectPenelope Clearwater!"
Panic engulfed the entire Castle once again within minutes.
Even Granger has fallen, who else is safe?
Harry and Ron's minds went blank when they heard the news.
They rushed out of the Common Room like madmen, sprinting toward the Hospital Wing.
But at the exact moment they rushed out, a figure rushed toward the same destination from the direction of the Slytherin Dungeon, moving even faster than them.
It was Draco Malfoy.
His face showed unprecedented anxiety and shock, mixed with an uncontrollable rage.
He was the first to charge to the entrance of the Hospital Wing.
"Bang!"
Draco didn't use his hands; he slammed the heavy wooden door open with his shoulder.
Madam Pomfrey, who was examining the two petrified girls, was startled by the loud noise and turned around angrily.
"Who is so ill-mannered..."
Her words caught in her throat.
Draco Malfoy, the Prince of Slytherin, had messy hair, his chest heaving violently, and his grayish-blue eyes were bloodshot.
His gaze swept past Madam Pomfrey, locking firmly onto one of the hospital beds.
Hermione Granger.
She lay stiffly on the white sheets in her Gryffindoruniform, her eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling like a soulless doll.
Draco's face instantly darkened.
A violent aura exploded from him.
"Hermione!"
He squeezed out a beast-like growl from his throat and hurried to the bedside.
He reached out to touch Hermione's face, but his hand stopped mid-air, trembling from uncontrollable rage.
"Who..."
He turned around, his gaze sweeping the room before finally settling on the cold stone wall.
"Who did this!"
Under Madam Pomfrey's horrified gaze, and watched by Harry and Ron who froze upon entering, Draco spun around fiercely.
He channeled the power of the Dragon Blood War Bodyinto his fist and smashed it with all his might against the adjacent stone wall!
"Boom—!"
A dull, heavy sound echoed.
Crushed stone splattered.
The sturdy Castle wall received a shallow dent from his punch, with web-like cracks spreading outward.
The skin on his knuckles split open, and blood dripped steadily onto the floor from the back of his hand.
"Ah—!" Madam Pomfrey cried out.
Harry and Ron were stunned into a blank state by the sight.
Draco... he... was enraged over Hermione's attack?
He even risked injuring his own hand?
Draco seemed not to feel the pain, leaning on the wall with his bleeding fist, his body shaking with anger.
He looked up and roared toward the empty corridor.
"heir!"
"Listen to me!"
"I don't care who you are! What your goal is!"
"You dare touch my person!"
His voice was filled with murderous intent and madness.
"I swear! You will pay the price for this! I, Draco Malfoy, keep my word!"
The entire Hospital Wing fell deathly silent.
Everyone was stunned into silence by his declaration.
This performance was flawless.
That self-destructive anger, that domineering phrase 'my person,' that vow of unending vengeance... it was too real.
So real that a flicker of doubt and... guilt arose in Harry's heart.
He looked at the back of the figure smashing the wall with his fist, at the blood dripping from his hand, and an idea uncontrollably surfaced.
The heir... really wasn't him?
Who would show such genuine rage over an attack they orchestrated?
Who would go so far as to make themselves look wretched, even breaking their own hand, just to act a part?
Especially when the victim was his 'rumored girlfriend.'
At this moment, Draco completely cleared his name with top-tier acting.
Moreover, he forged an image in everyone's mind of someone great, deeply affectionate, and willing to risk everything to protect the one he loved.
Madam Pomfrey finally reacted and rushed over to grab Draco's hand.
"Oh, Merlin! Mr. Malfoy, your hand! Let me treat it quickly!"
Draco shook her off, covering his face with his other hand, his shoulders heaving as if suppressing his emotions.
"Never mind me..." his voice was hoarse, "Check on her first... please, see if she can still be saved..."
The pain and helplessness made the eyes of several older girls who rushed over turn red.
The way they looked at Draco was a mixture of sympathy, admiration, and a hint of infatuation.
A man is most captivating when he displays strength, anger, and vulnerability for the woman he loves.
Harry and Ron stood at the doorway, looking at each other, unable to utter a word.
Their minds were a complete mess.
If Malfoy wasn't the culprit, then who was it?
All their previous speculations were shattered by the 'real' scene before them.
Draco kept his head down, covering his face with his hand; no one could see his expression at that moment.
Beneath his mask, his thoughts were cold and clear.
Hermione is out.
Obstacles cleared.
Suspicion washed away.
Next, he only needed to wait for the final domino to fall.
Wait for Ginny Weasley to be dragged into the Chamber of Secrets.
Then, he could act as the sole 'insider' to claim the final, and most substantial, spoils.
The air at Hogwarts felt so heavy it could be wrung out before the final exams.
The petrification of Hermione and Penelope was a huge weight pressing on everyone's heart.
Professor McGonagall increased patrols and the curfew, leading everyone to believe the attacks would pause.
However, the worst piece of news echoed through the Castle via the magical broadcast.
"All students, return immediately to your House Common Rooms!"
It was Professor McGonagall's voice.
"All Professors, please gather immediately on the second-floor corridor!"
Something had happened.
Something major had happened again!
In the Gryffindor Common Room, students were huddled together, fear etched on every face.
After a long time, Professor McGonagall returned with heavy steps.
Her usually straight back was slightly stooped, her face pale, and her lips were trembling.
She surveyed the young and panicked faces and announced with difficulty, her voice hoarse almost to the point of cracking:
"Another student... has been attacked by the monster."
The Common Room fell into a dead silence.
"This time... it wasn't petrification."
Professor McGonagall's lips moved, and she managed to force out the most terrifying words with all her strength:
"She was... taken away."
"She was taken into the Chamber of Secrets."
A collective gasp rose from the crowd.
"Who was it?" a student asked tremulously.
Professor McGonagall's gaze swept over the crowd, landing precisely on the Weasley boys.
Ron's heart was seized by an invisible hand and then sank heavily.
He had an extremely ominous premonition.
"Ginny..."
"Ginny Weasley is missing."
The name drilled into Ron's ears, and his brain stopped functioning.
Ginny... his little sister... the little sister who always followed him with adoring eyes... "No..."
Ron mumbled distractedly, violently shoving aside those next to him, and rushed out of the Common Room like a madman.
Harry followed closely behind.
Almost simultaneously, the caretaker Filch discovered the new blood message on the wall on the third-floor corridor.
The writing was larger than any previous instance, and the bright red color was so glaring under the torchlight it looked as if the blood had just flowed.
"Her bones will remain in the Chamber of Secretsforever."
The news quickly spread throughout the entire Castle.
Harry and Ron rushed to that corridor and saw the shocking line of bloody writing.
By the corner of the wall lay one of Ginny's shoes, dropped in haste.
Ron could no longer hold himself up.
His legs went weak, and he slid down against the wall, emitting a suppressed, beast-like whimper from his throat.
Harry also stood frozen in place.
It was him.
He was the one who picked up that diary from the corridor.
It was him who, after communicating with Tom Riddle, carelessly tossed the dangerous diary back in the dormitory, giving Ginny the chance to take it again.
He caused Ginny's fate!
Overwhelming guilt and self-reproach choked his throat.
"We have to do something!" Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's shoulder, his voice trembling.
"Do what?" Ron looked up desperately, his face smeared with tears and snot, "What can we do? Dumbledore isn't here! Hagrid isn't here either!"
"There's one more person!" A glimmer of hope sparked in Harry's eyes, "Lockhart! Gilderoy Lockhart!"
"He brags all day about how many monsters he's defeated! He must have a way!"
The two desperate boys clung to this last straw and rushed like madmen toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
Chapter 114: The Final Blood-Written Words! A One-Way Ticket to the Chamber of Secrets!
In the staff room, the Professors were in chaos.
"We must act immediately!" Professor Flitwick, who was short in stature, squealed.
Snape sat in the shadows, his face cold and silent.
"But we don't even know where the entrance is!" Professor Sprout said anxiously.
"There is one person who knows."
Professor McGonagall's gaze was fixed on the corner, on the person wearing a splendid lilac robe whose face was paler than anyone else's.
Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Gilderoy," Professor McGonagall's tone brooked no refusal, "now is the time for you to show your true prowess."
"Haven't you always said you know where the entrance to the Chamber is?"
The color drained completely from Lockhart's face, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
"I... I was just... making some theoretical conjectures..."
"Excellent!" Professor Flitwick immediately clapped his hands. "Then go and verify your conjectures right now! We'll provide you with all necessary support here!"
Lockhart looked at his colleagues' expressions that clearly said, 'Go on, we'll support you... in spirit,' and knew he couldn't keep up the act.
He made an excuse, saying he needed to return to his office to prepare tools, and then fled in panic.
Go to the Chamber of Secrets? Are you kidding!
He was going to pack his bags immediately and slip away in the chaos! He didn't want to stay in this damned place for a second longer!
He dashed into his office at top speed, just about to lock the door.
"BANG!"
The door was forced open with brute strength.
Harry and Ron stood at the doorway, holding their wands, their expressions blank.
"Professor Lockhart." Harry's voice was frighteningly flat. "We're here to 'escort' you to save Ginny Weasley."
A farce was about to begin.
Meanwhile, in the Slytherin Common Room.
Draco Malfoy slowly rose, straightening his impeccably unwrinkled black robe.
He gave an order to Pansy Parkinson, who stood nearby.
"I'm going for a walk."
"Until I return, no one is to leave the Common Room for even a step."
"You know the consequences for disobeying."
Pansy knelt on one knee, her eyes blazing with fervor. "As you command, my master."
Draco said no more and turned to walk out of the Dungeons.
His fingertips brushed over the Alchemical Daggerhidden in his sleeve, covered in Ancient Runic Inscriptions.
The blade felt cool to the touch.
The actors were in place.
The stage was set on the second floor, in the girls' bathroom haunted by Moaning Myrtle.
And he, Draco Malfoy, would be the sole witness to this farce.
And... the final reaper of the spoils.
He cast a high-level Disillusionment Charm, his form blending into the surroundings as he silently made his way towards the second floor.
[Warning! Target 'Tom Riddle' is performing the final life force drain!]
[Materialization countdown: 29 minutes, 47 seconds.]
The timing was perfect... Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was gloomy and damp.
Harry opened the Chamber entrance with Parseltongue, and the farce began right on schedule.
Lockhart, holding Ron's broken wand, cast a Memory Charm on himself.
The spell rebounded, instantly turning him into an idiot and conveniently collapsing the tunnel in the process.
Ron and Lockhart were trapped on the other side.
Everything was going according to Draco's script.
He passed through the collapsed rubble. The high-level Disillusionment Charm and his Suppressed Aura made him a third ghost in this place.
He followed behind Harry Potter, neither too close nor too far.
That small, thin figure walked alone into the depths of the darkness. Draco felt no ripple of emotion in his heart, only the cold detachment of a spectator.
Poor savior.
You think you're the hero saving the princess?
You're just a key, a key both Dumbledore and Voldemort have their eyes on.
Now, the key has been inserted into the lock. It's time for the hunter to prepare the net... The magnificent underground chamber.
Harry saw Ginny lying on the ground and also saw the youth who had emerged from the diary — Tom Riddle.
When the words "I AM Lord Voldemort" burned in the air, Harry finally understood he was facing the monster who killed his parents.
Riddle hissed in Parseltongue.
The giant mouth of Slytherin's statue opened, and a colossal creature thicker than an oak tree slithered out.
The Basilisk.
The Phoenix Fawkes appeared in time, pecking out the Basilisk's eyes. The Sorting Hat delivered the Sword of Gryffindor.
The twelve-year-old Harry erupted with astonishing courage, turning to charge at the enraged giant beast.
Draco hid in the shadow of a stone pillar, watching coldly.
He had to admit, Harry Potter's protagonist aura was indeed formidable. Dumbledore's backup plans always arrived so conveniently.
But it didn't matter.
A hero's script is always written in blood.
Harry used his small frame to maneuver between the stone pillars, luring the Basilisk to crash into emptiness again and again.
Finally, he scrambled up the giant statue of Slytherin, using both hands and feet.
The giant beast was thoroughly enraged. It reared its head, opened its bloody maw, and lunged forward with a foul-smelling gust of wind!
Now!
Harry mustered all his strength and drove the Sword of Gryffindor downwards, plunging it into the Basilisk's gaping upper jaw.
The long sword sank to the hilt.
"HISSSSSSS—!"
The Basilisk let out its final shriek. Its massive body fell from the statue, crashing into the water channel and sending up a huge wave.
Harry, exhausted, also slid down the statue and fell to the ground.
He had won.
He had killed the Basilisk.
A sharp pain in his right arm brought him back to his senses. A broken Basilisk fang, the size of a dagger, was deeply embedded in his flesh.
Black venom crept up his blood vessels.
His vision began to darken, his body grew cold, and his strength was draining away.
"You won, Harry."
Riddle's voice sounded beside him, and he even clapped his hands.
"You killed the Basilisk, but you're going to die too. How amusing."
He walked up to Harry, looking down at him. The contours of his body were now very clear.
"Once I've drained this little Weasley girl, I'll leave this place and become the greatest Wizard Hogwarts has ever seen."
"And you, you can rot here with your mudblood friend."
Harry lay on the ground, without even the strength to move a finger.
Was he going to die...? He stared ahead unwillingly, the world reduced to a blur of light and shadow.
Just as his consciousness was about to sink into darkness, an unfamiliar voice rang out in the chamber, tinged with amusement.
"Quite a performance, Senior Tom."
The smile froze on Riddle's face.
He whirled around.
A figure clad in Black Combat Attire stood behind him.
Draco Malfoy.
He stepped out of the shadows, a smile on his face that sent chills down the spine.
"Malfoy?" Riddle's eyes were wary. "How are you here?"
"Me?" Draco's smile widened, revealing white teeth. "I'm here to... clean up."
"You think you're the chess player, Tom?"
Draco's voice was soft, yet it seemed to seep into one's bones.
"You and I, we're both pieces."
"I'm the last piece, the one responsible for clearing the board."
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Draco vanished from his spot.
He moved so fast Riddle's spectral form couldn't react in time.
The next moment, Draco appeared behind him.
"Goodbye."
A cold breath brushed against the back of his ear.
A dagger covered in black runes slid from Draco's sleeve into his reversed grip. Without a moment's hesitation, he drove it viciously into the core of Riddle's body!
"AHHH—!"
Riddle let out a scream that was anything but human.
That dagger was the bane of all spirits!
His body dissolved violently, like ink dropped into clear water, with black magical energy scattering chaotically in all directions.
"No! Impossible! What have you done?!" he shrieked in terror, trying to reform.
"Nothing is impossible."
Draco's hand moved like lightning, pressing directly onto Riddle's already fading head.
An even more domineering, more darkly voracious devouring force than Riddle's own erupted from his palm.
[System Ability: Soul Plunder, activated!]
He was going to devour this soul fragment!
The knowledge of the Dark Arts within Riddle's soul, the life force he had stolen, his understanding of Horcruxes... everything was forcibly and brutally extracted by Draco's system!
"My power... my knowledge... NO—!"
Before his consciousness was completely consumed, Riddle let out one final, despairing wail.
Until his death, he couldn't understand why a Malfoypossessed such devilish methods!
Harry Potter lay on the ground, the Basilisk venom already invading his brain.
In his vision, only a mottled blur of light remained.
In the final moment before losing consciousness, he saw a tall, blurred figure appear behind Voldemort and attack him.
Voldemort was screaming, vanishing... That figure... looked familiar... Was it... Professor Dumbledore?
Professor Dumbledore must have arrived... He... saved me...