As our story last told, the next day, news of Colin's attack had spread throughout Hogwarts, causing a great stir. The entire school was abuzz with discussion.
The students of the Snake House (Slytherin), hearing that the Heir of Slytherin had returned, were like a parched land receiving sweet rain. Joy filled their faces; they had found their champion. They walked with their chests puffed out, immensely proud, like pugs seeing their master return.
The students of the other three Houses, however, felt as if the Sword of Damocles hung over their heads. Everyone feared for their own safety.
Furthermore, Slytherin students would often point and whisper from the shadows, like grim reapers checking their lists. It was as if they were secretly dispatching the Heir to claim lives.
In an instant, the great castle was filled with paranoia. Even the great boaster, Lockhart, fell silent, daring not to speak of his ambitions for "Muggle-wizard harmony," terrified he might anger the Heir and invite his own doom.
At lunch, Hermione listened to Harry recount the strange events of the previous night, her brow furrowed with worry. "Oh, this is too strange. Not only can we not find where the Basilisk is hiding, we aren't even sure who is controlling it."
Ron mused, "What if Malfoy recorded his commands on a radio and hid the contraption inside the Basilisk's stomach? I saw a radio in my dad's junk pile. It can hide voices in a little box. It's as magical as magic itself."
"Absolutely not," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Why would Malfoy ever use a Muggle invention? I'd sooner believe Fred and George will get 'Outstanding' on more than ten O.W.Ls."
As the two argued, Harry spoke. "Sister, Brother, do not be hasty. We must only wait for the Polyjuice Potion to be ready. Then, we shall sneak into the Slytherin common room and investigate. We will surely catch that scoundrel's weakness."
Hermione nodded. "I've calculated the time. The potion will be ready a few days before Christmas—but who will we disguise ourselves as?"
"Crabbe and Goyle, of course. Those two are closest to Malfoy." Ron cracked his knuckles and grinned. "I can take both of them down by myself."
Hermione shook her head. "But they're hard to catch. The other day, Ginny and I were chatting on the stairs. The moment they saw me, they ran faster than the Golden Snitch."
In the past, the two were all blubber; one could have given them a 500-step head start and still caught them. But now, after consuming so much of that "muscle-building potion," their courage hadn't grown, but their speed at fleeing certainly had. If they tried to use force and the two oafs squealed like pigs, it would ruin the whole plan.
Hermione rested her chin on her hand. "This is troublesome. I wonder if I can just... pluck a few hairs during Potions class..."
Hearing this, Harry's eyes lit up. "Sister, you needn't worry. This one has a plan. I just need a few trusted brothers to help, and I guarantee we'll get those hairs."
He motioned for Ron and Hermione to come close and whispered the cunning plan.
When they heard it, their eyes lit up, and they cheered.
"We'll do it exactly as you said!"
"Brilliant, Harry!" Hermione said, overjoyed. "How did you think of that?"
Harry laughed. "This one has just seen a little more, and heard a little more, that's all."
Ron and Hermione, having received their orders, went their separate ways to prepare.
Time flew by, and in the following days, no one else was attacked. The students began to relax, assuming the old Basilisk was near the end of its life and had finally given up the ghost.
It was now the eve of the Christmas holiday. The Great Hall was decorated, and everyone was in high spirits, waiting to go home.
At the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle, those two gluttons, were buried in their food. Their bellies were round as drums, but still they did not stop. Their faces were slick with grease, and food spattered everywhere. Pansy, sitting nearby, frowned and scooted away.
"Can you two stop eating? Don't forget we have to meet Draco tonight!"
As the saying goes: A beauty's frown can fell a hero. But Crabbe and Goyle were no heroes; they were just two simpletons who knew only food and drink. They stared at their plates, deaf to her complaints.
"Mmph... 'on't worry... a little late is fine..."
"Yeah. If you're in a hurry, you can go first."
Pansy crossed her arms. "Did you forget what he said? He told me to bring you two... with... me."
Her words were harsh, but the two oafs let them pass like the wind.
Only when the feast ended and the plates were empty did they reluctantly grab a final, fat chicken leg each and amble after Pansy toward the common room.
Just as they rounded a corner, they saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing in the corridor, laughing.
The two oafs' hearts leaped. As if seeing a ghost, they grabbed Pansy, spun around, and ran. They didn't stop for a hundred paces.
Pansy, dragged along, nearly fell. "What are you two running for? My shoes are falling off!"
Goyle, still terrified, panted, "Didn't you see Harry Potter? And Weasley and Granger? Those three are bad news!"
Crabbe, also gasping, added, "Haven't you heard their nicknames? 'The Scar-faced Lad' and 'Death-Defying Sixth Brother'? And that Granger, she's always with them. She can't be simple."
Pansy, annoyed at their cowardice, snapped, "So what if they're famous? Are they going to stop us from passing?"
"You haven't been beaten by that Scar-head. You don't know how fierce he is." Goyle felt a phantom ache in his arm and temple. "Let's just go around. I don't want to end up in the hospital wing again."
Pansy, outnumbered, had to follow them the long way.
They wound through corridors and courtyards, arriving at a quiet corner. Suddenly, they saw a bundled-up, white-haired little maiden leaning against the wall, a small oak cask at her feet.
The girl saw them, rubbed her cold nose, and waved. "Good evening. Would you like to buy some Butterbeer?"
Listen, readers: Butterbeer was a specialty of Hogsmeade. It was fragrant, rich, and sweet—a fine drink for chasing away the cold.
Crabbe and Goyle, hearing "Butterbeer," were instantly consumed by gluttony. They forgot everything else.
Pansy grabbed them. "Are you two brainless? Only third-years can go to Hogsmeade. She doesn't even look like a second-year!"
The white-haired girl, hearing this, didn't get angry. She just replied sweetly, "A senior student asked me to help her sell it. It's especially for students who can't go to Hogsmeade yet."
"See? It's just a student trying to earn extra money," Crabbe smiled. "Don't those Weasley twins sell joke items all the time?"
Pansy, hearing this, was half-convinced but still suspicious. She looked the girl up and down. Platinum-blonde hair, a blue scarf... she suddenly recalled some gossip.
"You're... that Luna from Ravenclaw?"
Luna blinked. "Do you know me?"
Pansy coughed. "I've... heard of you."
Loony Luna. Never fits in, always says crazy things. No one in Ravenclaw talks to her.
In that case... it's not strange she's selling Butterbeer. She's probably just being used as an errand girl.
As Pansy was thinking, Crabbe and Goyle had already lifted the cask's lid and were sniffing, drool nearly 'falling like a waterfall' (口中馋涎好似瀑落, kǒuzhōng chánxián hǎosì pùluò).
"Hey!" Pansy yelled. "Do you two want to see Draco or not?"
She pulled them aside. "This Luna is too weird. Even if she's selling Butterbeer, she should be in a crowded place, not a deserted corner."
"Besides, she's a famous weirdo. She's probably put troll boogers in it."
At this, Crabbe and Goyle hesitated, staring at the cask.
Just as they were stuck, two red-haired ruffians appeared, arms slung over each other's shoulders, laughing.
It was none other than the pranksters, Fred and George.
"Do you want to buy Butterbeer?" Luna asked.
The two perked up. "Funny you should ask! We were just thinking we could use a hot drink to warm up."
They rushed over and sniffed the cask.
Fred looked doubtful. "Why does this smell... different from the one I had in Hogsmeade?"
"You're right, it is a bit," George agreed. "Can we... try a sip?"
"Alright, but only a small sip."
The twins, seeing she agreed, drew their wands and used a levitation charm. Two small globs of golden liquid rose from the cask and flew into their mouths.
"Mmm. Tastes great. We'll buy a cup."
George, saying this, pulled a round flask from his robes. With a flick of his wand, the Butterbeer flowed from the cask into his flask.
Luna waited until he was full before saying, "Ah, but the senior told me... this cask can't be sold piecemeal."
"What? Not piecemeal?" Fred yelped.
"We don't have that much money!" George's eyes went wide.
He quickly put his wand away, poured all the liquid from his flask back into the cask, and he and Fred turned to leave, looking dejected.
Goyle, who had watched the whole thing, couldn't stand it. "See! They drank it and they're fine!"
Pansy was still hesitating, but Crabbe had already lunged forward and seized the cask.
"I'll buy it!"
He asked the price, and he and Goyle pooled their money.
Luna counted it carefully, then pulled three mugs from her robes and handed them over.
Crabbe and Goyle, who had been craving this, immediately began to scoop out the beer. They drank greedily, leaving white foam around their mouths.
After drinking half the cask, they burped and invited Pansy to try.
Pansy, seeing them drink so happily—and seeing the Weasley brothers were fine—felt her own craving stir. She had never tried Butterbeer, and the aroma had already made her mouth dry.
She took a mug and scooped.
One sip, and Pansy felt a warm current flow from her throat to her limbs. The flavor was rich and the aftertaste long. It was truly extraordinary!
The three of them surrounded the cask, drinking cup after cup. In no time, seven-tenths of it was gone.
Just as they were lost in their feasting... Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared behind them. Harry pointed.
"Fall," he said. "Fall."
The three Slytherins looked at each other, their heads heavy, and suddenly went limp, collapsing to the floor, motionless.
Now, I ask you, why did they collapse like mud? It was because the Butterbeer was laced with a sleeping draught (蒙汗药, ménghànyào).
And how was it administered? Oh, the trick was clever.
The Butterbeer in Luna's cask was originally fine. Fred and George drank some intentionally for the others to see, just to seal their trust.
Then, George took out his flask—the inside of which was coated with the sleeping draught—and "filled" it. When he pretended to be annoyed and poured it back, in that single act of filling and returning, the fine nectar in the cask was turned into a soul-stealing poison soup.
As the three lay unconscious, Fred and George emerged from the shadows, grinning, yet looking wistful.
"Your Majesty, the Lion King," George said, "I never could have thought of such a brilliant idea in my entire life."
Fred nodded gravely. "This is truly a historic moment in the history of pranks."
Harry laughed. "You two brothers praise me too much. This one was merely... borrowing from the wisdom of others."
He pulled two bags of Galleons from his robes, tossed them to the twins, and then handed several more coins to Luna, bowing deeply.
"Today, this one has troubled Sister, forcing you to sing and act in this great play. If not for you, how could this one have caught these two fat loaches?"
"In the future, if Sister needs anything, be it a mountain of knives or a sea of fire, just ask. This one will not hesitate."
Luna took the money and tilted her head. "I want to see the Basilisk."
"I don't know why, but when I say that in the common room, the older students get very angry."
Fred and George looked at each other, stunned.
Who in their right mind... wants to see a Basilisk? Does she have a death wish?
Harry just nodded seriously. "Sister, do not worry. When this one finds the Basilisk, I will ensure it leaves a whole corpse, and I will deliver it to you."
(Ron scratched his head, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.)
After sending the three helpers off, Hermione plucked the hairs from the three unconscious Slytherins and dropped them into the waiting vials of Polyjuice Potion.
The hairs hissed as they hit the liquid and dissolved.
The trio hid in a storage closet. Harry took the vial with Goyle's hair and was about to drink it, when Ron and Hermione cried out in unison.
"No!"
"Harry, don't!"
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