The scenery outside the train window gradually darkened as dusk fell over the countryside. The Hogwarts Express began to slow, the rhythmic clatter of wheels softening until it finally came to a stop at the platform.
"First-year students, this way! Mind your step!"
A tall, broad figure stood at the station, shepherding the nervous new arrivals. His booming voice carried over the noise of the crowd. He would lead them to the boats waiting by the lake — a tradition meant to reenact the arrival of the four founders of Hogwarts. Every year, the first-years crossed the dark, shimmering lake in groups of four to reach the castle, while returning students traveled by enchanted carriages.
"Goodbye," Luna called cheerfully, waving to Malfoy.
"Best not to see you again," Malfoy muttered back, though he still raised a hand politely. Of course, avoiding her completely would be impossible.
Following the stream of upperclassmen, Malfoy climbed into one of the waiting carriages. Once filled, it began to roll forward, creaking softly before gaining speed. Though the motion was smooth, there were no visible horses. Some students whispered in awe, guessing what magic made it move.
"If that odd little girl could see this," Malfoy thought, recalling Luna's dreamy expression, "she'd probably have a very different explanation."
He knew she could see the Thestrals pulling the carriages — those skeletal, winged creatures visible only to those who had seen death. "Poor thing," he admitted inwardly. "Compared to that, being stuck with her on the train wasn't much of a torment."
The carriages rattled through the great gates of Hogwarts, the iron creaking open to welcome them home. Before long, the castle loomed into view, its hundreds of glowing windows reflected in the dark surface of the lake below. Inside, the Great Hall was already filled with upper-year students.
Hundreds of candles floated in midair, their golden flames flickering above four long tables crowded with chattering students. The ceiling — enchanted to mirror the sky outside — glittered with the first stars of the evening. Gold plates and goblets gleamed under the warm light.
Malfoy sat down at the Slytherin table, idly prodding at his food while scanning the hall. His gray eyes wandered until they settled on Hermione Granger, who looked unusually anxious. She kept glancing toward the doors, her brow furrowed with worry. Clearly, she was concerned about Harry and Ron, who were late as usual.
"The French are far too hospitable," Malfoy thought dryly, thinking of Pansy Parkinson, who had been delayed abroad. "Turn a simple visit into a grand affair." He smirked faintly. "Typical."
At last, the great side doors opened. The murmur of the hall faded as a line of first-years entered, small and uncertain beneath the tall, vaulted ceiling. Their nervous faces shone in the candlelight. Among them, Malfoy spotted Ginny Weasley — pale, tense, and gripping her robes tightly as if she were walking to her own sentencing.
"Your hero and your brother are probably being lectured by Snape right now," he thought, amused.
Luna Lovegood, by contrast, seemed to float through the hall as if she were in a dream. Her light hair shimmered, and her calm, curious gaze wandered over the enchanted ceiling and floating candles with genuine wonder. Malfoy watched her for a moment — she looked like she was searching for something invisible to everyone else. Their eyes met briefly, and Luna smiled serenely before giving him a small wave. He sighed and looked away.
Professor McGonagall stood by the stool where the Sorting Hat rested. Another year had passed, and the hat looked even worse for wear. Its brim was patched and frayed, with fresh stitches holding together its tattered edges. It looked like it might fall apart at any moment.
"Colin Creevey," she announced crisply.
A small, nervous boy stumbled forward, clutching his camera against his chest. His hands trembled as he placed the hat on his head. After only a moment's pause, the hat shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
The boy's face lit up with excitement, turning a brilliant red. He hurried toward the Gryffindor table, but his enthusiasm dimmed when he realized that his idol, Harry Potter, wasn't there yet.
"Ginny Weasley," McGonagall called next.
The little red-haired girl looked as though she were marching to her execution. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her hands shook as she lifted the old hat. She seemed to fear that it might declare her a Slytherin.
But her worry was unnecessary.
"I've never seen a Weasley go anywhere else — Gryffindor!" shouted the hat almost instantly.
Relief washed over Ginny's face. She nearly collapsed with it, then ran toward her brothers, who were cheering and waving from the Gryffindor table.
"Told you there was nothing to worry about, Ginny!" the twins chorused, grinning broadly.
One by one, more students were called forward. The hat worked swiftly, sorting them without hesitation. The air filled with applause and occasional groans of disappointment as houses gained new members.
Then Professor McGonagall called a name that made a few heads turn.
"Luna Lovegood."
The girl glided forward with the faintest smile, her expression serene. Unlike the others, she didn't seem nervous at all. In fact, she paused before placing the hat on her head, tilting it this way and that as though she were inspecting a curious artifact. The Sorting Hat twitched irritably, muttering under its breath for her to hurry.
A few strands of her pale, silvery hair fell over her face as the hat slipped down over her eyes.
"Hmm," the hat murmured thoughtfully after a long pause. "Now, this is peculiar."
It tilted slightly, as if trying to peer into her mind. "I can't quite follow your thoughts," it admitted at last. "Strange girl. Very strange indeed…" After another moment of silence, it seemed to come to a decision. "Ravenclaw would suit you best, I think."
Luna lifted the hat off her head, smiling dreamily. "Outstanding intelligence is mankind's greatest treasure," she said softly, almost like a chant, then walked toward the Ravenclaw table. A few students rose to welcome her with polite applause, though more than one exchanged puzzled looks.
After several more students were sorted, the ceremony finally came to an end. The Great Hall erupted into noise as the feast began. Plates filled themselves with steaming roasts, vegetables, puddings, and pies.
At the Slytherin table, Malfoy sighed and discreetly flicked his wand beneath the table. "Surdus," he whispered — a charm to dull his own hearing. It was better to fill his ears with meaningless buzzing than endure the cacophony of the Weasley twins leading a magically remixed school song. Around him, students were humming, singing, and clapping in strange rhythms, each house competing to be the loudest.
Lowering his head, Malfoy tried to focus his thoughts. He wasn't interested in the noise or the food. His mind was on something far more serious — and dangerous.
"There are two possibilities," he mused silently. "First — the diary was taken by someone outside the school, and its whereabouts are now unknown. In that case, one of the Horcruxes is gone forever." He frowned slightly. "But that's unlikely."
He leaned back, tracing invisible lines on the table with his finger. "More likely, it was taken by a student. It was sold in a bookstore, after all." His mind flashed to the cursed ring he had once seen — its dark aura impossible to ignore. People were drawn to such objects, whether they wanted to be or not.
"Maybe the diary's material is different," he reasoned. "I didn't feel anything when I touched it — no whispers, no pull." He smirked faintly. "Maybe I've built up a sort of… mental immunity."
Then his tone turned thoughtful again. "So, the second possibility: a student has it now. It could be anyone — even someone who wasn't there that day. The thing could have changed hands half a dozen times by now."
He pressed his fingers to his temple. The more he thought about it, the more it gave him a headache.
The basilisk itself was a smaller concern. Any capable professor could defeat it — McGonagall alone could animate the suits of armor in the corridors and overwhelm it with sheer force. But doing so would reveal the Chamber of Secrets, which he couldn't risk. He couldn't exactly walk up to a teacher and say, "There's a giant snake under the girls' bathroom." They'd demand an explanation he couldn't possibly give.
"I'll have to take things one step at a time," he decided at last. "But I can at least prepare."
He began mentally reviewing his plan — small, careful measures to prevent disaster without drawing attention to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden jolt.
The table trembled violently, snapping him out of his reverie. He looked up and found a familiar face glaring at him — cheeks puffed, eyes narrowed.
Malfoy blinked, momentarily disoriented, then smiled faintly. "Welcome back to school," he said, lifting the spell with a flick of his wand. The surrounding noise returned all at once — laughter, song, and chatter crashing into his ears like a tidal wave. He winced, massaging his temples.
Another year at Hogwarts had begun. And for Draco Malfoy, it was clear that peace and quiet would be the last things he could hope for.
End of Chapter 34.
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