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Chapter 35
Of course, that had only been a brief interruption. The hall was so noisy anyone could have missed something in the commotion—though that certainly wasn't the case for Malfoy.
"It's a pity you missed the Sorting Ceremony," Malfoy said with a shrug.
"Honestly? I don't care," Pansy replied. "It's always the same few Houses anyway."
"Oh right—how did you get back?" Malfoy asked, genuinely curious.
Pansy pointed upward and gave him a knowing blink. "You're not the only one with special privileges."
Hogwarts' Floo connections were rarely linked to the outside world—just like how some top-level Muggle supercomputers weren't connected to the internet. It prevented outside intrusion completely. But there were always exceptions. This time, Pansy must have gotten the Headmaster's authorization to temporarily lift the restrictions.
"It's fast, but Merlin, it's nauseating," Pansy muttered, remembering the spinning sensation. "I'd still rather take the train."
"Stop frowning—you'll age twice as fast," Malfoy teased, tapping her lightly on the head. "I'll give you your present tomorrow. I even worked half my holiday at Gringotts for it."
"What is it?" Pansy's eyes lit up immediately.
"It's a secret."
"Tsk." She turned away, disgruntled. "Fine. I won't make you guess. Here." She took out a small, beautifully decorated box and handed it to him with obvious reluctance.
"Thank you," Malfoy said. "You should sleep. You look exhausted."
"Okay." Pansy nodded and headed toward the Slytherin girls' dormitory, dragging her feet.
Not long after, the dreadful school song finally ended, signaling that all students should head back to their dormitories.
Malfoy walked straight to the Gryffindor table.
"What's he doing here?" Hermione felt her heart thump.
But Malfoy wasn't looking for her. He stopped in front of Fred and George Weasley.
"Well, look who it is—little Lord Malfoy," Fred said cheerfully.
"Come to prank us, are you?" George added.
"Just here to make a deal," Malfoy said calmly.
"A deal?" the twins echoed. The Malfoys and Weasleys didn't get along, but the twins weren't Ron—they didn't hate money. In fact, they often needed it.
"The more you make, the better. Here's the deposit." Malfoy handed them a short list and placed several Galleons on the table. Without waiting for their response, he turned and walked away.
"A Howler that sounds like a rooster crowing?" Fred read off the parchment. "George, what's the use of this?"
"No idea," George said. "Maybe he wants to wake himself up in the mornings?" He laughed at his own joke, even when no one else did. "But I do know something—our research fund is full again."
"Excellent," Fred said, grinning. The two exchanged excited looks. With money in their pockets, chaos at Hogwarts would soon follow.
Malfoy, already several steps away, could only think helplessly: It's better than nothing. It's not a real gift anyway. He didn't feel like sitting in the Slytherin common room tonight, so he returned straight to his dormitory.
Meanwhile, the Gryffindor common room was buzzing. Nearly everyone was still awake. Ron and Harry were greeted like heroes the moment they stepped inside. Their story had somehow spread across the entire House through various channels—perhaps by talkative ghosts, or maybe Peeves.
"My brilliant brother! How'd you manage it?" George asked.
"You should've called us—we'd have joined in!" Fred added. "Honestly, you two have real talent. Ever consider going pro in pranking?"
Cheers erupted around Harry as if he'd accomplished something unbelievable.
"You actually flew here?" Hermione demanded. She sounded exactly like Professor McGonagall—disbelieving and stern.
"Oh, don't start lecturing us," Ron groaned. "We didn't lose House points. School hadn't even started yet."
"That's not the point! It was dangerous!" Hermione snapped.
"We're alive, aren't we?" Ron said, stretching out his arms and stomping on the floor. "Look—perfectly fine. Right, Harry?"
"Ron, stop," Harry murmured. He nudged Ron and tilted his head subtly. Ron immediately understood. Percy was approaching, and that meant a scolding was seconds away. They quickly slipped up the spiral staircase to escape.
Their roommates welcomed them back like returning champions. Neville stared at them in awe. The earlier reprimands felt like nothing at all now—they were even a little proud.
They didn't yet know a terrifying Howler was waiting for them at breakfast.
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The next morning, all four Houses sat at their long tables, eating porridge, pickled herring, piles of bread, eggs, and bacon.
"I didn't expect I wasn't the only one to show up late," Pansy said as she and Malfoy chatted. Malfoy told her about Harry and Ron's "glorious deeds."
"So how many points did Gryffindor lose?" Pansy asked eagerly.
"Uh… none. McGonagall probably wanted to deduct points, but since term hadn't started yet, they only got detention." Malfoy still didn't understand her obsession with the House Cup.
"Disappointing." Pansy pouted, clearly annoyed.
"Just wait. There's a show coming," Malfoy said lightly.
"What show?"
"You'll see." Malfoy pointed toward the rafters.
A moment later, hundreds of owls swooped into the Hall, circling before dividing into four streams and dropping letters and parcels onto the students.
"Errol!" Ron shouted.
The poor owl, dazed and exhausted, didn't land properly and crashed straight into Hermione's milk jug. Milk and feathers splattered everywhere. Ron pulled the drooping, soggy owl out of the mess. Errol lay unconscious on the table, legs in the air, clutching a drenched red envelope.
Ron's face paled. Even though he wanted to run, he forced himself to open it.
The moment the seal broke, nearly everyone in the Great Hall clapped their hands over their ears. The echoing shriek shook dust from the ceiling.
Harry had never imagined gentle, kind Mrs. Weasley could sound so furious. Her magically amplified voice rattled plates and spoons and echoed thunderously against the stone walls. Every student turned to stare—except Malfoy and Pansy, who calmly looked away. Ron curled into his seat, face buried, only a patch of red hair visible. Harry stared blankly ahead.
"Oh, and dear Ginny—congratulations on getting into Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."
The tone softened briefly—then the Howler burst into flames.
Ginny hid her face, embarrassed even though the letter hadn't been for her.
Students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw snickered behind their hands. Slytherin laughed openly, louder than Mrs. Weasley herself. Pansy laughed so hard her eyes watered.
"How did you know?" she asked between giggles.
"With their family's finances, what do you think happens when you total a car?" Malfoy replied dryly.
"Well… I suppose I can't understand the lives of the poor," Pansy said, finally calming herself, trying to look proper again. Then she stretched out her hands. "Where's my gift?"
"I knew that's what you were thinking." Malfoy smiled, pulling out a neatly wrapped box.
"Can I open it?" Pansy asked eagerly—though the question was entirely unnecessary.
"Go ahead."
Pansy tore open the wrapping. Inside was an old golden Snitch—though its color had faded to weathered gray. Time had left it worn and dull, its shine long gone.
Pansy gasped, hands flying to her mouth. "It's—can it still fly?"
"Of course. But we'll need a smaller space—otherwise it might fly off and we'll never see it again." Fixing it had required a trip to Borgin and Burkes. And honestly, repairs were sometimes more expensive than the item itself. Between buying his broom and this gift, Malfoy was nearly penniless.
"Thank you," Pansy whispered, cheeks turning pink.
"This isn't like you," Malfoy teased gently.
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