Ch 111
"Tell me what I saw was fake… Malfoy?"
The boy's voice trembled as he spoke. His short, curly black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat; it was easy to imagine how terrified he must have been. Of course, it might also have been because he had run all the way here.
Back in the library he had almost thrown the book aside the instant he saw those words, fleeing as though his life depended on it—crashing into bookshelves, bumping into other students, not caring about anything except getting away. He had rushed straight to the Slytherin common room and found Malfoy sitting by the fireplace, warming himself. To him, Malfoy was the backbone of their house, the one person who could give him an answer he wanted to hear.
Except he hadn't even explained what had happened yet.
The fire in the hearth burned brightly, its flickering light dancing across their faces.
"What are you staring at?" Pansy leaned over, curiosity written all over her small face.
"What are you talking about?" Malfoy frowned, looking genuinely confused—though in truth he had already guessed. The reaction had come sooner than expected.
Looks like Slytherins really do like visiting the library, he thought to himself, keeping his expression carefully blank.
"Come with me."
The boy grabbed Malfoy's wrist, trying to haul him out of his chair and drag him back to the library to confirm whether what he'd seen was real.
"I can walk by myself—let go!" Malfoy tapped his wand lightly against the boy's hand and freed himself, rotating his wrist with annoyance. "I can't imagine what could scare you this badly. You were never a coward before. What—did you find some ancient Dark Magic text?"
His tone was teasing, deliberately so.
"Dark Magic?"
The moment that forbidden phrase was spoken, the other Slytherins lounging nearby immediately gathered around, eyes gleaming with interest.
"No—no! It's not Dark Magic!"
Surrounded by so many people, the boy began to stammer, unsure how to explain. Instinct told him that if what he'd read was true, then letting this many people know would only lead to disaster.
"Then let's all go and see what frightened you so much," Malfoy said with a wave of his hand.
A crowd of Slytherins followed him out of the common room in a grand procession.
"Don't—please don't do this," the boy whispered in panic. He had a terrible feeling he'd just made a catastrophic mistake.
---
"Ridiculous."
Standing beside the shelf in the library, Malfoy spoke with cold certainty—yet the wand in his hand trembled slightly, betraying the fear he was pretending to feel.
Acting isn't easy, he sighed inwardly, though his face remained pale and shaken, the very picture of someone trying to stay composed.
"Tell me—what exactly were you trying to achieve? To fabricate such an outrageous lie and slander the great… that man?"
Without warning Malfoy's trembling stopped. In one swift movement he raised his wand and pressed it against the boy's throat, grey eyes icy and dangerous, as though the library itself had turned into a battlefield.
No one dared move.
"I—I didn't! I swear!"
"I thought it was fake too—that's why I came to ask you!"
Faced with what he believed to be a threat to his life, the boy's legs shook violently. He kept repeating that he had only stumbled upon the book by accident.
"You should be grateful there are so many witnesses today."
Malfoy slowly lowered his wand, wiping it on his sleeve. "Very grateful."
The student felt as if he had just escaped the gates of hell. His robes were soaked with sweat. Why did I open my mouth? I should have pretended I never saw anything.
Some secrets are better left buried.
"We never came to the library today—understood?"
Malfoy narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze across the crowd. Those who met it felt their hearts skip.
"I've been in the dorm all day—Professor Flitwick's homework, you know."
One tall boy slapped his forehead as if suddenly remembering and hurried off.
"I was doing Potions homework…"
"I was at Quidditch practice…"
Excuses flew out one after another. Within moments the crowd scattered like startled birds. The pressure Malfoy had radiated left a deep mark on them, and each silently decided to lock this knowledge away forever.
But a secret known by many was no secret at all.
"Then what about me?" Pansy remained behind, looking at him pitifully. "I saw it too. Are you going to silence me as well?"
Malfoy didn't even glance at her, merely raising his wand lazily.
"Forget—"
"It was a joke!" she yelped, waving her hands. "You wouldn't really use a Memory Charm on me, would you?"
She lowered her eyes, suddenly shy.
"Besides… weren't we on a date in the library? We didn't even open a single book."
"What a coincidence," Malfoy replied calmly, putting his wand away. "I was joking as well. If you have time for games, you should worry about the match with Ravenclaw this afternoon."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"With everyone's morale like this, today might be the worst performance in Slytherin history."
"No way…" Pansy muttered, her mood sinking at once.
"Relax. If you play well, I'll prepare a Christmas surprise for you."
"Maybe…" she answered gloomily. The advantage they had won in the first match now felt completely meaningless, and that thought refused to leave her mind.