Chapter 94 Cooperation
Hogwarts was exceptionally lively on the weekend.
Students, free from classes, were playing outside the Castle.
The moment Lucius stepped through the Castle gates, the tall, strong man behind him couldn't help but exclaim.
"It's been a long time since I've been back."
He looked up at the familiar stone pillars and arches, a nostalgic expression flashing in his eyes.
"Hogwarts is still the same, it hasn't changed at all."
He paused, his tone suddenly becoming disdainful.
"It's a pity the Principal now is that old man Dumbledore."
"And there are so many damned Mudbloods in the school."
Lucius's brow instantly furrowed into a frown.
He spun around abruptly, lowering his voice in warning:
"Goyle, when you see Charlie later, speak less."
"It's best if you keep your mouth shut."
Goyle was a bit unconvinced.
"Just a student, is there really a need to be so nervous?"
Lucius was almost laughed by him.
"Goyle, if you have that attitude, then don't expect to earn any money."
"Go back and live off your old savings."
This instantly made Goyle behave.
Although they were both Pure-blood Families, the House of Goyle's days were not easy.
He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, his tone softening considerably.
"I'll listen to you, I won't speak after we meet."
Lucius nodded in satisfaction.
"Remember, when we meet later, I'll do all the talking."
"As agreed before, the profits will be split three-seven."
Goyle frowned, feeling it was inappropriate again.
"Three-seven split? Why do we only get seven-tenths?"
Lucius's face was ashen, his teeth gritted.
"Seven-tenths is theirs!"
"We can only take three-tenths!"
Goyle's expression instantly fell.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing Lucius's expression, he wisely closed it.
Lucius genuinely wanted to hit him with a Crucio to clear his head.
But the House of Goyle was one of the House of Malfoy's most loyal allies, and he really had no other choice.
Soon, Lucius finished his visit with Dumbledore and borrowed an empty classroom from Dumbledore.
Dumbledore readily agreed, after all, Lucius's current status was a Hogwarts school governor, so this much deference had to be given.
In the empty classroom, Lucius tidied his robes, ensuring every detail was perfect.
He checked the time; there were still a few minutes until the appointed time.
"Draco should be bringing Charlie soon."
Lucius mentally strategized for the upcoming conversation.
At this moment, the classroom door was pushed open.
Draco walked in first, followed by Charlie.
As soon as Charlie entered, he scanned the classroom, his gaze finally landing on Lucius.
"Mr. Malfoy." Charlie nodded politely.
Lucius stood up, a standard aristocratic smile on his face.
"Charlie, it's a pleasure to see you."
"Please sit." Lucius gestured, inviting Charlie to sit down.
Charlie didn't stand on ceremony, directly sitting in a chair, then asked straightforwardly.
"Mr. Malfoy, what can I do for you?"
Goyle frowned from the side.
Why is this kid so direct? He has no manners, doesn't even know how to make small talk?
Lucius was also taken aback, not expecting Charlie to be so direct.
However, he quickly adjusted, thinking that perhaps all Potions Masters had such personalities.
"Alright, since you're so direct, I won't beat around the bush." Lucius cleared his throat.
"I'm here this time to discuss a business deal with you."
Charlie raised an eyebrow, signaling him to continue.
"I hope the House of Malfoy can become your agent." Lucius's tone became formal.
"We are willing to help you sell the Potions you brew, and we'll split the profits three-seven."
"Seven-tenths for you, three-tenths for us."
He didn't use any negotiation tactics with Charlie but directly offered his sincerity.
Because he was very optimistic about Charlie's future.
After listening, Charlie didn't answer immediately but looked at Lucius thoughtfully.
The healing potion was indeed extremely difficult to brew; besides Charlie, only a handful of Potions Masters in the entire magic world could successfully brew it.
Lucius sought cooperation with Charlie partly because Charlie, as the developer, brewed the most effective healing potion.
Secondly, Charlie's talent was truly astonishing; at only twelve years old, he could brew Potions of this caliber.
Who knows what new Potions he would develop in the future? If they could establish a long-term cooperative relationship with Charlie, they would be able to get these precious Potions firsthand.
This was the real reason they were willing to give a seventy percent profit.
Charlie was silent for a few seconds, then slowly spoke: "I want eighty percent."
"However, any new Potions I brew in the future can also be given to you for sale."
When Goyle heard this, he instantly couldn't sit still.
Eighty percent?
Wouldn't they become beggars kneeling for food?
With a "thump," Goyle stood up from his chair, just about to speak.
But as he looked up, he saw Lucius's cold eyes staring intently at him.
The warning in those eyes was too obvious, and Goyle wisely closed his mouth.
Lucius's face was grim, his tone clearly displeased.
"Goyle, what are you standing up for?"
Goyle awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
"I... I need to go to the toilet."
"Then why aren't you hurrying up and getting out?"
Goyle scurried out of the classroom.
After Goyle left, the classroom fell silent.
Lucius fell into deep thought.
One-tenth of the profit for an exclusive sales quota for a Potions Master, this deal didn't seem like a loss.
Moreover, Charlie was the youngest Potions Master in the magic world; from a marketing perspective, this gimmick alone was attractive enough.
A healing potion personally brewed by a twelve-year-old Potions Master would be hard not to sell.
And Charlie had just promised that any newly developed Potions in the future would also be given to them for sale.
With Charlie's talent, there would surely be more amazing works released in the future.
If they didn't seize this opportunity now, by the time Charlie truly matured, they probably wouldn't even have the qualifications to discuss cooperation.
Thinking of this, Lucius nodded: "Deal."
"However, I have a condition." Lucius added.
"What condition?" Charlie asked.
"I hope we can sign a formal contract to ensure our cooperative relationship." Lucius said.
"Additionally, I hope you can provide at least one hundred bottles of healing potion each month."
Charlie thought for a moment; one hundred bottles of healing potion was not a difficult task for him.
"Okay, but I also have a condition." Charlie said.
"You say."
"I will provide you with Potions every month, but when I brew them and how I brew them is none of your business."
Charlie's tone became serious.
He didn't want anyone to force him to brew Potions and take up too much of his time.
Lucius quickly nodded: "Of course, that's only right."
The two quickly finalized the details of the cooperation.
Lucius pulled out a contract he had prepared long ago from his robes, modified a few clauses with magic, and then handed it to Charlie.
Charlie carefully read through the contract, confirmed there were no traps, and then signed his name on it.
Lucius also signed the contract, then used magic to make a copy for Charlie.
"Happy cooperation." Lucius extended his hand.
"Happy cooperation."
Chapter 95 A Secret Trip to Hogsmeade Village
With the deal settled, Charlie had planned to return to the common room.
But Draco eagerly tugged at his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Charlie, don't leave yet."
Draco's voice was thrilled, like a child wanting to show off a new toy.
"I have a big treasure to show you."
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"What is it?"
"Come with me and you'll find out."
Draco mysteriously led Charlie to another empty classroom.
Pushing open the door.
Inside the classroom, seven brand-new brooms were neatly arranged, each one gleaming and smooth.
They had a streamlined design, exquisite hand-carved details, and the iconic golden embellishments.
"The latest nimbus 2001!"
Draco spread his arms, his voice full of pride.
"They were just produced last month."
Charlie walked closer to examine the brooms carefully.
They were indeed good quality; at least their appearance was far superior to the school-provided Cleansweep series.
Just by looking at them, one could feel how fast they would fly.
"Where did you get so many brooms?" Charlie asked.
Draco proudly puffed out his chest.
"My father sponsored them."
"I'm now the new Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team."
Charlie gave him a strange look.
"You got in through the back door."
Draco's face instantly flushed red.
"What back door?!" He excitedly waved his hands.
"Sponsorship, can that be called getting in through the back door?"
"Harry just relies on his Nimbus 2000."
Then came more incomprehensible words like "sponsorship" and "fairness."
The classroom was filled with cheerful air.
Charlie ignored Draco.
He looked at the brooms and fell into thought.
He had watched his own house's matches last semester.
Cedric was a strong Seeker, and the other players were also good.
But the brooms were simply too poor.
Hufflepuff used old antiques provided by the school, some even decades old.
Their flying speed was slow, maneuverability poor, and they were prone to breaking down at critical moments.
Watching the matches last semester was like watching the national football team in his previous life, angry at their lack of ambition... Soon, Lucius sent a large amount of Potion ingredients.
Charlie moved all the ingredients into his undetectable extension trunk and began a new round of Potion-making.
Brewing healing potion was a skilled job, but for Charlie, it was already second nature.
He simultaneously controlled a dozen cauldrons, his magic flowing from his wand tip, precisely controlling the timing of each ingredient's addition.
Heat, temperature, stirring frequency – every detail had to be perfect.
In half a day, Charlie had brewed all the ingredients.
Now, he just needed to wait a month for the Potion to be complete.
Time came to Saturday.
Students in their third year and above could apply to visit Hogsmeade on weekends, which was the largest Wizarding village in Britain.
Charlie had nothing to do on the weekend and also wanted to see it.
Logically speaking, Charlie couldn't go yet.
But Charlie usually didn't play by the rules.
He went directly to The Twins, knowing that with their familiarity with the Castle, they would surely know where there were secret passages to get out.
Fred and George had just come out of the Gryffindor common room; they were about to gather in the courtyard to leave for Hogsmeade.
The Galleons they had received from Charlie at the end of last semester hadn't been spent yet, and they wanted to check out the Joke Shop for any new prank items.
Seeing Charlie approach, the two exchanged a glance.
"Charlie, good morning."
"Good morning, I came to find you."
"Happy to serve our King."
Fred comically bowed to Charlie.
"Do you have any way to sneak out of school?" Charlie asked directly.
"Want to go to Hogsmeade?" George raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
The Twins exchanged glances again, then simultaneously revealed mysterious smiles.
"Come with us."
They led Charlie to a corner, and Fred pulled out a seemingly ordinary piece of parchment from his robes.
"This is our secret," George said proudly.
"Come on, show me," Charlie raised an eyebrow.
Fred unfolded the parchment, then took out his wand and tapped the paper lightly.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
"Repeat after me," George urged.
Charlie did as he was told: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The parchment instantly changed.
Ink emerged from the paper, rapidly sketching and drawing, forming complex lines and patterns.
Large green letters appeared at the top:
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids for Magical Mischief-Makers
Are proud to present
The Marauder's Map.
A few seconds later, a detailed map appeared before Charlie.
This map marked all the information of Hogwarts Castle; every room, every corridor, every secret passage was clearly visible.
Even more miraculously, there were countless small dots moving on the map, each with a name next to it.
Charlie could see Professor McGonagall in her office, presumably grading homework.
Snape was in the dungeons, possibly brewing Potion.
And himself, Fred, and George gathered together.
"This is the Marauder's Map," Fred explained.
"We use this to wander the school at night without getting caught," George added.
Charlie carefully studied the map and found that it indeed marked several secret passages leading to Hogsmeade.
"Now, we pass it on to you," Fred solemnly handed the map to Charlie.
"We've memorized all the secret passages."
"But remember to say 'Mischief Managed' when you're done, and the map will turn back into ordinary parchment."
Charlie took the map, feeling a little touched.
This item was absolutely priceless to The Twins, yet they were willing to give it to him.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it, we're friends," George patted Charlie's shoulder.
The Twins joined the main group heading to Hogsmeade.
After they had gone far, Charlie took out the Marauder's Map and studied it carefully.
According to the map, there were seven secret passages to Hogsmeade, but five of them had been sealed off or collapsed.
Only two were still usable.
Charlie chose one of the routes that seemed most unobstructed.
Following the map's instructions, he arrived at the Gunhilda of Gorsemoor corridor on the third floor of the Castle.
Few people passed through here, and the corridor was quiet.
Charlie found the hunchbacked, one-eyed Witch statue marked on the map.
The statue looked very ordinary, just an ugly stone Witch, her single eye staring forward, her hunchback curved.
Charlie took out his wand and, following the tip on the map, lightly tapped the statue's hunchback.
"Finite Incantatem."
As soon as the spell was cast, the statue changed.
The hunchback slowly opened, revealing a dark, cavernous entrance.
Charlie looked inside and saw a stone slide, extending diagonally downwards, with no end in sight.
Charlie plunged in without hesitation.
[Your Majesty privately left the palace for an incognito visit, tyrant points +5]
The slide was very smooth, and Charlie began to accelerate downwards as soon as he entered.
It was pitch black all around, and he could only hear the sound of himself sliding on the stone.
The slide twisted and turned, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, like a giant spiral.
Charlie slid in the darkness for about ten minutes before finally seeing light ahead.
He slid out from the end of the slide, landing on a pile of soft cushions.
Most likely, Fred and George had placed them there.
This was the bottom of a stone staircase, and the air was filled with the aroma of alcohol and sweet candy.
Charlie stood up, dusted himself off, and then walked forward.
At the end was a trapdoor.
Charlie gently pushed open the door and climbed up.
The view suddenly opened up.
He was now in a cellar, surrounded by various candy boxes and barrels of alcohol.
A sign hung on the wall: Honeydukes Sweetshop.
"Looks like the candy shop's cellar."
Charlie tidied his clothes, then walked towards the stairs.
Chapter 96 Buying a Flying Broom
Charlie pretended to buy candy, casually picking out a few boxes of Chewing Gum and Fizzing Whizbees.
The shop assistant, a plump middle-aged Witch, saw Charlie suddenly appear and a flicker of doubt crossed her eyes.
Was he among the people who just came in?
But upon seeing the money Charlie handed over, she instantly dropped her concerns.
She took Charlie's money and said enthusiastically, "Have a wonderful time."
Charlie walked out of Honeydukes with his bag of candy, and the view before him opened up.
Hogsmeade's main street was bustling with students all wearing Hogwarts uniforms.
They gathered in twos and threes, excitedly discussing which shop to visit.
The atmosphere here was completely different from Diagon Alley.
Diagon Alley felt more like a bustling commercial street, with shops lined up one after another, full of urban noise.
Hogsmeade, however, was a quiet town, with winding cobblestone streets and quaint wooden houses on either side.
The town had all sorts of shops for Wizards' daily needs.
Warm yellow lanterns hung at the entrance of the Three Broomsticks pub, from which laughter and the clinking of glasses emanated.
The display window of Dervish and Banges was filled with various magic items, from telescopes to scales, everything imaginable.
There were also stationery shops, robe specialty stores, magic barber shops, and so on.
Charlie strolled leisurely down the street, entering any shop that caught his interest.
If he liked something, he would buy it extensively and have the owner send it to Hogwarts by Owl.
After an entire morning of browsing, Charlie suddenly saw a shop.
"Spinning Witch's Flying Broomstick Emporium"
The shop was not large, but its display window showcased all sorts of flying broomsticks.
From the ancient Cleansweep series to the latest Nimbus series, the selection was dazzling.
Charlie suddenly remembered that the Hufflepuff Quidditch team's brooms were terrible.
If the brooms were better, the quidditch cup might just belong to his own House.
In order not to feel as helpless as watching the national football team when watching a match.
Charlie decided to be the top supporter for the House team.
Speaking of which, being the top supporter should definitely earn him some tyrant points, right?
He pushed the door open.
The shop owner was a tall, thin middle-aged Wizard wearing thick glasses.
He was polishing a gleaming silver broom and looked up at the sound of the doorbell.
Seeing Charlie's well-tailored and high-quality Wizard robe, the owner's eyes instantly lit up.
This was a wealthy customer.
He quickly put down the broom in his hand and greeted him warmly.
"Welcome to Spinning Witch!" the owner rubbed his hands.
"Sir, are you looking to choose a broom for yourself?"
"We have the most complete range of broom models here, from the entry-level Cleansweep Five to the professional Nimbus series, we have everything."
Charlie glanced around the shop and got straight to the point.
"Do you have the nimbus 2001?"
"Yes, yes, yes! Of course we do!"
He rubbed his hands excitedly.
"The nimbus 2001 is the latest model released this year; no one has come to buy it since I stocked it!"
"You truly have good taste; this is currently the top-tier flying broomstick on the market."
Charlie nodded: "I want seven."
"Seven?" The owner's voice was astonished.
A hint of suspicion flashed in his eyes; even the wealthiest Pure-blood Families wouldn't let a child buy such expensive items on his own, would they?
Was he being played?
"Are you sure it's seven?"
"I'm sure," Charlie said calmly.
Although the owner was still smiling warmly, his eyes had sobered up.
"It's not that I don't trust you, but seven nimbus 2001s is no small sum... the Galleons..."
Charlie pulled out a large chunk of gold and tossed it to the owner.
"This is the deposit."
[Your Majesty is extravagant, tyrant points +10]
The owner took the gold, examined it, and instantly turned red with excitement:
"Oh, what are you doing, can I not trust you?"
"What I meant was that the Galleons for seven brooms are too much, you certainly wouldn't have them on you; I can go with you to Gringotts to withdraw the money."
"Look at this situation, I won't say anything else, I'll go get your order ready."
He hurried to the warehouse behind the shop, his steps as light as a young man's.
Charlie watched his retreating figure, speechless for a moment; he was indeed an experienced businessman.
Suddenly, a question surfaced in his mind.
Why do most Wizards ride broomsticks?
Couldn't it be something else?
Soon, the owner returned with a large stack of beautifully packaged boxes.
"Seven nimbus 2001s, I'll give you a ten percent discount."
He carefully placed the boxes on the counter, afraid of bumping or scratching them.
Charlie seized the opportunity to ask the question on his mind.
"Boss, I'm very curious, why do Wizards use broomsticks for flying?"
"Can't they use other things?"
"Oh, you're asking about that," he pushed up his glasses.
"There's a historical anecdote behind it."
"The flying broomstick was invented by a great Witch during the Middle Ages."
The owner's tone became serious, clearly knowledgeable about this history.
"At that time, it was the height of the Witch Hunts, Witches were cruelly persecuted and had to hide their identities to survive."
"Most Witches of that era disguised themselves as ordinary housewives, and housewives often carried a broom to clean."
"This clever Witch transformed ordinary brooms into flying broomsticks, so they could easily escape at any time without arousing Muggle suspicion."
As the owner spoke, a look of admiration flashed in his eyes.
"Later, to commemorate this great Witch, flying instruments continued to adopt the shape of a broom."
"This has become a tradition in the European magic world."
Charlie suddenly understood; so there was such a historical background.
However, a new idea popped into his head.
"So, can other shapes be customized?" Charlie asked.
The owner was stunned for a moment; such a request was indeed rare.
He scratched his head: "Theoretically, yes, but..."
"But what?"
"The cost would be very high," the owner said with some difficulty.
"Customization requires redesigning the flying runes, adjusting the balance system, and the craftsmanship is much more complex."
"And because it deviates from the traditional design, achieving the same stability would be more difficult."
He subtly glanced at Charlie.
Charlie pulled out another piece of gold from his pocket and gently placed it on the counter.
The gleaming gold shimmered under the light.
"Is that enough?" Charlie asked calmly.
[Your Majesty spends money like water, throwing away thousands of gold, tyrant points +10]
The owner's eyeballs almost popped out.
"Enough, enough!" the owner nodded frantically.
"Absolutely enough!"
His voice trembled with excitement: "What shape do you want to customize? A magic carpet? Or something else?"
Charlie asked the owner to lean closer: "I want it like this, like this..."
The owner suddenly understood.
"Got it, got it."
Charlie left his recipient name.
"Please package these seven brooms and send them to Hogwarts."
He wasn't worried that the owner would be untrustworthy.
Having run a shop in Hogsmeade for so long, no normal person would ruin their reputation for a single transaction.
Of course, if he really wasn't quite normal, Charlie would help him become normal.
Chapter 97 Seven Brooms Shock the Entire Audience
When Charlie returned to the Castle from Hogsmeade, it was already getting dark.
He bought Ernie many gifts.
This was a reward for his homework tool (scratch that) his trusted little brother.
But on second thought, Hermione also did homework for him, so he couldn't play favorites.
Since Hermione was getting one, Harry, Ron, Malfoy, Senior Jenny, The Twins, and Justin also had to be included.
Charlie gave Ernie a set of high-quality magic stationery: quill, ink bottle, and parchment, all from the best brands.
This would ensure he wrote his assignments non-stop, flowing like a torrent.
He gave Senior Jenny an exquisite necklace inlaid with a glowing gem.
Senior Jenny excitedly rushed towards Charlie, wanting to kiss him.
Charlie was quick, extending his hand to block her face.
The sly woman actually wanted to take advantage of me.
During the dinner, Charlie took out the gifts for the students from the other Houses.
He bought Hermione a collector's edition of A Comprehensive Guide to Common Spells.
Upon receiving it, Hermione excitedly grabbed Charlie's sleeve and shook him wildly.
The Twins' gift contained some rare prank material and tools.
Ron's gift was a chess set, with exquisitely carved pieces.
Draco received an exquisite cufflink, engraved with the House of Malfoy crest.
Draco took the cufflink and happily put it on.
What he valued was not the worth of the cufflink, but Charlie's willingness to prepare a gift for him, and one that suited him perfectly.
"Thank you, Charlie, I really like it."
After thanking him, Draco shot a challenging glance at Harry.
Harry narrowed his eyes, wishing he could punch Draco.
Charlie then gave Harry his gift, which was a full set of Quidditch protective gear.
Harry also excitedly accepted the gift, then challenged Draco right back.
Their gazes collided in the air, almost sparking.
Early the next morning.
During breakfast in the Great Hall, students and Professors were dining at their respective tables.
Suddenly, a large flock of Owls flew in from the ceiling.
This was common at Hogwarts; Owls frequently delivered letters and packages.
But today was somewhat different.
Seven particularly large Owls stood out, clutching long, large packages in their talons, flying straight toward Charlie.
The eyes of the entire Great Hall were drawn to them.
"What is that?" a student whispered.
"The packages are so long."
"They look very heavy."
The seven Owls landed in front of Charlie, carefully placing the packages on the table.
Charlie took out some Owl treats and fed them, then began unwrapping the packages.
The first layer was thick anti-shock packaging.
The second layer was exquisite silk wrapping cloth.
When Charlie tore open the final layer of packaging, the entire Great Hall fell silent.
Seven brand new nimbus 2001 brooms appeared before everyone.
Streamlined design, delicate hand carving, and the signature golden decorations.
Every broom was sleek and shiny, glistening under the light.
"Merlin's beard!" a student gasped.
"That's the nimbus 2001!"
"The latest model!"
"Oh my, Charlie actually bought seven at once?"
The entire Great Hall instantly erupted.
The nimbus 2001 was the newest broom model released this year, and its price was ridiculously expensive.
One cost at least a thousand Galleons; how much did seven cost combined?
Even the teachers at the Professor's table were stunned.
Professor McGonagall put down her teacup, her eyes filled with disbelief.
Professor Flitwick even stood up directly, wanting to see more clearly.
Although Snape was expressionless, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.
Malfoy stared at the seven brooms, completely dumbfounded.
Just yesterday, he was showing off the nimbus 2001 his father bought for the team.
And now Charlie had seven of them?
He had a bad feeling.
Harry and Ron were also stunned.
They knew Charlie was rich, but they hadn't realized he was this rich.
Charlie placed the seven brooms in front of Cedric, who was the Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditchteam.
Cedric was eating bread, and upon seeing the priceless brooms in front of him, he was completely bewildered.
"This... what does this mean?"
"They are for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team."
Cedric was so excited his hands were trembling.
But he quickly realized the brooms were too valuable, and looked toward the Professor's table, feeling somewhat overwhelmed.
Professor Sprout was also shocked by this scene.
She put down her cutlery and quickly walked over.
"Charlie, this is too valuable," Professor Sprout said seriously.
"The House cannot accept such an expensive gift."
Charlie had anticipated this reaction.
"Professor, I am not donating the brooms to the House," Charlie explained.
"I am merely lending them to the House for use."
Hearing this, Professor Sprout's expression became conflicted.
"Besides, I already bought them; it would be a waste not to use them."
"I want to see the House win the championship."
"Winning the quidditch cup will be the best repayment to me."
Charlie's request was reasonable: exchanging the brooms for victory in the quidditch cup.
"In that case..." Professor Sprout nodded and said solemnly.
"Charlie, on behalf of the House, I thank you for your sponsorship. You will be an outstanding contributor to the House."
Seeing that the Professor had agreed, Cedric immediately became excited.
He carefully picked up one of the brooms, feeling its perfect balance and smooth texture.
"Charlie, I promise you," Cedric said earnestly.
"We will definitely win the championship!"
The other Hufflepuff team members also gathered around, their faces alight with excitement.
Although Hufflepuff was not known for competitiveness, since Charlie had done so much for them, they absolutely would not slack off and disappoint him.
They would at least fight with all their might to win the quidditch cup.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick exchanged a look at the Professor's table, their eyes full of envy.
Why wasn't Charlie a Gryffindor (Ravenclaw) student!
Malfoy sat at the Slytherin long table, staring at Charlie in disbelief.
Oh no, it seemed his bragging to Charlie had backfired.
Chapter 98 Quidditch Battle
Cedric held the nimbus 2001, completely unwilling to let go.
For those who love Quidditch, a good broom is as precious as a wife.
"Professor, may I request to use the Quidditch Pitch today?"
Cedric asked Professor Sprout.
"We must start training immediately!"
Professor Sprout looked at her student's enthusiastic demeanor and wouldn't dampen his spirits.
"Of course, I'll write you a pass right away."
She pulled out her quill and quickly wrote on the parchment.
"But Cedric, remember to take good care of these brooms."
"Don't worry, Professor!"
Cedric took the pass and looked at Charlie.
"Charlie, you absolutely must come watch our training."
Cedric's eyes were full of anticipation.
"I promise you, you won't be disappointed."
Charlie nodded: "Alright, I'll be there."
After breakfast.
Charlie slowly walked towards the Quidditch Pitch.
Summer had just passed, bright sunlight spilled onto the grass, and a gentle breeze blew.
Charlie sat in the stands, only to unexpectedly find two familiar figures there.
Hermione was engrossed in a thick book titled 'Quidditch Through the Ages'.
Ron, on the other hand, held a bag of chocolate frogs, eating them while looking out at the pitch.
"Why are you two here too?"
Charlie sat down beside them.
Hermione looked up: "Gryffindor is training today, so we came to watch."
"Gryffindor training? We Hufflepuff are training too."
"Huh?"
The three of them froze, as movement came from the pitch.
Cedric led the Hufflepuff team onto the pitch from one side.
All seven of them held brand new nimbus 2001s, their steps in unison.
But as soon as they entered the pitch, they saw two other teams also coming in.
The Gryffindor team entered from the left, Harry following behind their captain, Wood.
The Slytherin team entered from the right, Draco standing proudly at the very front of his team.
The three teams met in the center of the pitch.
The air instantly solidified.
The three teams glared at each other, sparks flying.
No one was willing to back down.
Wood was the first to speak: "We booked the pitch for today."
Flint sneered: "We booked it too."
Cedric held up the pass in his hand: "I have Professor Sprout's pass."
The three captains simultaneously pulled out their respective passes.
All of them stated permission to use the pitch today.
It was clearly a mix-up.
Draco stepped out from the Slytherin team.
His silver-grey eyes swept over the Gryffindor team, finally settling on Harry.
"Harry Potter."
Draco's voice carried obvious mockery.
"Last term you only relied on a good broom."
"This term my father sponsored seven nimbus 2001s for Slytherin."
He smugly patted the broom in his hand.
"Newer and faster than your Nimbus 2000."
"Guaranteed to make sure you Gryffindor don't get a single point!"
Harry's face turned very grim; this was clearly not good news, as it meant the entire Gryffindor team would be at a disadvantage.
"Charlie sponsors, you sponsor too, you horse manure copycat."
Charlie, Ron, and Hermione came down from the stands, and Ron mocked him.
Charlie's mouth twitched.
This kid insulted two people with one sentence.
Draco glared fiercely at Ron.
"Idiot Weasley, what the hell do you know!"
Hermione also chimed in.
"What's wrong with what Ron said?"
"Harry got on the team based on his skill."
"While you relied on your broom."
These words hit Draco where it hurt.
His face turned crimson, and he opened his mouth to retort.
"Mud..."
But halfway through his sentence, he suddenly realized Charlie was also there.
Draco instantly sobered up.
He remembered using that word to insult Charlie at the start of last term.
He had been thoroughly tormented.
Draco quickly changed his words: "Your mother is quite good, huh."
The Slytherin team members, who had been sneering, looked at Draco in confusion.
No, the mushrooms in the mushroom soup this morning weren't cooked through, were they?
Was Draco poisoned?
Hermione stood still, completely uncomprehending.
But she was polite, blinking her eyes: "It's... it's fine, thank you for your concern."
The atmosphere became extremely awkward.
Charlie looked at the stalemate between the three teams and offered a suggestion.
"How about this?"
"Three teams have a practical training match together?"
Wood frowned: "How can three teams play?"
"Even if we're all on the pitch, there are only two sets of hoops, how do we divide them?"
Charlie shrugged: "If we can't divide them, then don't."
"Just use one set of hoops, whoever scores gets points."
The Hufflepuff team at this point almost worshipped Charlie, so whatever he said went.
Cedric was the first to raise his hand: "I agree!"
The other Hufflepuff team members also nodded in agreement.
Gryffindor was a bit hesitant.
But several members of the team had followed Charlie to fight Lord Voldemort last term, and had even received 10 Galleons from Charlie.
"I think we can give it a try," Harry said.
Wood looked at the expressions of his team members, and finally nodded: "Alright, there's no better way anyway."
Slytherin now followed Draco's lead.
But Draco listened to Charlie.
"However Charlie says to play, that's how we'll play."
Although Flint was somewhat reluctant, since Draco had spoken, he could only agree.
The three teams thus haphazardly started playing a chaotic, unofficial match.
Charlie returned to the stands, pulled out the Fizzing Whizbees he bought at Honeydukes, and watched with relish.
Hermione rolled her eyes, flipping through 'Quidditch Through the Ages': "I've searched through the entire book and haven't found a way to play like this."
"Who cares," Charlie said, sharing his candy with Hermione and Ron.
"As long as it's fun to watch, isn't that enough?"
Ron watched the match with great interest.
"This seems much more exciting than a normal match."
The pitch was already a chaotic mess.
Twenty-one people flew around in the air, the scene extremely disorderly.
On the pitch, Cedric displayed astonishing skill.
He soared through the air on his nimbus 2001, moving at an incredible speed.
With his greater speed and longer reach, Cedric caught the golden snitch a step ahead of Harry.
"Beautiful!" Charlie applauded from the stands.
The Hufflepuff team members cheered excitedly.
The final score was in.
Not counting the 150 points for the golden snitch.
Hufflepuff 180 points, Slytherin 120 points, Gryffindor 80 points.
Gryffindor's brooms were far behind; unless Harry caught the golden snitch, it would be very difficult for them to win.
Cedric really wasn't boasting.
With the entire team having nimbus 2001s, their strength had clearly improved.
Hufflepuff's Quidditch level was no worse than the other two teams, and even more organized.
Although everyone who joins the Quidditch team has talent and interest.
But Hufflepuff often practiced Quidditch first before going back to do homework, dedicating their fullest energy to Quidditch.
If Slytherin and Gryffindor were to do the same, leading to a decline in grades, Professor McGonagalland Professor Snape would show them what cruelty was.
Chapter 99 Ginny's Problem
After the training match, the three teams gathered separately to summarize their gains and losses.
The atmosphere on the Gryffindor side was somewhat heavy; their inferior brooms made today's match exceptionally difficult.
On the Slytherin side, Flint was reprimanding his team members.
"You have the best brooms, and you still lost to Hufflepuff?" His voice was so loud that the entire Quidditch Pitch could hear him.
"It's utterly disgraceful!"
In contrast, Hufflepuff's atmosphere was much better.
Everyone had performed well in the recent match.
Charlie stood up when he saw the match had ended.
"I'm going to Hagrid's," he told Hermione and Ron.
Now, every weekend, Hagrid would have Charlie come to his Hut to check on Norbert and give CharlieNorbert's food for the next week.
To be honest, with Hagrid preparing these things, Charlie saved a lot of worry.
Ron and Hermione were originally going with Harry to Hagrid's, but Harry was still in a meeting, so they went with Charlie first.
The three walked along the path at the edge of the Castle towards Hagrid's Hut.
Ron didn't look to be in a good mood; Gryffindor's defeat also made him very melancholic.
Charlie looked at Ron's expression, feeling a surge of secret satisfaction.
This is how I felt when Hufflepuff lost last semester!
Soon, the three arrived at the door of Hagrid's Hut.
Charlie stepped forward and knocked on the door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
From inside the door came Hagrid's heavy footsteps and some unhappy grumbling.
The door opened, and Hagrid's furry big face peeked out.
Seeing Charlie standing outside, he instantly smiled.
"Oh, it's Charlie!" Hagrid's voice immediately became warm.
"Come in, come in quickly."
He let Charlie and the others into the room, then closed the door again.
The room was warm, and the flames in the fireplace crackled and popped.
But Charlie quickly noticed that there was another person in the room.
Lockhart sat in Hagrid's chair, wearing a purple robe, elegantly sipping tea from a teacup.
Seeing Charlie enter, Lockhart's smile became a bit stiff.
After the autograph session and the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class incident, he felt that Charliehad a certain malevolence about him.
"Oh, student Charlie." Lockhart forced a smile.
"What a coincidence."
Charlie nodded: "Professor Lockhart, good afternoon."
The atmosphere was a bit awkward.
Lockhart cleared his throat, deciding to continue their previous conversation.
"Where were we just now?" He looked at Hagrid.
"Oh, right, you need to learn how to prevent mermaids from getting into wells."
Hagrid's expression was clearly unhappy.
He had been a gamekeeper for so many years; how could he not know these things?
Lockhart continued:
"If you've read my books, you'll certainly know how to deal with problems like mermaids and banshees."
He winked proudly: "I have a knack for dealing with banshees."
Charlie's mind instantly conjured the image of Lockhart dealing with a banshee.
Ugh... a bit disgusting.
Hagrid's face grew even uglier.
"I know how to deal with mermaids," he said gruffly.
"I haven't read your books, and I don't want to."
These words were very direct, completely disregarding Lockhart's feelings.
Lockhart suddenly wanted to leave; this conversation wasn't going anywhere.
"Well... I suddenly remembered I have something to attend to." He stood up and adjusted his purple robe.
"Hagrid, let's talk another day."
With that, he walked towards the door.
As he reached the door, he turned back and added.
"If you need help, feel free to come find me. I'll give you one of my books."
"I'm surprised you haven't read a single one."
After the door closed, the atmosphere in the room instantly relaxed a lot.
Hagrid let out a long sigh.
"Merlin's beard, that fellow is truly annoying," he complained.
"He came here to show off his rotten books."
Ron asked curiously.
"What did he come to you for?"
"He said he wanted to teach me how to deal with magical creatures." Hagrid rolled his eyes.
"When I was raising magical creatures, he was still in diapers."
Hermione was alert: "Raising magical creatures?"
"Cough, cough, you misheard. I meant... Oh, where's Harry? Why don't I see Harry?"
Hagrid awkwardly changed the subject.
"He's still at the Quidditch Pitch."
"Oh, that's such a shame. He won't be able to see the giant pumpkin I've prepared for Halloween with you all."
He hastily stood up, opened the door, and said to Charlie and the other two.
"Come on, come out and see, I guarantee it'll surprise you."
Hermione covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.
What's so strange about Hagrid raising magical creatures? He even wanted to raise a dragon.
She was just teasing Hagrid.
Spending time with a certain person had given her some strange traits.
The three followed Hagrid to the vegetable patch behind the Hut.
The sight before them was very unusual.
Several enormous pumpkins lay on the ground, each as big as a small car.
Their orange-yellow skins shimmered in the sunlight, looking like pumpkin carriages from a fairy tale.
"Oh, my goodness!" Ron's eyes widened.
"These pumpkins are too big!"
Hermione walked around a pumpkin: "Hagrid, how did these pumpkins grow so big?"
Hagrid scratched his messy beard, his eyes a little evasive.
"Hmm... I gave them a little help."
Charlie understood that Hagrid must have used an Engorgement Charm.
"You did a really good job, Hagrid." Ron praised him sincerely.
Hagrid smiled genuinely upon hearing the praise.
"Your little sister said the same thing yesterday; she came to see me yesterday."
Charlie heard Ginny's name and realized that Ginny must still be planning to steal a Rooster.
His expression instantly became serious.
"Hagrid, I was just about to tell you something about Ginny."
Ron looked at Charlie in confusion:
"What could my sister possibly have done?"
"Hagrid, have your Roosters been decreasing lately?"
Hagrid froze for a moment, confusion flashing in his eyes.
"That's right, one Rooster has gone missing." He scratched his head.
"I thought a fox had taken it."
Charlie shook his head: "It wasn't a fox."
"The night school started, I saw Ginny steal a Rooster and then kill it."
As soon as these words were spoken, the scene instantly fell silent.
Ron's face turned white.
"Impossible!" He jumped up excitedly.
"Absolutely impossible!"
"Charlie, you must have seen wrong!" Ron's voice was trembling.
"How could Ginny do such a thing?"
Charlie's expression was serious: "I didn't see wrong, Ron."
"I saw it with my own eyes that night."
Ron's face flushed crimson, even his ears turned red.
"You're talking nonsense, Ginny wouldn't do such a thing!"
Hagrid was also shocked by the news.
He gaped, unable to speak for a long time.
Hermione was also very surprised, but she knew Charlie wouldn't talk nonsense about something like this.
She calmly analyzed the situation.
"Ginny doesn't seem like the type of person to do such a thing."
"Could Ginny be influenced by some Dark Arts object?"
"I've recently read in books that some Dark Arts objects can affect a person's consciousness, causing them to act abnormally."
Charlie nodded.
"It's not impossible, but I don't know Ginny well enough to judge."
He turned to Ron: "Do you think Ginny has been acting abnormally recently?"
Ron was still reeling from the news. Hearing Charlie's question, he answered subconsciously.
"No, not really, she just stays in her room all day and doesn't come out."
"I thought she was shy because Harry was staying at our house."
Charlie's eyes narrowed: "Staying in her room all day? Did she used to do that?"
"No, Ginny has always been very lively; we all like her very much."
"Ron, you need to figure out what Ginny was doing in her room during the holidays."
"If she really is being influenced by a Dark Arts object, that thing is probably in her room."
Ron's face grew increasingly grim.
He began to recall Ginny's behavior during this period.
Indeed, since the start of school, Ginny had become very strange.
The formerly lively and cheerful girl now always hid alone in her room.
She no longer chatted with them, and her whole demeanor was secretive.
Ron felt deeply regretful that he hadn't noticed Ginny's abnormality sooner.
Chapter 100 Harry Hears the Mysterious Voice Again
On the Quidditch Pitch, the Gryffindor team's training continued.
Wood's face was so grim it looked like it would drip water.
Today's match result had completely panicked him.
"Again!" Wood roared, his voice somewhat hoarse.
"What the hell was that just now?"
Harry, riding his broom, felt like his whole body was about to fall apart.
Sweat streamed down his cheeks, and his glasses were fogged up.
Fred and George exchanged glances.
"Wood, only we are still doing extra practice," Fred said, panting.
"If this keeps up, we'll be too exhausted to play, and we'll scare Slytherin as mummies," Georgecomplained.
"You're still joking," Wood glared.
"Do you know that Slytherin and Hufflepuff both have nimbus 2001 now?"
"Our brooms are far worse than theirs; how can we not work twice as hard?"
Harry wanted to say something, but he was too tired, he didn't even have the strength to open his mouth.
He was supposed to go to Hagrid's, but Wood had dragged him along, making it impossible to leave.
Just then, the bell for dinner rang in the distance.
"Alright," Wood reluctantly looked at the sky.
"That's enough for today."
"But we'll continue tomorrow after class."
The team members breathed a sigh of relief, landing on the ground one by one.
Harry wobbled off his broom, his legs feeling weak.
Fred patted Harry's shoulder.
"Hang in there, Wood has gone crazy wanting the Quidditch Cup."
"He's treating us like livestock," George also grumbled indignantly.
The group, dragging their tired bodies, walked towards the Castle.
In the Great Hall, dinner had already begun.
Harry, with heavy steps, walked to the Gryffindor long table and plopped down.
He buried his head and started eating, not even wanting to speak.
Just then, Professor McGonagall walked over, bringing even worse news.
"Harry, you have detention with Professor Lockhart tonight at half past eight."
"Ron, you report to Mr. Filch."
"Don't forget, this is your punishment for your antics at the start of term."
Harry's mood instantly worsened.
Training was already exhausting enough, and now he had to face Lockhart's torment.
Ron sat beside him, poking at the mashed potatoes on his plate, preoccupied.
Ever since he heard about Ginny that afternoon, he had been restless.
Hermione also had no appetite; she was thinking about the Dark Arts objects Ginny might have encountered.
The three of them were silent, the atmosphere intensely oppressive.
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, wanting to ask what had happened that afternoon, but he was simply too tired.
Never mind, he'd ask after detention.
At half past eight, Harry, dragging his weary body, arrived at Lockhart's office.
He knocked on the door, and Lockhart's flamboyant voice came from inside: "Come in!"
Harry pushed the door open.
Lockhart's office was lavishly decorated, with his photographs covering the walls.
Lockhart in every photo was winking at Harry.
"Ah, Harry!" Lockhart greeted him warmly.
"Come in, sit down."
On the desk was a stack of letters, all from fans.
"Tonight's task is simple," Lockhart said, pointing at the letters, as if Harry had received a great boon.
"Help me reply to these fan letters."
"Oh, sometimes fervent fans can be a nuisance."
Harry saw no sign of him being troubled; he was clearly enjoying it.
He sat down helplessly, picked up a quill, and began to work.
Lockhart sat beside him, endlessly recounting his heroic deeds.
Harry replied to letters while being tormented by Lockhart.
Fatigue made his eyelids heavier and heavier.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, a cold, malicious voice suddenly came.
"I... will tear... tear you apart..."
The voice was eerie and terrifying, full of malice, sending shivers down his spine.
Harry woke up with a start, all the hairs on his body standing on end.
He looked around, searching for the source of the sound.
"Hungry... kill you..."
The voice continued, but it seemed to be fading away.
Harry's face instantly turned pale.
"Professor!" Harry quickly turned to Lockhart.
"Did you hear that?"
Lockhart stopped his lengthy monologue, looking at Harry in confusion.
"Hear what?"
"That voice just now!" Harry said anxiously.
Lockhart frowned, listening carefully.
There was nothing in the office except the crackling of the fireplace.
"Harry, I didn't hear anything," Lockhart said, bewildered.
"Are you too tired?"
"Are you hallucinating?"
Harry was certain it wasn't a hallucination; he still heard the voice after he woke up.
Lockhart walked over and reached out to touch Harry's forehead.
"You might be too sleepy, your brain is playing tricks on you."
"I suggest you go back and get a good night's rest."
"You should be fine tomorrow."
Harry still wanted to argue, but Lockhart had already started tidying up the letters on his desk.
"That's enough for tonight," Lockhart said.
"You really need to rest."
Harry stood up helplessly, filled with confusion and unease.
Back in the Gryffindor dormitory, Ron had also finished his detention and was lying on his bed, but clearly not asleep.
"Harry," Ron sat up when he heard the movement.
"How was it with Lockhart?"
Harry sat on the edge of his bed, taking off his robes.
"Ron, I encountered something very strange."
"What is it?" Ron immediately perked up.
Harry told Ron in detail about the voice he had just heard.
After listening, Ron's expression also became serious.
"Only you heard the voice?" Ron said thoughtfully.
"That reminds me of what happened last term."
Harry remembered.
At the end of last term, he heard a voice say it wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but Ron and Hermione hadn't heard it.
And the voice that time had come from the snake possessed by Lord Voldemort.
Chapter 101 Testing Ginny
Ron looked at Harry seriously.
"Harry, I also have something I want to tell you."
"What is it?"
Ron recounted everything he had heard from Hagrid that afternoon.
Harry sat up abruptly.
"What? Ginny? No way!"
"I didn't believe it at first either," Ron said, a little nervous.
"But Charlie wouldn't lie about something like this."
"And Hermione said it might be that Ginny was affected by some Dark Arts object."
Harry's heart began to pound.
Seamus groggily lifted his head: "What are you guys talking about? Aren't you sleeping yet?"
"Nothing, go back to sleep," Ron whispered.
He didn't want too many people to know about this; it wouldn't be good for Ginny.
Once Seamus lay back down, Ron leaned closer to Harry and whispered:
"Harry, I have to figure out what's wrong with Ginny."
"Can you help me?"
Harry nodded without hesitation.
"Of course."
"Charlie said Ginny goes out at night," a flicker of determination crossed Ron's eyes.
"We can wait in the common room and see where she goes."
After they had planned everything, Harry took out his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk.
He had lost his Invisibility Cloak last semester, but it was returned not long after, and Harry guessed Dumbledore had sent it to him.
"Let's go."
The two put on the Invisibility Cloak and tiptoed out of the dormitory.
The Gryffindor common room was pitch black, with only the embers in the fireplace still faintly glowing.
They found a corner to sit in and waited quietly.
Time passed by minute by minute.
Harry felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier.
Just then, a faint sound of footsteps came from the girls' dormitory stairs.
Ron immediately perked up and nudged Harry with his elbow.
A slender figure descended the stairs.
Moonlight streamed through the window onto her; it was Ginny.
She was wearing a nightgown, barefoot, her face indistinct in the shadows.
He wanted to rush over but was held back by Harry.
"Wait," Harry whispered in his ear.
"Let's see where she's going."
Ginny walked straight towards the fat lady's portrait, which was the entrance to the common room.
Harry suddenly pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.
"Ginny!"
Ginny turned calmly, as if nothing had happened.
"Harry? Ron?" Her voice sounded normal.
"What are you two doing here?"
Ron stepped forward, asking somewhat excitedly.
"Ginny, where are you going in the middle of the night?"
Ginny blinked, an innocent expression on her face.
"I'm hungry, I wanted to get something to eat."
Her expression was flawless, and her tone was natural.
Ron and Harry exchanged glances.
Could Charlie have been wrong?
Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Then go to the kitchen and get something to eat."
"Remember? I told you where it was."
Ron looked at Harry in confusion.
Brother, what kitchen? Why didn't you tell me?
Ginny paused, then nodded.
"I remember, I was just about to go there."
A glint flashed in Harry's eyes.
"I never told Ginny where the kitchen was!" he shouted.
"You're not Ginny!"
Ron rushed forward in anger.
"Let go of my sister!"
But Ginny, or rather Tom Riddle, moved with unusual agility.
He dodged Ron with a swift movement and then quickly ran towards the portrait hole.
Tom's face was grim; he hadn't expected to be outsmarted by a child.
Now that he was exposed, the Gryffindor dormitory was no longer safe, and he needed to find a new target.
"Stop!" Harry and Ron chased after him simultaneously.
But Ginny's speed was astonishing, completely unlike an eleven-year-old girl.
She flew down the corridor, her footsteps as light as a cat's.
Harry and Ron chased desperately, but the distance between them grew wider and wider.
"Damn it!" Ron panted.
"How can she run so fast?"
By the time they reached the third floor, Ginny's figure had already vanished at the end of the corridor.
"Lost her," Harry stopped, gasping for breath.
Ron stubbornly kept going, wanting to find Ginny.
Harry caught his breath and followed him... Tom, controlling Ginny's body, hurried through the corridor.
His face was terrifyingly grim.
Over a month of careful planning, over a month of consciousness erosion, ruined by two brats.
Damn Harry Potter!
Tom gritted his teeth.
It had taken him a whole month to fully infiltrate the consciousness of this Weasley girl, and now he could manipulate her body at will.
But tonight's accident had rendered all his efforts futile.
Since he was exposed, he had to change targets.
Tom pondered in his mind.
Among the four houses, his favorite was, of course, Slytherin.
He controlled Ginny's body and headed straight for the dungeon.
The entrance to the Slytherin common room was hidden deep within the dungeons.
Tom, familiar with the route, found the stone door.
The entrance was deserted.
Tom looked around, confirming no one was present, then pulled out the black notebook from Ginny's nightgown.
He gently placed the notebook in the shadows of a corner by the door.
The position was clever; it wouldn't be stepped on, yet it was conspicuous enough that it would surely be discovered by passing Slytherin students in the morning.
"Soon there will be a new host."
A cold smile played on Tom's lips.
For him, Slytherin students were easier to control than Gryffindors.
Because Tom understood Slytherin; they inherently craved power.
After placing the notebook, Tom's control over Ginny's body began to loosen.
Ginny's eyes gradually became confused, and she stumbled, dazed, back the way she came.
Her steps were unsteady, her eyes vacant, completely unaware of where she was.
As she walked back to the first floor, hurried footsteps came from the stairs.
Harry and Ron, panting, rushed down the stairs, colliding directly with Ginny.
"Give Ginny back!!!"
Ron lunged forward, grabbed his sister's shoulders with both hands, and shook her violently.
Ginny was instantly shaken awake.
"Stop, stop, stop! I'm going to throw up!"
She looked at Ron, utterly bewildered.
Who can understand, she was sleeping soundly in her dorm, then suddenly her brother pulled her up and shook her.
"Ron, what are you doing here? This is the girls' dorm..."
Before she could finish, Ginny looked around, realizing she wasn't in her dorm, her face filled with confusion.
"How did I get here?"
Ron's heart pounded.
"Are you Ginny?"
"Do you remember what just happened?"
Ginny shook her head vigorously, her red hair flying.
"I don't remember anything. I was clearly sleeping in my dorm, how could I..."
Her voice trailed off, her eyes filled with fear.
Harry stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Ginny seriously.
"You really don't remember anything?"
"I swear!" Ginny's voice trembled slightly.
"I just remember lying in bed, and then... then I didn't know anything."
Chapter 102 The Diary Finds a New Host
"Ginny, have you encountered anything strange recently?" Ron asked worriedly.
Ginny was also very scared at this moment, so she no longer concealed it.
"There's a diary."
"What diary?"
"A black diary. When I write in it, it responds to me. I found it very interesting, so I often chatted with it."
Ron and Harry exchanged glances.
Sister, how dare you touch such a creepy thing?
"And then?"
"Then I started having some strange dreams."
"In my dreams, I walked around the school, but I don't remember what I was doing."
"Sometimes I would wake up and find bloodstains on my hands, but I don't know where they came from."
Harry was almost certain that the diary was behind it.
"Ginny, where is that diary now?"
Ginny also said, with a lingering fear,
"I put it in the drawer of my bedside table."
The three immediately ran towards Gryffindor Tower.
Upon returning to the common room, Ginny hastily ran up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Harry and Ron waited anxiously below.
A few minutes later, Ginny came downstairs, her face terrifyingly pale.
"It's gone."
Her voice trembled.
"The diary is gone."
Ron and Harry exchanged a look.
This was big trouble now.
That dangerous Dark Arts item might have moved elsewhere.
Early the next morning.
Charlie was leisurely eating breakfast, with a large plate of bacon and fried eggs in front of him.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked over.
"Charlie," Harry said, sitting down next to him.
"Something happened last night that we need to tell you about."
Charlie put down his fork and looked at the three.
"What is it? Judging by your expressions, it can't be good news."
Harry told Charlie in detail about what happened last night.
After listening, Charlie's expression became serious.
With that thing now missing, the danger level was even higher than when it was with Ginny.
At least with Ginny, precautions could be taken.
Hermione's face was also solemn; she had just heard about this from Harry and Ron.
Hermione was silent for a moment before speaking: "We should tell the Professors."
Ron hesitated a little.
"But... if we tell the Professor, will Ginny be expelled?"
"After all, she was the one who brought that thing into the school."
Charlie shook his head.
"Ron, Ginny didn't know; she's also a victim."
"And right now, the most important thing is to find that thing."
"If we don't report it in time, even we might be affected."
Harry also nodded in agreement.
"Charlie is right; the Professor should know about this."
Ron took a deep breath and finally nodded.
"Alright, let's go find Professor McGonagall."
...The stone door of the Slytherin common room slowly opened.
Goyle and Crabbe walked out, ready to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Goyle yawned as he walked, not paying attention to where he was going.
Suddenly, his peripheral vision caught sight of a black object.
"This is..."
Tom was extremely excited inside the diary.
Finally, a Slytherin student had found him!
And one who looked not very bright; such people were the easiest to trick.
Tom had already begun to devise how to tempt this simple-minded brute.
But then, Goyle walked up to the diary and kicked it away.
"What is this piece of junk? It's dirty and old. Who threw it here?"
The diary slid far across the floor and hit the corner.
"Come on, let's go to the Great Hall quickly; the freshly fried bacon smells good."
Crabbe didn't even glance at it, and the two strode quickly towards the Great Hall.
Tom in the corner was so angry he almost exploded on the spot.
These two idiots!
Tom wished he could jump out of the diary right away and give those two Trolls an Avada Kedavra.
The diary was kicked into the corner, making it even harder for passing little snakes to see it.
And those who did see it were generally not interested in it.
Most Slytherins were pure-blood and came from wealthy families.
How could they be interested in something lying on the ground that no one wanted?
Once such an atmosphere formed, even those who might have been interested would not pick it up.
Because they would be ridiculed by those who saw them.
In Slytherin, being ridiculed was a very terrifying thing.
Time slowly passed.
After Potion Class in the afternoon, Draco Malfoy walked at the front of the line.
Goyle and Crabbe followed behind him, the two big boys panting.
"Professor Snape seems to be in a bad mood today," Goyle said foolishly.
Crabbe wanted to say that Professor Snape seemed to be in a bad mood every day, but he didn't dare.
"Because we lost our Quidditch practice yesterday," Draco snorted coldly.
"Just wait, with me joining, the Quidditch Cup will definitely be ours."
Goyle asked doubtfully, "Weren't you there yesterday?"
Draco gritted his teeth: "What do you know! I just joined yesterday and didn't coordinate well with my teammates."
"Oh."
Goyle lowered his head sullenly, then caught sight of the diary that had been kicked away in the morning.
"That broken diary is still there."
Draco followed his gaze.
A black cover, simple binding; it looked unremarkable.
But Draco's pupils slightly contracted.
This diary... He remembered the safe in his father's study.
Inside were several Dark Arts items, including an identical black diary.
His father had warned him that those things were very dangerous and he should never touch them.
But now, an almost identical diary lay here.
Draco's heart rate quickened.
"Draco?" Crabbe looked at him in confusion.
Draco didn't answer and walked straight to the corner.
He certainly didn't need to care if others would ridicule him.
The House of Malfoy was one of the biggest powers in Slytherin; who would dare to mock him?
Draco bent down and picked up the diary.
The cover felt smooth, but there was a strange warmth to it.
It wasn't the feel of ordinary leather, but more like... the skin of a living thing.
He opened the first page.
There was nothing on the blank parchment.
Draco frowned and continued to flip through. Every page was blank, without any text or patterns.
Just as he was about to close the diary, a line of text suddenly appeared on the first page:
"Hello."
Draco's hand trembled violently, almost dropping the diary.
The handwriting was dark green, with smooth, elegant strokes, possessing a classical aesthetic.
But even more eerie was that these words appeared out of thin air, with no one writing them.
Draco immediately closed the diary and clutched it tightly to his chest.
His eyes gleamed with a complex light.
Excitement, fear, curiosity, and a hint of imperceptible greed.
This was definitely no ordinary diary.
Chapter 103 Malfoy is hacked
Draco returned to the Slytherin dormitory, his heart still beating a little fast.
He hid the diary in the innermost drawer of his bedside table and, after confirming his roommates were not present, carefully took it out.
Draco picked up his quill and cautiously wrote on the first page.
"Who are you?"
The ink had barely touched the paper when it was rapidly absorbed.
Draco's eyes widened as he watched his handwriting disappear without a trace.
A few seconds later, florid, dark green letters appeared.
"Tom Gaunt."
Draco's pupils suddenly constricted.
Gaunt? The ancient Pure-blood Families descended from Slytherin?
Although the Gaunt family couldn't find a single descendant now, in Pure-blood circles, this surname still represented noble lineage.
Tom sneered inwardly in the diary.
He understood Slytherin well; if he used a Muggle surname, it would be difficult to gain respect.
But as long as he used a Pure-blood Families surname, they would naturally feel close to him.
"What is your name?" New handwriting appeared on the paper.
Draco held the quill, cautiously refraining from answering.
He knew that some Dark Arts objects, once they knew a true name, could harm the owner of that name.
Seeing Draco's prolonged silence, Tom continued to write:
"Don't be nervous; you must be from Slytherin House, right?"
"I can sense that you must be a prominent figure at Hogwarts."
When Draco saw this line, his vanity was satisfied.
He proudly wrote:
"That's right, I'm a second-year student in Slytherin."
"I'm also the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team!"
Tom was utterly speechless at this answer.
He thought he would say something extraordinary; what kind of achievement was being a Seeker?
"I was also created by a student from Slytherin House, though many years ago," Tom continued to coax.
"The most outstanding student in Hogwarts history created me to help students learn knowledge."
Draco showed a disdainful expression when he saw this line.
"Most outstanding?" he wrote on the paper.
"Could he be as outstanding as Charlie?"
Tom was stunned for a moment.
Charlie? Which Charlie?
"Perhaps Charlie is the most outstanding student you've met," Tom cautiously replied.
"But child, Hogwarts's history is full of geniuses; there are plenty who are even more outstanding."
Draco didn't believe anyone was more outstanding than Charlie.
"Could you single-handedly defeat a Troll when you first started school?"
The diary remained silent for a moment; no new handwriting appeared.
Draco continued to write: "Could you defeat the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor in your first year?"
The diary remained silent.
"Could you become a Potions Master and receive an order of merlin, second class in your first year?"
Tom's silence was deafening.
Draco pouted; if he couldn't do any of that, how could he be the most outstanding?
Braggart.
Tom in the diary fell into deep self-doubt.
Are Hogwarts students so abnormal now?
Or is this brat playing with me?
After a long time, Tom finally wrote on the paper.
"The Charlie you mentioned is indeed outstanding."
"But if you want to become like him, I can help you."
A hint of suspicion flashed in Draco's eyes when he saw this sentence.
"How can you help me?"
"Knowledge," Tom replied.
"I can teach you a lot of magic you won't learn in class."
"Such as?"
"Advanced Transfiguration techniques, secret Potions recipes, and some... special spells."
Draco's heart began to race.
As the heir of the House of Malfoy, he naturally yearned to become stronger.
Especially after witnessing Charlie's power, he was even more eager to improve himself.
"Then you answer a few questions for me first," Draco wrote.
Draco wrote more than a dozen questions consecutively in the diary, all about things he didn't understand.
The diary perfectly answered all his doubts.
Some answers were even more detailed than those in textbooks.
These contents were effortless for Tom.
Only then did Draco believe that the diary truly had real abilities.
Although he still remained wary of this mysterious Tom Gaunt, he had begun to believe what the other party said.
"Alright," Draco wrote.
"I can learn from you, but I have conditions."
"What conditions?"
"First, you are not allowed to ask my real name."
"Second, you are not allowed to force me to do anything."
"Third, if I feel something is wrong, I can stop at any time."
Tom sneered in his heart when he saw these conditions.
He was quite cautious, but this caution seemed particularly ridiculous to him.
To control the other party, he only needed to spend enough time with them, completely infiltrating his consciousness into their body.
He wasn't afraid of his caution, only that he wouldn't even open the book.
"Of course," Tom replied.
"I just want to help a talented young Wizard."
Time flew by, and soon it was Halloween.
After Harry told Professor McGonagall about the diary, all of Hogwarts became tense.
Professor McGonagall's face was serious, and she immediately organized the prefects from each house to conduct a search of the campus.
The prefects worked in groups, leaving no corner unchecked, from dormitories to classrooms, from the library to the dungeons.
Percy held a checklist, carefully inspecting every suspicious item.
But unfortunately, nothing was found.
It was normal to think so; if it were easily discovered, why would Mr. Weasley allow the diary to stay with Ginny for so long?
The diary could clearly hide the scent of Dark Arts on it.
Draco also received Professor McGonagall's notice.
But he had no intention of handing over this diary.
Slytherin students naturally crave power and success.
As long as they are given enough temptation, they will voluntarily walk into the trap.
Moreover, having seen Dark Arts objects frequently at home since childhood made him feel that the Professor was just making a fuss over nothing.
During this time, Draco made a splash in class through the diary.
Draco enjoyed the envious gazes of his classmates and the praise of the Professors.
This feeling was too wonderful, making it impossible for him to give up the diary.
On Halloween, Draco once again took out the diary.
"Tonight, I have a special task for you." Tom's handwriting appeared on the paper.
"What task?" Draco wrote.
"Go to the girls' lavatory on the second floor; there's a secret waiting for you to discover there."
Draco hesitated.
"Girls' lavatory? That's not quite appropriate, is it?"
"Trust me, one of Hogwarts's biggest secrets is hidden there," Tom continued to tempt.
"If you want to become stronger, you must go there."
Draco's reason told him not to go, but his inner greed overcame his reason.
The girls' lavatory on the second floor had been abandoned for a long time; there was no one there.
Draco nervously looked around.
"What do we do now?" Draco whispered.
Tom's consciousness began to invade his brain.
Draco felt a dizzy spell, and the world before his eyes began to blur.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer himself.
Tom controlled Draco's body and walked straight to the sink.
His gaze fixed on a special faucet, which had a small snake carved on it.
Tom took a deep breath and hissed:
"Open."