Chapter 194: Draco: A Club?
Draco Malfoy's life had become quite difficult recently.
Actually, the signs of this had begun last semester—
Ever since he tried to ambush Wade Gray of Ravenclaw with his cronies, only to be nearly scared to tears by a swarm of insects, some people had become less willing to humor him.
By this semester, Malfoy felt he hadn't done anything wrong, yet his friends were leaving him one by one. Even those two idiots, Crabbe and Goyle, had started openly defying him.
The Quidditch team was once tolerable because his father had donated a batch of brooms, so everyone else was sucking up to him.
But as a Seeker, he had lost the match against Gryffindor. Especially since… the Golden Snitch was right beside him, and he did nothing, allowing Harry Potter to seize the opportunity to catch it.
Malfoy felt wronged.
It was because Potter cunningly pretended to ram him off his broom, distracting him, which was why he didn't notice where the Golden Snitch went.
But his teammates didn't accept his explanation. Flint even mockingly said, "That Golden Snitch practically shoved itself under your nose. What else did it need to do for you to notice it?"
Montague, Derrick, and others all burst into laughter.
Derrick said, "A good Seeker needs not only a good broom but also a good pair of eyes, right, Draco?"
Malfoy used to think that Harry Potter was probably the most annoying person in the world because he had scorned Malfoy's overtures of friendship and even mocked him.
But when he truly faced the malice of others, he realized those previous conflicts were nothing.
Malfoy slammed his book shut, the pages emitting a sound similar to a shriek. The words "Most Poisonous Magic" on the cover slowly turned red, even seeping blood.
He habitually wiped off the blood clinging to his fingertips, no longer screaming in disgust like the first time.
"So, you've got the wrong target."
He said to the person beside him, "It's true I used to hate Potter. But now, compared to Potter, I'd rather Crabbe and Goyle learn a lesson."
Behind him was Dobby the House-elf.
The House-elf wore a tattered, dirty pillowcase, its large ears looked as if they had just been scalded, and there were scars on its forehead and thin arms.
Dobby bent down and said in a high-pitched voice, "Dobby didn't know Young Master Malfoy was unhappy Dobby attacked Harry Potter. Master sent Dobby to help Young Master Malfoy."
"Hmph," Malfoy said unhappily. "If Father really wants to help me, he should take back the brooms he sponsored the team with!"
Dobby blinked his tennis-ball-sized eyes and said pitifully, "Master thinks that cannot be done. Master believes it would damage the Malfoy Family's image."
"Forget it, I've already had my revenge anyway!"
Malfoy patted Most Poisonous Magic with a hint of triumph and declared loudly, "See? I just learned a couple of spells and made those guys run in circles! They still don't understand what's going on!"
He pushed the photos of the other occupants of the dormitory off the table, stomped on them a few times, adjusted his collar, and cast a disdainful glance at the bowed House-elf.
"I should go visit my injured roommates! You clean this place up, don't run out and get discovered, and don't let me see you!"
Malfoy put away his Wand, hid his Magic Books, then slammed the door shut and left.
Walking into the Common Room, Malfoy's expression darkened as soon as he saw the others.
He walked through the doorway in silence, heading towards the Hospital Wing.
All his roommates had been sent there today. Crabbe and Goyle had attacked others, but they didn't know the Shield Charm, and the retaliating Spells had left them battered and bleeding.
Thinking of their miserable state, Malfoy's recent feeling of being ostracized finally improved a little.
...
In the dormitory, Dobby watched Malfoy leave, almost eagerly approaching the door and reaching for the handle.
Then, his hand trembled.
Don't run out!
Malfoy's casual words were an unbreakable command to him.
Dobby abruptly pulled his hand back, then immediately slammed his head against the wall!
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Trying to disobey Master's orders! Bad Dobby!"
After hitting his head a few times, he seemed to feel better. With a buzzing head, he swayed and turned to start tidying up.
A few photos were restored to their original state and put back in their previous positions, followed by the damaged curtains, bedsheets, pillows, wardrobe...
There was no one else in the dormitory today. Malfoy had thoroughly vented his suppressed anger, leaving the dormitory in a terrible state.
Fortunately, he hadn't used Dark Magic in this place, so cleaning it up wasn't too difficult for Dobby.
Dobby finished his work in no time. He clutched his rumbling stomach, glanced at the snacks on the table, but ultimately dared not steal any.
Malfoy hadn't intentionally starved him.
It was just that the young master had never considered providing food for his slave; at home, he never had to think about such trivial matters.
Previously, Dobby had stolen Khat from the Malfoy family's storeroom, failing to cover his tracks, which revealed that he was the one who attacked Harry Potter in the maze.
Of course, no one would have thought that Dobby did this to protect the victim who almost died.
Malfoy and his father naturally believed that Dobby must have heard Draco complaining to his parents multiple times about Potter and his friends during the summer, and thus, on his own initiative, went to seek revenge for his master.
Lucius Malfoy punished him for his unauthorized actions, but both Malfoys considered Dobby to be extremely loyal and proactive.
Afterward, young Malfoy complained to his father that the students at school were bullying him, so Lucius Malfoy sent Dobby to the school to protect his son.
As a Hogwarts school governor, Lucius could have his House-elf bypass the school's protective magic and enter the castle, which was like an impenetrable fortress.
However, since arriving at Hogwarts, Dobby's movements had been severely restricted.
This was because his master had ordered him not to leave without permission and to return immediately after any errands, ensuring he wasn't seen by anyone or any other House-elf.
Additionally, Malfoy had ordered the castle's House-elves not to enter his dormitory or touch any of his personal belongings.
Dobby, naturally, was considered "personal property."
Dobby handled all the dormitory cleaning, and no one else noticed a thing.
The castle's elves would certainly notice the difference, but Lucius had told him that House-elves wouldn't report such minor changes to the school administration.
They were tools of the castle, whose only duties were cleaning, preparing food, and obeying orders.
They had no authority to "eavesdrop, monitor students, or maintain school order."
Although Draco was hiding Dobby, he wasn't particularly worried.
Looking at everyone, including the professors, who were completely oblivious, he even felt a subtle sense of superiority.
"What's the point of all those school rules?" Draco thought smugly. "The school is practically defenseless if I want it to be… and those professors are all fools!"
He had no idea that among the castle's silly, eager-to-please House-elves, there was more than one who actively wanted to "do something."
...
"The student didn't let Mikey clean the dormitory, but Mikey heard it."
Mikey showed off his large ears, saying, "Mikey's hearing is the best; he can hear very far."
"Thank you, Mikey," Wade said. "I'll find a way to meet that House-elf."
"Wade Gray must be careful," Mikey said seriously. "That elf is very powerful... more powerful than Mikey."
"I'll be careful." Wade thought for a moment, then asked, "Mikey, among the castle's House-elves, who is the most powerful?"
"Ralph, of course," Mikey said.
"Ralph?"
"He's over 160 years old. He's the oldest and the strongest."
Mikey explained, "He tells us what to do."
Wade understood.
That Ralph must be the manager of all the House-elves?
Assigning tasks to the elves, and perhaps even responsible for teaching them.
Over 160 years old... older than Dumbledore...
Although House-elves could live up to two hundred years, in reality, not many elves lived that long.
Some elves, when they got old, were deemed unable to provide quality service by their masters, who would then order them to end their lives prematurely.
For example, the Black Family once did this.
Most elves had their lifespans and magical power affected because they weren't treated well from birth.
Wade was very interested in talking to the 160-year-old Ralph.
That House-elf must have witnessed many stories worthy of becoming history.
...
The next day, the news of the Slytherin inter-house brawl spread throughout the school.
Everyone was surprised because Slytherin was known for its unity, perhaps second only to Hufflepuff, while Gryffindor and Ravenclaw often had internal conflicts.
Of course, this wasn't because the young Slytherins were all unified and friendly, but because they were good at "keeping things under wraps"—even if they fought fiercely in the Common Room, they wouldn't show it outside the house.
This gave people the impression that Slytherin always acted in unison.
Now, hearing about such a strange occurrence, students from the other three houses couldn't contain their curiosity.
They flocked to the Hospital Wing in groups, some claiming headaches, others coughs, some saying they had insomnia last night, and some reporting recent anxiety. Their true purpose was to catch a glimpse of the Slytherins lying in the beds.
Most of the second-year Slytherin boys were in there, and two first-years were also affected.
Outside the ward, the Gryffindors were laughing loudly, even as they claimed to be dizzy.
As the chaotic crowd came and went, the Slytherins looked very upset.
They had all drawn the curtains around their beds, but the Gryffindors seemed to enjoy themselves even observing the fabric.
After class, Malfoy came to visit his dormmates again, planning to derive some amusement from their misery.
But before he even reached the ward door, he encountered a few Gryffindors walking by with their arms around each other's shoulders, laughing heartily. Malfoy's face darkened.
Then, he stood a short distance away, watching the students who had made excuses to "visit" the Hospital Wing until they were all chased away by a fed-up Madam Pomfrey.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder.
"See that, Draco?"
"Why do you think we Slytherins need to stick together?" Foley, a sixth-year, murmured. "Because if we're divided, our enemies will just laugh at us from above. No one will sympathize, and no one will offer a helping hand."
"What do you mean?" Malfoy frowned.
Yaxley, standing nearby, said with a cold expression, "When you hurt your own comrades, you might think you're getting a brief, satisfying taste of revenge."
Foley continued, "But when you look back, you'll realize you're also one of those being mocked and despised."
"Because you're a Slytherin."
"Because we're Slytherins."
"Admit it, Draco. Being from Slytherin is a cardinal sin in many people's eyes!"
"The Sorting Hat made the choice for us, but in our seven years at school, and in our future lives, no one will speak up about the injustices we face."
"Haven't you heard the saying, 'Slytherins are born villains'?"
"To restore Slytherin's honor, to restore the glory of Pure-blood Wizards, we absolutely cannot bicker and fight among ourselves. We must unite and fight for the rights we deserve!"
Foley and a few students beside him spoke one after another, and Malfoy forgot what he had intended to say. His mind wavered with their words, and finally, he couldn't help but ask,
"So, what should we do?"
The others exchanged glances, and someone smiled and nodded.
"Come with me, Draco."
Foley put an arm around Malfoy's shoulder and said as they walked, "To cope with this cruel reality, those of us who share the same ideals have formed a club. I think perhaps you'd be willing to join…"
The two spoke in hushed tones, then walked off, surrounded by other Slytherin students.
The corridor instantly became empty.
Then, a figure gradually emerged, as if a magical eraser had rubbed him into existence on the wall.
Wade frowned slightly, watching the Slytherins disappear around the corner.
"Alright…"
He said to himself.
"You've only read one set of novels. There's no way you could know everything in this world."
The good news was that since Malfoy had been taken to some club, he shouldn't return to the dormitory anytime soon, making it the perfect time for Wade to see Dobby.
Thinking this, Wade walked along the corridor for a while, then suddenly said, "Mikey?"
A small figure suddenly appeared from behind a pillar beside him. Mikey poked his head out, whispering, "I'm here, Wade Gray."
"Could you please listen to what they said for me?" Wade asked. "This isn't an order… If it makes you uncomfortable, then never mind."
Mikey softly asked, "Is Wade Gray worried they'll do something bad?"
Wade said, "How were the first Death Eaters recruited by Voldemort?"
The mention of that name made Mikey shiver, then he bowed.
"Mikey understands, Wade Gray."
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