The sun rose and set; the moon, once full and bright, slowly transformed into a crescent, as if someone had taken a bite out of a pie; and the stars arranged themselves in orderly patterns across the night sky...
Most students at Hogwarts hardly noticed these celestial changes, even after their weekly Astronomy lessons.
But "hardly anyone" doesn't mean "no one."
Some young wizards, making their way back to their dormitories from the library at night, would occasionally glance up at the luminous moon or the twinkling stars, marveling at the beauty of the heavens.
And then there were the troublemakers—those who slipped out after curfew, standing alone beneath the vast sky, lost in thought about the immensity of the universe and the smallness of their own existence.
It was Friday at midnight—technically, the earliest hours of Saturday.
Draco Malfoy was just such a boy, sitting under a grand oak tree, staring blankly at the stars.
He fancied himself the only person at Hogwarts looking at the sky right now. After all, Filch, the caretaker, was probably too busy prowling the dark corridors to care about the stars—his eyes glued to every shadow, desperate to catch a student breaking the rules and dock points from their House.
Oh, Filch is out looking for someone like me, and I've already slipped away. Malfoy smirked at the thought.
He'd been waiting like this for a week now, and was beginning to think it was time to give up on this fruitless vigil.
It was impossible not to feel a little resentful toward that mysterious stranger—but deep down, he knew he was probably nothing more than a passing amusement for the man, someone to tease and then forget.
A whole week spent waiting, and all he'd learned was that he was weak, helpless, and utterly insignificant.
I guess this means I'll just have to let Harry Potter bully me at Hogwarts from now on. Malfoy reached this rather pitiful conclusion.
After a week of stewing, he found himself oddly resigned—no longer as desperate to run away as he'd been a few days ago.
"Does this count as growing up?" Malfoy scratched his chin, muttering uncertainly.
No one replied. Only the wind answered, and the rustling of leaves.
Leaves?
"Hm?"
A puzzled sound escaped him.
He watched as the fallen leaves beneath the oak began to swirl and spin, as if caught in a tiny tornado.
The spinning leaves drifted a short distance away, whirling faster and faster until they formed a shadowy mass.
Before his eyes, that shadow took on the shape of a person.
The whirlwind died down. Leaves fluttered to the ground, and a tall figure stood where the storm had been.
Malfoy gawked for a moment before rubbing his eyes hard. Under the starlight, he could just make out the newcomer: a figure clad in a black, hooded robe, a black metal mask obscuring their face and age.
It's him?! The mysterious stranger?!
Malfoy's eyes widened. He jumped to his feet, ready to speak.
But the stranger spoke first. "Not bad. You've passed the test."
"Test?" Malfoy echoed, a mix of confusion and excitement in his voice.
He didn't know what the test was, but if he'd guessed right, passing meant a reward.
Sure enough, the stranger nodded. "Yes. This was a test of your patience. You're still here, waiting for me. I'm satisfied, so I'll keep my promise."
His promise—to make me stronger. Strong enough that not even Harry Potter, not even Qin Yu, could bully me!
So he's really going to deliver?
A week of waiting hadn't been in vain!
Malfoy's heart soared, and he couldn't hide his elation. A smile broke across his face as he blurted, "You can really make me stronger? What do I have to do?"
"Of course. As long as you have the determination—and you're truly ready for what it means to grow stronger," the stranger replied coolly.
"I do! I have determination! I'm ready!" Malfoy nodded so hard his hair nearly flopped over his eyes.
But as soon as he said it, a flicker of unease crept in.
After all, in the wizarding world, shortcuts to power were often dark and dangerous.
And as a pure-blood heir of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, could he really walk the path of darkness?
He wrestled with himself.
Whump!
Something heavy landed at his feet, sending up a puff of grass and dead leaves.
"This is for you," the stranger said, voice calm.
"Thank you! Thank you!" Malfoy stammered, rushing forward to scoop up the object—a thick, ancient book bound in parchment, surprisingly weighty in his arms.
This must be a tome of forbidden magic, he thought, heart pounding.
By starlight, he squinted at the cover, only to make out a very peculiar title: A Complete Guide to First-Year Magical Knowledge at Hogwarts.
What?
He looked up in confusion at the masked figure, a strange suspicion blooming in his mind: Could this really just be, as the title said, a first-year study guide?
"What's wrong—confused?" The stranger's tone was openly mocking.
"No, I just…" Malfoy fumbled for words.
He wasn't confused—he was simply stunned.
"Child, you lack the proper respect for knowledge," the stranger said, disappointment heavy in his voice.
"…I just think the school lessons are so dull," Malfoy admitted, unable to hide his true feelings.
"Knowledge isn't meant to entertain you. If you want to become powerful, you must respect it—and fear it," the stranger's tone turned cold and solemn.
Malfoy only half understood, but somehow, it all sounded very reasonable.
"It seems the test wasn't enough. If you truly wish to grow stronger, read this notebook—cover to cover. Next Friday, at this time, I'll return."
With that, the mysterious stranger vanished, not waiting for any reply.
Malfoy stood frozen beneath the oak, clutching the thick notebook, at a complete loss.
After a long while, he flipped open the Complete Guide, spotting a line of tiny writing on the title page—but it was too dark to read.
He fished out a glowing orb from his pocket and illuminated the words, written in red ink: "Read for yourself. Do not share with others!"
Red ink—a warning?
The thought made his heart skip a beat.
But mostly, he felt a surge of excitement.
If it was forbidden to share, the contents must be valuable!
The mysterious stranger wouldn't just hand him an ordinary notebook. He had to treasure this chance!
He said this was another test. Well, he'd study the notebook thoroughly!
If he could pass this test, the stranger would surely teach him real magic—he'd become truly powerful!
Malfoy hugged the notebook to his chest. The more he thought about it, the more fired up he became. His footsteps grew lighter and lighter as he hurried down the path toward the castle, vanishing into the night.
…
When Malfoy's figure had faded into the darkness, another tall shadow appeared beneath the oak—the same masked, black-robed figure as before.
He muttered, "Having to play the mysterious mentor just to tutor a kid… This little brat really is a handful."
With that, he too set off toward the castle.
As he walked, he removed the mask. His tall figure seemed to shrink a little—revealing a boy who was still growing into his height.
"Masks really are handy… Makes me miss Swinton, that old rascal…"
His voice drifted away on the wind, carried far, far into the night.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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