Chapter 46: Ron is full of resentment
North Sea area.
In late winter, the cold sea cruelly embraces an isolated island, a place that wizards least want to visit and a sacred place for Dementors to revel in.
No one can escape from here. No one.
Those who come here often go mad after a few weeks. Everything is drained away by this horrible place—spirit, health, and youth are allergic to it. People scream in their sleep. In the presence of the Dementors, they cry out all sorts of things, go on hunger strike, go mad, and eventually lose the will to live.
Most people who enter will never leave. Here lie the bones of countless prisoners. Even if a prisoner dies tragically in this horrible prison, they will not receive any sympathy from the wizards - those imprisoned here are considered to be extremely evil.
There may be one person who is an exception.
He was a gaunt, dark-haired man, his dirty, tangled hair hanging down to his elbows. His waxy skin was stretched tight over his cheekbones, and he was as thin as a skeleton. His eyes were glazed over, and he leaned against the prison wall like a corpse, ignoring the shouts and screams of the prisoners next door, and ignoring the Ministry of Magic officials walking down the corridor.
"Sirius Black! You are vindicated." The Ministry official stopped in front of his cell and said in a gentle voice that he had not shown him in more than ten years. "We... I'm afraid we were mistaken before. You are innocent. You are free."
Sirius Black didn't react at all, not even giving the other person a glance, as if this matter had nothing to do with him from beginning to end.
"We've caught Peter Pettigrew and are trying him now," the official said uneasily, looking him over. "He was hiding in Hogwarts and was caught by a friend of Harry Potter. You know Harry Potter, don't you?"
Sirius Black raised his eyes. A bright light shone from his deep black eye sockets.
"Potter," he hissed, like a limp clock being wound back up. "Harry Potter?"
"Thank Merlin, you still remember. The Dementors haven't completely destroyed you. Now the Minister can finally sleep." The official looked at him in surprise and said thankfully. He said in a doubly positive tone, "That's your godson, isn't it? Come with me, leave here, and start a new life..."
The arrest of Peter Pettigrew – AKA Peter Pettigrew – in late February sent shockwaves through the wizarding world.
Draco Malfoy was not looking well this morning.
He had a nightmare all night and woke up feeling a little depressed. A few days ago, he saw the image of Peter Pettigrew again, which brought back the painful memories associated with him. The series of tortures and murders carried out by the Dark Lord in Peter Pettigrew's presence, sometimes in the dungeon, sometimes at the dinner table.
Then, as he walked into the Great Hall, he bumped into Muggle Studies Professor Charity Burbage at the door. He saluted the cheerful-looking teacher and didn't dare look up again until she had walked into the door for a long time before he moved his feet and walked into the Great Hall in a sullen manner.
He would always remember how Professor Burbage had been tortured in front of him and how she had died tragically on the long table in his house. All because she had written an article in the Daily Prophet defending Muggle-borns. All because she wanted pure-blood wizards and Muggle-borns to marry, believing it was a "desirable phenomenon."
He remembered how she floated above the long table, how tears welled up in her eyes and flowed into her hair. He remembered how she pleaded with Professor Snape, but Professor Snape remained unmoved. He remembered how she was wiped out by a flash of green light and landed on the table with a thud that made it tremble and creak.
He remembered that he had slipped from his seat and fallen to the floor, not daring to look at what was happening on the table, not daring to watch how the giant snake ate her body.
The creaking sound kept ringing in his ears, making him realize his fear, timidity, and cowardice.
At that moment, he completely realized that there was no possibility for him and her.
Draco Malfoy, you can never take chances.
As long as the Dark Lord lives, you can never—
He walked past her in the aisle and glanced at her expressionlessly - she was drinking milk and turning the pages of a thick book with great concentration - feeling a pang of sadness in his heart.
Shaking his wand, he cast a silent Occlumency spell and sat down in his usual seat at the Slytherin table, planning to have a quick breakfast.
He was a little late. Draco took out his pocket watch and checked the time, deciding he only had a quarter of an hour to waste before heading to the greenhouse for Herbology. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed in boredom, suddenly feeling a little uneasy.
Many eyes were fixed on him for unknown reasons. The students in the auditorium were all secretly observing him.
He glanced around fiercely, trying to drive their gazes away with his cold eyes.
But it was no use. The gazes only grew more intense.
"What's wrong with people?" he asked Blaise Zabini impatiently.
"This isn't the time to keep a straight face. Put away your grumpiness and try to put on a fake smile." Blaise said with a strange expression, trying not to laugh. "You're the center of attention right now. You have to look after your image and bring honor to Slytherin."
"Should I take that as sarcasm?" Draco glared at him.
Across the table, Pansy Parkinson couldn't help but giggle and handed Draco a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Look!"
Draco took the newspaper and frowned. He saw a picture of Peter Pettigrew crying and wiping tears from behind bars in Azkaban. The headline read, "Peter Pettigrew Imprisoned, Sirius Black Exonerated."
"The Ministry of Magic moves quickly," he said flatly, "but what does that have to do with me?"
Blaise abandoned his usual arrogance and thoughtfully helped him open the newspaper. "Come, great man, take a look at the second page."
Draco raised an eyebrow and glanced at Blaise. He didn't look fake, but rather sincere.
A boy like Blaise, who was so arrogant at heart, was actually so considerate to him? The sun was rising from the west? He felt a hint of curiosity and lowered his eyes to browse the contents of the newspaper.
"...The Ministry of Magic has confirmed Sirius Black's innocence in this matter through the use of a flashback spell cast by a wand. Some Ministry officials believe that Barty Crouch, then Minister for Magical Enforcement (currently Director of the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation), was too hasty in sentencing Sirius Black as the presiding judge in this case... Draco Malfoy, a second-year Slytherin student, and George and Fred Weasley, fourth-year Gryffindor students, made outstanding contributions in the arrest of Peter Pettigrew. The Ministry of Magic has decided to award them the Order of Merlin, Second Class..."
Not surprising. In the wizarding world, the highest honor is receiving the Order of Merlin. I wonder if my father and mother would be proud of this... Draco smiled faintly.
"Finally, I feel proud of myself," Pansy said. "The newspaper even hinted that Peter Pettigrew might be involved in the recent Chamber of Secrets incident at Hogwarts. Now, they can't vent their anger on us because of the Chamber of Secrets anymore. To be honest, I'm tired of arguing with them." She gestured with her chin towards the tables of the other three colleges.
"Even so, I doubt that Salazar Slytherin would choose such a wretched student from Gryffindor as his heir," Blaise said disapprovingly.
Pansy smiled nonchalantly, "Whether it's true or not, who cares? Anyway, as long as someone takes the blame, that's all that matters."
That's right. Cornelius Fudge just wanted to calm the situation down as quickly as possible and didn't want to delve into the truth, Draco thought with a gloomy expression.
"Draco, well done." Marcus Flint, who had just walked over, raised his eyebrows and said with high morale, "But don't let fame go to your head. Our team has a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw in a couple of days... I hope you can play as well as you did last time..."
He thought for a moment, then added, "Of course, don't fall off the broom again... I'll check the Bludger carefully." It seemed that the Bludger had also scared him quite a bit last time.
Draco nodded and smiled at him.
Marcus was simmering with anger, preparing to compete in this year's Quidditch Cup. He trained three times a week, sometimes even forcing his teammates to practice extra. Draco could understand him—last year's Slytherin team had been beaten so badly.
But not all students can regain their sanity like Marcus and continue to do what they should do.
The students at Hogwarts were talking about this, treating Draco and the Weasley twins as some kind of heroes. As they passed through the corridors, students beside them would point at them excitedly, whisper to each other, or stare at them in awe.
This was understandable. Three months had passed since the last attack by the Chamber of Secrets monster, and nothing had happened since then. The fear of the Chamber of Secrets had gradually faded, and almost everyone believed that the attacker had retired from this cruel game.
Coupled with the vague hint in the newspaper, most students believed that Peter Pettigrew was the mastermind behind the Chamber of Secrets and had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Moreover, in the Herbology class, Professor Sprout happily announced the good news: the mandrake had shown signs of maturity.
"Yesterday, some of the mandrakes had a noisy dance party in the greenhouse," she enthused. "When they want to be repotted themselves, that's when they're ready."
This made all the students who heard the news feel relieved.
This meant that those poor petrified people would soon be saved. The students' attitudes became more positive as they helped the squeaking mandrakes compost.
"Draco, are you hiding from me?" Hermione strode up to him and caught him.
"No." His eyes wandered to the Venus flytrap hanging from the ceiling. Thinking of Professor Bubbaji whom he saw in the morning, his heart tightened and he shuddered again.
"Not a ghost! You were too guilty to look me in the eye this morning, weren't you?" She was holding a flowerpot in her arms, pushing aside the lush leaves of the mandrake, and complained to him angrily, "I've always felt that your attitude towards the mouse was not right. And the questions you asked me in Transfiguration class... didn't you say you would tell me when you figured it out? You didn't keep your word! It was Harry who told me the whole story!"
Draco couldn't let his mind wander any further. He looked at her vibrant, living face and for a moment couldn't unsee her.
"It happened suddenly. We were sure there was something wrong with the mouse and immediately sent it to the principal's office. Thank you for the hint about the Muggle fairy tale. It was very useful." He was busy explaining while quickly catching the basin that slipped from her arms.
That was close!
"Thank you." She was startled. "This flowerpot is very heavy."
"You're welcome." A slight smile appeared on his face.
Clumsy Miss Know-It-All—where has all that cleverness gone in Potions class?
"Okay, I understand that we have to act in a hurry. But how did you find out that the mouse was an Animagus? It's not something that can be easily dismissed by intuition or inspiration..." Hermione looked at him curiously, her eyes shining like two searchlights, as if she wanted to find some evidence from his face.
"It's a secret that cannot be told." He hushed her, earning her an angry snort in return.
"A Slytherin boy full of secrets!" she muttered softly, looking unwilling, and prepared to go to the front to move the flower pots again.
"Let me do it. How many more pots do you want to move?" he asked her.
"Six basins," she said sternly. "I can carry them myself."
"Come on," he said lazily, his spirits rising. "Those hands that make Polyjuice Potion aren't meant for heavy work. Why don't you hold on to the flowerpot? That mandrake's about to pop out..."
She quickly held the flowerpot and pressed the mandrake into the soil. Seeing him working so hard to help her move the flowerpot, she couldn't frown at him again.
Then came the repetitive composting work. Hermione held onto the pot and watched him fertilize the angry mandrake with disgust. Seeing his gnashing teeth and helpless look, she suddenly found it very interesting.
She finally couldn't help but smile at him.
"Draco, do you think Peter Pettigrew was responsible for the Chamber of Secrets?" She was in a good mood and started asking questions again.
"Of course not," Draco said. "If he goes to the Chamber of Secrets, he'll be eaten by the Basilisk as dessert."
"I think so too," she whispered. "We still can't be careless, right?"
"That's right." He looked at her deeply. "Stay alert and be careful, okay?"
Yes, that was it, Draco convinced himself. He couldn't ignore her until this Chamber of Secrets thing was over.
She wasn't safe. She could be hurt at any moment. How could he let go of his worries and keep his distance from her?
After the Herbology class, Draco and several Slytherin classmates crossed the vegetable garden and prepared to go back to the dormitory for a quick shower, but were unexpectedly stopped by Ron.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" Ron said grimly. "You've been suspicious of Scabbers for a while now, haven't you? I was wondering why you were staring at him so much lately. Why did you take such a detour and let George and Fred take Scabbers away?"
Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson drew their wands eagerly, looking eager to see the show begin. They had always disliked those Gryffindors, and in the past they had only let "certain people" off for Draco's sake.
Now, seeing someone actively looking for trouble, they couldn't help but feel excited.
"Without Crabbe and Goyle as your bodyguards, you've got new ones?" Ron said contemptuously, looking at them without moving.
Pansy glared at him. Blaise's face also turned cold.
Draco knew Ron had stirred up a hornet's nest with his words. Pansy and Blaise were each prouder than the other. They weren't as heartless as Crabbe and Goyle. They wouldn't accept being treated as lesser servants or bodyguards. This statement offended them deeply.
"You ungrateful fellow." Pansy pointed the tip of her wand at Ron and gave him a threatening look. "He saved your life, did you know that? That rat could kill you at any time, you idiot..."
"What's it to you? You—" Ron said angrily.
"There's no need to insult my friend, Ron. I don't think you're the type to take your anger out on others," Draco said, turning to Blaise, whose face was gloomy. "You should know he's mad at me, not you. Take Pansy and go first."
Blaise looked Ron up and down and said a dismissive "hmm." Ron flushed.
"Blayce, you dare, you dare to try to pull me..." Amid Pansy's threat, Blayce pushed and shoved her away, looking back every few steps.
Before leaving, Blaise spat on the ground, "Weasley, use your brain, don't be so shameless——"
"Let's go, let's go." Draco waved at them and smiled at them reassuringly.
After they were far away, far enough away that they wouldn't suddenly rush back and continue to stir up trouble, Draco said slowly, "I admit that I deliberately kept this from you. I thought that only in this way could we achieve the highest efficiency and the highest success rate."
"Will I slow down your efficiency? And hinder your great progress in obtaining the Order of Merlin, Second Class?" Ron said sarcastically, his face as red as his hair.
"I didn't mean that. I just thought you wouldn't give it to me easily." Draco explained patiently.
"This is my mouse! Of course I have the right not to give it to you, I have the right to question it, and I have the right to be angry!" Ron shouted at him angrily.
"That's the problem. I certainly respect your rights. But with all due respect, while we were arguing about whether Scabbers was an Animagus or not, he might have already escaped." Draco calmly pointed out the problem. "You are aware that wizards can understand human speech in Animagus form, right?"
Ron choked. He saw that Draco had a point, but he didn't want to admit it.
"I understand your feelings completely. I know you like the mouse very much - even though you complain every day that it is listless and useless - you have always been concerned about its health and take good care of it." Draco was a little helpless.
Understanding Ron's passion for the rat, he had to take extra steps to ensure the capture of Peter Pettigrew was flawless. He went on to say, "That's why I'm convinced that I can't get the rat directly from you anytime soon."
Ron was furious.
Why should Draco define him arbitrarily and try to act like he was trying to understand him?
The feeling of betrayal surged in his heart, as well as a deep sense of grievance - the grievance that Draco didn't believe he could make the right choice.
"Don't say you understand me, you know nothing about me! I once wanted to treat you as a friend, but you are not worthy of my trust! I have finally seen that you are a thorough Malfoy, an evil Slytherin, just as they say! Arrogant, conceited, rude, and unscrupulous!" Ron yelled at him angrily, scaring away a group of crows foraging in the vegetable garden.
"Yes, I am," Draco looked at him coldly with his grey eyes. Whether in his past life or this life, being verbally attacked like this was commonplace, and he was used to it.
Taking a deep breath, he dropped his eyes and said wearily, "I'm glad we made that clear."
Ron snorted, turned around and strode away, leaving Draco standing there. Harry, who was waiting not far away, gave Draco an apologetic look and followed Ron.
Harry didn't dare move too close; he didn't want to join the argument. In fact, he felt Draco's behavior was understandable. Ron did have a strange fondness for the rat, and to some extent, Draco's prediction was basically true.
But Ron... Ron was his best friend. Harry felt a little sorry for Draco.
Draco stared at the crows that had landed again in the vegetable garden, watching them struggling to find something in the soil, and tried to maintain an indifferent and calm expression.
At this moment, two arms were placed on Draco's shoulders, one on the left and one on the right. He looked up alertly, drew his wand, and found that it was Ron's two brothers. Fred looked as if it was nothing, "It's okay, we make him angry once a week on average -"
"Sometimes twice," said George.
"In fact, he got mad at us this time too, yelling about us disrespecting him and all that, and we thought he was just jealous we got the medals—" Fred said heartlessly.
"Mum's thrilled. The last time she was this excited was when Percy got his prefect badge—" George blinked.
"Oh no, it should be the time with Bill—" Fred said, grinning.
"Or that time with Charlie—" George looked unsatisfied.
"She's never been this excited, actually," Fred told Draco bluntly.
Draco smiled faintly.
"Before long, this idiot will come and make peace with you. I always thought he needed to improve his emotional management..." George said to him.
Draco pursed his lips, feeling that he really shouldn't be so mean to a 12-year-old kid.
Besides, losing a pet is really sad. He said to the twins, "I have a favor to ask of you. Use the dividends from my investment to buy a pet for Ron, a decent owl or something. Judging from the way he looks, he probably won't accept my apology or gift."
Early in the morning of March 1st, Ron opened his eyes and found a little owl perched beside his pillow.
"Where are you from?" He looked at the little thing curiously. The little owl flapped its wings excitedly and let out a short cry.
"A horn for your birthday." George sat on the corner of his bed, playing with his wand absentmindedly. "Don't be angry with us."
"It's all mine?" Ron said incredulously. He stroked the owl's feathers with a smile on his face. "I'm going to call you Piggy. Do you like that?"
The piglet squealed with delight and jumped up and down on his pillow.
"I can't believe this. This must cost a lot of money, right? You're willing to buy me an owl?" Ron asked excitedly.
"Oh, we made a little money. The skipping candies sold very well." Fred said with a smile, rubbing Ron's messy head. Ron glared at him unhappily, "Don't tell Mom what we're doing."
"It doesn't matter even if she knows. You two are her proudest sons now. Two sons who have won the Order of Merlin! Percy has to stand aside!" Ron said sourly.
"Don't cry like Ginny. We have enough trouble comforting her," George advised him. "It's a good thing to send that rat away. You know, he's a dangerous Death Eater. Draco told me that he must be very worried when he thinks about you sleeping in the same bed with that Death Eater every day..."
"Don't speak well of him! I will never forgive him, despicable Draco Malfoy, unscrupulous Slytherin!" Ron said loudly angrily, waking up Neville Longbottom next door from his sleep.
"What happened?" Neville said in horror, squirming under the covers. "Is Malfoy here?"
"Why are you afraid of him?" Ron asked sullenly.
"He always has a scary look in his eyes, don't you notice?" Neville said.
"Come on, Neville, don't encourage others and destroy your own prestige! Next time you see him, just glare back..." Ron said angrily.
The twin brothers were extremely helpless. They looked at each other, shook their heads, shut their brother's angry words behind the door, and walked towards the common room arm in arm.