Chapter 54: A rare leisure time
The remaining days of the summer term were spent in a blaze of sunshine.
"Play chess, Blaise?" Pansy said maliciously on the grass beside the Black Lake. "I want to hear someone call me 'sister'."
"I'm never going to play chess with you again, Pansy Parkinson, you cunning little viper." Blaise put down the book in his hand and put on a smug face. "Unless my hair is on fire and you are the last drop of water in the black lake."
"Oh, really?" Pansy said with a sour face and an arrogant look. "I don't want to play chess with you, Blaise Zabini! Not unless I'm starving and you're the last pickle on the Hogwarts table!"
Blaise glanced at her, then suddenly smiled playfully, tilting his chin at her and saying, "Let's have a picnic together sometime?"
Pansy seemed offended. She snorted, turned around and walked away, with a hint of laughter in her voice, "You wish!"
Blaise followed her, his lazy voice carried on the wind: "Midnight snack?"
"Shut up!" Pansy walked faster.
"Draco, don't they eat face to face every day?" Crabbe asked in a low voice. "Are they arguing?"
"Of course not, that's called flirting." Draco said impatiently, "Okay, go and do your thing, and leave me alone."
Crabbe shrugged, exchanged a glance with Goyle, and headed toward the castle.
After sending the Slytherins away, Draco took a walk around the Black Lake, enjoying this rare leisure time.
Hogwarts has returned to normal, and all the petrified students have now been reborn.
Draco noticed that the tactless Colin Creevey was once again holding his ever-present camera, following Harry's fleeing body, asking for a photo. "Just one, Harry, just one, and then sign it for me, okay?"
One day, as he passed through the corridor, he heard Justin Finch-Fletchley stammering an apology to Harry - his tone sounded just like Professor Quirrell from the previous year - "I shouldn't have doubted you, Harry, I'm so sorry."
As for Gryffindor's resident ghost, Sir Nearly Headless Nick, he happily performed his nearly headless experience at the Gryffindor dining table, filling the hall with a joyful atmosphere every time.
Even Mr. Filch seemed pleased with himself. The Marauder's Map said it no longer spotted him pretending to be a statue on the third-floor wall. He now preferred to stroll around the school holding his wife, Mrs. Norris, and, for once, ignore any mischievous students.
Draco hadn't been looking at the Marauder's Map as much lately.
Ever since he handed the Horcrux issue over to Professor Dumbledore, he finally enjoyed the leisurely life a second-year student at Hogwarts deserved, getting a high-quality sleep that was even more effective than Occlumency. Coupled with a proper diet and extensive training with the Quidditch team, his usually pale complexion gradually took on a rosy hue, and he could truly be described as having rosy lips and white teeth.
Time flies, and Draco Malfoy has already completed his second year at Hogwarts. Time is the best medicine to heal all things. The haze of memories seems to be gradually dissipating, and the bright sunlight is faintly visible in the cloudy sky, with a golden edge.
As he walked by the lake under the bright sunshine, breathing in the faint sweet scent of roses, those dark memories seemed particularly far away from him.
He seemed to be just a teenager about to celebrate his 13th birthday, free to express his joys and sorrows, making close friends and having a perfect life; the seven years he had experienced, seven years in which he gradually lost his pride, dignity and glory, seemed to be just a nightmare with supernatural precision in details.
It was Draco's birthday. Students were racing around the Quidditch pitch or playing in the meadows by the Black Lake. Their luggage had been packed by the house-elves, and in a few hours, they would board the Hogwarts Express and embark on their journey home.
All the students were cheerful, and perhaps the only one who seemed unhappy was Harry.
"I hate holidays," he told Draco, under the huge oak tree, as he watched the giant squid looming in the ripples of the Black Lake.
Draco, his hands in his pockets, was leaning against a dense, thick oak tree, lost in thought. Hearing this, he said absentmindedly, "Your uncle's family is indeed unpleasant... I'm curious, growing up in such a family, how could you remain so mentally healthy without being influenced by them?"
"Maybe it's because they're not valued... Look what they did to their precious son Dudley." Harry snorted unhappily.
Draco had been listening to Harry complain about his cousin Dudley for an hour.
In fact, the more he listened, the more he felt subtly guilty—the way Harry's uncle and aunt doted on Dudley was similar to the way Lucius and Narcissa loved him.
In his past life, Draco was oblivious to such things. Now that he thought about it, perhaps spoiled children did have the flaws of being selfish, lacking empathy, and unable to express their inner thoughts properly.
Education is particularly crucial in shaping a child. Not that Draco would complain about them—they had already given him the best they could. Parents dote on their children, but no one is perfect. How can you expect a pair of new parents to be perfect in every way?
For Harry, the doting on their own child and the harsh treatment they showed him formed a stark contrast. Draco put himself in their shoes and thought, if he were Harry, he would have been fed up with these Muggles and would have blown their house up.
"Where's your godfather? Didn't he contact you?" Draco glanced at the figures of Ron, George and Fred playing by the Black Lake, then turned back to look at Hermione who was sitting alone in the shade of a tree not far away, carefully flipping through "Ancient Magic Runes Simple Introduction" as a "recreation", and wisely chose to change his thinking to solve the current problem.
"Oh, he's been writing to me quite a few times. The other day, he even—" Harry hesitated. "He asked me if I'd like to spend the summer at the Black house. I'm not sure whether I should say yes or not."
"Why not?" Draco raised his eyebrows.
"I've never met him... I don't know what kind of person he is. I don't know if he will like me..." A trace of worry appeared on Harry's face.
"I don't think he can be more annoying than your uncle and aunt, right? He is your godfather, half your father, and your parents' best friend. How could he not like you?" Draco didn't care.
Harry's worries were entirely unnecessary.
In his previous life, Harry had a deep affection for his godfather. When Sirius died, Harry was visibly depressed. It was obvious that their relationship must have been very close at that time.
"I know everything you're saying, I just kind of—" Harry hesitated.
"--You're feeling homesick, right? That's normal. Because you care and have expectations, you're afraid the result won't be what you expected." Draco understood.
Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded.
"Don't worry. You're the one in the dark. To be honest, I have to call Sirius Black uncle, even though I don't call him that. The Weasley family and the Black family are also closely related - in fact, pure-blood wizard families are basically related to each other. If you feel uncomfortable living in the Black mansion, you can ask Ron to come and play with you, or you can call me." Draco's tone was relaxed.
"Thank you, Draco." Harry looked much better. He suddenly remembered something and took out a small gift box from his robe pocket. "Happy birthday, I heard from Hermione that it's your birthday today."
Draco raised an eyebrow, took the gift and thanked him.
"Can I open it?" he asked Harry, shaking the little box and listening to the sounds inside.
"Of course," Harry said happily. He was half looking forward to the reaction when he opened it.
Draco quickly opened the small box—inside was a miniature model of the Golden Snitch. The pale golden creature, smaller than the usual Snitch, flew out joyfully and circled around Draco, seemingly never tired. Harry said sheepishly, "I thought, since you're a Seeker, you might like something like this."
"That's a cool gift." Draco smiled faintly.
The friendship between boys is simple and concise. A common hobby, or sharing of favorite objects, and then, they are like-minded friends.
He had not expected to receive a gift from Harry. In the past, he had approached Harry with impure motives, but now, he seemed to have received a pure friendship.
As the diary and the crown horcruxes were destroyed one after another, the Dark Lord's soul was sealed in Quirrell's body. Dumbledore took over the subsequent tasks, and Draco's intention to use Harry had faded away.
Apart from the arrogant title of "savior", Harry can be considered a kind and optimistic child. Of course, he is still a little stupid, and he has to emphasize this.
Harry was beaming. He smiled at Draco and walked briskly towards the Black Lake, joining the group of boys studying the giant squid.
Draco curled the corners of his mouth, rewrapped the special gift, and solemnly put it into the pocket of his robe, without counting how many gifts he had received today.
In fact, he could hardly count them. This morning, as soon as he got up, he was shocked by the pile of chocolates and various candy boxes in front of his bed.
Ever since he captured Peter Pettigrew and was awarded the Order of Merlin, the Slytherins, who worshipped the powerful, had gained some confidence in Draco. At the time, the Slytherins were plagued by rumors and were considered suspects of opening the Chamber of Secrets. Draco cleared their names in time and gave them a chance to feel proud.
As a result, students from other colleges also had a much better impression of him.
This indirectly led to some surprising consequences: he passively got to know some students from other colleges - they seemed to be completely unconcerned with his aloof attitude and would occasionally greet him warmly in the corridor, as if they were close old friends of many years.
As a result, the number of birthday gifts he received skyrocketed to a new level.
Most people give candy and chocolate as birthday gifts, which have always been the hard currency for expressing friendship between Hogwarts students.
Some people's gifts were more creative. The one that impressed Draco the most was Ron's gift of "200 Effective Ways to Make a Witch Happy." Inside the book was a note from Ron saying, "Never make Hermione angry again. She always gets on Harry and me when she's angry." This made Draco laugh and cry.
The Weasley twins gave him a pair of newly developed retractable ears, which looked like a long, flesh-colored string. The instructions card read: "You insert one end into a person's ear and the other end under a door. You will be able to hear conversations taking place on the other side as clearly as if they were right next to you. However, the retractable ears will not work on doors with an anti-interference charm."
It was a rare opportunity for the twins to invent something that was more practical than entertaining, and Draco decided to put it to good use one day.
Brilliant sunlight filtered through the gaps in the treetops, scattering specks of light onto Draco's platinum hair. He squinted his eyes, enjoying this rare moment of leisure, leaning against the tree trunk, his mind wandering. Then, he noticed that Hermione, who had been reading on the grass nearby, had quietly come to stand beside him.
"Draco, I prepared a birthday present for you." She put her right hand behind her back, her face slightly pink from the sun. "I wonder if you will like it. I bought it when I went to the antique market with my mother. When I saw it, I thought of you..."
Draco's interest was piqued by her words. He tilted his head and looked at her. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Well, it might be a little... not quite like a gift for a boy... I mean..." She said shyly, stretching her right hand in front of him, still hiding the thing tightly.
"Open it and let me see." Draco looked at her hand suspiciously. Apparently, the thing wasn't very big, because it could be held in her hand.
"Well, don't laugh at me, I really don't know what else you're missing..." Hermione used her chatter to cover up her nervousness. She covered her eyes with her left hand and slowly opened her right hand.
On her palm lay a silver snake-shaped ring, emitting a cold and gentle light. Draco didn't know why he described the ring in this way, but this was the first impression it gave him.
Hermione felt his fingertips brushing across her palm, bringing a tingling sensation of tiny electric current.
Then, the palm where the ring had been placed felt lighter and empty.
She still didn't dare to open her eyes, and then she felt someone approaching her. He whispered in her ear: "A very unexpected gift -"
Then, there was silence.
The silence was too long and unbearable, and she finally couldn't help but secretly opened her eyes through her fingers to look at him.
The platinum-haired boy smiled softly, bending slightly, his light grey eyes meeting hers through the gaps between her fingers. Hermione could see the corners of his mouth curling up as he swung the ring on his finger towards her and said with a hint of pride, "This is a very creative gift. I like it very much. Thank you."
"Then why didn't you say anything? You made me nervous for a long time!" Hermione said with a confused face.
The boy's smile widened. "I want to wait for you to open your eyes. To express gratitude, you should look directly at the other person, right?"
Hermione pursed her lips, wanting to retort. She had a feeling he was teasing her. But she couldn't resist that dazzling face. She pursed her lips patiently for a moment, but couldn't help herself and finally laughed along with him.
"Okay, as long as you like it." She picked up the book "A Simple Introduction to Ancient Magic Runes" again and hid her smile behind the book.
The boy and girl who were immersed in the happy atmosphere did not know that in the quiet castle not far behind them, through the huge window of the headmaster's office, Dumbledore and Snape's eyes were lingering on them for a long time.
"Draco Malfoy." At this moment, Headmaster Dumbledore, who had been elusive at Hogwarts for nearly two months, was standing by the window of the spacious and bright Headmaster's office. His blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Severus, there's something about him that reminds me of you."
"Don't compare me with stupid students..." Snape said impatiently, "I don't see any similarities between me and the Malfoy children. Moreover, based on my understanding of Lucius Malfoy over the years, the possibility of him turning to this side is very small..."
"We will all eventually grow old and embrace death one day. We should place our hopes on the younger generation, such as Harry. For example, Draco, if my eyes were not blurry, I seem to see some new possibilities in this Slytherin..." Dumbledore looked at Snape with a smile.
"What a touching imagination... A child who just turned 13 can change the ancient pure-blood wizard family that has been passed down for centuries... and make his Death Eater father turn over a new leaf..." Snape hissed like a dissatisfied snake, "Why? Give me a reason."
"I made a promise to someone, and I cannot tell you why." Dumbledore smiled gently and did not continue the topic. He looked away, and a sharp flash of light flashed in his blue eyes. "Tell me, Severus, how are you and Professor Flitwick studying Quirrell's body?"
"Not ideal..." Snape's face grew serious, his brows furrowed. "We still don't dare to remove Quirrell's petrification, nor can we directly chop Quirrell into pieces with the sword of Gryffindor. Who knows if the soul will perish, or will it escape again with Quirrell's death? No one has ever seen this kind of situation with two souls in one body... We've spent a whole year, but we still don't understand why Voldemort's incomplete soul was trapped in Quirrell's body by a small petrification spell... The only thing we can do is to properly place his body in the cellar..."
"This is not just the effect of a petrification spell," Dumbledore said firmly. "Someone must have cast some other advanced spell."
"That's impossible. They were only first-year students at the time... Both Potter and Granger grew up in Muggle families and had no access to more advanced magic. It was Miss Granger's good fortune that she could cast the petrification spell," Snape said with a frown.
"On the day Quirrell and Voldemort's souls were petrified, there must have been someone else there besides Hermione and Harry. This person cast another spell, which prevented Voldemort's soul from escaping." Dumbledore said lightly.
"Who would do this?" A rare look of surprise appeared on Snape's face.
"Mr. Potter was unconscious at the time, and the only conscious person at the scene was Miss Granger. I guess she told us a white lie to protect someone close to her... This person must be very special to her. This is just my immature guess." Dumbledore glanced casually at the noisy world outside the window, and finally sat back in the comfortable armchair, sighing with contentment.
He picked up a lemon sherbet from the table. "Want one, Severus?"
Snape glared at him fiercely, as if condemning his rude behavior that did not respect the occasion or the priority. "No need. I know what you are implying. Draco Malfoy was also a first-year student at the time, and from what I knew of him before, he was not much smarter than Miss Granger."
"But he captured the Animagus Peter Pettigrew and saved Ron Weasley in the Chamber of Secrets, indirectly helping Harry destroy the diary. He even brewed the Mandrake resurrection potion on his own and saved Hermione Granger. With all due respect, I don't think Draco Malfoy would be a good candidate for a Death Eater." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, unwrapping the lemon sherbet and taking a bite.
The child even reminded him that the diary was a Horcrux. Given such advanced knowledge of the Dark Arts, it wouldn't be surprising if he knew a few more spells.
"Don't drag innocent students from my college into these matters. He's just a spoiled, show-off, ignorant boy who's been exposed by his parents. He's considered outstanding among his peers and has a little talent for potions, but other than that, he's no different from other Slytherins..." Snape said with a straight face.
"Then let's observe for a while longer," Dumbledore said enthusiastically, concentrating on the lemon sherbet in his hand. "After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. To me, he's a worthy target."
Snape snorted, his dark eyes silently looking at the boy with platinum hair in the sunlight. Even from a distance, the dazzling color was still like a lighthouse on the sea, impossible to ignore.
"How is the research on the Dark Lord's other Horcruxes going?" Snape asked after thinking for a while.
"I've got some ideas," Dumbledore said with a smile, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "I've already found Caractacus Burke, Borgin and Burke's former boss. Through some connections, I've also contacted the retired Bob Ogden, who used to work at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"I don't see how these two people can help your research." Snape's expression was extremely cold. "You should go find someone from the Gaunt family, if any of his descendants are still alive."
"Of course. I've already obtained some of Morfin Gaunt's memories in Azkaban—I spent quite a bit of effort convincing the guards there. But it was worth it. After all, he is the only living member of the Gaunt family left in the world." Dumbledore's face grew serious. "But relying solely on his memories is far from enough. We need to seek the truth from multiple angles. Any clues about Voldemort are worth studying.