Harry Potter: Miss Malfoy

In a trance, all I could hear was the sound of dripping water, splashing up the rotten and moldy smell buried deep underground.

I couldn't help but shiver.

As the candlelight flickered, I looked at myself in a white veil, leaving a long and narrow black shadow in the corridor.

Although it was winter, my bare ankles did not feel cold at all when they stepped on the stone slabs.

The melted wax flowed down the candlestick, fell on the white back of the hand and solidified again.

The weak consciousness is like a ghost that has been expelled from the body.

I struggled to do something, but my body didn't respond at all.

I thought I had screamed, but all that echoed in the corridor was the faint sound of a skirt scraping against the stone surface.

His steps were frighteningly light.

The lively eyes seemed to be covered by a thin layer of mist, staring blankly into the distance.

He walked slowly along the stone wall, stretching out his right hand and stroking the stone wall with two fingers.

From time to time, I would lean my face against the wall, listen, and feel the heartbeat behind the wall.

It was as if the stone wall was giving birth to something.

The candlelight shone on her soft golden hair, and her usually delicate face looked pale.

The snowstorm outside the castle was fierce, and the wind that blew into the corridor through the outer wall swept the white skirt.

It makes me feel like the girl in the legend who was accidentally buried alive, wrapped in a shroud and looking for the family that abandoned her.

I've heard a cat's meow suddenly stop and smelled film burning.

I remember even more, the hot tears that rolled down my face after those familiar screams.

It seems a little different from the hesitation in the past.

This time, the target has already been locked on, a boy with a scar who lives in a high tower.

Will he show up?

In a trance, I seemed to sense a certain shape.

My heart was pounding with ecstasy, but with each beat, it also aroused an echo of deep sorrow and regret in my chest.

I felt vaguely reluctant, but I still opened my eyes forcefully, and a transparent shape flashed before my eyes.

got the wrong person?

The deep hatred brought about a rage that hit the head like a raging wave.

Waves of severe pain flashed through my mind, and my eyes went black and I could no longer see anything.

-

When Youyou woke up, the smell of rotten mud in her dream hit her and she suddenly felt dizzy.

Draco took a deep breath and sniffed his hands and body.

The faint fragrance remains, but the bare ankles are a little swollen and painful.

He rubbed his eyebrows gently, stood up, left the dormitory, washed up, and walked out of the hall.

The corridor was chilly.

Draco put his blond hair in a woolen hat, wrapped the light but warm shawl around his shoulders like a scarf, and blew on his gloves.

I tried hard to suppress the urge to yawn, feeling dissatisfied with my own trance.

Last night's nightmare left a particularly deep impression on me.

It seems that it is because I am determined to pursue something in my dream.

Crabbe and Goyle were following closely behind.

As soon as they saw Draco was about to leave the hall, they hurried over.

I know they meant to protect me, after all, the story of Harry Potter ordering a snake to attack him seemed to have spread throughout the school.

But the heavy pace of the two made Draco even more upset.

In the corridor, groups of students clung to each other nervously.

It seems that he is worried that if he is left alone, he will become the next victim.

Along the way, there were constant whispers, all about Harry—

"He must be the heir of Slytherin, otherwise why would he know Parseltongue?"

"But, he's in Gryffindor..."

"Maybe he used some dark magic to trick the Sorting Hat...?"

Draco frowned at the unfounded assumption.

After sending Crabbe and Goyle away, he decided to sit in the library before the Transfiguration class.

Just as we reached the first floor, Peeves's frightened scream came from the corner.

"Something happened! Something happened! Something happened again!"

"Now neither the living nor the ghosts... nor the spirits... are safe!"

Draco and the students around him stopped.

The students in the corridor looked at each other. Although they had never met before, they understood each other's feelings at a glance.

Something horrible must have happened to make Peeves, who was always smiling, so panic-stricken.

The air, already cold after the snowstorm, became even more condensed.

In the corridor, the sound of a wooden door opening could be heard, and the sound of running footsteps echoed on the aisle, accompanied by screams of fear.

Draco was also trying hard to get to the scene of the incident amid the crowds and discussions.

Fortunately, the few figures who accidentally bumped into Draco hurriedly dodged to the sides after realizing that they had accidentally touched the eldest daughter of the Malfoy family.

This added to the chaos, with curses adding to the already noisy mess.

But it also opened up a narrow path for Draco to pass through the crowd.

After finally reaching the front of the crowd, there was a loud bang and the noise around him suddenly quieted down.

I caught a glimpse of a long line of spiders running away in a flurry of activity, and saw Professor McGonagall holding her wand high, asking the students who were pouring out to return to the classroom.

Only then did they see the core of the chaos—floating in the air, it turned into a black mist, with only the bright red color flowing down the shoulders and neck all over the body visible.

I finally understood why Peeves was so scared, and why I suddenly felt cold all over.

There was only one victim last night, and the ghost who was attacked was the Bloody Baron, whom Peeves had always feared.

---

"Caught in red-handedness! He must be trying to get rid of Malfoy."

"Why else would they attack Slytherin students and ghosts one after another?"

I don't know who suddenly said this in the crowd.

This also caused murmurs to begin to emerge in the corridor.

Harry stood behind the Bloody Baron with a deathly pale face, staring blankly at the pale Draco.

Draco was also staring at him, his bloodless lips tightly pursed and trembling slightly.

Peeves hung frozen in mid-air, his mouth open, staring at the Bloody Baron.

This is very different from the attitude they had in the past when they found victims, which was always a joke.

Obviously, he was also very scared.

Harry looked at Draco again and saw a certain determination in her silver-gray eyes.

I vaguely felt that among the voices of doubt around me, Draco seemed to be the only one who believed that he was innocent.

As Draco turned to leave, Harry remembered the Transfiguration Water that was brewing in Moaning Myrtle's toilet.

I am increasingly looking forward to the day when the transfiguration water can be successfully prepared, and I am looking forward to having a good talk with Draco.

Hope slowly ignited in my heart from the misunderstanding and hostility of the past few days.

But in the blink of an eye, this warmth was driven back into the abyss by Professor McGonagall's call.

"Come with me, Harry."

After Professor McGonagall finally restored order at the scene,

She took Harry through the secret door guarded by the ghouls and came to the headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Harry saw a broken Sorting Hat and a weak strange bird.

At the same time, Draco clenched his fists with cold and trembling hands and knocked on the cellar door.

"come in."

Severus's lazy voice came from behind the heavy wooden door of the cellar.

Pushing open the wooden door, he walked alone into the dark room filled with medicine bottles, thinking over and over again the thought that had flashed through his mind not long ago.

If the Bloody Count was the fleeting white shadow in last night's dream.

What if, as Riddle said, he wanted to prove that Harry was not the Heir of Slytherin, he was actually trying to attack...?

He took a deep breath and walked into Severus' office. After he motioned for him to take a seat, he spoke slowly.

"...Professor Snape, may I ask you a few questions?"

Even though the man in front of him had watched him grow up since he was born,

But due to her strict upbringing, she still felt a little uncomfortable asking Draco to call Severus directly on campus.

"Of course, Draco."

"I told you that you can still call me Severus when we are alone."

Snape's voice was gentle, then turned into a slightly reproachful admonition.

"You shouldn't be acting alone right now, Draco."

"Especially after what happened to Parkinson and Greengrass."

"I am careful..."

"I know. You always do."

“But it’s not safe now.”

After a moment's silence, Draco nodded and agreed to Snape's request.

"very good."

"Tell me, what do you want to ask?"

His concession seemed to make Snape put his worries to rest.

"About the Dark Arts..."

Snape narrowed his eyes when he heard this. Draco began to get nervous.

"I...I want to know if there is any kind of magic that can explain the connection between dreams and reality."

"Or, is it possible, some kind of magic, that can turn dreams into reality?"

"This is a question that someone like Harry Potter, who doesn't understand magic, would ask."

"Indeed...indeed..."

Snape seemed a little disappointed at the innocent question.

Draco blushed in embarrassment, but he also breathed a sigh of relief.

"What if, you make someone lose consciousness, and then control the unconscious person..."

"Is it possible to make her think that she is doing something beyond her ability in a dream?"

Draco sorted out his emotions and asked the questions that really mattered.

Severus frowned slightly.

Although the movement was subtle, it did not escape Draco's sight.

This is sufficient as an indirect affirmative answer.

His dark eyes stared at her, his unfathomable expression seemed to be exploring her inner thoughts.