110: Chapter 110 The Night of Compound Decoction

"Don't eat anything anyone gives you tonight."

On the evening of the first day of the Christmas holidays, Draco stood in the center of the dormitory. Crabbe was clutching half a piece of chocolate, and Goyle was holding a paper bag, their faces looking gloomier than during a Potion exam.

Crabbe looked down at his hand. "What if we've already taken some?"

Draco snatched the chocolate away. "Hand it over."

Goyle hugged the paper bag tighter. "This one is my own."

Zabini leaned against the doorway. "If Gryffindor wants to take you down, they'll make you think it's your own."

Goyle hesitantly let go. Nott took the paper bag and opened it; inside were pumpkin pasties and a cream cake, with a brown hair tucked into the crevice of the cake.

The dormitory fell silent instantly.

Crabbe jumped up. "Who touched my cake?"

Draco's face turned pale. "The point is the hair."

Nott tucked the hair into a piece of paper. "It could've been picked up in the corridor and stuffed in; Granger is about to make a move."

Allen sat by the desk and pushed a piece of paper with the standard script toward Draco. "Crabbe and Goyle stay in the dormitory, lock the door. Pansy watches the entrance, Zabini clears the area, and Nott watches the corridor."

Draco looked at him. "What about you?"

"Sleeping."

Draco sneered. "Every time you say you're sleeping, someone ends up in trouble."

Allen tapped the parchment. "Memorize it."

Draco recited through gritted teeth, "My father hopes the school restores order. The Chamber of Secrets is just a legend. I don't know who the Heir of Slytherin is. As for the events from fifty years ago, adults don't discuss details with children. If Potter can speak Parseltongue, it's normal for others to suspect him."

Allen looked up. "You missed a line."

Draco lowered his head, his face stiff. "I hope those Mudbloods are purged, but I don't know who is doing it."

Pansy stood at the door, her brow furrowed. "Do you really have to say that?"

Allen closed his book. "If Draco suddenly acts 'clean,' the fake Crabbe will be suspicious."

Draco folded the paper. "I understand. Keep the insults on the surface, but don't let the key information slip."

Zabini nodded. "The Malfoy Family education has finally yielded results."

Draco glared at him. "You'd better be useful tonight."

After dinner, Crabbe and Goyle were shoved into the dormitory. The door was locked, and Draco checked it twice himself.

Crabbe shouted from inside the door, "What if someone says they have cake?"

Draco's temple twitched. "Treat it as if they're trying to kill you."

Goyle asked again, "What about pasties?"

Allen passed by the door. "Even more dangerous."

There was complete silence inside the door.

After eight o'clock, the entrance to the Dungeon opened. Two burly figures walked in—one was Crabbe, the other Goyle—but their footsteps were slightly lighter than usual.

The needle in Pansy's hand stopped. Zabini's cup blocked half his face, and Nott's pen tip rested on his notebook.

Draco, sitting on the sofa, looked up. "Why are you out?"

The fake Crabbe spoke vaguely. "Hungry."

The fake Goyle immediately followed up, "I'm hungry too."

Draco nearly laughed out loud. He stood up and walked toward the dormitory. "Follow me. There are few people in the Common Room; being stupid will be conspicuous."

The two followed.

In the shadows of the corner, Allen sat in an armchair with a book spread on his lap, his fingertips tapping on the spine.

The outer layer of magic from the Polyjuice Potion wrapped around the two. The body shape was correct, but the rhythm had changed. Harry's magic carried the stinging sensation of the scar, while Ron's magic was scattered, like a loose thread on an old sweater.

Allen closed his eyes.

The cats have entered the snake's nest.

In the dormitory, Draco closed the door but didn't lock it. Several letters from home were spread out on the table, with the Malfoy Family silver-green wax seal on top.

The fake Crabbe's gaze immediately drifted over, while the fake Goyle scanned the corner, as if looking for the real Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco pushed a plate of cold biscuits from the drawer. "Aren't you hungry?"

Harry didn't move. Ron stared at the biscuits, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he restrained himself.

Draco sneered inwardly; the real Crabbe would eat first and then ask if it was poisoned.

"What, not hungry anymore?"

The fake Crabbe rubbed his stomach. "A little."

"Everyone in the Common Room is talking about Potter today, yet you have the mood to come out."

The fake Goyle immediately chimed in, "Potter?"

Draco leaned back against the bedpost. "The Chosen One who can speak Parseltongue. The whole school saw him hissing at a snake. Finch-Fletchley fell the next day; it's normal for others to suspect him."

The fake Crabbe's voice dropped. "Do you think he is the Heir of Slytherin?"

Draco's fingertips gripped his cuffs. "I don't know who the Heir of Slytherin is. The real Heir of Slytherin wouldn't tell anyone their name."

The fake Crabbe pressed on, "But your father must know."

Draco sneered. "My father wouldn't talk to children about events from fifty years ago. Adults talk about the Board of Governors, about school safety, and whether Dumbledore can control Hogwarts."

The fake Goyle interjected, "So your father knows about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Draco shot him a sideways glance. "You have more questions than usual today."

Ron, under the guise of Goyle, got stuck. "I just want to know."

Draco stared at him for a moment, until Harry stepped on Ron's foot, before he spoke. "My father hopes the purging happens, but that doesn't mean he knows who is doing it, understand? Hoping for rain and being able to summon rain are two different things."

Outside the door, Zabini nearly laughed out loud.

Nott wrote in the shadows: Draco is stable, Ron is too eager.

The fake Crabbe changed direction. "But you said before that the school would become clean again."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I've said a lot of things. Do you ever remember them?"

Harry was stumped.

Draco continued, "Things about purging Muggle-born students are said by the upperclassmen every day. Flint says it worse than I do; if you want to hear it, go ask him."

The fake Goyle immediately waved his hand. "Not asking."

Draco mentally made a note for Allen; pushing Flint out was indeed useful.

Harry was silent for a moment. "Then, how long ago was the Chamber of Secrets opened last time?"

The words were on the tip of Draco's tongue, but he was thrown off by the question. "Fifty years ago."

The moment he said it, his heart sank.

The fake Crabbe's eyes lit up, and the fake Goyle also looked at him.

Draco sneered immediately. "The whole school is spreading it like crazy; even the second years know. You two haven't even heard of this, have you?"

Harry said in a low voice, "We've heard it."

Draco walked up to them. "I'd like to ask you, why are you suddenly concerned about the Chamber of Secrets tonight? Usually, it's a pain to even get you to memorize Expelliarmus."

Ron said hurriedly, "We were just..."

Harry cut him off. "Just heard it from others."

Draco waved his hand. "Get out. Don't ask stupid questions in my room. And another thing, don't eat anything others give you. There are few people during the holidays; if something happens, no one will bail you out."

Harry and Ron paused simultaneously. This sounded like a warning, yet it also fit Draco's habit of lecturing Crabbe and Goyle.

Not daring to stay long, the two turned and left.

When the door opened, the corridor was empty. On the armchair, only a closed book remained.

Harry and Ron passed through the Common Room. Pansy looked up for a moment, then lowered her head to continue her embroidery. Zabini was still chatting with a third-year, and Nott tucked his small notebook into his pocket.

After the entrance to the Dungeon closed, the real Crabbe and the real Goyle poked their heads out of the dormitory.

Crabbe looked full of grievance. "Where are my biscuits?"

Draco saw their real faces and felt a complex emotion. "If you eat anything randomly again, I'll hand all your snacks over to Professor Snape."

Goyle asked seriously, "Will the Professor eat them?"

Zabini finally laughed out loud, and Pansy lowered her head and coughed.

Allen walked out from behind the door on the other side and took back the book. "One mistake."

Draco's face looked unpleasant. "Fifty years ago."

Nott nodded. "They caught it."

Allen looked at him. "You followed it up by saying it was a school rumor, so it's not a big problem."

Draco frowned. "How 'not big' is it?"

"Enough for them to continue suspecting you, but not enough for them to convict you."

Zabini commented, "Perfect Malfoy-style safety."

Draco couldn't be bothered with him. "Will they find out about my father?"

"They will suspect, but they can't find out for now."

Nott opened his small notebook. "Granger will investigate the old case from fifty years ago and Myrtle; she was already investigating it."

Allen nodded. "Let her investigate. The more accurate her investigation, the closer she gets to the Basilisk. Before she gets close to the Basilisk, she will first prove Harry's innocence."

Draco looked toward the entrance to the Dungeon. "You're letting them lead the way again."

Allen put away the parchment. "They are already in the lead."

In the abandoned bathroom on the second floor, Hermione stood guard by the cauldron. When Harry and Ron rushed in, the Polyjuice Potion was wearing off.

Harry leaned against the wall. "Malfoy doesn't know who the Heir of Slytherin is, but he said the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened was fifty years ago."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Fifty years ago, Myrtle died. The clues are connected."

Ron covered his face as it changed back. "He also said Lucius hopes the purging happens. Lucius definitely has a problem."

Hermione stuffed her notes into a book. "Let's go first; we'll check old records tomorrow."

In the shadows of the sink, a black diary lay silently. On the cover, a spot of ink retreated into the crevice.

In the Dungeon, Allen suddenly looked up.

In the Portable Space, the Void raised its head, its silver vertical pupils aimed toward the second floor.

Two clusters of abnormal magic quickly moved away from Slytherin. The outer shell of the Polyjuice Potion peeled away, revealing the source fluctuations of Harry and Ron.

The test was over.

Just as Allen was about to withdraw his perception, the golden patterns on the north side lit up, and water churned deep within the walls. Beside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch emitted a crisp sound for the third time.

He looked toward the second floor, the sleepiness in his eyes completely gone.

The diary was starting to get anxious.