147: Chapter 147 Summer Vacation Agreement

"My father did something stupid."

The moment the train left Hogsmeade, Draco threw this sentence into the compartment.

The pie in Crabbe's hand stopped at his mouth, and Goyle turned his head to look out the window, pretending to be very interested in the clouds. Pansy had been tidying her ribbons, but upon hearing this, her hand slipped, and the ribbon got tangled in a button.

Nott sat in the corner, his fingertips pressing against the pages of his book. "You're finally willing to say it out loud."

Draco stared at Allen sitting in the seat opposite him. "You've been waiting for me to say it?"

Allen leaned against the train window, an empty trunk placed beside his legs. "It's good that you know."

These four words sounded worse than a reprimand.

Draco's chest heaved twice as he pinched the silver button on his cuff, pulling it off and pressing it back on. "My father stuffed the diary into the Weasley Family, pushed the Board of Governors to the forefront, and tried to force Dumbledore out. In the end, Ginny survived, the diary was destroyed, Dumbledore returned, and now the Malfoy Family has to donate money to apologize and give up a seat on the Board of Governors."

Pansy pulled the tangled ribbon free. "The fact that you can say this is better than at the start of the school year."

"I don't need your evaluation." Draco turned back to glare at her.

Zabini sat by the door, flipping through a magazine with a flashy cover. "But you need to acknowledge reality. Your father lost this game."

Draco's face tightened further. "He will handle it."

"He will," Allen said, eyes closed. "Pay money, concede, cut off responsibility, and continue to preserve the Malfoy name."

Draco was rendered speechless.

Outside the compartment, the sound of students running could be heard, and someone shouted that a Chocolate Frog had fallen into the corridor. The trolley approached from afar, the scent of candy seeping through the door gap. Crabbe endured it again and again, but still looked at Draco.

Draco ignored him.

Goyle whispered, "Can we buy something to eat now?"

Pansy tossed her money pouch to him. "Buy it, and don't speak."

Goyle stood up immediately, and Crabbe squeezed out after him. After the compartment door closed, the remaining people inside grew quieter.

Draco looked at Allen. "Can I write to you during the summer vacation?"

Allen opened his eyes. "Yes."

Draco let out half a sigh of relief.

"Use a common owl," Allen added. "No signature, don't mention the Chamber of Secrets, don't mention the diary, don't mention details about Lucius, don't mention Peter, don't mention Black, don't mention Dumbledore."

Draco's half-sigh got stuck in his throat. "Then what do I write about? The weather?"

Zabini held up his magazine. "The weather works well, and tea parties work well too. For example, 'The manor garden is too damp today' can mean someone at home is questioning you. 'The peacock is molting' can mean your father is in a bad mood."

Pansy couldn't help but laugh. "The peacock is molting?"

Draco's face darkened. "The peacocks at Malfoy Manor never molt."

Nott wrote a line on a piece of paper. "This phrase can be used to mean your father is present."

Draco turned his head. "Don't write that down!"

Nott had already folded the paper. "Too late."

Allen took a small slip of paper from his sleeve and pushed it in front of Draco. "Three sets of codes. The first set is for routine checks; write about school, homework, and Quidditch. The second set is for emergencies; use pets and the weather. Don't use the third set unless Lucius makes you hand over all your correspondence."

Draco picked up the paper, his face stiffening as he read. "'The White Peacock isn't eating,' represents that I'm restricted from going out?"

"Reasonable," Zabini nodded. "The peacocks at Malfoy Manor are more noble than many pure-blood families."

Pansy turned her face toward the window, her shoulders shaking slightly.

Draco folded the paper and tucked it into his robes. "I'm asking you seriously. Can I still stay on your side next year?"

The wheels rolled over a joint in the tracks, and the carriage swayed.

Nott's hand stopped on the spine of his book. Zabini stopped flipping through his magazine as well. Pansy looked at Allen without speaking.

Draco held his chin up, but his eyes hid the cracks of an entire year. From the young master who only knew how to invoke his father at the start of the school year, he had turned into someone who could lay his father's defeat out on the table. The price was ugly, but he had shouldered it.

Allen looked at him. "Do you want to be the mouthpiece of the Malfoy Family, or Draco?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "Draco."

"Then don't hand your brain back."

"My father will investigate," Draco lowered his voice. "He will ask if you were involved in the Chamber of Secrets, he will ask why I avoided the second floor in advance, and he will ask why I stayed in the common room the night Dumbledore was dismissed."

"Answer less, say you were sleeping, say you don't know."

"You make it sound easy."

"Because the answers are stupid enough." Allen turned his gaze to the window. "Stupid answers are the safest."

Zabini nodded. "Noble parents are usually more willing to believe their children are stupid, rather than admitting they were deceived by them."

Pansy added, "Especially sons."

Draco held back his anger. He looked down at the silver button on his cuff, his fingers rubbing the edge. "I will be more useful next year."

After saying this, he fell silent himself.

Nott looked up at him. "No need to write that down; it's clear enough."

Zabini closed his magazine. "A Malfoy making a proactive commitment—the second biggest news at Hogwarts this year."

Pansy asked, "What's the first?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart is finally gone."

There was a brief silence in the compartment, then Pansy laughed out loud. Draco turned his face away and cursed under his breath. Crabbe and Goyle just happened to return with candy, completely missing the mood.

Crabbe held up a Chocolate Frog. "Who's gone?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart," Goyle answered for him. "He went to St. Mungo's."

Crabbe thought about it seriously. "Does that mean the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will change?"

Nott closed his book. "According to Hogwarts tradition, it will be worse."

Draco shoved the Chocolate Frog box back into Crabbe's arms. "Don't remind me."

Allen leaned back against the window, the fields outside receding. In the Portable Space, the void disk hovered beside the second-year archives, its tail tip pressing on the first line of the third-year archives. Peter cowered in his cage, and after hearing the word "Black," he hadn't moved again.

The cracked pocket watch was silent.

This silence felt more like a countdown.

Draco put the code paper away and suddenly asked, "Will Harry write to you?"

"Yes."

"Will you reply?"

"Depends on the content."

Pansy looked toward the corridor. "Granger will definitely write."

Zabini chuckled. "She'll probably send a list of questions, from Trolls to silver light, from the Philosopher's Stone to the Chamber of Secrets."

Nott added, "And she'll demand that you don't tamper with her memory."

Allen closed his eyes. "I won't reply to that one."

Draco frowned. "Are you really not afraid of her keeping on investigating?"

"The more she investigates, the more Dumbledore will question her."

"And then what?"

In the reflection of the window, Allen saw a faint light in his eyes, which was quickly suppressed by drowsiness.

"Let them wear each other out."

Draco stared at the reflection and suddenly quieted down.

The train headed south. Hogwarts was left behind, and the Chamber of Secrets, the Basilisk, and the diary were all sealed into the past. But everyone in the compartment knew that the past would only change its face and chase them down.

And the next face is called Sirius Black.