155: Chapter 155 Lupin's First Glance

"He looked at you just now."

After the train started moving again, the first thing Draco said was filled with anger. He pushed the chocolate Lupin had left behind to the corner of the table, as if the thing would bite.

Allen was still leaning against the window, a book resting on his lap, too lazy to raise his eyelids.

"Many people look at me."

"Don't try to shut me up with that kind of talk." Draco lowered his voice, his finger tapping on the tabletop, "That Professor stopped at the door and looked at your cuffs. It wasn't just a casual glance."

Nott didn't interject. He turned his old book to a blank page and wrote a name with a pencil: Remus Lupin.

Zabini looked at the words, his voice softening: "Is he also in the old case involving the Black Family?"

Nott nodded: "There are few public reports, but The Potters had four close friends back then. Black, Peter, Lupin, and James himself. Peter is dead, Black is in prison, and Lupin disappeared."

Draco's expression worsened: "So Dumbledore invited Black's old friend into the school? Has his brain been kicked by a Cornish Pixie?"

"Or perhaps he understands Black best," Zabini said. "The Ministry of Magic sends Dementors, and Dumbledore lets an old friend in; both sides are placing eyes inside the school."

Allen opened his eyes and looked at the retreating back of the old robe outside the crack of the door.

When Lupin walked, his right foot landed lighter than his left, as if he was used to avoiding an old injury. The hem of his robe had been mended three times, the cuffs were worn, and his wand was hidden in his right sleeve, in a position convenient for drawing. Just now, when the Dementor passed by, there had been a lingering warmth of defensive magic on him—weak, but steady.

He wasn't unaffected; he just controlled it well.

Allen took "Fantastic Beasts Danger Rating" out of his Portable Space, his movements hidden by his schoolbag. He flipped the pages to the Werewolf entry.

Draco saw the title, and his face instantly stiffened.

"Werewolf?"

Nott stopped his pencil.

Zabini leaned back, and after a long while, said: "If it's true, this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class will at least be more useful than Lockhart's."

Draco glared at him: "Your focus is always off."

"My focus is spot on," Zabini spread his hands. "That one last year could only sign autographs; this one can at least drive away Dementors."

Allen stared at the book page without saying a word.

Below the Werewolf entry was written: Full moon transformation, infectious bite, aconite and wolfsbane related potions, long-term social exclusion. There were also marginal notes about the revision of the Ministry of Magic's Werewolf registration system fifty years ago.

He closed the book and tucked it into his Portable Space.

"Don't say anything yet."

Draco gritted his teeth: "Of course I can't say anything. If this gets out, the whole school will explode, and Father will write a letter to drag me home from Hogwarts."

Nott wrote four words next to Lupin's name: Old Friend, Werewolf, Professor, Dumbledore.

He looked up: "How are you sure?"

"The cuffs."

Allen didn't explain too much.

When Lupin passed the door, there was a faint medicinal stain on the inside of his old robe's cuffs. It wasn't the smell of a standard Potion Class; it was closer to the bitter scent of a mixture of wolfsbane, moonstone, and calming herbs. Snape often had similar residues on him, but purer. The medicinal smell on Lupin had been masked by his old clothes and the chocolate, but the edges were still detectable.

Plus, Peter's reaction.

That was enough.

The compartment door was knocked upon. Pansy came again, this time without the lower-year students behind her. After entering, she looked at the chocolate on the corner of the table, then at Draco.

"I heard Potter fainted."

Draco instinctively wanted to laugh, but remembering Allen's words, he forced it back down.

"So what if he fainted? The Dementors got on the train, and a lot of people were scared."

Pansy looked suspicious: "You didn't mock him?"

Zabini leaned against the seat back: "Draco has grown up today."

"Shut up."

Pansy looked at Allen: "Do you guys know something?"

"Go back to your compartment." Allen opened his book, "The Professor will come to patrol; don't let people think Slytherin is roaming the train."

Pansy opened her mouth, then finally threw a piece of chocolate into Draco's lap.

"Your complexion is terrible too, don't try to tough it out."

After saying this, she turned and left.

Draco gripped the chocolate, his expression complex: "What does she mean?"

Zabini chuckled.

Nott covered his face with the old book, only revealing one sentence: "She means she's concerned about you."

Draco stuffed the chocolate into his pocket, like he was stuffing a hot knut.

Allen didn't participate. His consciousness was currently in his Portable Space.

The three layers of false shells outside Peter's cage were stable, but just now, when the Dementor was close to the carriage door, a crack appeared in the second layer of emotional feedback. The crack was very shallow and had already been automatically repaired by the space.

The void tail tip pressed against that spot, and the silver eyes lifted.

"Dementors can touch overflowing fear."

Hearing this, Peter almost knelt down.

Allen gave him three seconds.

Peter said urgently: "Remus will recognize Black, he might even recognize me! If he sees the rat, if he hears Black tell the truth, he will investigate!"

"You are here."

"But Black doesn't know! He will go to Gryffindor to find Ron, to find Harry, to find Scabbers! If he can't find me, he will go even crazier!"

"Then let him look."

Peter's face twisted into a ball, and then he was forced back into silence by the seal.

Allen wrote on the file: Due to the lack of a target, Black's actions may deviate from the original line. Need to guide him not to touch Peter prematurely.

Draco noticed Allen was distracted again and tapped the table twice.

"Did you fall asleep?"

"No."

"Then tell me, what should we do after school starts? Dementors, Black, a Professor who might be related to the old case. Also, Father told me to stay away from you, Snape is definitely still watching you, and Granger hasn't given up on investigating the silver light."

Nott put away his pencil: "And the Ministry of Magic."

Zabini added: "And the pure-blood circles. Since Black broke out, my mother has already received three tea party invitations. Everyone wants to know what others are afraid of."

Draco looked at him: "Will your mother go?"

"Of course," Zabini closed the candy box, "She picks husbands from others' fears, and news from others' slips of the tongue."

Draco was choked by this.

Allen closed his book.

"After school starts, the first thing: don't go near the Dementors."

"Do you even need to say that?"

"Second, don't talk about Lupin."

Draco's hand paused.

Allen looked at the three of them: "Who he is, keep it in the files for now. If it gets out, it will only force Dumbledore to protect him, and it will also make the Professors investigate who found out."

Nott nodded.

Zabini also put away his casual attitude: "I will write to my mother, telling her only to listen to who mentions Lupin at tea parties, not to ask proactively."

Draco held back for a long time: "Then what about me?"

"In public, insult Black, insult the Ministry of Magic, but don't insult Lupin."

"Why?"

"It's normal for a Malfoy to hate a poor Professor. It's not normal for a Malfoy to precisely avoid a poor Professor."

Draco's face turned even sourer: "I thank you for preserving the Malfoy Family's stupid image."

"It's useful."

Zabini finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Nott wrote on the side: Draco, publicly insulted the wrong target.

Draco snatched the paper: "You dare write this?"

Nott pulled the paper back, his voice flat: "The files need to be accurate."

The atmosphere in the compartment relaxed a bit, but was soon pressed back down by footsteps in the corridor.

When Lupin returned, he had already finished handing out chocolate to the previous carriages. He stopped at the door of Allen's compartment, knocked, and pushed it open a crack.

"Are you all okay?"

Draco immediately put on a Malfoy-style arrogant face: "We didn't faint, Professor."

Lupin looked at him and nodded: "That's very good. Dementors make people recall terrible things; chocolate can replenish some."

Zabini picked up the piece on the corner of the table: "Thank you, Professor."

Lupin's gaze shifted to Allen.

Allen sat by the window, his book pressed on his lap, like a student whose sleep had been disturbed.

"Mr. Potter."

Draco's shoulders tensed. Nott's pencil stopped.

Allen raised his eyes: "Professor Lupin."

"You look very pale," Lupin said, "If you are not feeling well, you can go to the Hospital Wing after arrival."

"I'm just sleepy."

Lupin looked at him for a while, his gaze falling on his cuffs, then returning to his face.

"Sleepiness is sometimes a defensive reaction. Especially near Dementors."

Draco immediately spoke up: "He's usually sleepy too."

Zabini nodded along: "It's been like that since first year, Professor. He sleeps in class, sleeps while eating, and sleeps in the Common Room."

Nott added a final blow: "Except for Potion Class. Professor Snape will deduct points."

After listening, a hint of gentleness appeared on Lupin's tired face.

"I will keep that in mind."

He didn't ask further and closed the door as he left.

After the door closed, Draco cursed in a low voice: "What will he keep in mind? Remembering you sleeping?"

Allen looked at the door.

"Remembering that I can sleep near Dementors."

Once these words fell, the three people in the compartment stopped talking.

Dementors made Harry faint, made upper-year students scream, made Draco's hands shake, but made Allen sleepy.

This contrast was too obvious.

Nott closed his old book and tapped the cover with his pencil.

"He will be suspicious."

"Let him be suspicious of the sleepiness."

Allen closed his eyes, his voice dropping: "Don't let him be suspicious of the Portable Space."

The train passed through the rain, and Hogwarts drew closer. Outside the window, the mountain shadows were submerged in the gray sky; the Castle had not yet appeared, but the golden patterns on the north side of the Portable Space had already reacted.

Beside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch rang softly.

The void tail tip left Peter's cage and pressed onto the new page in the third-year file.

Remus Lupin.

Werewolf, Old Friend, Professor, knows Peter.

Allen added the last line in his consciousness.

The two-way probing had begun.