28: Chapter 28 Nott's Intelligence Value

The Library was quieter than the Common Room.

This suited Allen Potter well.

In the Slytherin Dungeon, there was always someone talking. Draco cared about face, Pansy cared about attitude, and Crabbe and Goyle cared about food. After Flint fell, life for the lower years became much easier, but when people were idle, they loved to pry.

Allen Potter did not like being pried into.

He had no classes in the afternoon, so he avoided Draco and went to a corner of the Library alone. The desk was against the wall, with tall bookshelves on the left and Madam Pince's counter visible on the right. It wasn't a great spot, but its advantage was that no one wanted to sit there.

He spread out his handwritten excerpts of "a brief history of spatial magic" and placed a copy of "Basic Defense Against the Dark Arts Theory" on top of them.

One had to commit to the disguise.

For a first-year student to be flipping through a book on Spatial Magic every day was too conspicuous. Tucking in a book on defense theory could at least be explained away as being "timid and afraid of death."

Being timid and afraid of death was not shameful.

At Hogwarts, the daring were usually the ones sent to the Hospital Wing.

Allen Potter read two pages, and sleepiness began to creep up on him. He used his quill to cross out an incorrect statement on the parchment.

"Spatial Folding is not the displacement of objects, but the compression of the distance between two points."

The person who wrote this book knew a little, but not much.

Just as he finished writing, someone sat down across from him.

Allen Potter didn't look up.

There weren't many people in the Slytherin first year who could sit down quietly without talking nonsense first.

Theodore Nott.

Nott placed a copy of "The Application of Counter-Curses in Defense" on the table. The corners of the book were severely worn, and the borrowing card bore the names of three previous upper-year students.

He sat very steadily and didn't exchange pleasantries.

This was more comfortable than Draco.

Before Draco sat down, he usually had to make sure the whole world knew he was sitting down.

The two of them read their respective books.

After ten minutes, Allen Potter turned a page, and his finger stopped.

Nott's book had a thin piece of paper poking out from the edge, with a few ancient runic symbols written on it. It wasn't course material; it belonged to the framework of counter-curses that only upper-year students would encounter.

Nott was also studying ahead.

Allen Potter didn't ask.

To ask was to admit he had seen it.

Nott spoke first: "That sentence you corrected is incomplete."

Allen Potter's quill tip paused.

Nott didn't look at him, just turned a page of his own book: "Compressing the distance between two points can only explain short-range movement. True folding must also consider anchor points. Otherwise, the object will be trapped in the middle."

Allen Potter finally looked at him.

"You've read about Spatial Magic?"

"A little," Nott said.

"A little?"

"There are some old books in my father's study."

This was said very lightly, but it was enough.

The Nott family was not an ordinary pure-blood family. His father was deeply involved with certain old names. No one in Slytherin said it explicitly, but everyone understood.

When Draco boasted about his father, he liked to lift his chin.

When Nott mentioned his father, only dry facts remained.

Allen Potter added a line to his parchment: Anchor point stability determines folding safety.

Nott took a look and didn't correct him again.

This was even more interesting.

He wasn't here to show off, nor was he here to undermine him. He was just confirming one thing—that Allen Potter could understand.

Allen Potter capped his quill.

"What do you want to say?"

Nott turned a page: "I don't want to say too much."

"Then why sit here?"

"It's quiet here."

"There are many quiet spots in the Library."

"Other spots are occupied."

Allen Potter looked at the area nearby where three tables were empty.

Nott added: "People will come over to ask questions."

That was true.

If Draco found him, he would nine times out of ten ask what Spatial Magic was for. Crabbe would ask if dinner could be conjured early. Goyle would seriously consider if he could conjure himself into the kitchen.

Allen Potter lowered his head to his book again.

Nott also continued reading.

Madam Pince passed by from a distance and stared at them for two seconds. Two Slytherin first-years reading quietly, not tearing pages, not eating, not arguing.

She was very satisfied.

The next second, Draco's voice came from the direction of the corridor.

"Allen Potter?"

Allen Potter didn't move.

Nott's page-turning motion didn't stop either.

Draco entered the Library with Crabbe and Goyle. As soon as the three of them appeared, Madam Pince's face fell.

"Mr. Malfoy, the Library is not the Great Hall."

Draco stopped in his tracks: "I'm not eating anything."

Crabbe looked down at the paper bag in his hand.

Goyle casually stuffed his paper bag into his robe.

Madam Pince saw it.

"Take it out."

Goyle looked at Draco.

Draco closed his eyes: "Give it to her."

Goyle reluctantly handed over the paper bag. Inside were two pumpkin pasties.

After Madam Pince took it, Crabbe whispered: "Will she give it back?"

Draco gritted his teeth: "No."

Goyle lowered his head: "Then she's the one who gained."

Allen Potter moved his book up half an inch to block his face.

Nott's quill tip paused.

Draco walked to the table and frowned when he saw Nott sitting across from Allen Potter.

"What are you doing?"

Nott said: "Reading."

Crabbe looked at the tabletop: "It's true."

Goyle nodded: "So many words."

Draco didn't want to deal with them. He looked at Allen Potter: "I've been looking all over for you."

"Something up?"

"Flint came out of Snape's office today with his hands covered in slug slime."

"And?"

Draco held back, but couldn't resist: "He saw me."

"And then?"

"He didn't dare say anything."

Allen Potter turned a page: "Congratulations."

Draco was not satisfied with this reaction: "Is that all you're going to say?"

"What else do you want to hear?"

Crabbe thought about it seriously: "You could say Flint smells bad."

Goyle added: "Slug slime should smell really bad."

Madam Pince looked up from behind the counter: "Quiet!"

The three of them shut up.

Nott looked up at this moment and looked at Draco: "Flint won't trouble the first years again, at least not this month."

Draco looked at him: "How are you so sure?"

"He's been suspended from Quidditch training for two weeks. People on the team are already dissatisfied. If he causes any more trouble, Flint won't even be able to keep his position as captain."

Draco was stunned.

He hadn't heard this news yet.

Allen Potter also paused for a beat.

Nott's source of information was more detailed than imagined.

Just because he didn't talk usually didn't mean he wasn't listening.

Draco sat down and lowered his voice: "Who told you?"

"No one told me," Nott said. "When the Quidditch team members were borrowing tactical books, they argued behind the bookshelves."

Crabbe whispered: "You can argue behind the bookshelves too?"

Goyle said: "The books will hear the voices."

Draco glared at them, and when he looked at Nott again, his attitude had changed a bit.

Slytherin respected useful people.

Even if they didn't admit it out loud.

Allen Potter noted down that piece of news.

Flint's loss of power was faster than expected. There were cracks within the upper years, which was a good thing for the lower years. More importantly, Nott could sift valuable information out of gossip.

This kind of person was not suitable to be a lackey.

He was suitable to be a secret asset.

Draco still wanted to ask, but Madam Pince was already walking over carrying a stack of books.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you continue to hold a meeting, get out."

Draco's face was a bit flushed.

Allen Potter finished for him: "We're leaving right away."

Madam Pince looked at him: "Mr. Potter, you may stay. You have been very quiet."

Draco's expression became even uglier.

Crabbe whispered: "She likes quiet people."

Goyle said: "Then we have no chance."

Draco stood up: "Let's go."

Before leaving, he looked at Allen Potter: "Back to the Common Room before dinner."

Allen Potter didn't answer.

Draco was used to it and left with his two lackeys. When Crabbe passed the counter, he glanced at the confiscated paper bag, but after a glare from Madam Pince, he lowered his head and walked faster.

The Library was quiet again.

Nott closed his book.

"Malfoy is listening to you."

"He is listening to useful words."

"Not much difference."

"There is a big difference," Allen Potter said. "The former is loyalty; the latter is a transaction."

Nott looked at him, and after a few seconds, said: "You distinguish it very clearly."

"Those who can't distinguish will pay the bill."

Nott did not refute it.

He tucked the thin piece of paper covered in ancient runes back into his book.

Allen Potter spoke: "Why tell us about Flint's news?"

"He is in the way."

Allen Potter looked up.

This was what he had said to Zabini before.

Nott had heard it, or Zabini had relayed it.

News in Slytherin flowed faster than water, it's just that no one admitted it.

Nott stood up: "Also, there is a problem with Chapter 4 of your 'a brief history of spatial magic'. The author talks about Apparition and Spatial Folding together, which is very misleading."

Allen Potter asked: "You've finished reading it?"

"Flipped through it."

"The old books in your study?"

"Mm."

Nott picked up his book, took two steps, and then stopped.

"Potter."

Allen Potter looked at him.

"You are not mediocre."

This sentence landed very lightly, without flattery or threat.

Allen Potter did not deny it.

Denying would be too fake.

Admitting it would be too stupid.

He only said: "You aren't as unsociable as the rumors say either."

Nott replied: "Rumors are convenient."

After speaking, he walked toward the borrowing counter.

Allen Potter sat in his original seat, pulled out the piece of parchment from earlier, and tucked it into his book. The moment the book closed, the paper had already entered his Portable Space.

The Void looked up within the space, its silver vertical pupils staring at the new piece of paper, its tail resting beside the cracked pocket watch.

Allen Potter reopened "a brief history of spatial magic" and crossed out a note next to the title of Chapter 4.

Theodore Nott.

Silent, sharp, with intelligence channels, and knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Harder to recruit than Draco, and also more suitable than Draco for certain things.

On the Slytherin chessboard, there was one more quiet piece.