60: Chapter 60 The Hidden Chess Pieces Amidst the Melting Winter Snow

The Christmas holidays ended, and the Slytherin Dungeon was once again packed with trunks and complaints.

Pansy tossed her scarf onto the back of her chair.

"I heard the Gryffindors are still digging through books."

Draco flipped through the letter Lucius had sent.

"What else could they do if they don't read? The Weasleys can't rely on their brains to win points."

Crabbe held up a Chocolate Frog box.

"They're looking up that Nicolas... something."

Goyle added.

"Flamel."

Draco looked up.

"You two, don't mention that name outside."

Allen leaned against the fireplace with a second-hand Alchemy book spread across his lap.

"And keep it down in here, too."

Pansy looked at him.

"You know about it too?"

"Of course he knows."

Draco spoke up first.

Nott walked over from the bookshelf and placed a scroll of parchment by Allen's hand.

"Granger borrowed three Alchemy books, one History of Magic book, and a character index after returning to school."

Allen turned a page.

"She's almost pieced it all together."

Draco frowned.

"Are you really planning to let them keep digging?"

"The harder they dig, the busier the Professors will be."

Nott sat down and added, "Snape hasn't been watching you today."

Draco turned his head immediately.

"Right, he only looked at you twice in Potion Class."

Crabbe recalled earnestly.

"Usually it's five times."

Goyle nodded.

"Sometimes six."

Draco pressed his temples.

"Why do you keep track of that?"

"Because I can't eat when he looks over."

Crabbe answered righteously.

Allen closed his book.

"Snape doesn't have the energy to worry about me right now."

Pansy asked.

"Why?"

Nott unrolled the parchment.

"Quirrell's class has gotten worse. He gets even the textbook page numbers wrong. When a second-year asked about Red Caps, he answered with Vampire."

Goyle frowned.

"That's pretty far off."

"Both are dangerous."

Crabbe gave his conclusion.

Draco couldn't be bothered with them.

"Did Snape notice?"

"He did."

Nott tapped the paper.

"After lunch, he stopped Quirrell in the corridor and asked where he had been on Halloween night."

Pansy sat up straighter.

"Did he get an answer?"

"Quirrell said he didn't remember anything after he fainted."

Draco sneered.

"That wouldn't even fool a Weasley."

Allen pushed his cup aside.

"It doesn't matter who he can fool; what matters is that Snape is willing to spend time watching him."

Draco looked at Allen.

"So you're safe."

"For now."

Pansy couldn't help but ask.

"What exactly are you guys guarding against?"

Draco stopped her.

"Don't ask."

Pansy frowned.

"I need to know if I'm going to get implicated."

Allen looked up at her.

"If you don't wander around at night, don't go to the Third Floor, and don't chase after Gryffindors, trouble won't find you."

Pansy paused for a moment and refolded her scarf.

"Fine, I get it."

A log in the fireplace collapsed, the firelight flickered, and a few more people entered the doorway.

Flint walked in front, still wearing his Quidditch robes, his expression grim.

Draco folded the letter.

"What's he here for again?"

Crabbe stuffed the Chocolate Frog into his pocket.

"Looks like he's looking for trouble."

Allen didn't move.

"Sit down."

Flint walked over to the first-years, his gaze sweeping over Draco and landing on Allen.

"Potter, the Common Room isn't just for you."

Draco stood up.

"What do you want to say?"

"I'm talking to Potter, Malfoy."

"If you're looking for him, you're looking for me."

Several first-years nearby looked up.

Zabini sat in the distance, his book frozen on a half-turned page.

Nott didn't speak, just tucked the parchment into his sleeve.

Flint's face darkened further.

"After a Christmas break, have you forgotten who the upperclassmen are?"

Allen placed his book on his lap.

"Are you trying to collect protection fees again?"

Flint's follower behind him glanced at him.

Flint bit out his words.

"Don't talk nonsense."

"Then you must be trying to regain your authority as Captain."

Flint's face tightened.

"Quidditch team matters are not for first-years to interfere with."

Draco immediately retorted.

"You lost to Gryffindor and cost the house points, so it's definitely not our place to interfere."

Flint turned to him.

"Don't think your father can reach into the locker room."

Draco was about to speak, but Allen raised his hand and pressed the letter back onto the table.

"Don't drag Mr. Lucius into this kind of dispute."

Draco shut his mouth, but his eyes remained fixed on Flint's face.

Flint curled his lip.

"You're quite good at acting disciplined."

Allen looked at him.

"Have you finished counting the Fire Salamander blood that Professor Snape asked you to?"

As soon as these words fell, the Common Room went quiet.

Crabbe whispered to Goyle.

"What happens if he hasn't finished?"

"More points deducted, I suppose."

Goyle answered just as seriously.

Allen didn't look at them, only at Flint.

"If you haven't finished, you should be in the Potion storeroom right now."

Flint stared at him.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm reminding you."

"Marcus, let it go."

The follower behind him spoke up first.

Allen picked up his book again.

"You can also keep standing here and let everyone remember again why you were suspended from training for two weeks."

The fireplace firelight reflected on the green walls; no one in the Common Room replied.

This was the only truly quiet place tonight.

It was so quiet that even the changes in Flint's expression could be seen clearly by everyone.

Draco leaned back into his chair.

"Or, you could go do your detention."

Zabini spoke up at this moment as well.

"The training list still needs to be handed to Professor Snape tomorrow."

Nott added.

"The House Cup isn't over yet."

Flint swept his gaze over this circle of first-years and finally looked at Allen again.

"Do you really think you can control Slytherin?"

Allen opened his book.

"No one controls Slytherin."

Flint's face was cold.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Stopping a losing business."

Flint paused for a few seconds, but eventually tugged at his robes.

"Let's go."

The sound of footsteps at the door faded away, and the Common Room came back to life.

Draco sat down and let out a breath.

"He'll look for trouble sooner or later."

"He doesn't dare to now."

Pansy looked up.

"How do you know?"

Nott answered for Allen.

"Because he can't afford to lose a second time."

Zabini closed his book and walked over.

"You made him back down just now."

Draco spoke first.

"He felt guilty himself."

Zabini looked at Allen.

"Even if he felt guilty, someone had to point it out."

Allen didn't respond to this.

Pansy put her quill back on the table.

"If upperclassmen come for money in the future, should I come to you?"

Draco frowned.

"What do you mean, come to him?"

Pansy retorted.

"Should I come to you, then?"

Draco lifted his chin.

"Coming to me is fine too."

Crabbe nodded immediately.

"Come to Draco."

Goyle thought for a moment.

"It's faster to come to Allen."

Draco glared at him.

"Whose side are you on, anyway?"

Allen closed his book.

"It doesn't matter who you come to. Tell Draco first, Draco tells me, Nott checks the reason, Zabini watches the wind, and Crabbe and Goyle keep their mouths shut."

Crabbe was stunned.

"We're only responsible for keeping our mouths shut?"

Goyle followed up quickly.

"For how long?"

Draco couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"If you can manage that, it'll count as a contribution."

Pansy looked at Allen.

"You've got it all arranged quite smoothly."

"Saves trouble."

Zabini tapped the back of the chair lightly.

"With this, all the lower-years will lean towards your side."

Draco immediately corrected him.

"Towards our side."

Nott turned his head to look at him.

"Are you sure?"

Draco paused.

"At least in name."

Allen stood up and tucked the parchment into the pages of his book.

"You can have the name; just don't give me the trouble."

Draco stood up as well.

"Do you really want to sleep in the back forever?"

"It's too noisy in the front."

Nott handed him a new piece of paper.

"Then, do the people in the back want to see this?"

Allen took it and glanced at it.

"Snape canceled the first-year dormitory inspection tonight and is instead patrolling near the Defense Against the Dark Arts office."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"He really is targeting Quirrell."

Zabini nodded.

"This is a good thing for us."

Pansy looked at Allen.

"Then you don't have to pretend to be so mediocre anymore?"

"Keep pretending."

Draco frowned.

"Wasn't five points deducted in Transfiguration Class yesterday enough?"

"Five points is better than being targeted."

Nott nodded.

"That's true."

Draco looked at him.

"Don't always help him talk."

"I only help those who save me trouble."

Crabbe rubbed his stomach.

"So, are we going to the Great Hall now?"

Goyle's eyes lit up.

"There's roast beef for dinner."

Draco turned to look at Allen.

"Are you going?"

"Yes."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

"At least you won't sleep through dinner today."

Allen walked out.

"Don't be happy too soon."

Pansy watched the group get up and suddenly smiled.

"Now it really looks like a group."

Draco straightened his cuffs.

"We were always Slytherins."

Zabini followed slowly.

"There are many kinds of Slytherins."

Nott walked beside Allen.

"This kind is less likely to lose out."

Allen turned his head to look at him.

"Remember that."

The corridor leading to the Great Hall became lively again.

The sound of students talking poured down from the stairwells layer by layer.

Snape's black robes swept past from the other end, not even stopping, heading straight for the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

Draco saw it and said in a low voice.

"He didn't look at you."

"He saw me."

Nott added.

"Quirrell probably won't have an easy night."

Zabini said.

"Then let the Professors be busy with their own affairs."

Pansy asked.

"What should we be busy with?"

Draco answered for Allen first.

"Don't talk nonsense, don't run around, don't write letters."

Crabbe added a sentence.

"And eat."

Goyle nodded solemnly.

"That's the most important thing."

Before entering the Great Hall, Allen tucked the book back under his arm.

"Remember one thing."

Draco looked at him.

"What?"

Allen looked toward the Slytherin long table.

"This year, it shouldn't be us standing at the forefront."

Draco didn't refute.

Nott tightened his hold on the parchment.

Zabini scanned the surroundings and sat down first.

Pansy returned to the girls' side.

Crabbe and Goyle were already eyeing their dinner plates.

At the Gryffindor long table, Harry and the other two were huddled together talking in low voices.

The fake Scabbers in Ron's pocket poked its head out, then shrank back in.

Allen sat down and picked up the pumpkin juice.

Draco asked from the side.

"So now, is everything going according to your plan?"

"For now."

Draco stared at him for a moment.

"Can't you say something that makes people feel at ease?"

Allen opened his book.

"I can."

Draco waited for the rest.

"Don't do anything stupid, and you'll live safely."

Draco picked up his knife and fork.

"I'll write this to my father."

"Don't write my name."

"Don't worry, I'm not that stupid."

Deep within the Portable Space, the void curled around the ebony box, its tail tip pressing against several pieces of parchment.

Peter leaned against the cage, unable to make a sound.

The blue light of the cracked pocket watch shrank into the crack of the box.

The winter snow began to melt.

Hogwarts became noisy again.

The first-year's hidden pieces were firmly placed.