Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

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Meanwhile, the Slytherins had an entirely different reaction. After hearing Hermione's interpretation, they broke into delighted admiration.

"That's proper Slytherin cunning!"

"See? Malfoys know how to handle things!"

"What a legend!"

The group clustered around Malfoy earlier were now praising his 'genius.' None of them had the faintest clue that their so-called mastermind was, at that moment, terrified out of his wits.

"No, this is bad! She's absolutely going to report me! I knew she looked like a snitch!" Malfoy spotted a figure approaching fast.

The little snake was panicking.

His face had turned a ghastly white.

Legs kicking in the air, he screamed as the broom veered sharply again. His body trembled like a leaf in a storm, clearly overwhelmed by what felt like a magical backlash.

"Sorry! Sorry!"

He babbled his apologies the moment he realised who was before him.

Perched quietly at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, the wind tugging at his robes, Ian watched Malfoy with calm, unreadable eyes. The broom hovered just in front of him, clearly guided by his magic.

"I've no interest in your childish pranks," Ian said coolly. But Malfoy, pale and frantic, wasn't convinced by his dismissive tone.

And perhaps rightly so.

From Malfoy's perspective, the timing couldn't have been more ominous. One moment, he'd had a spat with Granger, the next he was hauled skyward and delivered straight to Ian's perch.

It had to be a trap.

"I didn't mean to pick on your little lackey, she started it!" Malfoy tried to explain, practically shaking with fear.

But Ian cut across him without a shred of sympathy.

"What I want to ask about has nothing to do with Hermione. It's this."

He produced a small, smooth crystal orb. Its surface shimmered faintly, reflecting the early afternoon light. Ian's green eyes locked onto Malfoy's, searching.

Malfoy froze.

His usual bluster failed him.

He didn't deny it this time. Not like he had that morning. Perhaps he feared a worse fate if he lied now. But he still dared not speak of where it had truly come from.

Ian noted his silence.

"I know the diary is with you," Ian said softly.

His Mind Perception, a gift honed in the Twilight Realm under the tutelage of ghostly masters, was potent against any witch or wizard with little to no Occlumency.

And Malfoy's mind was an open book.

Ian could see clearly the turmoil, nervous flinches, imagined consequences, even the half-formed lies the boy rehearsed in his thoughts. All of it as visible as ink on parchment.

"I didn't--!" Malfoy had been caught red-handed.

His expression twisted in panic, and he nearly toppled off his broomstick. Frantically, he scanned the skies, as if afraid someone might be watching.

"Hand over the diary, and you won't need to worry about trouble, for yourself or your family," Ian said calmly, his magical senses clearly picking up on Malfoy's inner turmoil.

His words made Malfoy's face contort with conflict.

"You have to promise me that!" Malfoy blurted, clearly struggling between the danger of a cursed Alchemical Artefact and the silent expectations of the pure-blood elite. In the end, like many in his circle, he chose what seemed the safer path.

"Of course." Ian offered a faint, knowing smile and nodded, giving Malfoy just enough reassurance.

Clenching his jaw, Malfoy gripped the edge of the tower and tried to swing himself across from the broomstick to the railing. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he nearly slipped over the edge.

"You see, I've already saved your life once today," Ian said, grabbing Malfoy's robes and yanking him back from the brink, his tone amused as he watched Malfoy's ashen face.

"…"

Truth be told, Malfoy wanted to shout that none of this would've happened if Ian hadn't dragged him up there in the first place. But he dared not say such a thing, forcing a strained smile instead.

"Come on."

After a moment's pause, Malfoy, still visibly shaken, led the way down.

While descending the stairs, he hesitated before asking, "They say you… you killed Harry Potter. Is that true?" His voice was hushed, his expression tense with worry. The rumour clearly weighed on him.

It could be said that affection, however warped, knew no bounds.

"Who told you that nonsense? You'll be giving me names later." Ian gave him a sideways look, and Malfoy immediately fell silent, gulping.

"That thing, I found it at home, tucked away in some forgotten drawer. I thought it was just like Daphne's odd little book, the one that tells stories out of nowhere."

"I never imagined it would be… something so vile." Malfoy quickly shifted the topic, speaking of his own experience.

Clearly, the butterfly effect was already at work.

Daphne's mysterious book about Grindelwald had sparked Malfoy's curiosity, enough to make something meant to appear next term arrive early at Hogwarts.

"So, you do know what it is you've hidden," Ian said as they walked toward the Slytherin common room. His teasing tone made Malfoy flinch visibly.

"I'm not a fool. I can guess… but I daren't say it aloud." Malfoy's voice dropped to a whisper, fear creeping into each syllable.

"You mean the diary you were supposed to give me?" Ian voiced the suspicion he'd had since morning.

Sure enough, Malfoy gave a reluctant nod. "Yes. The diary told me to give it to you. Said the crystal ball it came with held no hexes or hostile magic, it promised it wasn't meant to hurt you."

He was trying desperately to clean up the mess he'd made. Everyone knew the stories whispered around Hogwarts, about what befell those who crossed Ian. Marcus Flint, for example, had vanished from Hogwarts after his family quietly sent him off to Siberia, under the pretense of furthering his education. But everyone knew it was for his own protection.

"You're right, it wasn't aimed at me," Ian admitted. "To be honest, if it had been a trap, I might not have taken such an interest."

They arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, a place Ian had visited several times already when escorting Aurora.

"Open."

Before Malfoy could speak the password, Ian simply commanded it. Just as Malfoy opened his mouth to protest, a low grinding noise echoed in the dim corridor.

The carved stone serpent on the door began to shift.

Instead of repelling them, the door swung open silently, as if it recognised Ian.

Faint light leaked into the corridor, casting long shadows across the greenish glow of the common room.

Class was still in session, so the room was deserted.

"????"

Malfoy blinked in disbelief.

He stared at Ian.

"How did you do that?"

There was suspicion and awe in his tone.

"Perks of making the right friends, Malfoy. You ought to try it sometime, instead of starting rows with everyone you meet." Ian said.

Malfoy looked thoughtful, as though turning over the advice in his head.

"No more distractions, take me to the diary." Ian stepped through the arched doorway and into the common room without waiting.

He moved quickly, following the familiar stone path toward the dormitories.

"Why do you know this place better than I do…" Malfoy muttered under his breath, growing increasingly uneasy. Still, he hurried after Ian and led him into the boys' dormitory.

He pushed open the door.

A wave of rich scents, aged leather, and exotic herbs wafted out. The walls were hung with heavy green velvet embroidered with silver serpents, and elegant, dark wood beds stood in precise rows, each with curtains half-drawn in elegant drapes. The whole room whispered of old wealth and pure-blood pedigree.

Compared to the other Houses, Slytherin's dormitory was undeniably luxurious, its opulence stemming from its occupants, most of whom came from ancient wizarding lineages.

"Harry's living like royalty now," Ian mused, taking in the fine décor.

Meanwhile, Malfoy rushed to his bed, crawling underneath. From the shadows, there came the sound of frantic rummaging.

"How much do you have stashed under there?" Ian crouched beside the bed, peering beneath it, only to be met with the sight of Malfoy's dust-covered head popping out, looking distinctly unamused.

"It's gone! The notebook is gone!" His voice trembled, heavy with fear and disbelief.

"Hmm?"

At the sound, Ian's eyes narrowed slightly, doubt flickering across his features. He instinctively scanned the luxurious, dimly lit dormitory, searching for any sign or clue.

(To Be Continued…)