Chapter 634: The New Potions Professor Once Dumbledore had taken his seat and Professor McGonagall led the first years in, the Sorting Ceremony officially began.But compa |
In the wizarding world, there are all sorts of spells with strange and extraordinary effects.
Naturally, among the hundreds, even thousands, of complex spells that exist, not even Nicolas Flamel, despite having lived for over a century, would dare claim to know every spell, or to understand all of their effects and side effects.
Even magic capable of bringing someone back from the dead is not entirely nonexistent.
The most famous example is probably the spell that splits the soul to ensure one can return to life in the future.
And the object created by that spell to house and preserve the soul is called a Horcrux.
Although this spell and the existence of Horcruxes were only known among those in the know and a small number of wizards, one thing had already been confirmed. The reason Voldemort was able to return was because he had used the dangerous method of creating Horcruxes, a method with unknown and terrifying side effects.
Anyone who did not understand Horcruxes could never grasp how dangerous their creation truly was.
And to keep a Horcrux from being destroyed, one had to use every method possible...
A contest of wits. A contest of courage.
First there had been the diary at the very beginning.
Because of Draco’s unexpected involvement, Dumbledore had become aware of the existence of Horcruxes, and that had let him gain the upper hand.
This time, although the Horcrux had still been destroyed, Dumbledore had been injured in the process, so Voldemort could at least be said to have gained half a step back.
After all, Voldemort had far more than just a few Horcruxes.
Trading one destroyed Horcrux for a major weakening of Dumbledore’s strength was a bargain that clearly favored Voldemort...
...
As the saying went, experts saw the method, while outsiders only saw the spectacle.
Most people might not understand what a Horcrux really did, but Dumbledore’s injury had spread through the entire British wizarding world in a form everyone could see with their own eyes.
Worth noting was that Draco strongly suspected the one who had leaked the news was Lockhart, wherever that man had vanished to...
In any case, every young wizard present was now focused on Dumbledore’s injury, rather than wondering whether the destroyed Horcrux was still being carried on him.
Of course, most of the young wizards had no idea what a Horcrux even was, much less what it meant.
“His right hand?”
At once, every gaze fixed on Dumbledore’s right hand.
Dumbledore, however, acted as though he had not noticed any of those stares. He walked openly to the head seat at the staff table, with no intention at all of hiding his right hand beneath his robes...
“You cannot be serious.”
“...I think I am going to be sick.”
“Does anyone know what kind of curse could do that?”
Everyone stared blankly at the right hand Dumbledore had resting against his beard.
Withered.
Blackened.
That hand looked as though it had been scorched by fire. There was none of the healthy color skin should have had, and it was so shriveled and ruined that one could almost believe it would crumble apart with the slightest touch.
At that moment, all the young wizards sucked in a breath.
None of them could imagine what kind of attack would leave a person like that.
And while they were inwardly shaken, the more timid among them could not even bear to look at the hand a second time.
Compared with something human, it looked more like part of a corpse.
In fact, if Dumbledore had not still been using that hand to stroke his long beard, people might have thought it was already completely ruined.
Even if it was not ruined, it was not far from it...
Compared with everyone else, Pansy was already fairly calm, but even she instinctively edged closer to Draco the moment she saw it.
“Draco, can you tell what kind of injury that is? Was it caused by Fiendfyre?”
“No... that does not look like the sort of wound Fiendfyre would leave. It looks more like a curse, or perhaps some kind of snake venom.”
“A curse? Poison?”
“I would guess there was something especially strange about that Horcrux. It is just...”
“Just what?”
“I find it odd. Dumbledore does not seem like the sort of wizard who would blunder into a trap so easily.”
A Horcrux was, after all, just an object.
Voldemort had certainly tampered with them, and with the Dark Lord’s methods, those protections were undoubtedly far from ordinary. But for someone as powerful as Dumbledore, they should have been no more than something that required a bit of caution.
Yet the final result had still been this...
“So in the end, the one who understands you best is always your enemy.”
That was the only explanation Draco could come up with.
Voldemort must have deliberately set things up around Dumbledore’s weakness, and perhaps had already planned this possibility from the very moment he created the Horcruxes.
It was even possible that Dumbledore being able to find the location of the Horcrux had been part of Voldemort’s design all along...
And the purpose, of course, had been to kill Dumbledore.
...
While Draco was still thinking, Dumbledore’s voice rang out from the front, loud and resonant, without the slightest sign that his spirit had been affected.
Only, compared with previous years, this opening sounded rather different...
“I am very glad to see all of you. It seems quite a few interesting things happened during the holiday...”
As he said that, Dumbledore deliberately let his smiling gaze rest on Draco for several seconds.
What was interesting was that Draco met Dumbledore’s eyes directly, and answered with a confident smile of his own, without the slightest retreat.
“...Even I very nearly died in some forgotten corner.”
“...”
Dumbledore’s self mockery did not draw laughter from the young wizards. If anything, it only made them more uneasy.
And at that exact moment, a hand shot up high from the Gryffindor table, like an eager student in class preparing to ask a question.
The wizard raising it was not the ever curious Hermione Granger, but Harry Potter, who looked even worse than before.
It seemed the savior whose halo had faded had something he wanted to ask...
But Dumbledore clearly had no intention of answering, because he did not spare Harry Potter even a single extra glance.
“I imagine all of you already know what is happening outside. Even your families may be going through difficult things. But please trust the professors seated here, and trust those brave fighters who have stepped forward to resist the Dark Lord. Everything will pass.”
Clap.
Clap clap.
Clap clap clap.
At first only a few people started applauding, but then the sound of clapping, along with the smile on Dumbledore’s face, spread through the hall and pulled the others in with it.
As for those wizards, whether they truly believed Dumbledore’s words or were simply following the crowd, they joined in all the same.
At the very least, the atmosphere no longer felt as heavy as before, and for the moment they had even forgotten about the injury to Dumbledore’s hand.
Only the more clear headed wizards did not view the situation with such optimism.
Harry Potter, standing there with his arm lowered and a dejected look on his face, was one of them.
...
Once Dumbledore had taken his seat and Professor McGonagall led the first years in, the Sorting Ceremony officially began.
But compared with the new students standing in the center aisle, Draco’s attention was far more focused on Penelope Clearwater, who, for some reason, was still at Hogwarts even though she should have graduated last year.
He had not thought much of it when he ran into her earlier, but looking back now, Draco finally realized just how unusual it was.
Not only that, he also spotted Cedric at the head of a group of young wizards dressed in robes that clearly marked them as Ministry of Magic personnel...
“You noticed it a while ago, did you not, Draco?”
“So you know something, Pansy?”
“Of course. Every Prefect was told about it during the earlier meeting. At this point, you are probably the only one who still does not know.”
As she said that, a faint trace of grievance appeared in Pansy’s eyes.
That was probably because Draco had taken so long to show up.
More importantly, the moment he and Hermione appeared together, Pansy had noticed the unusual flush on Hermione’s face.
But Pansy had no real defense against Draco. Under the steady gaze of those gray eyes, she lasted less than a second before spilling everything.
“As for Cedric and the others, you would have found out with just a little asking around. Besides, they were never trying to hide it. Just look carefully at what they are wearing.”
“It has something to do with the Ministry of Magic?”
“Exactly. It seems to have been that pink toad’s idea, and the school apparently agreed after reaching some kind of condition with her.”
Speaking of that pink toad, Dolores Umbridge, it was not hard to notice that the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor’s seat at the staff table was empty.
Clearly, the curse surrounding the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had once again come true.
Draco did not believe for a second that Umbridge, a woman obsessed with power and so eager to oppose Dumbledore, would simply miss an opportunity like this.
Not at a moment when Dumbledore was injured...
...
Just as Draco turned his gaze toward that empty Defence Against the Dark Arts seat...
Wait.
Something was not quite as he had imagined.
No, more precisely, the empty seat was actually the Potions professor’s seat, while Snape, who should have been occupying that place, was now sitting in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.
Had he sat in the wrong seat?
No. That was impossible.
No one else seemed to have noticed this small detail. Otherwise, it would definitely have set off a wave of discussion.
Still...
Although Draco knew perfectly well that Snape had coveted that position for a long time, was he really not worried about the curse?
At that thought, Draco’s expression turned a little strange.
While he was still wondering about it, Astoria, who had just entered her fourth year, started explaining why Penelope was still here.
“As for why Penelope is still at school, I heard she personally submitted a request to the Head of Ravenclaw, and Professor Flitwick agreed.”
“She stayed because her N.E.W.T. results were poor?”
“No... that would be far from accurate. If anything, Penelope’s grades were among the best of all the seventh years.”
After tossing out that casual guess, Draco stopped dwelling on it.
At the end of the day, he had only been a little curious.
Generally speaking, any wizard graduating with the prestige of having been Hogwarts Head Girl or Head Boy would be highly sought after in the wizarding world, just like Percy Weasley had been.
The moment he graduated, the Ministry of Magic had taken notice of him and made him the Minister’s special assistant.
It was not quite a single leap to the top, but it absolutely counted as youthful success.
So Penelope’s decision could only be called highly unwise, which was why it had drawn Draco’s attention, and the attention of others as well...
“More importantly, Draco, did you notice?”
“You mean him...”
“Yes. That look was impossible not to notice. It made me feel a little uncomfortable.”
As she said that, Pansy rubbed her arm uneasily.
That clammy feeling was like being stared at by a venomous snake.
If that gaze had belonged to Snape, or to some Slytherin wizard, Pansy would not have looked nearly so unsettled.
After all, there really were some witches and wizards in Slytherin who were not exactly... sunny.
But if that same kind of look appeared on a Gryffindor student, then it became deeply strange...
Draco, who understood part of the reason, only shrugged. “He gained too little, lost too much, and the change came too suddenly. Clearly, Mr. Potter cannot accept any of it.”
“...”
“...”
The two girls, who more or less understood what Draco meant, both rolled their eyes at him.
They did not particularly like Harry Potter, that much was true, but this maddening habit of speaking in riddles still deserved severe condemnation.
After shooting Draco a look, Pansy and the others could not help glancing toward Harry Potter’s side.
Although Hogwarts enrollment this year did not seem to have been affected too badly, and even some students who should have graduated were still here, it was also obvious that several familiar faces were missing.
That included Harry Potter’s best... good friend, Ron Weasley...
As for the reason.
Aside from Ron’s own issues, there was also that extremely detailed article Rita Skeeter had written.
In it, along with Draco’s shining performance, Ron Weasley’s attack on Draco had of course been laid out in full in the Daily Prophet.
Not even a single line of their exchange had been omitted.
...
Ignoring Harry Potter’s veiled, hate filled stare, Draco turned his attention to Dumbledore, who had risen again now that the Sorting Ceremony was over.
Or rather, it was his next words that captured everyone’s attention.
“Before we begin the feast, I would like to introduce a wizard to all of you.”
“Yes, I imagine you have also noticed that yet another professor has left us forever.”
Dumbledore always enjoyed showing off his eccentric sense of humor, but this time, Draco had every reason to suspect that those words carried a bit of personal feeling.
And in the very next instant, the laughter rising from below, along with the smiles on the professors’ faces, made it abundantly clear just how dreadful Umbridge’s popularity had been during her time at Hogwarts.
Even Cedric, standing in the side aisle with his usual serious expression, had the corners of his mouth twitching as though he was holding something back...
Dumbledore raised a hand and gently pressed it downward. “Ahem. I am sure Dolores can understand a small joke from an old man.”
“But that is not what I was going to say next... ah, there you are, Horace.”
Following Dumbledore’s gaze, everyone finally noticed that the previously empty seat was now occupied by a completely unfamiliar face.
A round bald head.
A walrus like mustache.
A proudly protruding belly.
And in his hand, a golden goblet swaying with red wine, filled to about a third.
This elderly wizard, who looked to be around the same age as Dumbledore, was the Horace Slughorn Dumbledore had just mentioned.
And he was this year’s new Potions professor.