Walking out of Howl's office, Harry headed non-stop to Fred and George's secret classroom.
Unfortunately, Fred and George were not there. After inquiring, he learned that the two were still running their betting pool in front of their stall at the Three Broomsticks Pub.
Helplessly, Harry had to return to the underground classroom first.
Inside the underground classroom, Draco was still practicing his training.
Leaning against the doorframe and looking at that back, Harry felt a bit emotional.
He never would have imagined that Draco would become such a person today; in fact, he never thought he would be friends with him.
"Draco," Harry called out.
"What?" Draco gritted his teeth, doing his best to maintain the Transfiguration. He had heard the door open earlier but hadn't paid it any mind.
"I have something to say," Harry said. "I need your help."
"Something about the Pure-blood families?" Draco said without thinking. The only reason he could imagine Harry proactively seeking him out was for that.
However, this time, Harry gave a completely different answer.
"No, it's something else, something very important." As he spoke, Harry glanced left and right down the corridor, and after confirming no one was there, he closed the door again.
Noticing Harry's cautious behavior, Draco also stopped his spell and looked at him in confusion.
"There aren't many people I can ask for help with this," Harry continued. "Besides Hermione, I only thought of you."
"Uh-huh." Draco nodded.
"So, even if you don't agree, tell me you won't speak of this to anyone, not even Crabbe and Goyle. Absolutely not."
After receiving Draco's affirmative answer, Harry didn't beat around the bush and directly laid out the entire plan for the jailbreak.
Draco's facial expressions gradually spiraled out of control.
"Are you joking with me?!" Draco's voice was incredibly shrill.
"It's not a joke." Harry nodded, suddenly feeling that he needed a sofa here. Otherwise, trying to strike a pose while sitting on a chair with a broken leg was not only tiring but also lacked style.
Afterward, Draco leaned weakly against the wall, somewhat questioning his life choices.
"You're crazy, you're all crazy!" Draco held his head. "Do you even know what this concept means? A jailbreak! That's Azkaban!! The most secure prison in the world."
"On another note, the events of last year were actually suggested by Uncle Howl," Harry explained, recounting the parts of the Quirrell incident that had been downplayed or hidden to Draco once more.
"You mean You-Know-Who... You-Know-Who is still alive?"
"He's dead now," Harry said calmly. "But he will come back again. Of course, this matter has nothing to do with that."
Draco was silent for a long time, his expression dazed, unsure of what he was thinking.
The egoism inherent to Slytherin kept making him weigh the pros and cons in his mind.
Second year, Azkaban.
Heh, the last time he had heard those two terms linked together was at a cocktail party, a joke told by someone from another family amidst the clinking of glasses.
A joke about Azkaban being the fifth house of Hogwarts, where the year you were in depended on what crime you committed.
Anyway, he remembered that after that party, his father's face was very grim when they got home, and he had even smashed a cup he had always liked.
Draco estimated that his own face right now didn't look much better than his father's did then.
"Don't think too much, this is my own private matter," Harry said seriously, not wanting to force him.
"Heh." The veins on Draco's forehead throbbed.
If it were anyone else, Draco could definitely slam the table and be certain they were just saying that to provoke him.
But now, the person saying this was the Scarhead he was familiar with, the one who spoke without thinking.
Draco found that as long as this guy spoke to someone he was close with, he was very—
"What's the plan for now?" Draco said instead.
"You agreed?" Harry was somewhat surprised.
"I half-agree; let's take it one step at a time. It's just... going to Azkaban, I still think it's too far-fetched." Draco shook his head.
A Slytherin never gave promises lightly—a true promise wasn't that kind of perfunctory or calculated rhetoric.
"No wonder you've been practicing the Patronus Charm. I'm telling you, I can't do it, and I can't possibly focus on that right now."
"I know." Harry laughed brightly. "You have to do your best to defeat Gemma Farley, I know."
"Yeah." Draco nodded.
Afterward, Harry began to describe his plan.
"Mundungus." Draco was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful.
"Professor Jones's meaning is for you to use Riddle's diary as leverage against this man to make him work obediently."
"That's the idea." Harry nodded in agreement.
"So when are we going?" Draco was somewhat expectant.
"Leaving school?" Harry looked at the mysteriously excited Draco in surprise, then said, "The sooner the better."
"Good, is it you, me, and Granger?"
"No, just you and me." Harry shook his head.
"Bastard." Draco cursed under his breath, feeling inexplicably like he had been conscripted as free labor.
Afterward, the two went back to Fred and George's secret classroom and discussed until late into the night.
Thus, the next day, the silent Harry Potter officially made his appearance.
Most people only knew that Harry's mouth was injured and it would be inconvenient for him to speak for a while.
The teachers who knew the inside story only felt that this idea was utterly absurd.
However, his own firm choice, along with the approval of Howl and Dumbledore, forced them to swallow their words.
Except for Snape.
He couldn't swallow it at all!
"Have you gone fucking mad?!!" he roared in Howl's office.
Howl's paintbrush paused for a moment, then he said calmly, "There's a girl here, don't be so crude, OK?"
He didn't care about Snape's roaring at all; he just turned up the music a bit, continued painting on his own, and gestured for him to close the door when he was done shouting and leaving.
Snape felt even more enraged by Howl's policy of ignoring him and nearly tore the door off when he left.
In the Potion Class the next day, he carried a rage that anyone could see, frantically making things difficult for Harry.
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