Halloween was approaching, but Harry's mood was a bit low. He felt he had been too rash in accepting Nearly Headless Nick's invitation. He, Ron, and Hermione were going to attend a Deathday Party for ghosts. He saw other students happily participating in the Halloween feast. The Great Hall was magnificently decorated, with fire bats adorning the entire hall, and Rubeus Hagrid's giant pumpkins carved into lanterns, large enough for three people to sit inside. Rumour had it that Dumbledore had booked a skeleton dance troupe to entertain everyone. All of this made him feel regret; his intuition told him these would be more interesting than a Deathday Party, and in fact they were.
"A word once spoken cannot be taken back," Hermione reminded Harry. "You said you would attend the Deathday Party."
Aside from Slytherin, the other three houses regarded honesty and trustworthiness as virtues. So, although somewhat reluctant, Harry kept his promise.
Then they witnessed hundreds of milky-white, translucent ghosts floating in the classroom, waltzing to the piercing sound of thirty musical saws. A chandelier was lit with thousands of candles, emitting an eerie blue light.
They decided to look elsewhere. They almost bumped into Moaning Myrtle, but fortunately, Hermione's timely warning saved them, and they arrived at the other end of the dungeon. Ron shouted excitedly because he saw a long dining table covered in black velvet, but as they approached, they all covered their noses in unison.
One could not expect a ghost's food to be normal because they could not eat at all. They seemed only able to pass their mouths through the food they needed and then consider it eaten. Thu,s Harry and Ron saw plenty of rotten meat, pitch-black cakes burnt to a crisp, and a large amount of maggot-infested haggis. They guessed this food might have been sitting there for a long time and had been d reused many times.
Later, Peeves came to cause trouble again and made Myrtle cry. Afterwards, they spoke a few more words with Nick, but they really could not stand the atmosphere anymore because it felt too cold. Harry was famished, and Ron's teeth would not stop chattering.
"I feel like something's wrong. I always feel like someone is watching me. Just now I thought it was a ghost, but now I'm sure it's not. There isn't a single ghost here," Harry looked around, trying to find something, but found nothing.
"Don't overthink it, Harry," Ron said. "It's just an illusion from being too hungry. Let's hurry back and join the party."
"The pudding probably isn't finished yet," Ron said hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the Entrance Hall.
At that moment, Harry heard it.
"…Rip you… tear you… kill you…"
It was that voice again, the cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockhart's office.
Lockhart always called him to the office to help reply to letters from his admirers, and several times before he had heard these cold words, which made him very uncomfortable. His intuition told him that the speaker of this voice and the person who had been watching him just now were not the same person.
He stumbled to a halt, grabbed the stone wall, and listened intently, looking around, squinting as he searched up and down the dimly lit corridor.
"Harry, what are you doing—"
He continued to follow the voice. Suddenly, he heard the voice grow even more sinister. Even hearing just a few words, Harry could feel the bloodthirsty desire of the voice's owner.
"He's going to kill someone!" A sense of both fear and excitement suddenly arose in Harry's heart. He sprinted all around the third floor, with Ron and Hermione following breathlessly behind. The three of them did not stop until they finally turned a corner and arrived at the last empty corridor.
On the wall in front of them,
something was shining. They approached slowly, squinting to make it out in the darkness. On the wall between two windows, a foot above the ground, some words were smeared, shimmering in the light of the burning torches.
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened.
Enemies of the heir, beware.
"What's that—hanging underneath?" Ron said, his voice trembling slightly.
They approached cautiously, and Harry almost slipped: there was a large puddle of water on the floor. Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they edged closer to the slogan, their eyes fixed on a dark shadow below. The three of them saw what it was at the same time and jumped back in fright, splashing water.
Then they saw the petrified Mrs Norris, the caretaker's cat, her tail hanging from a torch bracket, her body as stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring blankly. The three of them stood motionless for several seconds before Ron said, "Let's get out of here quickly." "Shouldn't we try to save—" Harry said haltingly. "Listen to me," Ron said, "we don't want to be found here."
However, it was too late. A low rumble, like distant thunder, told them the feast had just ended. From both ends of the corridor where they stood, the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs and the happy, loud chatter of people who had eaten their fill could be heard. The n students crowded into the corridor from both ends.
When the people in front saw the cat hanging upside down, the lively, chattering sounds suddenly vanished. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone in the middle of the corridor, and the students suddenly fell silent, crowding forward to see this terrible scene.
Harry's lips were dry. He looked at the still, stiff cat, not knowing what to say to explain. Only the three of them were at the scene; any extra words seemed so pale and weak. He also saw Filch walking quickly toward them.
"Three suspects eliminated." Draco, under the Disillusionment Charm, could only comfort himself this way. He stood to the side, coldly observing everything before him. He had also experienced the ghosts' revelry while following them. He had originally wanted to reach the scene before the trio but had overestimated his speed. He had to spend more energy maintaining the spell and perhaps avoid being discovered by Peeves.
"Said he, it's time to go." Thinking this, he returned the way he came to where the ghosts gathered. He was not confident he could maintain this magic in front of so many people without being discovered; Dumbledore was not like the ordinary students.
"With so many students, the process of elimination really isn't a good choice." He could not help but feel a headache. Lord Voldemort's soul fragment was attached to an object. This was a magical item created by the most powerful Dark wizard in history, requiring him to deal with it with extreme focus. From Ginny's previous performance, it could be seen that the diary had an overwhelming allure for those with some psychological issues. The student-era Lord Voldemort could be said to have an insight into people's hearts, easily gaining almost everyone's trust. He only needed to guide them gently to make them open their hearts and do as he pleased.
The first victim was Mrs Norris, he remembered, so he chose to follow the trio on Halloween, hoping to find some clues. However, due to his own negligence and miscalculation of the spell's difficulty, he missed the first opportunity to gain a clue.
"But it's just as well; it's a good thing they've all been eliminated."
Since the butterfly effect had begun to take its toll, he would not let any suspicious person go. Speaking of psychological issues, the GoldeTrio was actually not small.
Harry, orphaned since childhood and raised by his aunt and uncle, could be said to have grown up being mistreated. After such treatment, everything was reversed upon being admitted to Hogwarts, becoming "the saviour" in the words of wizards. But he knew he was just a very ordinary boy, with mediocre or perhaps slightly above-average talent for magic. He carried a huge burden and even somewhat disliked what they called him.
Some children feel a deep-seated hatred for the praise of parents and elders. To them, these are incredibly harsh words because they feel they do not deserve the praise, which gives them a sense of shame.
And under this sense of shame, Harry wanted to prove himself, not just in Quidditch; he hoped he could live up to the title of "the saviour" in other aspects as well.
Imagine if Riddle in the diary had taught him many small magic tips he had summarised himself, causing his schoolwork to advance by leaps and bounds. Perhaps the protagonist would have been the one seduced. Of course, it is also possible his inner sense of justice would outweigh these desires; who can say for sure?
Ron, well, as the youngest brother, he inevitably had to be compared to his older brothers. Like Ginny, his problem was that he had to use leftover second-hand goods. Poverty is one of the factors that can easily break a person. Even Harry, who seemed penniless at first, was actually a hidden wealthy person with a large inheritance, able to buy all the snacks he needed in the train carriage without a second thought. Perhaps for a moment, Ron would be jealous of Harry. Like other boys his age, he also hoped to be noticed, as the Mirror of Erised had clearly shown, but he did not have the abilities to match, which was enough to make him feel pain.
Imagine the diary would only need to stir up some of his jealousy and fear to succeed.
People are sometimes very fragile and sometimes very resilient. Most people know how to regulate their emotions, so Harry and Ron still appeared brave and strong most of the time.
As for Hermione, a Muggle-born witch, she must have been filled with fear and wonder when she first entered the wizarding world. In the beginning, it was likely more of the former than the latter. But when she found herself better than many children from wizarding families, the former was not as prevalent. But she was still troubled because she found she could not handle her relationships with friends well. There were always conflicts between friends and school rules, and her occasional unintentional actions always made people feel she was arrogant, which would intentionally or unintentionally hinder their friendship.
Of course, now, under someone's unintentional mistake, there might be more of the usual troubles of a girl's puberty.
Thinking of this, Draco let out a long breath. Sometimes, he wondered if it would be better to just follow the routine and be a pure-blood supremacist, opposing Harry and the others as in the original trajectory, and calling Hermione a mudblood a few more times. That way, the trajectory of history would not shift. He might have two tragic years in his sixth or seventh year, but after Lord Voldemort's defeat, he could return to a life of luxury.
Of course, this was just a thought. He mocked himself, finding his thoughts just now amusing. His mind began to wander again as he started to think.
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