Chapter 159: 4-2

Dressed in dress robes and brimming with determination as we prepared to storm Greengrass Manor, the one who stood in our way was a small friend.

"Dobby, you need to stay behind and look after things. We'll definitely come back, so please be a good boy and listen to me."

"No, no! Dobby wants to help Maria Potter! Dobby can be useful!"

"Of course you are. You're plenty useful. But—I can't take you with us beyond this point. Please—no, this is an order."

"Maria Potter..."

Patting the dejected Dobby on the shoulder, I gently pushed him back inside the house. My heart ached at the sight of his large eyes staring through the closing door. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Are you sure about this?"

"It's fine. ...It's far better than having him die."

There was no certainty that that wicked woman was at Greengrass Manor, but I wanted to avoid taking unnecessary risks as much as possible. Above all, the fact that someone was waiting for us gave me courage. It made me determined to return alive no matter what.

"Shall we go then... my Lady?"

With a lingering sense of reluctance, I turned on my heel and extended my hand to the girl dressed in a pure white gown.

"Sometimes—no, most of the time—you come up with the most utterly foolish ideas."

"That phrasing sounds just like Professor Snape. Spoken like a true Slytherin princess."

"I'll sew your mouth shut. Have you forgotten that your wand is currently in my possession?"

Escorting the girl who was speaking in a quiet yet furious tone, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. Seeing this, the girl—a gender-swapped Draco—grimaced as much as her doll-like, refined features would allow.

Yes, we had swapped genders once again. The Polyjuice Potion was being kept by Hermione, and figuring Draco would somehow have a few bottles of the gender-swapping potion he had made previously stockpiled away, my guess turned out to be spot-on. This was the quickest disguise available to us.

In short, I was currently Florence, and I was calling Draco "Lady," just like that.

"Unbelievable... How on earth did I end up wearing this given how things unfolded? My second-uncle must be weeping in his grave."

"I wish he'd haunt us while he's at it."

"He'd probably only show up in my nightmares."

I snorted in agreement, earning a suspicious glare from a nearby witch. Taking Draco's hand, I flashed an affable smile as we moved toward the wall. Even with a pout, the Lady's features were still adorable, and though she dug her nails into my hand, she quietly followed along. Like a cat. Ah, or maybe a ferret.

The venue was already packed with people in brilliant attire, and everyone's attention was fixed on the speech of a certain individual—Mr. Greengrass, father to Astoria and Daphne. Looking out over the floor, Mr. Greengrass offered a charming, personable smile before beginning to explain why he had gathered the pure-bloods at his estate.

"Welcome, one and all. Pure-blood wizards and witches, true and proper. Please, look to your left and right. Go on, look at the faces of your neighbors. How noble, how dignified they are! Everyone gathered here is a comrade who has preserved our proper blood and history. It is we who are the true 'human beings' who will guide and carry the next era!"

His resounding voice echoed throughout the room. —I see.

"Targeted propaganda, then."

"He talks as though anyone who isn't pure-blood isn't even human."

We quietly spat venom back and forth under the cover of a Muffliato charm. Mr. Greengrass gesticulated passionately, delivering a fiery speech about how magnificent Lord Voldemort's vision for the future was, and how supporting it was the solemn duty of all wizardkind. In truth, this opulent party was nothing more than a recruitment drive for Death Eaters.

"...Flo, look over there."

"—! It can't be..."

Where Draco pointed, concealed beneath the hem of her gown, was a familiar face. Horace Slughorn. Oh no... Had he sided with the Dark faction?

"Our respected 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'—no, let me dare to call him this: the great man who will become Minister for Magic in the near future is striving to choose and forge a better future for wizardkind. Even now, at this very moment! It is right before our eyes! When 'He' becomes the ruler who governs the world, you researchers will also receive ample rewards—"

"—So he only attended this gathering as a researcher, then."

I breathed a small sigh of relief at Draco's calm analysis. Indeed, there seemed to be no trace of fervent agreement in Slughorn's eyes as he watched Mr. Greengrass. ...Please, let that be the case.

Even so, what could have piqued his interest so strongly?

"Excuse me, sir."

A light tap landed on my shoulder. Holding down my leaping heart, I nervously turned around. Hair of a different shade than her sister's, but eyes of the exact same color. An eerie girl concealing coldness behind a gentle smile—Daphne Greengrass stood right there.

"Ah..."

"The lady with you dropped this."

"Huh?"

Resting in Daphne's outstretched palm was a charming, silver-crafted lipstick.

"Um, that's not hers..."

"Ara, aren't you unthoughtful? I'm saying that no matter how good her features are, attending a social gathering without even a touch of rouge is bad manners. Take her and leave through that way while my father is delivering his speech. The powder room is immediately to the left once you step out. It is a gentleman's duty to ensure his partner isn't embarrassed, after all."

I flinched as she delivered the biting rebuke with a smile. Maintaining her pleasant expression, Daphne forced the lipstick into my hand. Beside me, Draco was stunned, and Daphne turned that same brazen smile upon her as well.

"That dress suits you immensely, Miss. This lipstick color will complement it wonderfully."

"...Your consideration is much appreciated, Miss Greengrass. In that case, let us take advantage of your kindness, Flo."

"Ah, y-yeah."

Taking Draco's arm, I awkwardly exited the floor with the smiling girl at our backs. The hallway was completely deserted, stretching into a dimly lit corridor.

"...So, does this mean it's an opportunity?"

"Unless it's a trap."

We walked right past the powder room and kept moving forward. Keeping an eye on Draco, who was unaccustomed to heels, I checked the layout of the manor. Astoria hadn't been in the venue. Where on earth was she being hidden?

"Flo—no, Maria. This is bad. Time's up."

Noticing a husky undertone creeping into his girl's voice, I gasped softly and put a hand to my own throat.

"...How about we just borrow some clothes from the Greengrass sisters who are close to our age?"

"When we already have the perfect dress code for both a man and a woman right here? Besides, there are no men in the Greengrass family other than the head of the house."

"At least let me struggle a bit!"

Hands that had been a girl's fingers now regaining their strength, he pulled me into an adjacent room. My waistline was already feeling looser. By tacit agreement, we turned away from each other as we swapped clothes.

"Still, it's working out surprisingly well. Your pack of lies completely blew me away."

For this infiltration, while I had been plotting where to sneak in from, reality turned out to be a full-frontal breach. That was because Draco recited a lesser-known family name from the Sacred Twenty-Eight to the gatekeeper as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was so cool and composed that they didn't suspect him for a second. What nerve!

"A fearless Malfoy is a master liar."

"You're looking remarkably stunning in the dress robes I had been wearing until moments ago." Draco smirked snidely.

"Tell me about it. ...Damn it, heels are absolute garbage. How on earth can women walk around in shoes that feel like torture devices?"

"They don't walk around. They don't carry luggage either. That is what a top-tier lady does."

"Since I'm neither top-tier nor a lady, mind if I just walk barefoot?"

"Oh? I didn't know you had a desire to return to the wild."

I stood up with the help of this annoying guy who always had a comeback for everything. The ventilation around my lap was way too breezy. It felt so flimsy. If only... if only these frills had some weight to cover my legs. —As I pinched the hem of the dress and grumbled, his (or rather, Harry's) jacket was suddenly draped over my shoulders. Draco looked down at me in silence.

"What? ...Ah, this wound on my chest is pretty noticeable, isn't it? Unlike when it happened to you, I didn't get treated directly by Professor Snape—What is it? You're used to seeing it, aren't you? Am I still partly transformed into Florence or something?"

"No... Ah, yeah. That's right. I'm used to it. This feels more natural."

"Well... um, thanks?"

"Yeah."

Draco's gaze didn't wander. Feeling that looking away now would mean admitting defeat, I stared right back into his ice-gray eyes in a battle of wills—only for my view to be blocked by a hand that had completely returned to that of a man.

"...Hey, young master. What are you trying to do here?"

"Shut up for a second. No, open your mouth a little."

"Huh?"

"Be quiet. Don't move."

Something touched my lips. Moistly gliding across, slicking them. Gliding slightly inside, applying it thoroughly.

"...Draco?"

"There's no mirror. Someone who isn't a lady wouldn't have the skill to manage this without one, would they?"

When the palm covering my eyes pulled away, in the flickering light before me was a dazzling flash of blonde hair and silver lipstick.

"After all, we were just instructed on basic etiquette by that kind lady earlier."

"...It tastes weird."

Licking the subtle shine Draco had applied to my lips, I ended up looking away first. I lost the battle of wills.

Suppressing the urge to roughly wipe off the rouge, I stepped out of the room. We had walked quite a distance. It was safe to say we had cleared this floor. Which meant...

"Up or down?"

"Down is the classic choice. Dungeons and storerooms are staple features of a pure-blood estate."

"By the way, doesn't this bring back memories, Malfoy?"

"Are you talking about some idiot who got caught by Snatchers? Potter."

"..."

"..."

We glared at each other, then both burst out laughing.

To search for the entrance to the basement, we set off walking once more.

""How on earth did that happen?!""

With the exact same tone, expression, and pitch, we confronted my counterpart beyond the cage. My counterpart was gripping the bars, staring back intensely. Hazel and emerald eyes locked onto each other. It was a reunion with my best friends and my brother after eight long months.

"Is that you, Maria? Oh my goodness—you look so cute! ...Ah, well, that's not what matters right now, is it? I know. I know, so stop looking at me like that, Ron.—Maria, why are you here? What have you been doing all this time? What's with that outfit?"

"I should be asking you that, Hermione. How did all of you end up... Wait, Harry, don't tell me you carelessly spoke His name?"

"No way! We were cornered by Winky. Then, thinking it was better than the three of us being separated—she dragged us all together into Side-Along Apparition."

"She was in such a desperate state. So we tried to hear her out—"

I groaned at the rapid barrage of information. It seemed they had been through their own desperate struggles that I knew nothing about. The novel outfit composed of dirt, leaves, and mud—none of which belonged in a dungeon—told the story. In the back, I saw a weakened Mr. Ollivander and Griphook, the goblin of bitter memories. Dean wasn't there. I could only hope he had managed to escape the clutches of the Snatchers this time.

"Anyway, we need to get you out of here."

"That's just it, we can't! We tried everything we could, but it was all repelled by nullification magic."

"That's from the inside, isn't it?"

"What?"

I slipped my hand between the iron bars. —Just as I thought. It allowed entry so easily. Wizards really ought to pay more attention to non-magical matters. Though that certainly won't happen in a world ruled by Voldemort.

"Harry, you have Sirius's knife, right? Lend it to me."

"Maria, I told you, it won't work! We tried the lock-picking knife, of course, but—"

"Just hand it over."

Ron reached into the pouch hanging around Harry's neck, found the knife, and passed it to me. I cast a non-verbal spell to reinforce the knife.

"Stand back."

Raising my arm high, I took aim. Identify it. Not the magically weak spot—simply the spot that could be smashed with the knife!

"—Hah!"

I slammed the hilt of the knife into the gap of the lock. Pure brute force, no tricks. The only thing used besides muscle was a modest reinforcement spell on the knife. Against items designed to nullify magic, raw force is the ultimate solution.

As expected, the lock, which was evidently weak against physical impact, broke effortlessly.

"...Maria is, how should I put it..."

"Harry would've done the same thing anyway."

When you work as an Auror, a mountain of problems crops up that you just want to solve with physical force.

We offered our shoulders to the injured old man and the goblin, helping them out of the cell. After a brief discussion, we decided to seek temporary refuge at Shell Cottage, just like "last time." I felt deeply indebted to Bill and Fleur for dragging them into our messes time after time.

"Alright, let me know as soon as you're done and we'll meet up at Shell Cottage. We still have things to take care of—"

"I'm staying too."

"Harry, I appreciate the thought, but this is our problem—"

"That's not it. We left unfinished business here too. —We have to get the Sword of Gryffindor back."

Ah—I hung my head. Indeed, that was something that must never be stolen.

"Alright. We'll search for the Sword of Gryffindor together, so—"

"—I've got a plan. Trust me, Maria."

The one who responded in a voice filled with strong determination was Ron. It hit me. That's right—they didn't need my help to begin with.

Meeting the sparkle of those familiar, beloved blue eyes head-on, a beaming smile spread across my face despite myself.

"Alright. I trust you. You turn into a genius sometimes, after all."

"...It's the idiot part that's only 'sometimes.'"

As Ron held onto old Mr. Ollivander and the goblin to Disapparate, his ears were redder than his bright ginger hair. ...This is exactly why my best friend is the greatest.

"Right, let's part ways here then. You guys wait for Ron, and we'll keep moving forward."

"Maria."

Harry's hand grabbed my wrist. He turned my hand palm up and placed Sirius's lock-picking knife into it.

"Harry?"

"You keep it. I'm sure you'll need it. And—return it with your own hands."

"...I promise."

Watched over by green eyes that held complex emotions yet lost none of their softness, Draco and I dashed upstairs toward our goal. It felt as though Sirius's heart and Harry's feelings were all imbued within this single knife.