Chapter 32: 3-2

The Quidditch match had arrived. Our opponent, Slytherin. In the position where Draco used to sit, I could now see Theodore Nott’s brown hair.

"Looks like rain," I whispered to the green robes sitting right next to me—a sight I had grown quite used to. In a sea of Gryffindor red, his green was incredibly conspicuous. Despite that, Draco acted as if he hadn't a care in the world.

...You’ve certainly grown a thick skin regarding the rude stares from those around you, haven't you?

"This is the anniversary of the first match I lost to you," he remarked.

"It’s Theodore this time, so who knows how it’ll go?"

"...Are you suggesting I’m inferior to him?"

Oops. It seemed I had accidentally sparked his pride for the first time in a while. I watched with a secret, wry smile as Draco gripped his Omnioculars, determined to analyze the game. Sorry, Theodore. I shouldn't have said anything.

The whistle blew to start the match. The sky grew increasingly ominous. Ah, I should have cast a Waterproofing Charm on Harry’s glasses.

Slytherin took the lead. Angelina Johnson was being harassed by a Bludger, and for some reason, the two Beaters meant to defend against it were sticking to Harry like glue—

"Wait..."

Harry was moving strangely again. Honestly, trouble happened so frequently during Quidditch that I couldn't keep track of which incident occurred in which year.

What was it this time? The Dementors aren't until next year, so... Ah!

"Dobby!"

"What?" Draco looked at me, stunned that I had suddenly shouted the name of his family’s House-elf.

"I told you, didn't I? Dobby is going to interfere like crazy this year! This is part of it. Don't you see that Bludger is acting weird? Dobby is controlling it! He’s going to kill Harry! I mean—he thinks he’s helping, but at the very least, I thought I was going to be killed!"

Draco hurriedly checked through his Omnioculars to see Harry spiraling frantically.

After this, the future where that idiot Lockhart literally removes Harry’s bones is waiting! That meddling, eccentric, incompetent fool!

"You... that’s what was happening to you? How on earth did you manage to catch the Snitch like that?"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but just call Dobby! You're a Malfoy, aren't you!?"

"R-right."

Draco snapped his fingers, and a trembling House-elf appeared.

Ironically, it was a good thing Draco was currently being shunned by the other students. Thanks to that, no one noticed him summoning a House-elf in the middle of the stands.

"Dobby, you're the one controlling the Bludger, aren't you? Stop it this instant! Are you trying to kill Harry Potter!?"

"Never! Dobby would never! Dobby only wishes to... Dobby only wishes to save Harry Potter—"

"Dobby."

At the sound of Draco’s cold voice, Dobby’s tennis-ball-sized eyes widened to their limit.

"Master Draco! This is... Dobby is... Dobby is..."

"It is an order. Cease the magic you are performing at once."

Nodding pitifully, Dobby snapped his fingers. The Bludger, which had been relentlessly pursuing Harry, instantly changed its target.

But it was too late. I saw Harry—who hadn't broken any bones yet—catch the Snitch and fall from his broom.

"Harry!"

I stood up and shoved my way through the crowd. Draco would handle Dobby. More importantly, right now—

"Let me fix that for you! A simple spell, I've done it dozens of times!"

I have to stop that hopeless idiot!

"N-no, I'm fine. Please, just leave it," Harry groaned.

"Harry, do not fear. I have performed this charm—"

"We don't need your first aid when there's a professional like Madam Pomfrey available, thank you!"

The field fell into a confused silence at the sudden appearance of a furious redhead. Before Oliver Wood could even finish muttering, "Is that Potter’s sister?", the girl had already scooped up her beloved younger brother—in a bridal carry.

The frustration of not being able to carry Hermione alone during the troll incident last year had paid off; my secret strength training was worth it.

"Family takes care of family. Excuse us."

Parting the crowd of stunned players like a hot knife through butter, the remarkably gallant girl marched toward the Hospital Wing. Someone whispered, "Shouldn't it be the other way around...?" and everyone present nodded in silent agreement.

The news that Colin Creevey had been Petrified spread like wildfire. Harry, who had been friendly with him, was devastated, and Draco—who once again lacked an alibi—was under even more suspicion. Though we were leanng into it, the fact that Draco actually had no alibi was pure coincidence. Man, you really have terrible luck sometimes...

The students' paranoia accelerated, and the Slytherins were over the moon, treatng Draco like their King. An unsettling atmosphere permeated Hogwarts. And in the midst of it all...

The Dueling Club was held.

"What value is there in this farce?" Draco sneered.

"I agree, but we have to go protect Harry. If it gets out that Harry is a Parselmouth here, all your hard work goes down the drain. The atmosphere turned ice-cold last time. It was... intense."

Immediately after seeing the notice after dinner, Draco and I headed straight back to the Great Hall. Draco shrugged at my scoff. Well, he was the one who conjured the snake in the original timeline.

"Besides, we don't know where the real culprit is hiding. Like with Ginny, they might not even realize they're doing it. I'm keeping an eye on her, but she hasn't even touched the Diary."

"...Logically speaking, a Slytherin is the most likely candidate."

"If there’s a student who can break a seal that tight, they’re a genius."

After all, Draco was managing the Horcrux using his current abilities combined with knowledge from a future where he lived a long life. It seemed to me that even an adult would struggle without a professional. In the current Hogwarts, the only ones who could break Draco’s seal were Dumbledore or Professor Snape, who is well-versed in the Dark Arts.

For a student to do it—even a Head Boy—would be reckless.

Yet, the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.

Normally, the Diary and interaction with Riddle are essential to opening the door. Unless they’re possessed by Voldemort’s soul, the chances of a normal person being a Parselmouth are zero. But Draco confirmed every day that the Diary hadn't moved from its decorative box.

Was someone acting while Draco wasn't looking? Or...

"...Is there a key other than the Diary?"

Draco seemed to have reached the same conclusion. We looked at each other with expressions far too heavy for twelve-year-olds.

"Anyway, all we can do is observe suspicious people. If we panic, the future will change, and eventually, someone will die."

"You know, in everyone else's eyes, you're the most suspicious one."

"Exclude me from that."

We shared a small, joking laugh. The Great Hall was already packed, the long tables removed. I found the trio and tapped their shoulders. Ron and Hermione flinched at the sight of Draco, but Harry gave a soft smile. Harry didn't doubt Draco for a second. Even Ron and Hermione probably didn't truly believe he was the culprit.

Hehe, look at that. Being trusted feels a bit ticklish, doesn't it?

"I wonder who’s teaching us?" Hermione wondered.

"I don't care, as long as it isn't—ugh!" Ron groaned.

Everyone except Hermione had the exact same reaction. Out came Lockhart, whose shining teeth were loud even when he wasn't speaking, and his nemesis, Snape. I wondered which of them sat lower in Harry’s estimation right now.

Lockhart began his usual narcissistic speech. Draco and I exchanged snide grins.

Professor Snape’s knowledge of dueling is "meager"? If a man on the front lines has "meager" knowledge, then yours must be inferior to a babe in arms.

After a barrage of flowery words, Snape and Lockhart finally took their places on the dueling stage. Draco and I were of one mind:

--Trash him, Severus Snape!

"Expelliarmus!"

The match was over in an instant. Snape wasn't even trying. How Lockhart could keep up his overconfident facade after being blown away so easily was beyond me. Maybe he had no choice.

"Now, pair up!"

An embarrassed Lockhart dove into a group of female students who were fawning over him. Hermione was starting to drift toward them, so I instinctively grabbed her hood like a leash to pull her back. It wasn't on purpose—don't glare at me.

"How about Draco and I, Harry with Ron, and Hermione with Parvati?"

The result was a pairing of those with similar skill levels. While brawls broke out all around us, our group remained relatively calm.

"Draco, I'm not using magic," I stated.

"Not even wandless magic?"

"Because—it would definitely be noticed."

Our eyes weren't on Lockhart, but on Professor Snape.

"...You're right. He'd notice."

"Right?"

You might be able to trick a fool, but you can't deceive the man who spends his life deceiving others.

"Er... ahem. Expelliarmus!" Draco cast.

"I surrender."

I raised my hands in a mock gesture of defeat as my wand was plucked away. Draco caught it and gave a complicated smile.

"This is the first time I've beaten you with this spell."

"Oh, really? Even though you managed to disarm Dumbledore?"

"Don't say it. My stomach hurts just thinking about it."

Looking at the twelve-year-old Draco clutching his stomach, I caught a glimpse of the adult Draco who used to be pushed around by children, and a wave of unnameable emotion hit me. ...We've both had it rough, haven't we?

Professor Snape ended the chaos with a "Finite!", and it was time for the demonstration match. As expected, Harry and Draco were called up. Since Snape knew Draco was on good terms with Harry, this might have been his version of mercy.

The current Draco wouldn't do something like conjuring a snake. However—better safe than sorry.

"Professor, may I?"

I raised my hand, catching Lockhart’s eye. Perfect. Lockhart is an easy mark.

"Actually, Harry hasn't been feeling well since dinner."

"Eh? Mari—oof!?"

Harry let out a grunt as my elbow landed squarely in his ribs. Draco on the stage and Ron next to me looked at me as if they were witnessing a mugging.

"He's actually struggling just to stand... Oh, Harry, stay with me! Poor Harry... I told him he should rest, but when he heard that the Professor... yes, the esteemed Professor Lockhart was holding the Dueling Club, he insisted on coming despite his condition. But he’s reached his limit. Look how pained he is... Surely, surely the Professor wouldn't force a poor student who admires him so much to go up on stage... would he? Professor Lockhart is so very kind, after all. Right?"

Draco and Ron were looking at me like I was the true villain. Also, Harry was legitimately tearing up from the pain.

"Yes, yes! If that is the case, it cannot be helped. However, if that’s so..."

"Therefore, as his sister, I shall take his place."

I handed Harry over to Ron and stepped in front of Draco before Lockhart could even nod. Draco looked utterly exasperated. The murmurs around us reached a fever pitch.

Whoa, the Princess and the Prince are dueling?! Can the Prince really cast a spell on the Princess? Though the Princess looks like she’d definitely point a wand at the Prince... she is a Gryffindor, after all. But will she be okay? I mean, he’s... you know.

Ignoring the voices, I shook hands with Draco. He whispered, "Are you going to use it?" and I simply smiled back with my eyes.

...Well, whether the wand listens to me is another matter. Seriously, are you sure the core isn't a temperamental Veela hair instead of a Thestral tail?

We took our distance and bowed. ...Ugh, the trauma of "Bow to death" is coming back.

Lockhart’s count echoed in the silent hall. One—Two—Three—

"Expelliarmus!"

We leveled our wands simultaneously. And then it flew—my wand.

It landed gracefully in Draco’s hand, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Ahaha! Guess it’s no use after all."

"You knew that would happen."

As he handed the wand back, he whispered again. "...Are you satisfied?"

...Yeah, I am. This was probably the right answer. That is the essence of this wand.

After that, no snakes appeared, no accidents happened, and the Dueling Club ended peacefully.

I wave the wand. There is no resistance.

That’s right—I realized it. You’ve only ever answered me three times.

The first was to save Neville as he fell. The second was to protect Harry in the forest. The third was to release Neville from his binds.

You are...

"A wand that will not protect me."

I wave it one more time before tucking it carefully back into my robes.

Hedwig’s judgment was correct. This is, without a doubt, my wand.

--How very "Maria" of a wand it is.