[HP] Noble

Draco woke up early the next morning to find himself alone in bed.

After slowly rubbing on the soft pillow, he reluctantly opened his eyes and lifted the quilt. He keenly captured the half of the bed beside him, and could vaguely see traces of another person sleeping. , Holding up the quilt for a moment, Draco made a move that he regretted later - he stretched out his hand to touch the half of the sheet.

The freezing temperature showed that those who slept there had long since left.

"...Oh, that's not bad." Facing the empty prefect's dormitory, His Royal Highness Prince Slytherin of the second year showed a mocking expression towards the ceiling, "Anyway, I never thought that one morning would be like this —Oh, look, how fresh, the young master of the Malfoy family is just like a poor abandoned woman, furtively touching the sheets beside him!"

A harsh voice rang out in the prefect's dormitory, and the only other sound in the room was the crackling and exploding sound of dry logs in the well-burning fireplace.

It was obvious that the young master of the Malfoy family was not very interested in singing stand-up comedy early in the morning - so after a pause for a few seconds, he decisively lifted the quilt and got up, and before leaving, he made a mess of the bed on purpose.

After washing up alone, even the neat set of clean clothes that were ready to be placed on the sofa when he walked out of the bathroom did not ease the gloomy expression of Prince Slytherin. The dense complexion is obviously not suitable for Christmas - but he doesn't care so much, the hell - with a face that is indigestible, His Royal Highness Prince Slytherin led his two tall and strong men to the In the hall of the auditorium, his straight waist and haughty face made him look like a proud meerkat.

The four long tables belonging to the four houses had been put back in place. When Draco walked into the auditorium, he saw at the Slytherin dining table, the slightly slender senior Slytherin Popping a piece of bread covered with butter and jam into his mouth—he looked like he had a good appetite.

After a while, it was obvious that he also noticed the not-so-friendly gaze cast on him from the door of the auditorium, stopped eating, and turned his head to the auditorium side——after seeing the man staring at him with raised eyebrows, At the first moment, Prince Slytherin paused, then smiled, and pointed to the position beside him as if nothing had happened.

Oh, and even for Christmas, such an over-enthusiastic display seemed unusual.

Draco hesitated for three seconds about where to sit for today's breakfast.

At the fourth second he lifted his foot.

At about No. 15 seconds, he sat down firmly beside the black-haired Slytherin, and ordered the latter to put cranberry jam in front of him in a high-spirited tone - Scorpius did so Then he kept that creepy smile and watched the platinum aristocrat beside him smear jam on his bread, when Draco was busy with the silver knife obsessively carefully every corner of the bread Scorpius paused as he daubed the color of jam, and then said, "Draco—"

"Can't hold it anymore?" Draco pushed a piece of cranberry flesh into the center of the bread with the tip of a knife without even shaking his eyelids, "I thought you'd at least let me have a bite of breakfast before eating Let's start."

"It's not a serious topic." Scorpius said with a smile.

"Yeah, after all you smile like that a lot, I shouldn't have made a fuss." Draco said wryly, "Why don't you look in the mirror? You look like someone who desperately needs to talk to someone." What life looks like—"

"Yes, I just want to talk to you about life."

"Oh, my life is a bit complicated, I don't know if you can understand it, especially when I heard that people's thinking ability and IQ will plummet in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol consumed last night after being drunk " Draco said, quickly bit the bread in his hand, then licked his lips, turned his head and glanced at the senior Slytherin beside him with the corner of his eye, who was not blinking look at him.

After a pause, Draco sighed and raised an eyebrow as if in compromise: "... tell me?"

Scorpius sat up straighter.

"Let me remind you first," Draco pinched a glass full of frozen fresh milk, and glanced at him from the beginning to the end with some vigilance, "If it involves a question that I don't want to answer, no matter how much you look like now How serious you want to know the answer, I still won't tell—"

"Did you kill Hagrid's cocks?"

"puff--"

The Prince Slytherin, who was raising his glass to sip the milk, unceremoniously spat a sip of milk back into the glass.

"Oh!—" He frowned as if throwing away the cup in self-loathing, turned his head and stared at Scorpius as if he had seen a ghost, and he couldn't help shouting a little too loudly in an extremely absurd tone, "What's wrong with you - why am I going to kill those cuties of the half-blood giant - oh, those feathers are flying around, smelling all over, eating and pulling all over the place where I live is full of feces biology!"

Scorpius pursed his lips tightly, because the disgust on Draco's face couldn't have looked more genuine at this moment - especially when he mentioned chicken shit.

Just looking at this point, it seems that he is not lying.

Killing some turkeys with his own hands was quite a difficult job for Draco—not to mention that Scorpius remembered that the turkey that Hagrid was carrying looked crooked at the time— It was obviously the result of being directly wrung out of the neck with his bare hands, but Draco would not do it - if he had to do it, he would choose some simple and "innocuous" black magic instead of doing it himself .

Thinking of this, Scorpius patted his forehead.

But at this time, his question had already aroused Draco's guard. He frowned and looked at the senior Slytherin beside him, who was suddenly enlightened. He stared at him for a long time, and then said abruptly : "It seems that you have discovered the secret of that diary."

"Oh? Uh-huh?--yes," said Scorpius, "Tom Riddle, a Slytherin student more than 20 years ago, probably a prefect or something, somehow made himself He entered his diary, but he was only worried about the school, when you were sleeping last night, he expressed his love for the school to me deeply, and asked me for help."

"..." Draco didn't speak, and looked at Scorpius with the corners of his lips tightly pursed for a while, and then he saw undisguised mockery in those black eyes as expected, so he relaxed a little and said lightly, "It seems that you didn't believe it, but that's correct. I think the so-called Riddle is probably a liar—although I'm curious about the efficacy of milk thistle he mentioned, and I want to try what he said True or false, but that's all - first of all, I don't care at all if Hogwarts is closed; second, I don't think rooster blood can wipe out any dangerous magical animals, no book ever mentions this , if there is, I can't miss it."

"..."

Scorpius' face was blank for a few seconds, and then he suddenly thought of a problem that he hadn't considered in his worries yesterday: Sometimes, the bully might have sympathy with the bully, but more often, the bully There is an absolute opposition between bullies and school bullies, because one mountain cannot accommodate two tigers.

Draco, for example, would never easily admit that someone his own age was more knowledgeable than he was.

That's the problem, Scorpius thought about it, and he was greatly relieved: he really was worrying too much.

After relaxing, the senior Slytherin seemed less tense than at the beginning, he sighed, and continued following the previous topic: "Milk thistle is also called snake thistle, and its only function is as a provoking agent in magical rituals. The medium of the snake exists."

"Yes, the 'snake' is also a creature that is afraid of roosters - so it seems that they have some connection - but then there is also a contradiction. If the creature we are facing is a snake, then the Riddle should be asking for a bunch of live, crowing roosters, not carcasses."

"Good analysis."

"So that Riddle is just a superficially learned liar—or he's got something else going on. A guy who'd shut himself up in a diary, and that's all I wouldn't trust him—I Dad reminded me that when I see an object that thinks for itself, I can't trust it until I figure out where its brain is."

"Mr. Malfoy is right," Scorpius said approvingly.

"And what's amazing is that this time your IQ kept up with the beat - instead of being dominated by the Gryffindor impulse in you - or the Hufflepuff stupidity, yesterday I slept soundly at night, if you go out in the middle of the night and do what the person in the diary said, no one knows what will happen."

"You sound like you're not really interested in what's going to happen," Scorpius looked at Draco suspiciously, "then why are you sneaking away to hide the milk thistle?"

"I'm just going to give it a try - when it's absolutely safe, and I'm still looking for the right time - in fact, I shouldn't be that curious, considering the safety factor is probably not too high, but I have to admit , when I was collecting that diary, I felt that my emotions were somewhat affected, and I became impulsive and irritable, like a madman who is gradually losing his mind." Draco said, as if he He was very calm during the whole process, and took a new cup while talking. This time, he swallowed a sip of milk into his throat safely, " I was going to wait until at least if something went wrong, someone could hear me when I called for help - but I probably won't go into that now, get out of the diary, Everything seems to be getting back under control—oh, speaking of which, where did you put that diary?"

"Throw it back to the girls' bathroom on the second floor."

"..."

Now Draco felt the urge to spit out the milk that had probably gone into his stomach.

He blinked, and stared at the senior Slytherin next to him as if he had seen a ghost, as if he couldn't believe his ears: "What did you say?"

"Throw it back to the girls' bathroom on the second floor," Scorpius said. "You analyzed it well before, but you missed a little-remember what happened on the day of the cleaning? Hagrid was literally wrung out cock with his neck cut off, and complaining about someone mass killing his cock, I went to Filch this morning and he wasn't very friendly, but he was willing to tell me that when Mrs. Norris was killed, in order to wash That blood on the wall took him a lot of time."

"Oh—" Draco made a hesitant expression.

"Why did the diary appear in the girls' bathroom on the second floor? Of course someone threw it in there, and Riddle obviously said the same thing to the man who killed the chicken and even used the blood of the chicken on the wall There were words written on it—he was confused, but soon for some reason he found something wrong in it, and he got scared and threw the diary away.”

Listening to Scorpius' words, he seemed to think of a scene where a student wrote on the wall with chicken blood, and Draco showed a disgusted expression: "Rein in the precipice."

"We don't know who that person is. I just hope that he will be guilty and come back to the girls' bathroom in a few days to confirm the situation of the diary," Scorpius touched his chin, "I think that That's what people do - if I'm not mistaken, he's probably pissed off - well, since he's a junior."

"What do you mean 'being scared to pee your pants' because he's a junior?" Prince Slytherin showed an offended expression, "Obviously you've overthought today, and your brain is exhausted. The warning makes you start talking gibberish."

"No, think about the line of bloody words when Mrs. Norris was attacked at first." Scorpius raised his hand and gestured, "The words are very low. If it was written by a senior, he was writing these words Normally, if we decide to write something on the wall, we subconsciously write it at the height of our head or at the level of our head."

"But--"

"But we can't rule out the possibility that he deliberately concealed it like this, I know." Scorpius interrupted Draco's rebuttal, "But I don't think so-the diary has a certain negative emotional impact, and Killing chickens or writing with chicken blood is not as simple as eating, even a senior student would be afraid and nervous, and he certainly wouldn't think about it that much."

"..."

Scorpius finished speaking in one breath, then closed his mouth.

At this time, the door of the auditorium was pushed open, and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley hurried in - but Scorpius didn't pay much attention to them, but when the door was knocked open, he was subconscious because of the noise He glanced over there, and then immediately turned his attention back to the food that was almost cooling in front of him. He used a fork to pick up a piece of fried egg and stuffed it into his mouth: "What do you think I'm going to eat?" How is the analysis?"

"Very good, your IQ has been super-extended today." Draco replied, but his tone sounded a little absent-minded.

Scorpius raised his eyebrows and looked up subconsciously. At this time, he was surprised to find that Draco was staring at the direction of the Gryffindor table as if fascinated - the seat where Potter was sitting. .

Scorpius snorted, stretched out his hand and pinched the thin, pale chin and twisted it to his side: "Look, after one Christmas, Potter has become astonishingly beautiful or something? "

"..." Draco looked disgusted enough, he slapped the paw pinched on his chin away without saying a word, frowned, grabbed the senior Slytherin's wrist with his backhand and tugged, and lowered his voice, "I don't think you can wait for the first owner of that diary to find it."

"What's wrong?" Scorpius asked inexplicably.

At this time, Draco raised his chin silently in the direction of Potter - looking in the direction he was pointing, Scorpius clearly saw that in the wolf-eating grid on the table In Lanffindor's hand, there was a black notebook upright. The notebook looked damp, and the paper was yellowed, wrinkled and glued together.

Scorpius: "Oh."

Draco: "How?"

Scorpius: "...the gears of fate are starting to turn."

Prince Slytherin rolled his eyes: "... read less of those whimsical Muggle cartoons, and you'll look a little more normal."