Chapter 403: Poor Draco, Manipulated in the Palm of Their Hands

Chapter 403: Poor Draco, Manipulated in the Palm of Their Hands

“So, Trixie, can I call you that?”

“Of course, sir.”

“As a trade, you don’t have to call me sir. Just call me Sherlock.”

“No problem, Sherlock.”

Within two minutes, Sherlock was chatting away with the girl named Trixie.

The little girl was in the middle of losing her baby teeth, and when she spoke, the missing front teeth made her words sound slightly whistling.

However, this didn’t make her harder to understand; instead, it added a touch of cuteness.

“What about this big brother?”

She tilted her head and looked at Draco, clearly interested in him.

Sherlock didn’t prompt Draco to introduce himself but turned his gaze to Draco along with Trixie’s. This attention made Draco, who had no intention of acknowledging the girl, respond stiffly.

“Draco Malfoy.”

“You look a lot like Beech,” Trixie said seriously.

“Is Beech your friend?” Sherlock asked.

Draco gave her a disdainful glance, as if being compared to Beech was a grave insult.

Trixie shook her head.

“No, Beech isn’t my friend. It never wants to play with us. Only Aunt Chris can pet it.”

The word “it” made both Sherlock and Draco pause for a moment. Then Trixie pointed to a sunny window.

“Look, that’s Beech. It’s not cute at all.”

On the windowsill she pointed to, a British Blue cat was lounging lazily in the sunlight, occasionally turning its head to look at the children in the classroom with a look of disdain and contempt. It really did resemble Draco’s expression!

Sherlock burst out laughing, while Draco’s face darkened instantly.

Seeing Sherlock laugh, Trixie’s face lit up with a somewhat silly smile.

Only Draco, seething with anger, couldn’t do anything about it. If not for the rules Sherlock laid down before entering, he would have already pointed his wand at Trixie and cast a hex on her, especially if she were a student at Hogwarts.

In front of Trixie were some scattered twigs. The other children her age had already started weaving baskets, but Trixie hadn’t touched hers.

“Miss Haley just showed us how to weave, but I was watching Beech yawn, so I didn’t learn how to do it,” the little girl admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

Although Sherlock had warned Draco not to use magic or lose his temper in front of these Muggle children, Draco felt he had found an opportunity to mock her.

He sneered.

“It’s because you’re a stupid child. Only a stupid child would not pay attention in class and fail to complete the assignment.”

He seemed to relish the thought of seeing Trixie on the verge of tears, but in reality, after hearing Draco’s taunts, she just blinked and stared at him.

After a while, Draco couldn’t stand her gaze and snapped.

“What are you staring at?”

Trixie tilted her head.

“So, is Draco a stupid child?”

Hearing her call him by his first name, Draco became even more agitated.

“Call me Mr. Malfoy!”

“Is Mr. Malfoy a stupid child?” Trixie didn’t dwell on the formality but asked curiously.

“Of course not! I’m an excellent student at Hogwarts, always ranking at the top of my year!”

Sherlock, as a professor, could vouch for the truth of this claim.

But Trixie said seriously.

“But learning and weaving a basket are different. Weaving a basket is a difficult task, and Mr. Malfoy might not be able to prove that he’s not a stupid child by weaving a basket.”

Such a naive statement only made Draco sneer.

“You’re a frog at the bottom of a well. It’s because you don’t know what the real world is like that you can feel a sense of achievement in something as simple as weaving a basket.”

“But Mr. Malfoy can’t weave a basket either, can you?”

“Who says I can’t!”

Draco, seemingly enraged by Trixie’s regretful tone, grabbed the twigs in front of her and started weaving. His technique was clumsy but methodical.

As a young master born with a silver spoon, Draco had never done such a Muggle craft. However, while Sherlock was chatting with Trixie, Draco had watched the other children fumbling with their baskets out of boredom. This craft wasn’t difficult, and he had picked up the basics just by watching.

Watching the two interact, Sherlock remained silent the entire time. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of Draco, who still hadn't realized he had fallen into Trixie's "trap."

This little girl was far from the silly, gap-toothed smile she put on; it was her best disguise for being clever and mischievous.

The provocation might seem crude to adults, but it had Draco right where she wanted him.

Noticing Sherlock's gaze, Trixie looked up and gave him that slightly comical smile again.

Sherlock didn't expose her. Instead, he reached out and gently patted her hair.

To prove that he wasn't the clueless kid Trixie made him out to be, Draco meticulously wove the basket, making it far more beautiful than any of the other children's.

When he placed the finished product on Trixie's table, there was no arrogance on his face, only disdain.

Weaving a basket was a trivial task. If something so simple could make the young Master Malfoy feel proud, it would be quite beneath his dignity.

Trixie, however, didn't hold back her admiration.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're so amazing! How did you manage to make it so beautiful?"

"Hmph."

Draco only grunted, his head held high and silent.

At that moment, Miss Haley, who had been checking the older children's work from the back, came over with the collected assignments.

She was genuinely surprised by the basket on Trixie's desk.

"Really well done, Trixie."

Trixie beamed, her gap-toothed smile wide.

"It's all thanks to Mr. Malfoy."

Miss Haley smiled and nodded at Draco, expressing her gratitude.

She still thought Draco was just a cold but kind-hearted boy who had helped Trixie with the basket.

Miss Haley left with the basket, and Draco, no matter how slow, finally realized something was off.

His face darkened, and he glared angrily at Trixie.

"You set me up!"

Trixie looked bewildered, her large eyes blinking as if she didn't understand what Draco was saying.

"Does Mr. Malfoy want a trap? But Trixie doesn't have one."

Seeing her innocent act, Draco hesitated again.

He wondered if he was just being paranoid. After all, how could such a young child trick him?

In the end, he retracted his suspicious gaze and resumed his arrogant demeanor.

Sherlock couldn't hold back a laugh. He ruffled Trixie's hair and then took Draco's arm.

"Alright, we'll see you later, Trixie. Now we need to help Aunt Chris prepare lunch."

The little girl politely waved at them, and Sherlock led Draco toward the kitchen.

After helping Aunt Chris and Miss Haley serve lunch to the children, Sherlock and Draco spent the afternoon helping to clear the snow from the yard. Since they couldn't use magic, it took them the entire afternoon to clear the area.

Draco, though grumbling the whole time, didn't slack off and worked hard alongside Sherlock to clean up the snow.

They finally finished their volunteer work by evening.

Before leaving the orphanage, Aunt Chris selected two baskets from the children's morning craft projects to give to them as keepsakes. Draco's was the one he had woven himself that day.

To make it easier to Apparate, Sherlock led Draco away from the orphanage to a secluded spot.

"How was today?" Sherlock asked as they walked.

Draco's face was grim. "Terrible."

"But these children weren't as low and stupid as you thought, were they?" Sherlock said with a smile. "Trixie is ten years younger than you, yet she managed to trick you into helping her with her craft project."

Hearing Sherlock's words, Draco's expression turned from shock to rage.

"She was definitely tricking me!"

"As a pure-blood wizard, an elite species, how does it feel to be outsmarted by a child who's still losing her baby teeth, Draco?" Sherlock asked with a grin.

Draco looked furious, his face flushed. If it weren't for Sherlock being right there, he might have already gone back to the orphanage to confront Trixie.

Sherlock, of course, wouldn't give him that chance. After finding a suitable spot, he grabbed Draco's arm and led him back to the gates of Hogwarts, returning to the castle.

"That's it for today. If you have any more questions about your studies, feel free to come to my office. And don't forget to think about what I told you today."

Sherlock and Draco parted ways in the corridor near the castle's entrance hall.

The Slytherin common room was underground. Draco still had a cold expression on his face as he carried the basket he had woven himself back to the dormitory.

His roommates, Goyle and Blaise, were not around. It was almost dinner time, and according to their habits, they would have gone to the Great Hall early to wait.

Draco lifted the basket in his hand, and the scene from this morning, where he had been toyed with by the girl named Trixie, immediately flashed through his mind.

This made Draco feel a wave of embarrassment and anger. He raised his wand, instinctively ready to cast a Reducing Charm to destroy this symbol of his humiliation.

But just as he was about to utter the spell, Draco noticed a piece of paper tucked between the wicker branches.

He hesitated for a moment, then put his wand down and reached into the basket to retrieve the paper.

The note contained only a short sentence, as if the person who wrote it only knew these few words.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

At the end of the thank you note, there was a crude drawing of a cat face.

The disdainful and proud eyes were unmistakably those of Beech, the blue cat that didn't like playing with children.

Draco stared at the note in his hand, not blinking, lost in thought.

Finally, he put the note back into the basket, not destroying it, but placing it in his desk drawer.

When Sherlock returned to his office, he saw Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, floating in front of his door, as if waiting for him.

"Sir Nicholas, is there something you need?"

Nick's broad face broke into a smile when he saw Sherlock.

Although he was the Gryffindor ghost, Nick and Sherlock had always had a good relationship, as he enjoyed being called Sir Nicholas.

"It's not that I need anything, Professor Forrest. It's Dumbledore. He sent me to find you right after lunch. You're finally back."

Hearing that Dumbledore wanted to see him, Sherlock didn't linger. He just changed into his wizard robes and headed for the Headmaster's Office.

He knew exactly what Dumbledore had been busy with lately, and the only reason Dumbledore would call him was that there had been a new discovery regarding the Horcruxes.

When Sherlock arrived at the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore was looking down at a notice, which seemed to be from either the Ministry of Magic or the International Confederation of Wizards. Seeing Sherlock knock and enter, Dumbledore's face broke into a smile.

"You took the Malfoy boy out today?"

"I took him to a Muggle orphanage to do a day of volunteer work. I hope it gave him something to think about. I believe today's experience should be memorable for him."

They didn't talk much about Draco. Dumbledore quickly got to the point.

"Regarding what I mentioned earlier, I have discovered one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and I have determined its location."

This was undoubtedly good news.

Based on their deductions from Slughorn's memories, Voldemort had created six Horcruxes. With the three that had already been destroyed, the locations of the remaining ones were now mostly confirmed.

Apart from Nagini, who was always with Voldemort and thus out of reach, the Horcrux hidden in the Room of Requirement was safe within Hogwarts, leaving only the one Dumbledore had discovered!

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end