Chapter 438: Two Prophecies
Chapter 438: Two Prophecies
Draco Malfoy was in a foul mood. Ever since Gryffindor's effortless victory over Hufflepuff, his spirits had been at an all-time low.
Malfoy simply couldn't believe that, even with Professor Snape officiating the match, Hufflepuff had lost so decisively and swiftly. They were the epitome of uselessness.
For days, Malfoy and the rest of Slytherin had been badmouthing the Hufflepuffs, well aware that students from other houses wished to see Slytherin lose the Quidditch Cup and perhaps even the House Cup this year. They were jealous of Slytherin's prowess, and as their schemes seemed to be coming to fruition, Malfoy felt nothing but anger.
In Malfoy's heart, Slytherin was always the best house, and Gryffindor was only good enough to be their stepping stone.
There were other reasons for Malfoy's irritability. On the day of the Quidditch match, his eyes had been bruised black and blue by that Weasley scum.
Although Madam Pomfrey had healed the bruises, Malfoy still felt a lingering pain in his eyes.
"Damn Weasley, damn Gryffindor!" As Malfoy gently rubbed his swollen right eye and muttered under his breath, a fat cat sauntered towards him from the end of the corridor. It was a comical-looking fat cat, unlike any he had ever seen.
Everyone knew that there was only one cat like that in Hogwarts, and it belonged to the genius of Gryffindor, Albert Anderson.
Albert Anderson! The mere thought of the name soured Malfoy's mood further. He hadn't forgotten the unforgettable memory of the anonymous gift he received during the Christmas holidays. The cockroaches that crawled out of the gift package still haunted his dreams, lingering as a dark shadow in his heart.
"Grab that fat cat!" Malfoy suddenly instructed Crabbe and Goyle, who were by his side. He knew that the damn Muggle-born wizard doted on his cat. While he didn't intend to kill a cat, he wanted to hide it so that the Muggle-born wizard would be unable to find his precious pet. Malfoy couldn't wait to see the anxious expression on that detestable wizard's face.
Crabbe and Goyle hesitated, as they had both heard that Albert was not someone to be trifled with.
"I just want to play with it," Malfoy said, sensing their hesitation and cursing them as cowards in his mind. "I'm just going to invite it to our common room for a visit."
As the two prepared to seize Tom, the fat cat seemed to sense their malicious intent and quickly turned tail and scampered away.
"Get that cat!"
Just as Malfoy was about to draw his wand to immobilize Tom, a chillingly indifferent voice rang out, "What do you plan to do to my cat?"
Crabbe and Goyle looked at Albert, halting their pursuit of the cat.
"Meow!"
Tom immediately hid behind Albert's legs, poking his head out to glare at his pursuers while rubbing against Albert's legs, seemingly tattling on the three bullies.
"Draco Malfoy, is it?" Albert bent down to pick up his cat, then straightened up and fixed the blond boy with an oppressive stare. "From now on, if anything happens to my cat, I will hold you responsible."
"Are you threatening me?" Malfoy clenched his lips tightly, forcing himself to stand his ground and stare back at Albert.
"No, I'm merely stating a fact." Albert took a few steps forward, his eyes growing colder and more oppressive—a chilling indifference born from having taken lives. Under Albert's intense gaze, Malfoy found himself trembling.
"What are you lot doing here?"
A stern voice cut through the darkness like a torch, and Malfoy felt all the pressure lift from his shoulders. He took a deep breath and turned to the newcomer, "Professor Snape, he's threatening me."
"Gryffindor loses ten points, Mr. Anderson. Bullying a first-year is unacceptable..." As Snape locked eyes with Albert, he abruptly stopped mid-sentence, sensing the same chilling indifference in the boy's gaze.
Ignoring Snape, Albert walked up to Malfoy and said in a hoarse, distant voice, "Things associated with your name will bring about an unexpected journey. Cursed blood does not grant immortality, and you will bear witness as he accompanies you. Stay away from that shadow, lest the conspiracy consume you and bring about death—for you or for others."
Malfoy froze, standing there dumbfounded. He didn't understand what Albert meant, but the boy's words left him with an awful feeling.
Albert glanced at Snape and turned to leave.
"Stop right there!"
Snape was seething, his entire body trembling with rage. Never had anyone dared to disregard him so blatantly. Moreover, Albert's words sounded like a ridiculous prophecy, and although Snape didn't believe the boy could predict the future, he was a firm believer in prophecies. There was one prophecy, in particular, that he regretted hearing for his entire life.
"Oh, looks like you could use one too, doesn't it?" Albert paused and turned, his eyes locking with Snape's. A faint smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he said, "Very well, consider this a one-time service. Next time, I'll have to charge you."
"Playing prophet, are we?" Snape sputtered, his body shaking with fury.
Albert ignored Snape's outburst, his voice taking on a distant, hollow tone, "Beware of black and white. Stay away from the cursed lesson, for when your wish is granted, death will be near."
With that, Albert walked away, cradling his cat in his arms.
The students in the corridor who had witnessed the entire scene were left stunned, mouths agape as they watched the retreating figure. They had never imagined that even Snape would be given the cold shoulder by Albert.
"That was so cool!"
Harry, his voice lowered with excitement, whispered to Ron as he watched Malfoy's pale face.
"Do you think those prophecies are real?" Hermione was more curious about Albert's so-called prophecies—one for Malfoy and one for Snape, both foretelling unpleasant outcomes.
"I don't know!" Ron quickly snapped out of his daze, responding to Harry and Hermione. "Fred and George always say that Albert's predictions are spot on."
He glanced at Malfoy, who was walking towards them, and said loud enough for the blond boy to hear, "But I've heard that pretty much all non-joking prophecies come true. They believe Albert has the power to prophesize."
Malfoy's face darkened at the comment.
"He's terrified!" Hermione whispered, watching Malfoy's retreating back. "Didn't you see his expression..."
"The cursed lesson refers to..." Harry, ignoring Hermione, turned to Ron.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ron replied, growing more excited as he spoke. "They say the Defense Against the Dark Arts class is cursed. Our previous professor even went missing because of it, allegedly due to the curse. You know, I've heard that Snape has always wanted to teach that subject. If this prophecy is true, then the day Snape takes up that position, he'll be as good as dead."
"That would be fantastic!"
Chapter end
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