Chapter 653: Catch Him
A pair of eyes—hidden within the crack!
Perhaps it was the recent practice of the Cruciatus Curse that had twisted the students’ minds into fear-laden fantasies. The moment one student saw those eyes, he gasped sharply, his throat constricting as if gripped by an invisible hand. His voice vanished, trapped in his chest.
…
Draco, distracted by the voices from Theo Nott’s side, hadn’t realized he’d been discovered.
He stared at the group tormenting the mouse with the Cruciatus Curse, jaw clenched, fingers instinctively clenching his wand. The wand trembled violently in his grip.
To be honest, he’d imagined this moment countless times in his mind—seeing Crabbe, Braith, Weasley, Potter, and others writhing in agony at his feet, begging for mercy.
But now, staring at a living creature convulsing on the ground, listening to its ragged, pained screams, Draco swallowed hard. His face paled further, a sickly grayish hue creeping into his skin.
Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, splattering onto the filthy pipe below with a soft plink.
…
The eyes in the crack blinked. Deep red streaks clung to the folds of the eyelids like dried blood.
Fear exploded through him like freezing water flooding his veins. The student’s legs gave way, and he screamed—raw, heart-wrenching—“Ah—there’s an eye! There’s an eye there!”
The scream ricocheted through the narrow space. Those nearby jumped in alarm, while others instinctively turned to look where he pointed.
Draco reacted a beat too late. By the time he scrambled backward, others had already seen it.
Unlike the first student, who’d been consumed by terror, the rest reacted swiftly.
“Someone’s inside! Watching us! Catch him!”
“Boom—!”
As Draco lunged forward, the wire mesh at the pipe’s opening burst open behind him. A figure climbed up, peering inside.
“Right there! I saw him!”
He raised his wand, shouting, “Stupefy—cough, cough, cough!”
A sudden, pale white figure shot through the center of the pipe—Moaning Myrtle. She exhaled with all her might, sending up a storm of dust that had collected over decades. The man choking on the cloud, his spell cut short, stumbled back, gasping.
She blocked the entrance, shielding Draco. No one could attack him directly now, and the winding passage gave him a clear path forward—no spell could hit him head-on.
Moaning Myrtle drifted beside Draco, her translucent form spinning sideways. She giggled. “Well? If it weren’t for me, you’d be caught!”
“Shut up—hurry!” Draco snapped, turning just in time to see thick, oily smoke rolling toward him like a living shadow.
“Damn it! These bastards aren’t letting me go!”
His voice cracked, cold gray eyes flashing with panic. He crawled forward on all fours, but the smoke closed in fast.
He coughed violently—“Cough, cough… these… cough… madmen…”
“Don’t be afraid!” Moaning Myrtle floated beside him, her body half-transparent, merging with the stone wall. “Follow me! I know a way out!”
…
“Viper” was Percy Rosen, a seventh-year Slytherin. He turned slowly, his cold eyes sweeping over the others in the chamber.
Behind him, the pipe’s entrance burned with flames—torn robes, backpacks, and personal belongings reduced to ash. Another Slytherin student cast a spell, directing the smoke toward the direction the intruder had fled.
“We were seen,” Rosen said calmly. “That student saw us practicing Unforgivable Curses. If he reports us to Dumbledore, everyone here will be expelled. Maybe even thrown into Azkaban.”
The others panicked. “What do we do?”
One voice trembled with hope: “I—I didn’t even take off my hood…”
The exposed student scoffed. “And if he’s caught, do you really think he’ll keep your identity secret?”
Silence fell.
Everyone knew what kind of people they were. Talking about loyalty, friendship, or promises was just wishful thinking.
And even if someone wanted to stay silent, there were too many ways to extract secrets.
“Catch him!” Rosen said, voice like ice. “If we catch him before he can inform, our secret stays safe.”
Wade nudged Antoine.
Antoine raised his voice. “And after we catch him—how do we make sure he doesn’t talk?”
Pansy’s expression darkened. “There might be only one way…”
She didn’t finish. Glancing at the others, she added, “But if a student dies at school… it could bring worse consequences.”
Someone argued back, “Moaning Myrtle died here years ago—nothing happened.”
“No need to kill,” Rosen said. “I can Obliviate him.”
Obliviate was dangerous. A poorly cast spell could erase too much memory—worse, it could scar the mind.
But forgetting a few things was infinitely better than murder.
The hesitation vanished. Even the wavering students now stood firm.
“I’ve got a Tracking Charm,” someone declared. “Follow me!”
The others surged out of the Chamber of Secrets.
As they exited, Wade tugged on Antoine’s sleeve, whispering quickly, “Create some trouble. Delay them.”
Antoine blinked. “You’re going to save the intruder? That’s your friend?”
“Not really,” Wade said. “It’s Draco Malfoy.”
He hadn’t cared about Malfoy’s fate in Slytherin—how he’d survive the venomous snakes just beginning to rise.
But Lucius Malfoy had been in Dumbledore’s office just hours ago. He might even be allied with the Phoenix Society now.
And under those circumstances, Wade couldn’t let his son be caught in school.
With that, Wade veered off down a different path, vanishing into the shadows.
Antoine blinked again, then raised his wand beneath his cloak.
The lead student suddenly tripped—accidentally.
The others behind couldn’t stop. They tumbled into a heap, groaning and cursing, blocking the entire corridor.
…
“Split-into-Parts Spell!”
The wand’s beam sliced through the rusted iron grating.
Draco tumbled out of the pipe like a ragdoll, landing hard on the cold stone floor. He curled forward, coughing violently. His pale golden hair clung to his face, matted with sweat and soot—disheveled, shaken.
Just then—
A hand shot out from behind him, clamping down hard on his neck!
(End of Chapter)
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