Bride of the HP Dragon

"I bet you don't dare."

Draco grimaced, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Blaise laughed, a ringing, infectious laugh that echoed pleasantly in the wooden living room: "From the moment we open this box, it's not going to be a good idea. Come on." Now, Malfoy, where's your sense of adventure?"

Draco didn't feel the need to explain to Zabini that his own sense of adventure was proportional to his father's proximity at any given time.

Blaise's father, Anton, is visiting Malfoy Manor to discuss business with Lucius.The two men were in Lucius' favorite study, ostensibly talking about imports and Galleons, and how to make the two equal and beneficial.

Narcissa was in the kitchen overseeing the team of house-elf cooks preparing dinner, and in the evenings there would be more business guests at the estate, and Pansy would be there with her father.

Draco didn't really want to see Pansy at the time, even though she announced "something important".He couldn't imagine any further news from her, considering he had been receiving no fewer than three letters a week since the school holidays before January.

The boys were then told to play elsewhere.

Draco made a mockery of mentioning the chest, a handmade relic of Salazar Slytherin that Lucius had managed to acquire recently.Until further notice, this completely illegal item is currently being stashed away in a living room on the first floor.

Blaise was insanely curious, and they threw the broom and sneaked back to the house through Draco's open bedroom window, Blaise kept from laughing, and also signaled Draco not to laugh.

"It's ugly," Draco commented when they took the relic out of the box.

"I think he's beautiful, really," Blaise retorted.

The boys walked around the work, which was like a giant clay pot, almost as tall as Blaise and Draco.There are four holes in the jar, each carved into the neck of the jar.It was impossible to see what was inside, as it was pitch black, even though Draco had pointed his wand at the opening.

There is nothing but dense and thick darkness, and the surface of the jar is full of writhing, joyful snakes crawling.They hissed with forked tongues every time the boys approached.Runes were inscribed on the pots, but the boys were only in second grade and hadn't started Ancient Runes yet.

Blaise suggested looking for a book, but the appropriate books were in the library in the West Wing, and if you went there, you would run into their father.

"What do you think Slytherins are doing with it?"

Draco shrugged: "Maybe it's used to distinguish the grass from the wall."

Blaise wrinkled his nose. "A loyalty test works."

"Not just to minions, I've heard it kills you if you fail. Once I understand how it works, put your hand in it. If your allegiance is true, nothing will happen. If not, just Bad things will happen."

"Why are you unhappy?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Don't know, maybe you'll be red and freckled, like Weasley."

Blaise chuckled. "Then I'd rather die."

Draco grinned, "Me too."

"I want to know what's in it..."

"Zabini, can you leave? We shouldn't be here, if my father finds out..."

"Just tell him it was my idea."

Draco snorted: "He can't confirm with you if you're dead, right?"

Blaise looked at him confidently: "Oh, nothing will happen, I'm loyal."

Draco watched in horror as his friend stuck his hand into one of the holes, up to his elbow.The jars were for testing adults, not boys, but Draco noticed that if the laws of Muggle physics were true, Blaise's fingers should be able to stick out the other side.

but no.

Nothing happened for two or three heartbeats, and then Blaise wobbled a little, frowning.

Draco rushed forward: "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, but it feels... cold."

"Okay, okay, get your hands out, Zabini!"

"Why? Nothing happened, maybe it was just a…"

He hadn't finished the sentence when Blaise let out a bloodcurdling scream, sucking his remaining arm up to his shoulder into the jar.He tried to pull it out, but was held tightly.

Draco grabbed his friend in horror, grabbing the boy's arm desperately, but to no avail.

Blaise slumped over the jar, held up the grasped hand, and let out a whimper.

"What happened?" Draco asked, but Blaise couldn't answer him.

Draco was horrified to see why, every vein in Blaise's face burst out, his eyeballs were sunken in their sockets, looking haggard and emaciated, and the jar looked like it was about to suck the life out of him.

Sensing Blaise's screams, the children's father rushed into the room, which was quite a distance from the study, and the two men appeared to be running with all their might.

Lucius took one look at the situation, then began to curse.Pushing Draco away, he took a poker from the fireplace and poked it into the jar, which should have shattered, but there wasn't even a crack.

He tried again, but it didn't work.The snake on the jar began to hiss from this repeated atrocity, and Lucius dropped the poker, trying to pull Blaise's arm out of the jar, as Draco had done before, luckily with his son Same bad.

Blaise looked melted, and Lucius tried the spell.Draco could barely make out what spell his father was using because he spoke so fast.

Still useless, Blaise was already on the brink of death.

Anton Zabini was devastated, but Draco couldn't help noticing that he hadn't even been near the jar or his son.

"Malfoy, for heaven's sake...do something!"

Lucius' wand dropped: "What are you going to do, Anton? You and I both know it won't let go unless it ends on its own."

The two men stood and watched, Anton weeping breathlessly.

Draco couldn't believe it, were they just standing there?Why don't they let it stop!

Horrible, but sure, if no one did something quickly, Blaise would be a mummified corpse, and Draco ran forward and stuck his hand through the hole opposite the jar.

He heard his father yell and felt Lucius' hand pull him.

Blaise was right, it was like dipping his hand into the ice, the suction was so frighteningly strong that he felt his arm being ripped off his shoulder.

Draco yelped in pain, but he felt he had made a mistake, simply thinking about loyal thoughts wasn't enough to make the effect of the pot go away, and he felt his fingers touch Blaise's, his friend's hand It feels skinny and fragile.

When Draco held on to Blaise, he was desperate to let go.

Blaise was instantly released and freed from the jar.The force of his grip on Draco's hand left Draco completely sprained and dislocated his shoulder.

The pain is indescribable.

The boys woke up and found themselves in a private ward in St. Mungo's, where Lucius had brought them, and they must be in bad shape, because old-fashioned families prefer to call in their own private doctors.

An older female doctor in a blue smock came in and examined them before announcing that she was returning them to their respective parents.

Draco wished she wouldn't do that, he didn't want to see his father's angry face.

Blaise sat up, still looking bad.His face was sunken, and there were deep dark circles around his eye sockets.Draco didn't think he'd be able to get over the fact that Blaise was nearly drained of life anytime soon, as if the devil had planted a straw in you and sucked it.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"You saved my life." Blaise said hoarsely.

Draco scowled, he was really angry: "Yes, I saved you from the giant vase that sucked people dry, I hope you realize how much trouble I am now."

Blaise's eyes were astonishingly deep because of his pale face: "This is a wizard's favor, Malfoy, I owe you."

"Whatever! I almost lost my arm because of you, Zabini. My red arm! Did you hear what the doctor just said? It's never going to heal, how am I going to play Quidditch with this arm, ah?"

The other boy didn't expect the accident to be so costly, and Draco was also responsible for his negligence, his eyes a little manic.

"Didn't you find out? You passed the test! You are loyal."

"That big fat Hagrid would do too."

"Draco?"

"What?" Draco was busy tugging at the pillow behind him, with one hand.He didn't mind seeing his mother now, because no one could fold pillows as well as she could.

"Could you not tell anyone else what happened today?"

Draco wouldn't tell the whole school about this secret, so his father could still keep this dangerous thing hidden at home, but he was still curious about Blaise's motives.

"Why not?"

Blaise looked at him with a knowing expression: "Because I failed the test, because I'm not as loyal as you."

Who or what did Draco want to be loyal to.If he asked the question aloud, it would be overkill, and he knew Blaise didn't know the answer either.

And Draco couldn't help remembering that neither of their fathers tried Draco's last move.Why?Especially Anton Zabini, he was terrified.

His only son was dying, and all he could do was fear.

Draco wondered if Lucius would stick his hand in, if it was Draco who was the victim, but maybe doubting his own father was a horrible thing to do.

Maybe the original intention of this jar was not about loyalty, maybe it was about faith.

As Ginny walked into the Great Hall to join her classmates for dinner, her disturbed thoughts were glued to Harry.

Dumbledore's threats were effective, and a dozen or so students were seated at the long Slytherin table covered with a formal snow-white tablecloth.Soup was the first course, and she nodded distractedly as she passed her brother, then stopped abruptly when she saw Harry.

"Harry!" she cried, "how did you... when did you..."

Harry put down the brioche bun, winked at her, and asked politely if Hermione was following.

The bewildered look on Harry's face, the school uniform he was wearing had been torn in Ron and Draco's afternoon scuffle, left Ginny out of breath.

She touched her lips with her hand, only fear.

"Ginny?" Harry stood up because of her frightened expression, and he didn't get an answer because Ginny ran to the teacher's desk.

"Professor Dumbledore, there's an intruder in the castle!" Ginny told the Headmaster breathlessly.

It was enough to make it clear to everyone in the Great Hall that all the dinner noise had suddenly ceased and that Dondice Dodds had dropped his spoon.

"What do you mean, Miss Weasley?" asked Albus Dumbledore in a serious tone.

"Someone... Let's put it this way, I let someone into Gryffindor House, and I thought he was Harry, because, he is Harry! But that's impossible, because Harry is here!" She snapped Pointing pointedly at Harry, who was stunned, his expression was exactly that of a mongoose.

"Professor, Hermione Granger is still upstairs!"

Dumbledore had already stood up: "Minova, please inform Alastor Moody. He should still be in the Ministry of Magic, if not, call Kingsley Shacklebolt. Remus, Severus , can you accompany me to Gryffindor Tower immediately?"

Snape quickly glanced at the students present: "Besides, two prefects are not here, Miss Parkinson!" He yelled suddenly, his eyes on the only senior Slytherin present: "Malfoy, Where are Zabini and Gregory Goyle?"

Pansy stared coldly at her pea and ham soup and sighed.

Hermione?

Something was wrong, Draco turned in vain and took a few steps back to the castle, but he stopped again.

What am I doing?

He shook his head, his fists loosening and tightening, trying to shake off the odd feeling of having to find Hermione to make sure she was okay, which of course she was.

She was at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was back, Oro had just left school, and Potter was looking after her.

She is safe.

So why do I feel like I fell off the roof and only managed to save myself from hitting the ground?

Damn, he's suddenly out of the mood.

Pay attention, Malfoy.He was starting to feel nervous, he was worried about her, and Hermione was always worrying, wasn't she?The sooner he and Goyle got back together, the sooner he could complete his bastard deal with the Ministry of Magic and return to his own life.Then he can spend the rest of his life worrying about her peacefully.

Draco almost laughed at the thought.

He took out Pansy's crappy map and looked at it again by the light of his wand.

Pansy was far from being an organized and meticulous person, and Hermione had brought Hogsmeade's map into Dumbledore's office when the Dark Mark first appeared.Draco was a little annoyed, if the map was drawn to a certain scale, it must be from Pansy's own standards, Hogwarts already took up half of the Forbidden Forest, and Black Lake was drawn like Hogsmeade Big nasty puddles on the side.

By his own calculations, he was eight minutes away from the castle.

Well, the 8-minute journey refers to his own footsteps.

Pansy said fifteen minutes, which meant he was almost there, a guiding spell would confirm.

Draco took off his hood and turned around in a circle.

What about the damn European sorbet?All he could make out were oaks, willows, and a large clump of shrubs.He stuffed the map back into his pants pocket, trying to recall what else Pansy had said.

Unless you see it with your own eyes, you won't know where it is, it will sneak up on you.

Incredibly, Draco imagined a wickedly grinning demon tree, tiptoing around the Forbidden Forest on its own roots, and stalking the distraught Death Eaters that filled the woods looking for it.

Just as he was thinking about it, it appeared, and Draco let out a cry and stepped back.

Pansy wasn't kidding, the tree should have been there all along, and Draco was pretty sure there was nothing in that spot for a few minutes.

It was indeed a sorrel, looking like the wicked and dreadful Whomping Willow.

Draco walked cautiously, looking for any sign of the Portkey.

The tree itself couldn't possibly be the Portkey, he didn't think the Portkey would be a living thing, and taking a deep breath, Draco pressed his gloved hand to the trunk and was slightly relieved that nothing happened .

Was it his illusion, or did the tree really open up its canopy excitedly?

"There, there it is, what a fine tree," he murmured, best not to provoke the tree.The tree's branches were strong enough to lift him up and throw him back at Hogwarts.

After a short hesitation, Draco felt stupid, he put his palm on the trunk and patted it, the tree shook and dropped a few leaves.Draco wondered if it was simply a magical creature or if it happened to be an offshoot of the Death Eaters.

He silently thought of another possibility, perhaps their descendants.

Only as he gazed at the tree did an ominous crunch come from the topmost branch.Something was reflecting the moonlight, shining among the leaves and blood-red flowers.

A thick gold chain swung back and forth in the swaying canopy.

Is that a pendant?No, it was a coin, and coins were always a popular material for portkeys.

Draco knew he had found what he wanted, and it hung there temptingly and adventurously, just above his head.

But the tree didn't seem to be happy to give it to him.

He has to climb up.

Sighing in pain, Draco rolled up his sleeves and began to approach the Portkey.

Damn Goyle, damn not carrying a broom.

Portkeys are a complex form of magic that incorporates an understanding of distance and space.For ordinary Muggles, this basically means that you must be good at solving a difficult math problem, but for wizards, it depends on how powerful the spell is and how to arrange the distance to enter the portal.

This kind of magic requires a lot of power to perform, so it usually cannot be located in crowded people or areas with dense magic, otherwise the portal will malfunction due to environmental interference.

And the failures are varied, a user may find themselves several kilometers away in an unintended area, or they may arrive at their destination with their handbag or shoes missing (and in one famous case, lost is the nose).

For these reasons, the Ministry of Magic has strict regulations on the making and use of these items.For example, at the Quidditch World Cup, you have to give the Ministry of Magic experts three months' notice so they can map out the exact origin and destination.

Draco hated portkeys.

While the pros outweigh the cons, a big downside is that it makes you feel like you've been gutted by a fishhook and quickly swept away by a furious, invisible force.

And the truth was that Draco hadn't once landed nicely on his own feet after the teleportation ended.

Admittedly, this is a big question.

He was nimble on the ground, and in the air, but every time he used the Portkey, for some reason he kept landing on his ass.

This time was no different, Draco suddenly landed on a mound in the woods, maybe he was still in the Forbidden Forest, because it looked like it.He gritted his teeth and rolled when he touched the ground, his wand ready.He drew the hood of his cloak over his pale hair, and hid himself.

It was clear that no one was there, but footprints and traces on the ground indicated that this place was used a lot, and it was best to leave before the next traveler arrived.

After Draco recognized the position, he dusted off the dust on his body.Judging from the position of the moon, the weather and the local vegetation and smells, he knew right away that he was not very far from Hogwarts.To his surprise, he also found a Muggle road nearby.The sound is noisy, it seems very lively.Only when the wind changed direction could he make out the voices.

Knowing where he was, he found himself under a small dirt slope.After climbing hard for a while, the plants began to become sparse, and finally a three to four-story stone building appeared.

This is an old crumbling castle, not big enough to be a castle at close range, more like a fortress or relic of an old stone manor.

Draco waited a few minutes in the shadows of the woods, searching the area as he went.It looks like there are no guards, but there are lights upstairs.

There were people inside, but there was no movement, it seems that these bastards didn't set up any sentries.Draco took advantage of the terrain to hide behind a tree, desperately trying to find a suitable spell.

"Smoke Pathfinder." He thought for a while and cast a spell under his breath. (Translator's Note: Fumeus Acclaro, the author's own Latin spell)

A puff of smoke streamed from the tip of his staff, and Draco let it lie low to the ground.The smoke slowly climbed up the stone wall without hindrance, thankfully there were no discernible safeguards, or the smoke spell would have run into obstacles.

So far so good.

But somewhere inside he was still terribly scared, Draco knew it, but the fear of being left behind felt bad and quiet and locked up.Something else touched him, a personal adventure that he had always been fascinated by and had had little opportunity to experience before.

Who knows?Maybe it was in his blood?The reason in his head was screaming threats, risks, and consequences, but the other side slowed his breath, kept him sharp and alert, and reassured him that tonight's mission was perfectly doable if only he could use his wits.

He waited until a cloud covered the first quarter moon, and rushed to the front of the stone wall. He leaned against the wall, and reached out his hand very slowly to the long doorknob.

The door is locked, yes, of course it should be.After thinking for a while, Draco ran to the other side, clinging to the mossy stone wall, his back was cold, even through the black shirt and cloak.

Not far from him, an owl hooted.There was something skimming and crunching in the woods, but nothing out of the ordinary, and more importantly it provided some background sound.

He moved away from the wall and looked up upstairs.Maybe one of the windows was open?Turns out he didn't have to, there was a big hole on the ground floor leading to a huge empty room. (Translator's Note: The big hole in the Death Eater cafeteria mentioned by Gower earlier...).Even if he stood outside, he could see the floor covered with withered yellow leaves.

Whoever was using the place clearly hadn't bothered to arrange for housekeepers and security, but he thought discovering it was the real challenge.

Draco cast a Levitation Charm, sending himself flying until he was floating outside the room.He stretched out his head and looked around the hole, checked the room and the connecting corridor, and found that there was really no one in this place.

Where did people go?Obviously there was a voice, he could hear it now.Someone opened and closed the door not far from the corridor. It was a man's voice, low and urgent, accompanied by hurried footsteps.

He quickly stepped into the room, startled by the sound of his hiking shoes creaking against dead leaves on the ground.Thankfully the wind picked up again and more leaves were blown into the room.

The sound of footsteps was approaching, no matter who it was, the heavy footsteps were suddenly familiar, and Draco took advantage of the darkness to curl up under a collapsed beam.

Then he stared at Hu Meizi's family.

They were delighted to see Draco, the largest, muscular black-haired creature who seemed to be the head of the family, and he rushed over and started nibbling on the toes of Draco's shoes.It doesn't like the smell of shoes, thank goodness he seems to give up.

The foxes climbed up a taller log while Draco listened almost painfully to what was going on in the hallway.

It's Gore!It must be.His friend recently broke his leg and always walks a little bit slowly.

The sound of footsteps indicated that it was indeed Goyle, and that he was smart.He passed an open door to the right, and Draco, glad his friend was alone, slipped out from under the beam and into a dark hallway.

There are stairs on both sides, and Goyle is walking towards one.

Greg, you idiot, turn around!

But he didn't, he kept walking, then turned near the corridor and went down the stairs.

Draco almost called Goyle to stop, but then he held back.Cursing under his breath, he ran to the nearest stairs with all his strength, trying to catch Goyle on the next floor.Draco slid down the three steps, the wooden steps creaking loudly in protest.

He stopped at the fourth level, but only because he stepped in, and it was too late for him to smell the rotting wood.

"Oh shit."

The entire staircase collapsed, leaving only a huge void on the two wooden stairs connecting the upper and lower floors.

It was a miracle Draco was able to roll his eyes in time before he fell.