Veratia turned her head away, feigning interest in the white bedsheet beside her, forcibly suppressing a laugh.
Harry, teased, began to make excuses: "That's where you're wrong—it wasn't my Basilisk. It was bred by Slytherin, only obeying the Heir of Slytherin… and Ominis is the Slytherin descendant. So, by rights, he's the Basilisk's master. If you want to settle scores, you should go after him."
Without waiting for Sebastian to respond, Harry deftly changed the subject: "Anyway, I spoke with Professor Dumbledore. He said Morfin Gaunt doesn't know where Voldemort hid Ominis's portrait, but after some analysis, we think it's likely his Horcrux is with the portrait. For example, a Gringotts vault could very well be one of the hiding places for his Horcruxes."
"Sounds like he's quite the prodigy," Sebastian said with a loud whistle. "To successfully split his soul and create a Horcrux—that kind of pain tolerance alone makes him remarkable. And from what you're saying, he made more than one?"
"Yes, his diary is one of them," Harry nodded. "Professor Dumbledore and I suspect that ring—Marvolo Gaunt's ring—is likely another Horcrux he created."
"That's going to be tricky for you," Sebastian said, his ghostly form rippling like water. "I'm just a ghost now, only able to watch you fight Voldemort—what a pity, what a pity."
Harry eyed the rippling Sebastian suspiciously. The ghost looked almost… excited.
"You don't seem to think it's a pity," Harry said. "You seem thrilled."
"Of course I am," Sebastian grinned. "You're my protégé—well, in dark magic, at least. I'm dying to see what kind of electrifying showdown you'll have with the most powerful dark wizard of the century, Harry."
Well, there it was—a troublemaker who loved watching the chaos unfold.
"I knew it," Veratia suddenly turned back, glaring at Sebastian. "All his dark magic came from you, didn't it? The three Unforgivable Curses, right? Couldn't you have taught him something good?"
"Er, actually, I also taught him Bombarda and other nasty curses," Sebastian raised a hand, unfazed. "Oh, and Fiendfyre, Conjunctivitis Curse, and so on…"
Harry quickly grabbed Veratia's wrist to stop her from raising her hand and blasting Sebastian with ancient magic.
"With a friend like you, he's truly blessed," Veratia said with a cold smirk. "If he didn't know ancient magic, he'd probably have been driven mad by the Cruciatus Curse by now!"
"But I know that those who study ancient magic channel their emotions into that emotional nexus," Sebastian chuckled. "Besides, how can you fight dark wizards without knowing a few dark spells? Didn't Professor Hao Ying always say? Know yourself and know your enemy, and you'll never lose, not even in a hundred battles."
"And honestly, when did you become so sanctimonious, Grindelwald?" Sebastian added. "You're the one who developed the method to use Avada Kedavra to kill every target in range simultaneously—"
Before Veratia could retort, a teasing voice interrupted from behind.
"I must say, I never expected you to have such colorful experiences."
The three turned to find Dumbledore standing behind them, having appeared unnoticed.
"However, I must add that I don't approve of learning dark magic—at least not before fourth year," Dumbledore said. "Dark magic affects the mind, and young witches and wizards may struggle to control it, potentially leading them astray."
"You're right, Professor," Veratia nodded in agreement.
Sebastian stood, facing Dumbledore.
"You must be the current Headmaster of Hogwarts?" he said. "The name Dumbledore… I've heard it somewhere before…"
"Oh, you may not remember me, Mr. Sallow," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "But you might recall my sister, Ariana—the little girl with the Obscurus."
Sebastian's face lit up with realization.
"Ah, yes, I remember now," he said. "Ariana Dumbledore, right? I recall meeting your sister—and your rather hot-tempered brother, Aberforth Dumbledore—when I was researching ways to control Anne's condition. How is she? Ariana?"
Dumbledore sighed and recounted the story to Sebastian.
After listening, Sebastian gave Veratia a look that was hard to describe.
Veratia glanced away, slightly embarrassed, feeling awkward about her troublesome brother.
"I heard from Harry," Dumbledore said, breaking the tense silence, "that your sister, Anne Sallow, is currently sealed by Ominis Gaunt in a cave in the Forbidden Forest. Unfortunately, even a century later, we're still powerless against dark magic curses."
"So we can only wait for the right moment, until we find a way to break the curse and save her," Sebastian said, glancing down at his ghostly form. "I just hope she won't be too upset seeing me like this."
"At least you can still be by her side, Seb," Harry said consolingly. "That's much better than disappearing from her life entirely."
"True, though not being able to eat is a bit of a hassle," Sebastian said with a chuckle. "But I'm not like that Hufflepuff, Sweeting. Even as a ghost, not eating doesn't bother me."
"Speaking of Poppy," Harry said, "she's not doing great either. She's turned into a magical Muggle, unable to revert to her human form."
Sebastian shot Harry a sidelong glance.
"Some people sure have a lot to answer for, Harry," he said with a cold smirk. "Look at all the…"
"Alright, Sallow," Veratia cut him off. "Instead of this—what are you planning to do over the holidays? Harry's going back to the Muggle world, so he might not be able to take you along."
"I'll stay at Hogwarts," Sebastian said nonchalantly. "I quite like it here. Maybe I'll become Hogwarts' newest ghost…"
"You're not the newest," Harry added. "That's Myrtle Warren—Moaning Myrtle. She was killed by the Basilisk's stare in 1942."
Sebastian shrugged. "Well, I'm still new, since I just got here. And this time, if I sneak into the Restricted Section, the librarian won't be able to stop me, right?"
"Peeves might," Harry said with a grin. "Oh, by the way—since you're a ghost now, you could probably give Peeves a good thrashing. Remember when you dragged me to the Restricted Section to find a cure for Anne, and Peeves ratted us out? You got into quite a bit of trouble for that."
Sebastian thought for a moment, then nodded seriously. "You're right—I'd almost forgotten. That's when I taught you the Disillusionment Charm, wasn't it? But… Peeves. I really need to teach that pest a lesson with my fists."
Even as a ghost, his temper hadn't cooled.
Ask any Hogwarts student—graduated or not—who they'd most like to punch, and they'd say Filch or Peeves. Those two were just that insufferable, especially Filch…
Dumbledore seemed engrossed in studying his beard, utterly unconcerned about whether a ghost might get a thrashing.
"Your task is a heavy one, Harry," Sebastian said, turning to him. "This holiday, you've got to track down Ominis and Malfoy. Remember what I told you? After Grindelwald and Sweeting vanished, Malfoy disappeared too. I bet she's coming for you. You know how she is."
"Know what?" Harry asked, curious.
Veratia cut Sebastian off.
"She cares about you, Harry," she said. "Don't let her sharp tongue fool you—Cassandra's the one who worries about you the most."
Sebastian's expression turned subtle.
Women…
Veratia would rather boost Cassandra Malfoy's favor than let Harry know her true intentions.
Oh well, Sebastian thought. It's all just entertainment—whose drama was he watching, anyway?
Deep down, he always thought Cassandra Malfoy was the one Harry liked best. But neither Harry nor Malfoy had realized it yet.
Especially Harry, who even thought he disliked Malfoy. Honestly…
The more Sebastian thought about it, the more excited he got. He couldn't wait to see the look on Grindelwald's face—thinking she had the upper hand, only to be outdone by Malfoy.
That said, if Sebastian had to pick who was better for Harry, he'd choose Miss Grindelwald.
She was inclusive, gentle—perfect for a kid like Harry, who lacked security. Only a warm, older-sister type could give him that sense of safety.
As for Miss Malfoy, that tsundere…
Merlin's beard, if she didn't change, they'd spend their days second-guessing each other.
"She's right, Harry," Sebastian added, seizing the moment.
After chatting in the Hospital Wing, Sebastian returned to the Slytherin common room.
He was Slytherin through and through—always would be.
The Slytherin students were used to ghosts and barely batted an eye at Sebastian's arrival.
But Sebastian immediately spotted the slick-haired Draco in the crowd.
Lucius had planned to send someone to fetch Draco, but Draco insisted on taking the train back to London tomorrow, so Lucius let him do as he pleased.
"Hey, Malfoy kid," Sebastian called, waving at Draco.
Draco approached, eyeing Sebastian's youthful ghostly form uncertainly. "You're… looking for me? Do you know me?"
"Of course I do. Platinum hair, gray eyes… you're just like your great-great-aunt," Sebastian said with a grin. "Allow me to introduce myself—Sebastian Sallow."
Draco's mouth fell open before his face lit up with realization.
"Oh, I know! You're that Slytherin legend from back then!" he said eagerly. "It's an honor to meet you, sir—I know all about your exploits…"
"I'm surprised anyone still knows my story after a century," Sebastian chuckled. "What do you know?"
Draco launched into an enthusiastic recounting of everything he knew about Sebastian's deeds.
"You probably don't know," Sebastian said casually, "that I spent the rest of my life in Azkaban, do you?"
Draco blinked. "What?"
"No big deal," Sebastian drawled. "Meeting a descendant of an old acquaintance is always a pleasure." He leaned in. "I also saw Drake Flint's descendant—that bucktoothed troll, right?"
Draco glanced back at Marcus, who was spitting enthusiastically in conversation, and nodded. "Yeah, that's Marcus Flint, captain of our Quidditch team."
"Your great-great-aunt really didn't like his ancestor," Sebastian said with a grin. "She even got the Board of Governors to warn their family—if they bullied Harry Potter again, they'd be kicked out of Britain." He leaned closer to Draco. "You didn't know, did you? Your great-great-aunt really liked Harry Potter."
"Of course I knew, Mr. Sallow!" Draco said, practically vibrating with excitement. "Merlin's beard, I can't believe you know too… Why haven't you told Harry? You know, given him a hint?"
"You think Harry Potter would mourn for me?" Sebastian gave Draco a wry look. "You know Miss Grindelwald's the jealous type. If she found out I meddled in their little love triangle, I'd have been a ghost years earlier, no lie."
"No way," Draco frowned. "Miss Grindelwald seems so kind… Besides, if she's like that, my great-great-aunt would've been toast by now."
"That's because she's the newcomer," Sebastian said, exasperated. "She feels guilty about your great-great-aunt. Think about it."
"Oh!" Draco's eyes widened as if struck by a revelation.
"So here's the deal," Sebastian said, glancing around to ensure Veratia wasn't nearby. "As her great-nephew, you've got a responsibility. You need to be her mouthpiece—not just passing messages, but translating them properly."
"Translating?" Draco asked, confused.
"Based on my guess, Cassandra Malfoy will be back by Christmas at the latest," Sebastian said. "Her personality… it's tricky. For example, if she says she hates Harry, she actually means she likes him but can't admit it because of her weird pride. So she says 'hate' instead, but it's really about her own frustration, not Harry. Got it?"
"Hold on!" Draco pulled out a notebook. "Keep going, Mr. Sallow… So, when my great-great-aunt says something like 'hate,' I should translate it the opposite way, right?"
Sebastian gave Draco an approving look, as if he were a promising student.
"But what if she says she likes Harry?" Draco asked innocently. "I just pass it on as is, right?"
"Are you daft?" Sebastian said, exasperated. "Yes, that one you translate as is. But with her personality, expecting her to say 'like' is like expecting me to swear off dark magic forever."
Draco made an OK gesture, signaling he understood.
Then, cautiously, he asked, "You're an expert in charms, right? I mean… all kinds of charms?"
Sebastian grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Did you know? Almost every nasty curse Harry Potter knows, I taught him in secret…"
At that, Draco's expression shifted dramatically.
It was written all over his face: If you don't mind, I'd love to call you my godfather!
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