"The Whomping Willow planted here—it feels like it is protecting this secret passage," Dudley murmured, gazing down at the entrance beneath the gnarled roots.
Something about the placement felt deliberate, though he could not quite articulate why. Shaking off the strange impression, he turned and made his way back toward the castle.
After a long and eventful night, Dudley could finally anticipate a proper rest.
Over the following days, Hogwarts remained mercifully peaceful. No new attacks occurred, though the atmosphere remained tense and wary. Unfortunately, people's attitudes toward Dudley and Harry had not improved in the slightest.
Many still believed Harry had used Parseltongue to release the basilisk, making him responsible for every attack at Hogwarts. The whispers followed them through corridors, and students still gave them wide berth in the halls.
However, these matters had little real impact on Dudley and his friends. Those who refused to believe them would not change their minds regardless of explanations or evidence. Harry had long abandoned any attempt to prove himself to the masses—that path led only to frustration and wasted energy.
A week later, during Herbology class, Gryffindor and Slytherin students worked together in the greenhouses. Today's lesson involved cultivating Mandrakes—those screaming, temperamental plants that held the key to reversing petrification. These particular specimens were nearly mature, which meant the petrified victims could soon be restored. The prospect lifted everyone's spirits considerably.
"Look at Malfoy's complexion. It seems to be getting even paler," Harry muttered, nudging Dudley's shoulder and nodding toward the Slytherin section.
Dudley followed his gaze and narrowed his eyes slightly. Malfoy's appearance was visibly haggard, almost disturbingly so. The previously healthy colour in his face had vanished entirely, replaced by a pallor like old parchment.
"I feel like his complexion has been terrible ever since Crabbe's incident," Ron observed quietly.
As Malfoy's self-appointed monitors and arch-rivals, they had been tracking his condition with some concern—though they would never admit it aloud.
"I remember his complexion was fine not long ago," Hermione added thoughtfully.
Dudley nodded in agreement. He had blessed Malfoy with a paper angel specifically to protect him from dark corruption. By all rights, Malfoy should not be exhibiting these symptoms.
After a moment's consideration, Dudley quietly activated his spirit vision. The familiar shift in perception allowed him to see beyond the physical.
"What is happening..." he breathed softly.
When his enhanced sight fell upon Malfoy, he saw faint black mist still swirling around the boy like parasitic shadows. The colours representing his life force appeared dim and sickly, barely flickering.
"The paper angel did not work?" Dudley felt genuine surprise and concern.
This was his first time using such a blessing outside controlled circumstances. He might have been somewhat inexperienced, but the technique should not have failed so completely.
After completing the blessing previously, Dudley had specifically verified that the paper angel's purifying power had cleansed the dark aura from Malfoy while granting him immunity to evil and corruption. Yet looking now, that protection seemed utterly ineffective.
Of course, another possibility existed—that even the paper angel could not withstand whatever dark force was afflicting Malfoy, and had been slowly eroded away over time.
Seeming to sense Dudley's scrutiny, Malfoy glanced up and glared fiercely at him. His eyes were bloodshot and hollow, as if he had not slept properly in weeks.
"Draco, you look dreadful. Why do you not take leave and go rest?" Pansy Parkinson noticed his deteriorating condition and spoke with genuine worry.
"I am fine," Malfoy said stubbornly, though his voice lacked conviction.
"But your eyes are completely bloodshot, and your face is deathly pale," Pansy pressed, refusing to drop the subject.
Malfoy frowned, hesitated as if wrestling with pride, then finally nodded in reluctant agreement.
"I will come with you," Pansy said quickly, gathering her things.
Malfoy walked toward Professor Sprout to explain his situation. The Herbology professor obviously noticed his alarming condition and approved his leave request without hesitation, reminding him firmly to visit the hospital wing immediately.
"Evil people get their comeuppance," Ron muttered with satisfaction as Malfoy departed on sick leave.
Hermione and Harry shook their heads helplessly at Ron's vindictive tone.
The Herbology lesson continued around them. Dudley attended mechanically while his mind churned over Malfoy's situation. Something felt deeply wrong about this. Malfoy must have truly encountered some dangerously corrupted dark magical object—nothing else could explain his rapid deterioration despite the paper angel's protection.
Just as Dudley was contemplating his next move, layers upon layers of prayer sounds suddenly manifested in his mind like distant bells.
"You are the supreme Emperor..."
This time, Dudley immediately recognised Malfoy's voice carrying through the mystical connection.
"Professor Sprout, I have something urgent to attend to. I am leaving," Dudley announced abruptly, already moving toward the greenhouse exit.
Without time for further explanation, he rushed out, leaving his classmates staring after him in confusion.
"Really becoming more improper by the day. Forget it—he has already mastered almost everything in my Herbology class anyway," Professor Sprout sighed with resigned acceptance.
After all, Dudley's grades remained exemplary. She could not fault his academic performance, even if his attendance was becoming increasingly erratic.
After leaving the greenhouse, Dudley did not return directly to the castle. Instead, he ran toward Hagrid's hut, the isolated location perfect for what he needed to do.
Once safely inside the empty dwelling, he immediately began responding to Malfoy's prayer.
Hum!
Dudley's spirit body manifested in the magnificent palace above the grey fog. Following the sound of desperate prayer, he cast his gaze downward and quickly located Malfoy hiding in an abandoned classroom on Hogwarts' third floor.
"Night Emperor!" Sensing that majestic presence descending from impossible heights, Malfoy quickly lowered his head in reverent respect.
"What happened? Why is your body tainted with an evil aura again?" Dudley got straight to the point, his voice low and edged with concern despite the authoritative tone.
"I... I am not entirely sure either," Malfoy admitted, panic clear in his voice.
"Have you come into contact with anything unusual recently?" Dudley asked after a moment's consideration.
"Something... nothing particularly special, except..." Malfoy's face grew even paler, if such a thing were possible. "Except there is a diary!"
"A diary?" Dudley's interest sharpened immediately.
"Yes, you asked me previously to investigate matters related to Slytherin. I have kept it foremost in my mind," Malfoy explained quickly.
"This prayer is also to present this diary to you. It contains information about the Chamber of Secrets."
"I accidentally discovered the diary on the second floor near where Crabbe was petrified."
Dudley's expression shifted behind his mystical veil. What diary would contain genuine information about the Chamber? Could it possibly be Salazar Slytherin's personal journal from a thousand years ago?
"Whose diary is it?" Dudley enquired with forced calm.
"A diary belonging to a Hogwarts student from fifty years ago. His name was Tom Riddle," Malfoy answered immediately.
"Tom Riddle?" The name sparked something in Dudley's memory—vaguely familiar, though he could not quite place where he had heard it before.
However, he already knew the basic facts about events from fifty years ago. Hagrid had been wrongly accused, and Aragog had been exiled to the Forbidden Forest after being blamed for a student's death.
If the diary simply recorded those well-known events, it might not warrant much attention. Yet thinking of the persistent black aura corrupting Malfoy despite divine protection, Dudley felt it absolutely necessary to examine this diary personally and thoroughly.
"You can sacrifice the diary to me!" After weighing his options, Dudley commanded the figure far below.