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The first week of school passed quickly amidst a flurry of rumors. Now, Harry was once again experiencing the same treatment he'd received last year after unexpectedly revealing himself as a Parselmouth during Professor Lockhart's dueling club. Wherever he went, he could feel people secretly watching him, whispering ominous things.
Among those gazes, there was sympathy, but also schadenfreude, even within Gryffindor House.
Of course, Harry wasn't too surprised by this. Ever since Monday night, when Seamus told him that Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff had finally learned from Professor Sprout what Amosita Brayn, whom they had seen at the Welcoming Feast, was actually doing there, he had anticipated it.
Garlic, charms, and amulets, which had been popular for a while last term for warding off evil, once again swept across the campus. Thankfully, the only comforting thing was that Neville wasn't wearing his amethyst necklace this time.
The person Harry disliked most was Draco Malfoy.
After Potions class on Wednesday afternoon, Harry was about to storm out of the classroom with his essay, which had received a 'D,' but Goyle and Crabbe stood at the doorway, blocking his path. Given their size, almost no one could push past them.
Harry turned around and coldly looked at Draco, who was sitting on his desk with a malicious grin. "Tell your two idiotic cronies to move aside, Malfoy, unless you want to see them chopped into pieces and stuffed into jars!"
Hearing this, Malfoy's smile grew even more sinister, and the inexplicable pity in his eyes only fueled Harry's anger. "Speaking of being chopped into pieces, Potter,"
Malfoy jutted out his pointed chin, drawing out his words in his usual drawl,
"I suddenly feel a bit sorry for you, Potter. I thought your worst fate would be to live the rest of your life as a neighbor to Dementors in Azkaban, but now, I wouldn't be so sure. I think you might be chopped into pieces by someone and sent to Professor Sprout's Mandrakes as fertilizer, who knows!"
"He's been threatening people like that a lot lately, Harry."
Neville, standing beside Harry, flushed red and whispered, "He told me the same thing in the Great Hall at noon."
"And you actually let Malfoy walk out of the Great Hall alive, Neville, that's truly incredible." Ron's face turned green with anger. He pulled out his wand, taped together, and pointed it at Malfoy.
"Want to see who becomes fertilizer first, Malfoy!"
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, plus two days' detention, Weasley."
Just then, Snape, who had been tidying up on the dais, ignoring the conflict, walked over and lazily stared at Ron. "I hope this teaches you a lesson, Weasley. In my classroom, you are not allowed to point your wand at classmates."
The outcome of this conflict left Harry in a bad mood for several days. He was even off his game during Quidditch practice. Because of his past absence during last year's finals, Wood was especially worried.
"If you want to catch the culprit and prove your innocence, Harry, could you please wait until after the finals to begin your plan?"
"Wood shouldn't say that to you, Harry, it's not your fault!"
On Sunday evening, in the Hospital Wing, when a dejected Harry recounted Wood's words to Hermione, Hermione retorted angrily.
"You can't blame him either, Hermione. I heard Fred and George say that Wood wants to join the Puddlemere United team as a professional Quidditch player after graduation. In that case, leading Gryffindor to victory would mean a lot to him, and unfortunately, Wood is in his sixth year, so this year or next is his last chance."
Ron spoke fairly on Wood's behalf, which only made Harry feel more guilty.
"But he can't blame Harry for not being able to win the match, Ron. Why can't he look for reasons within himself?"
Hermione said, arms crossed over her chest, exasperated.
Ron shrugged, wisely closing his mouth.
The three of them knew that as long as the Heir of Slytherin remained unmasked, Harry's current situation was unlikely to improve, and that was precisely the most difficult part. Otherwise, the Board of Governors wouldn't have specifically hired someone to come to Hogwarts to handle this matter.
Most of the cat-like features on Hermione's face and body had faded, making her less self-conscious about her appearance. She threw back the covers and got out of bed, frowning as she paced the room, pondering how to help Harry alleviate people's misunderstandings.
Voices of a few Gryffindor students could be heard outside the door. The owners of the voices were all people Harry knew: Neville, Ginny, Parvati, Lavender.
They were negotiating with Madam Pomfrey, hoping to enter and visit Hermione, because the rumor that Hermione had been attacked and petrified had not yet been dispelled. But Madam Pomfrey righteously refused them.
Hermione looked at the door, her expression no longer so serious. No matter what, her friends' concern still touched her deeply.
"Perhaps, we could seek Mr. Brayn's help."
Hermione stared at the doorknob for a long time. For some reason, the face of Amosita Brayn, whom she had only met once, suddenly popped into her mind. Setting aside inter-House prejudices, to be honest, Hermione had a rather good impression of the gentle and elegant young wizard. At the very least, he was a polite and understanding person.
"Are you crazy, Hermione?"
Ron's cheeks puffed out in surprise. "Have you forgotten? Harry's current predicament was caused by this investigator!"
"That's not his fault, Ron," Hermione said imperiously. "Mr. Brayn is merely following the Board of Governors' orders to enter the school and investigate the Chamber of Secrets. That's his duty, but it doesn't mean he's necessarily targeting Harry, does it?"
Hermione was satisfied that her words had made them both thoughtful. She looked at the frowning Harry and pressed on,
"So, Harry, to your knowledge, has Mr. Brayn taken any concrete action?"
"That's the problem, Hermione!"
Ron answered the question for Harry. "Many people thought our investigator, Mr. Brayn, would launch an unprecedented major operation...
...Like mobilizing everyone to search the castle, or calling in Slytherin students one by one for interrogation... but so far, he hasn't done anything. He just stays in his office, as if he came back to Hogwarts for a holiday. From what I can tell, Hagrid must have gotten something wrong. Maybe someone else defeated Bill and Charlie!"
Harry also said with a troubled expression, "Fred and George told us that Mr. Brayn never goes out at night. Only during the day does he occasionally go to the kitchens to get something to eat and sort out his hygiene."
This answer indeed surprised Hermione. She stood at the foot of the bed, frowning, her lips pursed as if Professor McGonagall had caught Gryffindor students out of bed after hours.
"Fred and George are monitoring Mr. Brayn? I mean, they have classes during the day too, so how can they know his whereabouts so clearly?"
"I asked, but they wouldn't say!"
Ron said, huffing, "Fred told me it's their secret to success. Hmph, besides being good at avoiding Filch, I don't see anything successful about them!"
Ron's evaluation was not very objective. At least Harry felt that Fred and George were quite good at making everyone happy, especially with the comical products they occasionally brought out, which were very popular among the young wizards.
Discussing how Fred and George were monitoring Mr. Brayn had already deviated from the original topic, and it was also destined to remain unanswered.
At eight o'clock, Madam Pomfrey arrived in a hurry and chased them away. On the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron grumbled non-stop about Hermione's unwillingness to share her Potions homework, but Harry was used to it. Generally, Hermione wouldn't let them copy a single word until they had completed their assignments themselves.
"...If you can prove your innocence to Mr. Brayn, Harry, given the current situation, if he can, as an investigator, help explain it to everyone, it might be even more effective than Headmaster Dumbledore's words!"
Standing before the Fat Lady's portrait, recalling Hermione's advice, Harry hesitated a little.
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