The flower splits into two, each telling its own tale.
While Dumbledore was wrestling with Harry's memories, the Scarred-Face Chieftain himself was broad-minded and big-hearted, heading straight to the Great Hall to eat.
Ron and Hermione saw him and jumped up, waving. When he sat, Hermione quickly piled his plate with chicken, duck, and fish, and poured him a cup of pumpkin juice, her movements quick and efficient.
"How did it go, Harry?" Ron asked anxiously. "What did Professor Dumbledore say?"
Harry took a sip of the sweet juice and snorted. "He's definitely involved."
He omitted the part about Dumbledore's personal pain but relayed the rest. The two were half-happy, half-worried.
"Did you notice?" Hermione whispered. "Professor Dumbledore said the Ministry went to Malfoy Manor to search for dark items. Now think about that Howler Draco received."
"I'm willing to bet he used some dark artifact to open the Chamber."
"Right," Ron hissed. "Lucius was a Death Eater. His house must be full of dark magic. He's really cruel, making his own son take such a risk."
The three looked over at the Slytherin table. Draco was boasting, reading from a letter.
"Did you hear? Listen to what my father says! He is extremely satisfied with my learning achievements this term!"
"He's already promised me! He's buying the entire team the new Nimbus 2001s!"
The moment he finished, the team members were all over him, clapping his back and showering him with compliments.
"But there has to be a reason, right?" Hermione asked. "What's his goal in opening the Chamber?"
Harry chewed his chicken. "As the saying goes, 'a dog cannot change its nature.' That scoundrel was a Death Eater, and now he's pretending to be a good son. To go to this much trouble... I fear it is related to... Voldemort."
Ron gripped his wand. "Even if it is... You-Know-Who... I'm not afraid of him."
As the three were whispering, they heard an excited shriek from behind.
"Harry! You're finally here! I thought you weren't coming to lunch!"
He didn't need to look. Who else could it be but Colin?
Ron and Hermione groaned and looked away. But Harry laughed. "Brother Colin, why have you come? Is it to take more 'living photos' of this one?"
Colin nodded vigorously. Harry took several Galleons from his robes to hand to him.
Colin saw the money and waved his hands in a panic. "Oh, Harry, I can't take your money!"
"Brother Colin, your words are wrong! This one sees you laboring day and night, only concerned with spreading my good name. How can I let you work for nothing?"
Colin was grateful but still refused. Harry simply forced the gold into his hand. "If you do not accept, others will say this one is a bully who preys on the weak. How can I be called a Hao Han (a good hero)?"
Hearing this, Colin finally, feeling overwhelmed, nodded.
"Right, Harry, there's one more thing."
Seeing him hesitate, Harry laughed. "Brother Colin, just say it! We are brothers! No need for ceremony!"
"It's like this... I have a few friends, and they all really admire you. Especially last night when you cursed out the Heir of Slytherin. They were all there!"
"Can you... meet them?"
This Colin had worshiped Harry for a long time, secretly taking 'living photos' and giving them to classmates. He told the old stories—slaying the troll, the common room gathering, driving out Quirrell—with such vivid detail, it was as if he had seen it himself.
When the other first-years heard these tales, who among them was not captivated? Who was not filled with respect?
Harry, hearing this, was pleased. "That is no obstacle! Brother Colin, call them over! Let this one meet them!"
Colin, seeing him agree, stood up and shouted, "You can all come over!"
At his call, a group of young wizards ran over. Looking closely, besides Gryffindors, there were several students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.
Harry took another bag of Galleons from his robes. "You few, come here. Take this and divide it."
The young wizards' eyes widened at the gold, but they hesitated.
Colin saw this, took the bag, and began distributing the coins. "It's okay! This is from Harry! Just take it. Plenty of people in the school have received gifts from Harry."
Hearing this, the young wizards dropped their reservations, took the money, and thanked Harry.
"Thank you, Harry!"
"I told you he wasn't an ordinary wizard!"
"Hello, Harry. My brother told me he received a gift from you too..."
Seeing the money warmed their eyes; taking the money warmed their hearts. Now, burning inside and out, they cast their shyness to the nine heavens.
The "female Harry" of Ravenclaw, Luna, spoke up. "Harry, can I ask... how did you know you could ignore the Sorting Hat?"
Harry laughed. "This one has traveled ten thousand li and seen the world's affairs. I have never heard of putting on a hat to enter a school. Why would I pay any attention to that bird-thing!"
The young wizards, hearing his heroic words, couldn't hold back, crowding around and chattering.
The "fan club" only dispersed when lunch was over. Colin called out, "Okay, everyone scatter! Don't keep Harry from class!"
He turned to Harry. "Can we... come back tomorrow?"
Harry laughed. "You are welcome to come!"
From then on, every day at noon, Colin would bring a crowd to talk with Harry.
It wasn't just Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Even a few Slytherin first-years, fascinated, came over shyly.
Though Harry despised Draco, he treated all the first-years equally. In just a few days, his "entourage" had grown to several dozen.
The Lion and Snake houses were, of course, mortal enemies. When the Slytherins saw their own first-years being "poached" by Harry, how could they stand it?
They whispered and passed secret signals, waiting to disrupt his "scam." But though they pushed and shoved, no one dared to be the first to step out.
Why? The lower-years were terrified of his reputation; the upper-years felt it was beneath their "status" to confront him.
"He's from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Potter is just a half-blood."
"So are you! You're both second-years. You should go."
"I'm a pure-blood... What does a pure-blood... have to say to a half-blood..."
As the students dithered, a cold voice spoke. "I'll go."
Everyone looked. The Bloody Baron had appeared.
He was the Slytherin house ghost and an elder of the Ghost Council. Besides the professors, he was the only one who could control Peeves. Even the Head of House had to show him respect.
Seeing such an impressive ghost step forward, the Slytherin students cheered.
"Atta boy!"
"Don't lose face, Mr. Baron!"
"Show him!"
The Bloody Baron ignored the students and floated straight toward Harry.
The first-years around Harry saw him and grew fearful, falling silent.
The Bloody Baron said, "Mr. Potter. We need to talk."
Harry glanced at him sideways, his heart filled with contempt, his face with disgust. He was eager to vent Helena's anger. He just snorted and roared:
"You, this scoundrel-bird, are you worthy of talking to this one? What kind of thing are you!"
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