The sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Basil's somewhat volatile expression.
He actually found it a bit strange.
Why didn't this report criticize Hogwarts?
The Philosopher's Stone hidden in the castle.
A professor being a Dark Wizard.
He could easily think of points to criticize.
Rita Skeeter shouldn't be unable to think of them.
Was it because Dumbledore caught an Animagus, and she, also an unregistered illegal Animagus, was afraid of being exposed?
And Fudge, with her help, had established a new persona.
Daring to admit mistakes.
Damn it!
The Japanese political style of bowing 90 degrees and saying "Sumimasen" after making a mistake, then everything being over, wouldn't be introduced into the wizarding political arena, right?
Basil didn't dwell on it.
Because the dormitory was currently a mess.
Harry was clamoring to see Sirius.
Ron kept his head down, ashamed of mocking Draco yesterday and treating Quirrell as a good person.
Neville and Seamus were cleaning the dormitory, recalling all the places Scabbers might have stayed.
As for Basil himself...
Hermione barged into the dormitory with the newspaper, unceremoniously sitting on his bed.
Dragging him to read it together.
After accidentally crossing the line last night, Hermione had become much bolder.
She dared to openly snuggle with Basil without blushing.
Damn it! How could I not hold back for a moment!
It could only be said that growing along with the Indestructible Golden Eyes wasn't just his height; the reproductive structures in his body were also basically mature now.
Withered seedlings need cool, sweet spring water; the bitter cold winter needs the scorching sun; hibernating insects need the call of the Awakening of Insects (Jingzhe).
And a mature body also needs the continuation of life.
The soul of an old pervert couldn't stop at just feasting his eyes.
Possessing a body at the most vigorous age again, being able to hit the brakes was already quite impressive.
However, this wasn't without its benefits.
Perhaps precisely because he had matured in some sense, on the wizard data panel, the marked true magic power scale no longer stopped at 7.
It quietly rose to 8.
But some people, even at the age where they should be fathers, were still immature.
Sirius Black, at this moment, was like a big dog, squatting on the ground.
Looking eagerly at his nephew.
"So listless? How about a smile?"
Lucius Malfoy's head had been taken home by Narcissa.
Draco didn't go back.
He said he wanted to cover up his weakness and act like a true Malfoy.
As the Slytherin Seeker, stick to his post and win the Quidditch Cup.
But to Sirius, who was still a big kid and hadn't really passed his adolescence...
His nephew's poker face was too boring.
At his strong request, he moved into an empty classroom on the eighth floor with Draco.
Except for sleeping and washing up last night, he had been dedicated to making Draco smile again.
Barking like a dog, making funny faces, telling jokes, tickling, gossiping (about the ugly affairs of the Slytherin Head of House, Snivellus Snape)... he did everything he could think of.
His nephew, Draco Malfoy, remained unmoved.
So, Sirius said in frustration, "How about playing Quidditch? You're a Seeker like Harry, right? Joined the house team in the first year, almost catching up to James."
Draco, who had kept a wooden face and vacant eyes, had a flash of light in his eyes for an instant.
"? Is it because of what? Quidditch or Harry?" Sirius, noticing this, had a thought flash through his mind.
His ill-fated relationship with Snape made him subconsciously lean towards the latter.
He tentatively asked, "Shall we go find Harry?"
"No, not Harry, not Harry Potter." Draco seemed to wake from a dream.
Sirius was pleasantly surprised. "Okay, let's go find Harry then. The Gryffindor common room is also on the eighth floor. I haven't been back for a long time."
On the other side, Basil, who was looking forward to Sirius being confronted by Snape and creating some amusement, exclaimed inwardly.
"Holy crap!"
He quickly pulled his hand out from under Hermione's butt.
Ignoring Hermione's blushing face, Basil stood up.
"How about we go for a walk by the lake?"
Hermione nodded and followed.
Basil didn't have moral cleanliness issues preventing him from meeting the son of Lucius Malfoy, whose death he indirectly caused.
Nor was it to avoid a potentially gay scene between Draco and Harry.
After all, Harry and Ron's daily interactions were gay enough.
It was just that Basil wasn't only multitasking two threads—talking to Hermione while watching the conversation between Draco and Sirius.
In fact, it was three threads.
Narcissa Malfoy must have felt this deeply.
In the secret chamber of Malfoy Manor.
Her firm breasts trembled with her rapid breathing.
Mrs. Malfoy, usually arrogant and haughty, was now full of helplessness in her eyes.
During her run, having lost her shoes, her exposed, jade-like toes rubbed against the rough ground, turning a charming peach pink.
Everything felt like yesterday.
Only then, Lucius was by her side.
The warmth brought by his broad palm.
It was a sunny day with the sun just rising and white peacocks crying on the hedges.
The Master possessed that person and sealed the manor.
He walked backwards into the mansion.
The portraits of the Malfoy ancestors issued warnings.
Her father-in-law, Abraxas, noticed something wrong from the start and walked into the frame before the entrance to catch up.
She was dragged by Lucius into the secret chamber.
But it was all in vain.
Scarlet eyes appeared before them.
All defensive magic was broken.
Bodies lost control.
Watching helplessly as Lucius's hair was shaved off and runes were carved.
She was forced to drink Polyjuice Potion.
Implanted with a curse, not only unable to speak, but also losing other abilities to express herself.
Until the afternoon of June 1st.
The curse disappeared.
Only later did she learn that Lucius died at that time.
And today.
The same scene happened.
The only difference was, he walked into the mansion facing forward.
After breaking through defensive spells one by one, the face that appeared wasn't chalk-white, nose-less, with scarlet eyes.
But that handsome face she had only seen in photos in her sister Bellatrix's bedroom.
"Master~" Her voice trembled, daring not to raise even a hint of hatred.
Let alone thinking about why the Master would change form and resurrect in a youthful appearance.
Why this time Dobby wasn't frozen in place but floated behind him like a toy balloon, tied with a string.
"You've got the wrong person. I am Tom Riddle," Basil said, controlling this body.
"You are the Master." Mrs. Malfoy's head hung almost to the ground, her pear-shaped hips even more alluring wrapped in black robes.
"Do you know why Lucius died?"
Before she could answer, Basil continued, "Because of the diary. It was Voldemort's Horcrux."
Mrs. Malfoy's breathing quickened, her toes curling subconsciously.
Raising her head, her slender swan neck and the beautiful scenery of the mysterious area were revealed at a glance.
"Please spare Draco's life!"
Basil squatted down, looking playfully. The cool fragrance of a mature woman flooded his nostrils.
Considering this body wasn't his own, he didn't go further to lift her chin.
Instead, he said calmly, "What can you offer?"
"Everything." Narcissa Malfoy said firmly.
(Author's Note: The knowledge of making Horcruxes isn't extremely rare. Voldemort just thought few knew about it. It's in "Secrets of the Darkest Art". Just that normal people wouldn't do it. Splitting the soul and all. So, the characteristics of Horcruxes aren't categorized and are hard to identify. Lucius Malfoy didn't recognize the diary as a Horcrux. After all, in this world, there really is an afterlife. The Death Chamber in the Ministry studies this. Some long-established families should also know. Like Regulus Black in the original books knew about Horcruxes. He sacrificed his life for it. So, I'm writing that Narcissa, also from the Black family, knows as well.)