Chapter 117: Shoe Prints and Belladonna Powder

Even Hermione had to admit that Silven's method was instantly effective; within just two days, most of the rumors calling for Silven Ollivander's expulsion had vanished.

Smart people didn't want to be used as an excuse for wand price hikes… and as for those who weren't smart, someone would gladly expose Silven's scheme for them.

Although not entirely gone yet, the situation had improved greatly, and with Christmas approaching, fewer and fewer people continued discussing the matter.

Only a few Slytherins refused to give up; every time they passed Silven, they deliberately raised their voices to mutter sarcastic remarks.

These people were mostly led by Malfoy, whose personality had grown worse since returning from St. Mungo's. He wanted revenge on Lockhart for the night of bone-removal potion torture, but Lockhart was now lying in the school infirmary, utterly lifeless, even worse off than he was.

So Malfoy redirected his rage toward Silven… after all, it was Silven who had called Madame Pomfrey over—otherwise, it would have been that damned Potter whose bones were pulled out.

Besides, he wasn't afraid of Silven threatening him with a wand; if he couldn't buy an Ollivander wand, no matter—he'd just buy a Gregorovitch one instead. After all, the Malfoys had more than enough money.

Then, on the day before the Christmas holiday, as he walked back to the common room with Crabbe and Goyle, someone suddenly slipped a sack over his head from behind.

"Hit him hard! Any consequences are on me, Marcus Flint!" Malfoy heard someone say, then fists and shoe soles rained down on his head and face.

One kick landed squarely on his face.

The familiar texture, the precise force, the perfect fit—immediately triggered a memory in his mind.

"Potter!" Malfoy screamed through the barrage of blows: "You're Potter! Damn it, I'll kill you!"

The fists stopped. Malfoy heard rapid footsteps retreating quickly into the distance.

But when he tore the sack off in furious rage, not a single figure remained in sight.

At that moment, Crabbe and Goyle finally pulled the sacks from their heads.

"Damn Marcus, he dared to attack us," Goyle growled, his eyes blackened and his body covered in filthy shoe prints.

"Idiot, that wasn't Marcus!" Malfoy snapped. "Use your brain—why would Marcus ambush us? Those people were clearly Gryffindors!"

Malfoy stood there, furious, then suddenly turned. "Let's go."

"To get revenge?" Crabbe and Goyle clenched their fists simultaneously.

"Of course we'll get revenge," Malfoy said. "We're going to Professor Snape. This time, Gryffindor broke the rules first—they're finished."

The three stormed toward the dungeons.

Nearby, Harry, who had been watching them, couldn't help but worry.

"Silven, Malfoy recognized me—if he tells Snape about this, I'm dead… " The thought of Snape's unique detention punishments made Harry's face turn instantly pale.

Malfoy's vision was blocked by the sack, and I didn't say a word—how did he recognize me?

"Relax, it was Marcus Flint who beat them—what does that have to do with Gryffindor?" Silven patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, Silven's right—what does this have to do with Gryffindor?"

"He's just lying through his teeth."

Fred and George chimed in from beside him.

They'd been the most excited of all, never stopping their punches and kicks.

"But he called out my name," Harry still worried.

"So what if he called your name? If he'd shouted 'Dumbledore,' would the Headmaster have to apologize to him?" Silven said. "Besides, you've been with me in the library all along—when would you have had time to come down to the dungeons?"

"Hurry up and take out the Invisibility Cloak—we need to go back."

"Oh, right!" Harry quickly pulled out a silvery-gray cloak that looked like it was made of water, amid the envious glances of the Weasley twins.

"Invisibility Cloak," Fred muttered. "If only someone had given us one like this for Christmas this year."

"Go back to bed early—dreams have everything," Silven said bluntly.

"That's so hurtful," George dramatically rubbed his eyes.

"Alright then, hope you both get an Invisibility Cloak for Christmas," Silven said. "But was it true what you said earlier? That the rumor about the 'Dispenser of Power' being a wandmaker really came from Slytherin?"

"About half," Fred nodded.

"The other half is Gryffindor," George said. "But we definitely wouldn't target you like this, right?"

Silven said nothing.

At that moment, a noise seemed to come from ahead. Fred and George immediately sprinted into a nearby dark corridor. Silven and Harry pulled on the Invisibility Cloak and headed upstairs toward the library.

Tomorrow was the start of the Christmas holiday; only a handful of people remained in the library reading or writing assignments.

When Silven and Harry entered, no one noticed them. They walked straight to a secluded table and slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak.

"I can't believe you actually went after Malfoy!" Hermione whispered from the farthest seat.

"You've said that too many times already, Hermione," Ron said from the other side. "Did you succeed? How's Malfoy now?"

"He got beaten badly," Harry said excitedly.

"That's a violation of school rules," Hermione said. "If Professor Snape finds out…"

"As long as you don't tell him, he won't know," Silven sat down inside. "Madame Pince can testify we came in and never left—Malfoy has no proof."

Harry sat between Silven and Ron, his chest heaving, his heart pounding wildly.

He still couldn't believe he'd somehow joined Silven and the Weasley twins this afternoon.

He'd even helped plan it and contributed his own Invisibility Cloak—probably because Silven wanted to beat up Malfoy.

It was precisely because of the Invisibility Cloak that this plan had even been possible.

Harry calmed his heartbeat; the thought of kicking Malfoy hard just now filled him with an inexplicable sense of relief.

The exhaustion from training, the pressure from the match, the torment from Lockhart and Colin—all of it vanished with Malfoy's screams.

"Next time, remember to call me," he said instinctively to Silven.

"Harry!" Hermione turned in disbelief, her voice too loud—drawing Madame Pince's attention.

She quickly lowered her voice. "You can't… Harry, you couldn't possibly have left no trace."

Ron beside her looked utterly disappointed.

For Harry to say that, it must have been an incredible experience.

But there was no help for it—the Invisibility Cloak could only cover two people; adding a third would risk exposing them, so he had to stay behind with Hermione to provide cover.

"Alright, Harry was only joking—don't take it so seriously."

Silven said, standing up first and continuing, "Besides, an opportunity like this doesn't come every day. Tomorrow is the Christmas holiday, most of the students will leave the school, and there are no classes during the break—he can't exactly come to the dormitory to find us. By the time term starts again, this whole thing will have fizzled out on its own."

"Hopefully," Hermione said. Apart from believing, she had no other choice.

The group returned the books to Madam Pince together and walked outside.

"Oh right, what time are you coming to the library to read during the holiday? We could go together," Hermione said. "I'm staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year too."

"I probably won't be coming to the library during the holiday," Silven shrugged.

"What?" Hermione thought she'd misheard.

"To be honest, I feel like I've been pushing myself a bit too hard," Silven casually flipped through the copy of *A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration* filled with notes.

"There's a lot of content in here I can't understand; no matter how much more I read, it won't do the slightest bit of good, so I've decided to take a break for a while first."

"That's more like it," Ron said with a smile. "If you ask me, the holiday should be spent playing Wizard's Chess and Exploding Snap—I happen to have a brand-new set."

"No, you've got the wrong idea. For me, making wands is rest… Oh, good evening, Professor Snape."

They had just walked out of the library when they ran into Snape coming toward them, along with three people trailing behind him, their faces bruised and swollen.

"You did this, didn't you," Snape said, his expression dark as he looked at Harry and Silven.

"Gryffindor loses…"

"Hold on a moment, Professor," Silven cut him off, stepping forward to block the remaining three people while meeting Snape's eyes.

"I don't know what you mean, but we've been in the library reading since dinner ended. There must be some kind of misunderstanding."

"Impossible!" Malfoy burst out furiously. "The one who kicked me in the face was Potter, I know it."

"Sorry, you're…?" Silven narrowed his eyes, sizing him up carefully for a good while, before suddenly realizing, "Oh, Draco Malfoy, my apologies, I didn't recognize you just now. You look a lot fatter than before—your face has gone all round."

Malfoy's face wasn't only rounder—it had gone red.

It was clearly swollen—someone had smeared belladonna powder in their pockets!

"You—"

"Draco," Snape cut off what he was about to say next, and looked coldly at Silven. "You say you've been in the library the whole time?"

"Yes."

"Didn't go out at all?"

"No!"

"I'll look into it," Snape said.

"Of course, that's only proper," Silven said considerately. "Madam Pince has been sitting at the door the whole time, and there were several older students as well. If we'd gone out and come back in, we couldn't possibly have escaped the eyes of all of them."

"I don't need you telling me how to do my job," Snape said with a cold snort.

"Of course, Professor," Silven said. "May we go back now? We still have a lot of homework to write."

……

(End of chapter)