Chapter 311: The Most Toxic Magic

“...I seem to remember telling the two of you that if you broke the rules again, I’d have no choice but to expel you.”

Dumbledore said to Harry and Ron again.

Ron opened his mouth in horror.

“This shows that even the best among us sometimes fail to keep their word.”

Dumbledore continued with a smile,

“You both have been awarded Special Contributions to the School, and—let me see—yes, each of you has earned one hundred points for Gryffindor.”

“Of course, Miss Granger, you’ve earned fifty points for Gryffindor.”

Ron’s face instantly turned a bright pink, and his mouth snapped shut.

“Now, you should get back to bed, and perhaps drink a large mug of steaming hot chocolate—I’ve always found it excellent for lifting one’s spirits.”

Headmaster Dumbledore finally looked down and winked kindly at them.

The diary was dealt with.

But its effects went far beyond that.

Harry and Ron were called away by Dumbledore and told him everything about how they used Wizard Sean’s snake fang to destroy the diary; Harry unconsciously skipped the dream part, feeling the Headmaster surely already knew about the Hogwarts Castle Spirit.

But what the Headmaster said next made his eyes widen.

In Hagrid’s hut.

Hermione looked at Harry as he returned and asked:

“So who is Tom Riddle? Did you ask Headmaster Dumbledore?”

Harry sat by the fire, lost in thought:

“It’s Voldemort.”

This startled the three of them greatly.

But not Wizard Sean, because he had already arrived at Hagrid’s hut.

With the diary resolved, Hogwarts would enter a time of true peace.

Wizard Sean needed to quickly develop Snake-Beetle Cookies—his alchemical progress should be advanced.

Besides that, a special creature was waiting for him to deal with... a particular, barely surviving... rat.

For now, perhaps he could help Hagrid clear his name.

For years, Hagrid had lived as the murderer of Moaning Myrtle.

Of course, he had his own problems—raising wolf pups under his bed, keeping giant eight-legged spiders in secret...

It was hard to imagine what his roommate must have thought.

“Wizard Sean, come in—”

Hagrid was outside, pulling pumpkins from the ground; soon, Professor Flitwick would carve his enormous pumpkins into lanterns, a source of great pride for him.

“No, Hagrid,”

Wizard Sean said, waving his wand, and a stone rolled over, transforming into a table and chairs,

“Look at this...”

Wizard Sean handed him a replica of the diary.

Hagrid took the diary, confused, and soon stood frozen in the mud.

“The Daily Prophet has sent reporters; the basilisk’s shed skin has been found; Myrtle will testify that the killer was the basilisk...”

Wizard Sean said softly, “You’re innocent, Hagrid. Everyone will know it.”

Wizard Sean said softly.

“Ah, ah...”

Large tears seeped into Hagrid’s beard.

On this Halloween Eve, rumors spread through Hogwarts.

Outside, rain poured; the Great Hall became the perfect place to spread gossip.

“Have you heard about the Chamber of Secrets? And Slytherin’s Heir?”

A Hufflepuff whispered.

“Of course!”

The shorter Ernie tried to say more, but his mouth was clamped shut.

Because a group of Slytherins had just passed by.

“...I know, of course, though my father won’t tell me anything about when the Chamber was last opened.”

“Of course, that was fifty years ago—he wasn’t even born yet—but he knows everything.”

“He says it’s all top secret, known only to a select few.”

Malfoy paused, as if waiting for something.

Sure enough, someone soon began to praise him.

Even several older Slytherins listened with interest.

“Alright, I’ll tell you: the Chamber was opened once before; last time, a Mudblood died.”

“So if it opens again, I’d bet another Mudblood will die—just a matter of time... I hope it’s Granger.”

He said it with relish.

“And what about Slytherin’s Heir? Mr. Malfoy?”

Someone asked.

“Ha—”

Malfoy lifted his chin, said nothing—but everyone knew what he meant.

Pansy gazed at him adoringly; Goyle and Crabbe puffed out their fat faces.

They passed by the corner fireplace; they’d once dared not walk here, but now they’d forgotten.

“Only those of pure blood can... while the vile...”

Theodore began, pointedly.

“Shut up, Theodore!”

Malfoy hastily cut him off.

Wizard Sean held a copy of the Daily Prophet; when he looked up, Malfoy and the others had already fled.

“I hope their heads are harder than the basilisk’s.”

Ron snorted; if they knew Wizard Sean had single-handedly defeated a fifteen-meter-long basilisk with a sword, they’d find it impossible to even meet his gaze.

At dinner tonight,

Harry and the others still pretended to casually ask Wizard Sean how he’d fought the basilisk.

“I used some Transfiguration...”

The moment Wizard Sean began, Harry and the others stopped listening.

Well, they should’ve expected it—even if Wizard Sean summoned a meteor from the sky, he’d only say:

“I used a Summoning Charm.”

This slightly confused Wizard Sean, but it didn’t matter.

Rita Skeeter would arrive at Hogwarts tomorrow to write a new article about Hagrid—he had been wrongfully imprisoned and expelled from the school. Now, he needed to clear his name.

The difficulty was not low.

The Ministry of Magic might not bother with such a thankless task.

But Wizard Sean didn’t care much; what mattered was that people should know Hagrid had been framed.

Although Wizard Sean didn’t think Hagrid’s secret breeding of wolf pups and giant eight-legged spiders was right, clearly Tom’s crimes shouldn’t be laid at his door.

Night.

The library.

The Restricted Section lay at the back. Wizard Sean slipped past the rope separating it from the other books and entered with quiet excitement.

Perhaps he could find books related to the basilisk...

The Restricted Section held too many books; some bore faded, peeling gold lettering spelling out incomprehensible words;

others had no titles at all. One book bore a dark stain, like dried blood, looking terrifying;

Wizard Sean even heard faint whispers coming from within the books.

Soon, his gaze was drawn to one book; as he approached, it emitted a faint, foul-smelling smoke and let out a series of chilling screams.

Its cover was a small black-and-silver book,

bearing the title: The Most Toxic Magic.