Chapter 6 The Eve Before Dawn
The snow scene of Hogwarts is like a magical painting. Whenever winter comes, this ancient magic school will be covered with a layer of pure white snow, as if the whole world is cast under a silence spell.
Snowflakes gently fell from the gray-blue sky. They spun and jumped in the air like living elves, and finally landed quietly on every inch of Hogwarts.
The castle's spires and roofs, enveloped in a thick blanket of snow, appear even more majestic and mysterious. The warm yellow light from the windows casts dappled shadows on the snow, creating a stark contrast to the surrounding snow-covered world.
Students wearing heavy cloaks walked through the corridors and courtyards on the crunching snow, leaving behind a series of clear footprints.
The grass on the Quidditch pitch has turned into a huge white plane, waiting for the brave players to soar on it again.
The lake was frozen over, reflecting the colors of the sky, and occasionally a few brave creatures could be seen walking carefully on the ice.
The edge of the forbidden forest was also outlined by snow, and the branches of the trees were covered with crystal clear icicles, like crystal chandeliers in nature.
The clouds reflected the light of the snow and sprinkled it on the ancient castle, which seemed to be shrouded in the faint silver glow of moonlight, peaceful and sacred.
On a snowy day like this, even the most playful students slowed down unconsciously.
The platinum-blond hair flashed in the dark brown corridor. He looked gloomy and alone, and was out of place with the groups of people in the tavern.
Harry looked at Draco, whose eyes were silent and deep when he looked at him, frowned slightly, and instinctively chased after him quickly.
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron looked at him in surprise. Harry suddenly looked determined and ran away quickly.
"I'll talk to you later. See you in the lounge." Harry waved his hand without looking back. When the voice came, his figure had disappeared around the corner.
"What's wrong with this guy these days? He's acting weird." Ron scratched his head puzzledly and asked Hermione in confusion.
"What else could it be? It must be Malfoy again. Since the beginning of the school year, he has been like this whenever Malfoy is involved. He is at odds with Malfoy." Hermione shook her hair helplessly. She really wanted to complain that Harry's current behavior was too childish.
"Malfoy? Harry hasn't given up yet." Ron opened his eyes wide in surprise, and then said gloatingly: "That's too bad."
"Let's just leave him alone and wait and see what he says tonight." Hermione shrugged and took the beer glass. She didn't bother to pay attention to Malfoy. That guy didn't deserve any sympathy at all.
"Okay." Ron nodded and drank his beer.
Harry followed Draco nimbly, watching him enter the private room nervously, and then escape from the Three Broomsticks with a pale face, as if he had been attacked by a Dementor.
"Draco, what do you want to do?" Harry grabbed the boy's hand holding the wand, frowned in confusion, his eyes silent.
How did he come up with such a brilliant idea as to use the Imperius Curse to make Betty deliver Voldemort's Horcrux to Dumbledore?
"What does what I'm going to do have to do with you, Potter?" Draco gave him a cold look and shook off Harry's grip.
"You're going to use the Imperius Curse at Hogwarts!" Harry glared at the boy angrily.
"So what? Are you going to call the Ministry of Magic to take me to Azkaban?" Draco raised the corner of his lips and revealed a mocking smile, "That would save us a lot of trouble."
"The great savior has accomplished another great feat. He captured a Death Eater for the Ministry of Magic in the sixth grade. Gryffindor gets one hundred points! Congratulations, Mr. Potel," Draco clapped his hands and chanted in admiration.
"You know, Harry, sometimes I really hate you." Draco suddenly showed a sarcastic smile, and his low voice was mixed with hoarse tones.
"I hate your right to do so, I hate your disregard for your purpose, I hate your willingness." Draco's pale cheeks were flushed with a sickly color, his right hand tightly gripped the wand, and his left hand pressed down on the elbow that was branded with the Death Eater's mark.
"The destined savior is brave and courageous, while the born Death Eater is afraid of death."
"But tell me, what should we do besides obeying and relying on others? What can we do... I, have no way..." Draco bent his elbows to cover his eyes, leaned back weakly, and leaned listlessly against the cold wall.
His head ached violently, his vision was dizzy, and his nose was once again filled with a strong fishy smell.
The dim cell smelled of decay, and was damp, stuffy, and moldy. His father was curled up on a thin stone bed.
The blurry figure looked like a rag blown by the wind, or like drifting smoke.
Dense swarms of Dementors were flying across the wall, like flocks of crows or dark sea water.
There was nothing in the dark and empty cell except for hoarse cries coming from far or near. No matter whether you roared or screamed or cursed bitterly, it could not distract from the despair that arose in your heart at all times and the madness that was surging day by day.
Draco's tears streamed down his cheeks. His body was shaking, and his throat seemed to be stuck with something, making it difficult for him to breathe.
Was that fear? No, it was anger. His anger burned in his chest like a flame, burning through his limbs and bones.
He resents, he hates, he hates!
He wanted to stand up and rush out, taking him and them with him, to escape from here, but his body collapsed with weakness.
The hand seemed to have its own consciousness, clutching the savior's sleeve tightly as if grasping a life-saving straw.
"Harry, help me." He raised his head and looked at Harry's face. His beautiful and delicate face was stained with crystal liquid, and his eyes were misty, as if tears would fall at any time.
Harry was stunned for a moment, looking at the once arrogant and bright boy, who was in pain, struggle, and despair, like a black rose that was about to wilt and die.
This was a scene Harry had never seen before. It was like falling into an endless hell in an instant, with no hope of escape.
For the first time, Harry wanted to take a serious look at Draco Malfoy.
His appearance was undoubtedly extremely beautiful.
She had smooth, beautiful blonde hair, a pale, pointed, oval face, and thin lips that always had a mocking smile on their faces.
And the pair of gray-blue eyes covered by him were like gems hidden in the mist, filled with misty tears when they were wronged, making people want to reach out and touch and comfort them.
With Draco's hoarse and sad sobs in his ears and his loud and passionate laughter in his head, Harry gently approached Draco, put out his hands to cover his trembling shoulders, and pulled him up with all his strength.
"Let's find a place to sit down and talk, Draco." He patted the boy's back, his tone as gentle as possible.
"No need," Draco shook his head. "I'll wait for you on the top floor after curfew tonight." He smiled, but his smile was sadder than crying.
"Okay." Harry pursed his lips and looked down at him with deep concern in his eyes.
Draco forced a smile, then turned and hurried away, disappearing into the dazzling snow.
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