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27.75% Harry Potter System Gamer / Chapter 73: Chapter 70

Chapter 73: Chapter 70

"Filch's cat. That dratted mule of a man must be behind it!" Draco hissed. "Come on! We need to hide."

They both raced off towards the nearest classroom door and let themselves in. Quietly shutting the door, they both put their ears against the door and listened with bated breath.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner," they heard the muffled voice through the door. It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding." His voice faded away as they heard the shuffling of feet that went deeper into the dungeon.

"He's gone. Let's go." Harry mouthed to the other boy.

The blond grabbed the handle and pushed. The door didn't budge. "It's locked!" Draco snarled. "The foolish caretaker must have bolted it shut!"

"I don't think so," Harry muttered. Draco watched, puzzled as Harry took out a piece of paper from his pocket and slid it into the gap between the door and the wall. Then he slid it through the entire length of the door, without encountering any resistance.

"The paper slid all the way through. This door doesn't have any bolts or locks," Harry said, looking at the door curiously, "I think he used a locking charm."

Draco frowned. "But I thought the caretaker was a squib?"

"They could be just rumors. Besides, don't worry about it too much. Locking charms wear away pretty easily. We should be able to get out pretty soon."

Draco stared for a moment before nodding. They both went over the room and each sat down on one of the chairs.

"So what were you doing down in the dungeons so late Mr. Potter?"

"You can call me Harry. If we're going to be stuck in this room we might as well stop being so formal. I was going back to the tower from Snape's detention. "

"Detention in the first week," Draco sounded impressed, "That has to be some sort of new record!"

"Fastest in fifty years," Harry replied with a smile, "What were you doing outside your dorms? Doesn't Slytherin have a curfew or something?"

"Oh, we do. It's just that none of us obey it. Besides Filch rarely comes down to the dungeons, so we don't have problems," He frowned at the door, "Usually."

They sat there in silence for a few moments. Harry thought back to how he'd seen that Draco's description said that he was being tortured by his father.

Draco Malfoy

Lv-4

HP-320/320

Race-Wizard

Str-5

Vit-4

Dex-4

Int-6

Wis-3

Luc-3

Draco Malfoy is a pure-blood wizard and the only heir of the Malfoy family. The son of a Death Eater, Draco was raised to believe strongly in the importance of blood purity. He wishes to be sorted into Slytherin house. Despite his father's violent torturous teaching sessions about blood purity and 'old times' Draco looks up to him and admires him.

Reading it all again and thinking for a second about what he'd say, Harry asked, "So why are you so keen on having an alliance with me?"

"What do you mean?" For some reason, Draco's voice had gone entirely emotionless.

"Your father wasn't exactly on the side of my parents' lot in the wizarding war," Harry replied, "And even before the war our houses were political opposites. I've looked it up. And while my fame might be an attractive trait to your father to capitalize on, I sincerely doubt someone of his political clout would need a celebrity endorsement. I mean look at his resume! Hogwarts board governor, top Ministry diplomat, an active member of Wizengamot and a majority owner of the wizarding world's biggest newspaper 'The Daily Prophet'. He has an arm or leg in every major branch of the wizarding world. Someone with that kind of political power doesn't need my fame. So what does he want from me? More importantly, what do you want from me Draco?"

"I-I don-don't know wha-" Draco seemed entirely thrown off. Clearly he hadn't expected Harry to work it out.

"Spare me the lies Draco. The truth please," the skill of bloodlust added that extra bit of magical intimidation to Harry's voice.

Draco looked afraid and hopeful at the same time and Harry absently realized what this bloodlust voice could look like to someone who wanted him to turn out to be a dark lord. He'd read in Draco's description that it was exactly what he thought.

The blond boy replied after a moment, "Well…lots of stuff has been in circulation for years about how you survived what should have been a lethal attack. Father believes that you're a great Dark wizard. The fact that you'd been removed from the wizarding community seemed to have supported this. He and a lot of his allies believe that you'll prove to be another, greater pure-blood champion. That you'd bring back the glory of the old days and protect us from the muggle invasion."

A long silence stretched through the empty room. Harry didn't break it.

"So are you?" Draco asked, breaking the silence that had stretched, looking desperately hopeful. "A dark wizard? Are you in training? Is Father right?"

"No," Harry's voice was flat.

Draco started to hyperventilate. "Maybe you're too young? I'll keep your secrets. I can wait. I can wait for as long as you need to train. I mean-"

"No Draco. I won't follow the path of the man that murdered my parents. I am not the next dark lord."

"B-but you have to be! Yo-you're Harry Potter! You destroyed the dark lord! And you didn't even know your parents really! You could've been brainwashed by muggles-you have to be-"

"DRACO!" Harry said sharply, breaking Draco out of the panic attack he was slipping into. "Calm down! It's okay."

"You don't understand. He spent months before the Express training me. He would force me to learn how to act as I should in front of a new Dark Lord. Hours of telling me of how you'd bring back the glory days. And every time I got something wrong…and if he found out that all that was for nothing, he'd…he'd…"

Draco's hands were trembling.

Harry knew then and there what Malfoy Sr. was torturing Draco about. Guilt settled like a heavy weight in Harry's stomach. He didn't agree with their side's motives, nor their methods. But desperately clinging on to the last shreds of hope for something they desperately wanted…Harry could understand that.

Draco took a deep breath and continued. He seemed to have given up on his Dark Lord theory and was getting angry.

"Before you entered our world, my father would ask for how I was. He would care for what I wanted. But ever since you came around every single letter is about 'What is Potter doing' and 'Did you manage to gain Potter's trust' and 'Is Potter a Dark Lord?' and it's like he's forgotten me. When I came to this school I thought I was finally free to act as I wanted. And now I have to go around censoring everything I say and do so that Potter doesn't find it offensive. I don't care! I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!"

"Then don't," Harry's voice was quiet, yet somehow just as intense as Draco's screams of rage. "Tell your father you have my trust."

Their gazes met and Draco knew that Harry understood. "And do I?" Draco asked, calmer now, "Do I have your trust?"

"Not yet."

The door clicked open.

"Well, looks like the Locking Charm finally wore out," Harry said quietly. There was a moment of silence in which the two boys stood at the opposite ends of the classroom.

"I suppose I will…see you around…Harry," Draco finally replied and slipped out of the room.

Much like how he hadn't seen Harry cast the locking charm when they entered the classroom, he had not seen Harry cast the Alohamora charm from the wand up his sleeve.

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Chapter 74: Chapter 71

The crackling of the fire burning in the common room fireplace echoed around the room, barely masking Harry's worried footsteps as he paced back and forth. It was early morning the Sunday after Snape's detention and Harry was feeling unusually conflicted and worried about what he should do.

The professors, or at the very least Snape, suspected Quirrell's misdemeanors and yet for some reason, they didn't seem to have any intention of sacking him. Harry had not heard even a whisper of any rumor of the DADA Professor being in any sort of trouble.

"Why?"

Harry kept trying and failing to think of why they would do that. Perhaps they were trying to make sure that Quirrell wouldn't be able to run free around the wizarding world doing whatever he pleased with no surveillance? Dumbledore was a pretty powerful wizard, so they could be trying to contain him till they collected enough evidence of his illegal deeds…

Harry's train of thought ground to a stop.

"What did he do that was illegal?" Harry whispered to himself, and it all clicked in his head. He himself had no tangible and real evidence that anything wrong was going on. The only thing he had seen him do was to try to kill a unicorn, which was pretty reprehensible, but still legal. Their body parts were used in potions after all!

"Damn it!" he exclaimed out loud, angrily dropping into the chair by the fireplace.

When it all came down to it, all Harry was doing was working off a hunch and a vague clue that a professor had given him. A powerful hunch, but a hunch nonetheless. He had to collect more evidence…more information on what Quirrell was up to.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he leaned into the paper in front of him. The entire conversation of the night of the detention was written on it. Every single thing of any importance that the Professor had told him about Quirrell was in those paragraphs on the paper. Picking it up, he started reading it again.

Quirinus Quirrell is a dangerous man. The fact that he hasn't harmed any students in the school shows that he's after something else. Something powerful and useful enough that he'd risk drinking unicorn blood for it. You know what drinking unicorn blood does, don't you Potter? It is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn. The only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips. You're an intelligent one Potter. You'll work it out yourself. But when you do, think twice before going after it. There are people who'd rather have you go after it and test your character. But I say don't. You don't owe this world a thing.

Cutting it all down, he was left with just a few raw hard facts.

Quirinus Quirrell was a dangerous man. He was after something in the school. Something powerful. Snape knew what it was, and he believed that Harry would want to go after if he knew about it. Quirrell had been careful not to do anything illegal so that he couldn't be removed from the school before he got what he wanted.

Harry looked at the information he had with disdain and threw the paper into the common room fire. This wasn't enough to do anything at all!

'Okay, calm down,' he told himself, "There has to be something hidden in there. Snape was giving me a hint. All I need to do is figure out what it means, right? '

Calming down, he started to consider the larger picture.

Quirrell had been a Muggle Studies teacher for years before he was DADA. Why hadn't he stolen what he needed before this?

'Because whatever he wants wasn't here before. It's something new to the school. It's something powerful, so it has to be pretty well hidden or guarded too. And it's something Snape thought I would go after. Most people just think of me as some sort of young hero and I don't think I've given Snape any reason to think otherwise, so I guess he must have thought that I would try to protect the artifact, whatever it was.'

"So what is something new to the school and well protected," Harry mused out aloud.

"New and protected? Well, it could be whatever is being hidden in that third-floor corridor," a voice said from over his shoulder, making Harry jump a foot.

It was Terry. Grinning at Harry, he sat down on the chair beside him.

"Hidden?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Yup. Heard there's a real Cerberus in there, standing on a trap door." Terry said as he leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes.

"How come I didn't know that? Where'd you find out about it?" Harry asked incredulously.

Terry looked at him with raised eyebrows before dryly replying, "You would know if you talked to people outside the common room a little more. The Weasley twins have been in there at least twice."

Harry's face reddened a little. "I thought Ravenclaws were all about books and knowledge. Isn't socializing more of a Slytherin thing?"

"Socializing is a human thing, Harry. And people can give you knowledge, too you know."

Embarrassed, Harry muttered a thank you and they both lapsed into silence, waiting for rest of the boys to come down and leave for breakfast.

Internally though, Harry was cursing himself in his head for not seeing it earlier. The answer had been staring at his face from literally the first day he'd entered the school.

The third-floor corridor. That needed more investigation.

One thing was sure, Quirrell was not safe to be around children, least of all around his new friends. Until he was sure that the turbaned professor was no threat, Harry was dead set to keep working to foil whatever he intended to do.

"So what are you guys doing today?" Harry asked Terry, who plonked himself down beside him at the Ravenclaw table, as he poured a spoonful of sugar into his porridge.

"Nothing too concrete. I'll probably check out the fiction section of the library," Terry said, "Got to say, muggles may not have magic, but their fiction has these wizarding novels beat fair and square."

"Homework," Michael chimed in through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Well Anthony and I are off to the Quidditch pitch to see the Ravenclaw team practice," added Stephen, frowning at Michael, as if revolted by his despicable table manners. He turned to Harry, "Wanna come?"

"I thought it was supposed to be the two of us," Anthony muttered. Harry frowned a bit. Had he somehow alienated the boy? He had always been polite to him.

Replying to Stephen's question, he said, "Nah mate. I'm good. I have my issues with that sport and I don't think I could sit through an actual game without lecturing both of your ears off."

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