Draco felt as though he had stumbled into an endless pipe. It was dark and sticky everywhere.
The wind caused by the convection made his face sore and a sharp blade seemed to slice across his ears.
The pipe was very steep in some places and was full of twists and turns. There were smaller pipes that made up the road, but they were clearly too narrow for a person to fit through.
For safety reasons, Draco used a floating technique to protect himself from shock and prevent accidents.
However, it seemed that his precautions were unnecessary.
The back part of the water pipe suddenly became horizontal, and Draco emerged from the mouth of the pipe and stepped steadily onto the wet ground. He found himself in a dark stone tunnel large enough for a person to stand inside.
"Lumos!" Draco waved his wand, illuminating the area around him.
Even though he slowed his pace, his footsteps still made a rattling sound on the damp ground.
The only sound in the tunnel was his footsteps, adding to the bleak atmosphere. Every so often, he stepped on a skull or other bones, producing a rattling sound.
"Is that the skin of a python?" Draco glanced at the large, bright green snake skin lying on the ground not far from him.
The creature that had shed this skin must have been at least twenty feet long, or about six meters.
Hunters in the forest often say, "I'd rather face 500 poisonous snakes than a python."
A bite from the former may have an antidote, but the latter will directly hang you, making you feel like there is less and less oxygen in your body as you slowly die.
Watching yourself go to death may be more frightening than death itself.
Draco now had to face the basilisk, a huge, poisonous beast.
Draco did not come to die, and his identity would not allow Riddle to kill him on sight.
Riddle had been alone for so long, and Lockhart and he would not be able to chat.
Most of the people at Hogwarts looked at him as though he were a fool.
In the original book, Riddle grumbled and whispered with Harry before starting the kill.
Draco continued to walk through the snake skin, turning corner after corner in the tunnel until he finally came to a strong wall with two intertwined snakes carved into it, their eyes set with large, shiny emeralds.
"It didn't work." Draco's body tensed as he attempted to transform his buttons, but found that they had no effect.
He tore open a rooster roaring letter and found it to be as deflated as a ball.
"He really was prepared." Draco shuddered, but this did not affect his plan.
"Open." Draco spoke to the two stone snakes in a forced version of the snake language.
The snakes on the wall began to slowly swim, causing the wall to split in half and reveal a passage.
Draco stepped inside.
He looked around. The room was long and dark, with many tall stone columns adorned with intertwined snakes.
These columns supported the ceiling that loomed in the darkness above, casting a long and grotesque black shadow on the room.
The room was filled with a mysterious green light.
"It's really uncomfortable to be stared at by this thing." Draco shivered as he felt that the stone snakes were watching him intensely, making him feel depressed and quite uncomfortable.
As he walked parallel to the last pair of stone pillars, a statue as tall as the room appeared in front of him, standing against the dark wall behind it.
It was a stone carving of an old man with a dragon-like, monkey-like face and a sparse, long beard that almost touched the hem of his wizard's robe.
Two gray feet stood on the smooth floor of the room, and between those feet was a man in an emerald green robe with wavy blond hair.
"Oh," Draco sighed to himself. He was presumably seeing one thing, and seeing it again with his own eyes.
When he really saw Lockhart, his mood was still very complicated. He didn't expect this straw bag to be so disappointing.
A figure suddenly emerged from behind the stone pillar. Draco knew at a glance that this was the Lord.
The figure had black hair and a tall stature, but his body was not completely solid and was slightly transparent, giving the impression of being a ghost.
"Oh?" The teenager spoke.
"I thought Harry Potter would come here, but I didn't expect it to be you."
"I think about it," he said to himself.
"Well, Lockhart is suspecting except Harry, because you gave him a bottle of his favorite whiskey, which is ridiculous. Draco Malfoy, right?" Riddle looked at Malfoy, his tone a bit ridiculous, and it seemed to be directed at Lockhart.
So far, he showed no malice, perhaps because Draco is a pureblood.
"Master Dark Lord!" Malfoy began his act again, holding his chest with both hands and showing a fanatical expression as he shouted piously.
Riddle was shocked when he heard the name, his eyes suddenly sharpening and he seemed ready to kill if he did not agree.
Draco completely ignored him, and as if he had found something, he rushed towards the diary beside Lockhart.
"Stay away from that book!" Riddle screamed sharply, and the scarlet light flashed in his eyes.
Draco ignored it and quickly took out a bottle filled with bright red liquid, pouring it on the diary.
"How Dare you!" Riddle raised the wand in his hand, but it was very uncoordinated.
Lockhart's wand was too clumsy body unable cooperate to his mind control, covered with various patterns, but Riddle could only use it, but he stopped again shortly.
"Oh, the taste of life." Riddle licked the corner of his mouth, intoxicated as if enjoying an old wine.
He put down his wand.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Dragon Blood," Malfoy stuttered, seeming to realize that he was a little sick just now.
"Master Dark Lord, you misunderstood. She's pureblood too, from the Parkinson family. She's my girlfriend and absolutely loyal," Draco said hurriedly, trying to signal to Pansy to swear allegiance.
Pansy just looked at them numbly.
"Oh, little Draco, you are a little naive," Riddle laughed. "Your eyes are not better than the nose of my basilisk."
"She is definitely a mudblood," Riddle said, raising his hand to cast a spell. Draco's eyes widened in fear, but he was powerless to stop it. The only thing that gave him a small sense of relief was that the spell was not green. He could only pray that his training had prepared him for this moment.
"Your performance just now was good. Do it again!" he thought, recalling Pansy's performance in the lounge earlier.
Hermione's defensive spell, "Protego," proved to be completely ineffective. The spell only slowed briefly before breaking through the invisible barrier.
"Did you see that?" Riddle laughed. "Potion? I have to admit, even for a mudblood, being able to brew this Potion in the second year is impressive."
"So, you can die knowing that you've been praised by me. You are the first mudblood that I have praised," Riddle said, raising his wand again, ready to cast the killing curse.
Draco was speechless, as if in a trance. He saw Pansy's face gradually morph into Hermione's, standing there pale and full of anger and despair.
Everything about Pansy's strange behavior suddenly made sense.
"What about the butterfly effect?" Draco thought frantically, trying to come up with a plan. He couldn't even predict how the story would progress.
Earlier ~~~
"Master Dark Lord!" Hermione, who was hiding behind the pillar, was almost startled by the title.
"Dragon Blood"... Hermione thought of the dragon blood that Draco had threatened them with during their first year.
"My father doesn't want to believe that you're dead. He's convinced that the Dark Lord is impossible to kill. You're an omnipotent god, and a mere body can't stop you."
"So he decided to return to the wizarding society temporarily to lay the foundations for your comeback. I think you already know from Lockhart's mind that our family is very rich and can definitely work for you."
"So please forgive him for his betrayal before."
"It turns out he's always been loyal to the mysterious man. Their father and son actually resurrected the mysterious man." Hermione realized how ridiculous her previous thoughts had been. She had actually wanted to protect a little Death Eater and had even had feelings for him. Now she felt guilty.
"But why does my heart hurt so much?" Hermione felt like her heart had been cut with a blunt knife and was bleeding, but it wasn't immediately fatal.
"Is Hogsmold's day all fake? Are the reminders on that note all fake?" she asked herself.
"Yes," she told herself. "He probably just wanted to play with the emotions of a Muggle-born wizard, so he did this to me."
"As for the reminder, it must be that he wanted us to die personally and be killed by the mysterious man in the final level." Don't underestimate anyone's ability to come up with rationalizations. Hermione was a bit stunned, but her thoughts made sense.
She forced herself to calm down. She had heard so many secrets; she had to leave here alive and tell Dumbledore. As for Draco, she didn't want to think about him anymore.
It was up to the school to decide what to do with him.
Poor Hermione's flower of love had been planted, sprouted, and then uprooted by someone's unintentional cruelty.
"You seem to have brought a tail with you, and it's still a dirty mudblood."... But now she had been found and was likely to die in the next second.
"Oh," Riddle laughed again and said to Malfoy: "Look at this mudblood, what is she going to do?"
Hermione grabbed a handful of roaring letters and scattered them into the air.
"I just praised you for being smart, why are you being stupid again now?" Riddle mocked.
"The Magic Artefacts are invalid. The anti-cheat charm invented by these teachers is really good." He applauded the curse, which made Hermione's heart colder.
"Oh, it looks like you think you can defeat the Basilisk?" Riddle smiled more happily, his arms crossed as he watched Hermione wave her wand like a clown, not prepared to stop at all.
Hermione felt like her body had fallen into an ice cave. The cold permeated every corner of her body.
She's dying.
"Looking at you, it seems you think it's okay to get rid of the Basilisk?" Riddle's mouth was slightly ridiculed.
"If my faithful servant hadn't given me dragon blood before, maybe I wouldn't have any threats, but now it's different." Riddle looked at his hands, intoxicated. "Now my body is getting closer to perfection."
"It's more than enough to deal with a mudblood like you." He raised his wand again, like a cat with a tired mouse. When he felt that the mouse was terrified to the extreme, he got bored and was about to eat it.
"Master Dark Lord, wait." Draco stopped talking.
"Yes?" Riddle condensed his smile, frowning as he looked at Draco suspiciously. "Are you going to plead for this dirty mudblood?"
"No, no, Master Dark Lord." Draco shook his head quickly.
"I'm sorry, sir." He went on. "I just forgot it." Malfoy pulled out a bottle from his arms, filled with silver liquid.
"The first battle of the Lord's resurrection should not be flawed," Draco said. "This is the blood of a unicorn, and with it, your body should be perfect. I was so excited just now that I forgot, I should be damned."
"En." Riddle nodded. "In terms of vitality, this thing is more powerful than dragon blood." His mood improved, and a little mistake by his servant was worthy of forgiveness, wasn't it? Moreover, this mistake made him even more pleasantly surprised.
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