"You were far too impulsive back there," Harry said with clear disapproval.
In the Gryffindor common room, he frowned deeply as he watched Ron pace anxiously back and forth in front of the fireplace, creating another track in the carpet.
Ron seemed to have developed this particular habitual action recently, as if only constant physical movement could somehow release the pent-up anxiety churning within him.
"You shouldn't have just grabbed his sleeve like that in front of everyone," Harry sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Last night we both saw it with our own eyes clearly, the mark on Malfoy's arm has completely disappeared. That wasn't an illusion or trick. Professor Westeros removed it."
"So, what does that actually matter?" Ron stopped abruptly in his tracks, spinning to face Harry.
His face was flushed with frustration. "We all know exactly what Malfoy is like deep down. He's a standard Death Eater at heart! Removing his Dark Mark was just a temporary measure to protect himself from You-Know-Who... and Dumbledore is actually willing to just let him stay here!? Like nothing happened? He'll get that mark burned back on sooner or later, the moment he thinks it's safe!"
"I don't necessarily disagree with your concerns," Harry admitted after a long moment of thought, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe we should try to ask Dumbledore directly, or Professor Westeros, why they're still letting him stay at Hogwarts without any punishment. There must be a reason."
"Come off it, Harry," Ron said bitterly, spreading his hands in a gesture of resigned acceptance, as if he'd already come to terms with an unfair reality. "Snape is also a former Death Eater—everyone knows it, even if it's not discussed openly. I'd bet my entire collection of Chocolate Frog cards that he has the Dark Mark on his arm too, hidden under those black bat robes. But he's our Potions professor now, isn't he? Teaching us every day."
Harry had no real response to that uncomfortable truth.
Although he genuinely trusted Dumbledore and Professor Westeros's judgment implicitly after everything they'd been through, the fact that Malfoy had received no punishment whatsoever still bothered him deeply.
He simply couldn't accept it as fair or right.
"We need to keep a close eye on Malfoy," Ron continued with determined intensity. "Watch his every move. Sooner or later, he'll slip up and reveal his true colors. People don't change that easily."
Over the next several days, Harry and Ron secretly observed Malfoy's movements and behavior with the dedication of trained Aurors.
Harry had also tried carefully asking Adrian about the situation during one of their meetings, and the answer he'd received was: Malfoy had genuinely reformed and completely severed all ties with the Death Eaters.
But Harry didn't really believe it, not in his heart.
He firmly believed that Malfoy, as a devoted, lifelong supporter of "pure-blood supremacy" theory and prejudice, would definitely find a way to rejoin Voldemort's camp eventually.
People like that didn't change.
In March at Hogwarts, the Scottish weather began to grow increasingly unpredictable and moody.
The sky outside the castle's windows was sometimes oppressively gloomy and gray, thick with menacing clouds. Other times it would suddenly clear up intensely with bright sunshine breaking through. The weather shifts were just like the constant ups and downs of Harry and his friends' moods, unpredictable and volatile.
This morning, Harry was awakened abruptly by the continuous patter of cold rain against his dormitory window.
"Bloody terrible weather," Ron muttered sourly at the window, his breath condensing into white mist on the cold glass as he peered out. "Are we still going to tail and watch Malfoy today? In this rain?"
"Forget it for now," Harry said wearily, waving his hand dismissively from his warm bed, not yet ready to face the day. "We can pick it up again when it clears."
For the entire past week, they'd been carefully monitoring Malfoy's movements and activities like amateur detectives.
As for the results of their surveillance...
There were absolutely no results worth mentioning.
Malfoy was completely, frustratingly normal in every observable way.
Every single day he attended all his classes on time, ate his meals in the Great Hall, presumably slept in his dormitory...
Well, Harry couldn't actually verify that last one without breaking into the Slytherin dungeons.
The only noticeable difference from his previous behavior was that when Malfoy saw Harry and Ron in the corridors, he didn't come over to mock them or start confrontations anymore. He just walked past without comment.
That was truly strange and unsettling in its own way.
However, Harry's well-developed instinct for trouble told him there must still be something wrong with Malfoy, something hidden beneath the surface of apparent normality.
"Wait! Harry, look outside quickly!" Ron suddenly shouted with excitement, pressing his face against the cold glass.
Harry scrambled up from his bed and rushed to the window, nearly tripping over his discarded robes.
Through the rain-blurred glass, he could just make out two fuzzy figures conversing at the base of Gryffindor Tower below.
"It's Malfoy and Professor Westeros!" Harry said, squinting hard. He was surprised he could even recognize them through the heavy rain and distance.
The rainwater seemed to automatically divert above their heads, as if blocked by an invisible umbrella, it was clearly a magical shield of some kind.
"What are they saying to each other?" Ron pressed his face harder against the glass, trying unsuccessfully to read their lips. "Can you tell?"
Two seconds later, he gave up in frustration.
Well, he didn't actually know lip-reading at all, that was a skill for spies and Aurors. And at this large distance, he couldn't see their lips clearly anyway through the rain.
Harry shook his head, feeling equally frustrated. "It's too far away to tell. But it shouldn't matter much as Professor Westeros is right there with him supervising, so Malfoy can't pull anything suspicious or dangerous."
At that moment, Ron suddenly grew anxious, his eyes were widening with a new thought.
"Wait, this is bad! I think we've been missing something important all along. Why exactly would Malfoy join the Death Eaters in the first place? He must be plotting something terrible for the school. Maybe tomorrow night he'll find a way to open the school gates and let You-Know-Who and his followers march right in!"
"Voldemort hasn't actually returned to full power yet," Harry said helplessly, putting his hand to his forehead in exasperation at Ron's increasingly wild theories.
Ron's mind seemed to be running a beat slow this morning, still in a daze of paranoid speculation.
Never mind that Voldemort hadn't been fully resurrected yet—Hogwarts had Dumbledore in permanent residence, along with dozens of capable professors.
Harry didn't think for a moment that Dumbledore couldn't handle Voldemort if he tried to attack the school directly.
Besides...
Wasn't it perhaps a bit late to be seriously discussing this particular problem after an entire week had already passed without incident?
Meanwhile, on the empty, rain-soaked lawn at the base of Gryffindor Tower, far below the watching students.
Malfoy was attempting to cast various spells under Adrian's careful direction and observation, practicing controlled magic use.
"Engorgio Skullus!" Malfoy pronounced the incantation clearly and precisely, his wand tip pointing steadily at a smooth stone about ten feet away.
The dark spell shot from his wand with unexpected force like a purple-tinged bolt of magic.
The curse hit its intended mark perfectly, and the stone's surface immediately displayed disturbing patterns resembling a grotesque human skull. Then the entire stone rapidly swelled like an overinflating balloon, growing to three times its original size before finally exploding violently into fine powder with a sharp "bang".
This was a particularly nasty dark magic curse whose primary effect was to cause the victim's head to swell abnormally and painfully, causing tremendous agony and being extremely difficult to reverse without specialized counter-curses.
Of course, it could also be cast on inanimate objects for practice or demonstration purposes.
Just like that unfortunate stone, now reduced to scattered powder on the wet grass.
"How does it feel?" Adrian asked with interest, watching Malfoy's reaction carefully. "Any difference from your previous casting?"
However, even though the spell's effect had been impressively powerful, far beyond what a fifth-year student should achieve, there was no trace of satisfaction or smile on Malfoy's pale face.
He stared down at the shattered stone fragments on the ground, his brow deeply furrowed with concern. "Strange... my Engorgio Skullus curse has never had such a devastatingly strong effect before. It usually just causes moderate swelling, not such complete destruction."
Then he looked down and carefully examined his wand, turning it in his fingers. "Could it be because of my wand? Did something change with the wood?"
Adrian shook his head slowly. "No, your wand is fine. It seems the body-modification ritual magic that Voldemort forced you in to, has actually taken effect on your physiology."
"What?" Malfoy was greatly shocked, his eyes began widening in alarm. "That ritual magic can also enhance my magical power? Isn't that actually a good thing then? A benefit?"
Adrian shook his head slightly, his expression grave.
Magic wasn't such a simple thing, it never was.
"Every benefit comes with a corresponding price," He sighed. "Do you honestly think there could be such a good deal anywhere in the world? Free power without consequences?"
Malfoy's face instantly turned stony pale, the color draining completely. His fingers unconsciously tightened around his wand until his knuckles showed white.
"Is there a serious problem?" He asked with growing unease, his voice began cracking slightly. "What's the price?"
"Let me explain it in simple terms you can understand," Adrian began gravely. "Voldemort used that ritual magic to thoroughly modify your body at a biological level, making it more physically and magically compatible with his particular soul. As a side effect, you'll also cast dark magic more smoothly and powerfully than before. Can you understand what I'm saying so far?"
Malfoy nodded jerkily, fear growing in his expression.
"Well, that compatibility extends to another serious problem," Adrian continued his explanation, his tone becoming even more serious.
"After your body has been modified to suit Voldemort's soul, your own soul may no longer be fully compatible with your altered body. If the modification had been allowed to continue unchecked, you would have eventually lost your physical body completely."
"What?" Malfoy's voice came out as a whisper, panic flooding his face.
Losing one's physical body for an ordinary person without a Horcrux to anchor them—wouldn't that simply mean death?
Seeing Malfoy's growing terror filled face, Adrian gave a slight chuckle to soothe his worries. "Of course, this is merely my speculation based on dark magic theory. I'm not personally proficient in the deepest matters of the soul, that's quite a specialized knowledge which requires years even decades of research. Perhaps you could ask Voldemort himself if you ever meet again; he's the acknowledged master in this particular area."
"What should I do?" Malfoy asked, his voice sounded heavy with despair. "Is there any way to reverse it?"
"Oh, there's no need to panic just yet," Adrian said more reassuringly, patting his thin shoulder.
"That modification magic has already been removed along with the Dark Mark, hasn't it? Since your soul hasn't separated from your body yet, that means you're basically fine for the time being... and as you yourself observed, your magical power is now evidently stronger than before. That's actually a significant benefit you get to keep."
Malfoy felt somewhat reassured by this practical assessment, his breathing began evening out.
However...
One disturbing thought remained: his body had actually been altered to become better suited to Voldemort's soul than his own!
Thinking about it carefully in that way, it was really rather disgusting and violating.
Like his body had been prepared as a suit for someone else to wear.
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