HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

The days proceeded smoothly amidst the students' anticipation of the Triwizard Tournament, with whispers about the competition always echoing in the castle's corridors.

That noon, after finishing their divination class, West and his friends came down from the North Tower and joined the crowd heading to the Great Hall.

Ron, clutching a rickety stack of textbooks, complained bitterly, "I hate Potions! So much homework! My whole weekend is ruined! A paper three inches long!"

West sighed softly, "If you're not good at it, don't blame the road for being uneven."

Harry patted West on the shoulder sympathetically. This guy was the worst off; he had to write three more Potions papers than them.

Is this the price of becoming Professor Snape's teaching assistant?

Hermione, on the other hand, was radiant. "Professor Victor didn't assign any homework! He said we should spend our time understanding the essence of magic..."

At the fork in the road leading to the cellar, West parted ways with them, promising to meet again in a while.

As Harry, Harry, and his friends entered the foyer, Draco's voice rang out from their side.

"Weasley, your dad's in the newspaper!" Draco tossed the Daily Prophet to Ron.

Ron flipped through the Daily Prophet with annoyance, muttering, "The Ministry of Magic's in trouble again... Who's Arnold Weasley? That damned Rita Skeeter, she didn't even spell my dad's name correctly!"

Ron threw the newspaper onto the long table, sat down to eat, and took two vicious bites of the chicken leg.

Draco was about to say something when he glanced at Harry, who was standing there dumbfounded.

He followed Harry's gaze and saw the Asian girl from Ravenclaw, Cho Chang.

A sudden surge of anger welled up inside Draco, and he kicked Harry in the shin. "Potter! What are you looking at?!"

"Ouch—Draco!" Harry cried out in pain, staggering to sit on the bench. Coming to his senses, he looked somewhat embarrassed.

He couldn't very well say that he was looking at that girl's bracelet.

It was a silver chain that had looped several times, winding around the girl's slender wrist, strung with an obsidian stone, and was very exquisite.

If worn on Draco's wrist, obsidian would complement his pale blue veins and soft, snow-white skin perfectly...

But Harry certainly wouldn't tell Draco any of this.

Harry swallowed hard. "Um...it's nothing."

Draco raised an eyebrow, grabbed Harry's tie, and forced him to look up. "You like that Ravenclaw?"

His gaze darted back and forth between Harry and Cho Chang, a coldness on his face that he himself didn't even realize.

Hermione keenly sensed the change in atmosphere and pretended to be focused on cutting the pie on her plate, but her ears were already perked up.

"How is that possible!" Harry's voice suddenly rose, causing several Hufflepuff students nearby to turn and look.

He stared at Draco's face, which was so close to his own—those gray eyes, which were always full of sarcasm, now held a hint of emotion he couldn't decipher.

As if possessed, Harry blurted out, "I like you!"

The lobby suddenly became so quiet that you could hear the sound of Pippi the Ghost throwing feces bombs upstairs.

Hermione's fork froze in mid-air, and Ron's jaw nearly hit the table. At the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang gasped in surprise, covering his mouth.

Draco's face turned even redder than a Quake.

He loosened Harry's tie and took two steps back as if burned: "You...what nonsense are you talking about!"

Harry then realized what he had said, but looking at Draco's flushed ears and darting eyes, a crazy thought suddenly struck him—maybe Draco also…

"I'm serious." Harry stood up and stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. "Draco, I—"

"Don't say it!" Draco shrieked, his wand already drawn, itching to give Harry a tongue-locking spell right away.

"Don't do that, kid!" A shout rang out in the hallway.

Pansy let out a scream.

Draco was struck by a beam of white light and with a "bang," he transformed into a snow-white ferret.

The weasel panicked and circled in place, its bushy tail bristling.

"Draco!" Harry's eyes widened, and he quickly knelt down and picked up the weasel.

The weasel's two little paws gripped Harry's hand tightly, trembling slightly.

Harry cradled the ferret in his arms, looked up, and rage burned in his green eyes. "Who did this?!"

An eerie silence fell over the foyer. Moody stood in the doorway, wand in hand, realizing something was amiss.

"He tried to hurt you!" he said angrily, glaring at Harry.

"He didn't! Draco wouldn't hurt me!" Harry's eyes were icy. "Are you crazy? Change Draco back! Now!"

Hermione and Ron stood up, forming two barriers in front of Harry and Draco.

Hermione stared warily at Moody. "Professor Moody, Hogwarts forbids the use of Transfiguration to punish students! Besides, Draco didn't do anything!"

Moody's wooden prosthetic leg made a dull thud as it tapped on the floor.

He glanced at the growing number of students gathering around him, his face contorting with grimaces. "Perhaps I'm seeing things."

His demonic eyes darted around, glaring fiercely at Hermione as if trying to pierce through her and fixate on Draco. "But let me warn you, children, the Malfoys..."

The weasel clung to Harry's palm, its tail wrapped around his fingers, and let out a series of angry squeaks upon hearing those words.

Harry gently stroked the ferret's back and said coldly, "I think we know how to tell right from wrong, Professor Moody." He emphasized the last four words.

Almost everyone could feel the savior's wrath.

Moody acted as if he hadn't heard, and gave a cold snort.

"What happened?" West appeared at the entrance to the hallway, bypassing Moody who was blocking his way.

"West!" Harry exclaimed as if seeing a savior. "He turned Draco into a weasel!"

West frowned, drew his wand, and restored Draco to his original form.

Draco huddled in Harry's arms, his golden hair disheveled, his school robe collar askew, revealing a patch of pale skin at his collarbone.

He glared angrily at Moody, his voice trembling unnaturally, "I'm going to tell my dad!"

Moody sneered. "Go ahead and tell him, kid. Tell him Mad-Eye is eyeing his precious son..."

"Professor Moody, if I may be so bold, is this a threat?" West narrowed his eyes. "You don't seem to realize that using offensive magic against students is a serious violation of school rules."

"If it weren't for me, his curse would have immediately fallen on the savior." Moody stomped his wooden prosthetic leg heavily on the ground.

"I told you, Draco didn't use any spells on me!" Harry's face turned ashen, his fierce eyes fixed on Moody. "Even if he did, it's none of your business!"

Moody said nonchalantly, "Okay, I misread it, alright?"

"I think you should apologize to Draco, Professor," Hermione said.

Moody narrowed his eyes. "You want me to apologize?" He looked as if he had heard the funniest joke of the century.

"What are you doing?" came a startled cry.

Professor McGonagall hurried down the stairs, her sharp eyes scanning the entire room.

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody used a Transfiguration Charm on an innocent student. I'd like to ask you if this was appropriate?" West asked.

McGonagall yelled, looking at Moody, "Is this for real? Alastor! This is absolutely unacceptable! This is a serious violation of education laws!"

Seeing that things were about to escalate, Moody said gruffly, "Can I apologize to Malfoy? I'm sorry."

"Completely insincere, don't you think, Pansy?"

"I think so too, Brace."

Blaise and Pansy were chatting away at the Slytherin table. They already disliked the professor, and now their dislike had intensified.

"Alright, that's enough about that!" Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Professor Moody, you're coming with me to the principal's office!"

"Are you alright, Draco?" Harry asked softly, unable to resist brushing aside a strand of sweaty blond hair from Draco's forehead, feeling a little guilty.

Draco gritted his teeth, tears welling in his eyes from the shame. "I'll make that madman pay."

West stroked his wand thoughtfully.

In the instant Moody turned around, he keenly caught a scent masked by magic—African tree snake skin, and a strange medicinal smell that he often encountered in the underground classroom.