Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

After leaving Snape's office, Victor was not affected by the prophecy he had just heard and remained relaxed—the opposite of the other two people who were closely connected with the prophecy.

After all, it wasn't him who was going to be finished.

However, the biggest difference between him and Snape was that he didn't know who the high-pitched voice was.

Although he could guess from Snape and Draco's reactions that it was probably the legendary Dark Lord, or something like Pureblood Glory, he didn't know much else.

Victor's thought was actually: Oh, that Dark Lord isn't dead yet... What's the big deal?

Their fairytale world is far more perilous than this. You can find demons imprisoned for thousands of years in the river; every time you uncork a bottle, it's like a lottery, with the prize being a life-threatening event. There are also fairies, wizards, talking dragons that steal princesses—there are dozens whose achievements rival Voldemort's.

Even if ordinary people from their world came, their attitude would probably be:

"Another Dark Lord? Are you sure it's not the Demon King? Oh, that's good. Then I'll go back and slowly move. I heard the neighboring kingdom has a wizard's protection, so it's definitely safe."

It's that simple.

So he didn't even pay much attention to it. He figured he could think about it later when the Dark Lord actually appeared.

"What are you thinking about?"

A voice suddenly came from behind Victor, sounding hazy and distant, yet filled with barely suppressed schadenfreude.

Victor turned his head and saw a strange-looking ghost—it looked like a dwarf, with a pair of evil eyes, a big mouth, and its whole body was floating in the air, staring at Victor with a wicked smile and gesturing wildly.

Victor looked at it for a while, somewhat surprised:

"I didn't know there were dwarves in the magical world. Where did you live before you died?"

"?"

The short ghost stood there for a moment, then an angry expression appeared on its face:

"It's Peeves! Not a dwarf! Peeves was born at Hogwarts; he's the ghost who governs mischief!"

Victor stared at it for a while, then gave a listless "Oh".

"It's boring."

He said regretfully.

If dwarves really existed, his life in the magical world would be truly perfect—because all dwarves are addicted to alcohol, and if you bring some alcohol and drink with them for one night, they'll even sign you a contract to work for them for five hundred years.

Not to mention, dwarves are a treasure trove from head to toe. Their bushy beards, cultivated over decades, are the best fertilizer for herbs, and they possess magical properties. Aside from their livers, which are mostly unusable, every part of them is useful…

Upon hearing that Peeves wasn't a dwarf, Victor immediately lost interest.

But this was the biggest provocation for Peeves. It circled around and suddenly appeared in front of Victor, its small black eyes fixed on him.

"Peeves, hiding outside, overheard you all whispering prophecies—ah! The resurgence of fear! Ah! The shadow of the future!"

It finished speaking in a peculiar aria, accompanied by exaggerated gestures, before turning back to Victor and chuckling slyly twice:

"You scared that Slytherin kid."

"He's scared. He won't do it. He's going to change—the silly kid needs to behave, and you'll make things much less fun for Mischief."

Victor frowned in confusion: "You mean, Malfoy will be so scared of me that he won't even bother with anyone else? That can't be right."

The mischievous imp paused in its hovering motion in the air, and said mysteriously:

You wouldn't understand.

You don't understand people's hearts.

It circled in the air and then chuckled twice.

Victor ignored it, and wasn't even angry; he simply waved his hand.

"Then you can leave. We have nothing more to say."

"Leave? No way, I'm going to play a trick on you, Old Bat Number Two," Peeves laughed again. "You don't know, do you? That big idiot Barrow has been very busy lately. He's running around to the east side of the castle one minute and the west side the next, keeping an eye on someone. He doesn't have time to bother with me."

"So Barrow is dead—now the castle belongs to Peeves!"

"Hehehehe..."

"But if you're willing to obediently submit, I can reluctantly appoint you Minister Peeves and then take you to cause trouble for old Magus... considering we're all equals," Peeves said smugly.

Victor paused in his steps.

"Are we all the same?"

Mischievous Ghost remained grinning, floating in the air, and even twitched his finger to make the candles beside him float as well, answering nonchalantly:

Yes. You, me, we are all the same.

"Oh dear, you haven't told anyone yet? Is this a big secret? Oh—I'll have to think carefully about how to announce it. Those undergrad kids will definitely love to know!"

It rolled excitedly in the air.

But Victor, who was below, suddenly took out a gold coin from his pocket and handed it to him.

"Then let me bribe you," he said with a smile, "but don't tell anyone."

"Um?"

Mischievous Ghost turned to look at the gold coin: "You think you can bribe the great Mischievous Ghost with just an ordinary gold coin?"

"Oh dear, oh dear—"

"Let me see what kind of tricks you're up to!"

It drew out its voice and impatiently reached out to take the gold coin from Victor's hand—but the instant its ghostly hand touched the coin, an irresistible and enormous suction force came from the coin and instantly sucked Peeves in!

Pipi tried to resist, but it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot; he fell into the gold coins in vain.

"Ahhhhh!"

"Smack."

"Ding-ling-ling..."

The gold coin tumbled down from mid-air, spun around on the ground for a while, and then stopped.

Only the empty corridor remained, along with Victor's solitary figure.

A few seconds later, Victor bent down and picked up the gold coin.

"You? Just like me?"

He shook his head and glanced disdainfully at the cursed gold coin containing Peeves.

To deal with Peeves, simply set up a ghost-capturing spell in an empty classroom, lock the door, and tell Peeves never to open the door to that room...

It will walk right into the trap within half an hour.

Victor glanced at the coin one last time before stuffing it into his pocket, then walked away thinking:

Hmm, let's put it in a bottle to keep that guy who has a grudge against King Solomon company. After all these years, he must be interested in everything. It'll be a good opportunity to teach this ghost a lesson...

"Thump, thump."

His footsteps faded into the empty corridor, as if there had always been only one person there.

……

Meanwhile, Malfoy walked out of the Potions classroom in a daze. He covered his forehead with one hand, and his pupils looked strangely unfocused.

As they walked out, a faint "ding-ling" sound came from afar, but neither of them paid any attention to it.

"I feel a little dizzy, Dean."

Draco Malfoy, somewhat absent-minded, rubbed the wall beside him and painfully rubbed his forehead, feeling that everything he saw was blurry.

"That's normal, it'll be fine in a bit," Snape said coldly. "Because you're allergic to potions. It's probably because of the Frog caterpillars in it. Don't come into contact with live caterpillars again."

"I have something to attend to, I'll go see the principal first, you can go back to the lounge by yourself."

After saying that, Snape didn't even stop to look at him for a moment before striding away, leaving Malfoy rubbing his temples for a long time.

What...what was he doing inside just now?

Oh. It seems like they're looking for trouble with Potter. Because Potter can join the Quidditch team, but he can't, even though he's the pure-blooded nobleman…

Thinking of the last few words, Malfoy shuddered for no reason, suddenly losing all his usual enthusiasm for purebloods. He even lost interest in causing trouble for Harry.