A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 152 The Ambitious Harry

"So, you were... controlled by that crown a while ago?"

In a private room at the university hospital, Harry stared wide-eyed in horror at Neville, who sat listlessly on the bed, and said somewhat flusteredly.

The Quidditch match was yesterday. This morning, after learning that Neville had somehow ended up in the school hospital, Harry came to visit him out of concern, only to hear some terrible news.

Owen, curious about Neville's condition, also came over to take a look. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking quite interested.

Neville nodded dejectedly: "I remember it was not long after the start of the semester, one day Ron showed me a tattered crown and told me it had a kind of magic that could improve my memory..."

"So you put it on?" Harry opened his mouth, then quickly asked, "And then?"

"For a while afterward, I completely forgot about it." This wasn't the first time Neville had been asked about it, and he spoke fluently now. "I just feel like my memory has gotten worse, and sometimes it's like I'm blacking out."

"After Ron's accident, I started losing my senses." He gritted his teeth, a look of fear on his face. "The blackouts were getting longer and longer, and I was in a daze every day. Sometimes I would be a little more lucid, aware of what I was doing, but it was like someone else was controlling my body... I couldn't do anything, not even call for help..."

“I vaguely remember some things.” Neville lowered his head guiltily, looking like he was about to cry. “I kept telling Ron what I heard in the study group, and he was being controlled too. And it was me…” His voice became strained: “That day, Hermione saw Ron give me that tiara—she seemed to have been secretly following me—and then I discovered her…”

Harry fell silent; he knew, of course, what had happened next. Hermione ran to tell them, but before she could speak, she was petrified, and Ron fell unconscious.

"It's not your fault, Neville," he said softly, patting Neville on the shoulder.

Neville wiped his face, shook his head, and continued, "Later I hid that crown in the first greenhouse. I also gave them to other people, some Hufflepuff friends I met there... I ruined them."

"Are they alright?"

"Dumbledore said it wasn't a big problem, thankfully it was discovered early, otherwise..." Neville said with lingering fear, "Yesterday, while I was watching the game, I suddenly became lucid for some reason. I ran to tell Professor McGonagall about it, and Professor McGonagall took me to see Mr. Dumbledore."

"Then I took the principal and the dean to the greenhouse to look for the crown, but..." His expression became puzzled and complicated, "We were too late. Someone had set fire to the greenhouse, and many plants were burned to ashes. The principal said it was a terrible black magic flame. The crown was gone; we only found many snake corpses there. Perhaps someone beat us to it."

A dark wizard has infiltrated Hogwarts? Harry inexplicably thought of the Aetherial Society. They disappeared after stealing the Philosopher's Stone last term, but Harry hadn't forgotten that these people were watching him.

"That crown... was burned to ashes?" He put that question aside for the moment and asked with some anticipation.

Neville shook his head: "Mr. Dumbledore didn't find any remains of the crown there. He said things are far from over."

"Oh, I see." Harry sighed in disappointment, then rallied his spirits and said, "Alright, don't overthink it. How are you?"

"I'm fine, the headmaster examined me. It's just that Professor McGonagall thinks I need to be hospitalized for observation for a while," Neville said, then murmured guiltily, "I'm so sorry to Professor Sprout… when she arrived at the First Greenhouse, her heart was broken…"

Irving, who had been listening attentively, turned his head without changing his expression and looked up to carefully examine the decorations on the ceiling.

……

Professor Sprout was indeed in a bad mood, and the most noticeable change for everyone was that the amount of homework for Herbalism class had increased several times over.

People's joys and sorrows are not shared, but professors can manually make students deeply feel their own sadness.

Irving stuffed his completed herbalism class assignment into his bag and then leisurely strolled back to his dorm room.

The soft silver light in the dormitory illuminated the deep green lake outside the window. The aquatic plants at the bottom of the lake swayed gently, and you could vaguely see a small green monster with pointed horns using its slender fingers to catch small fish among the plants.

Irving sat gracefully at the round table, brewing himself a cup of fine Ceylon tea. The rich aroma of the tea filled the air, instantly relaxing him.

Unfortunately, there were always some annoying guys who unwittingly ruined this relaxed and leisurely atmosphere. Harry was pacing back and forth anxiously, trying in vain to smooth his messy hair with his hands, checking the time now and sighing now and then.

"Ugh, why did I tell Draco I wanted to see his father? He actually made a special trip over here..." Harry looked at Owen's lazy and relaxed demeanor, and inexplicably felt a surge of anger. "I don't know what to say to him..."

He was feeling conflicted and anxious. He had accidentally discovered that his best friend's powerful and influential father, who was also a school board member, was doing bad things. While struggling with how to face him or even whether to report him, he suddenly impulsively suggested meeting him to talk things over, and the other person actually came all the way there...

Good heavens, he's only a twelve-year-old child! Why is he meddling in the adult world? What if he gets murdered to silence him?

For some reason, terrifying scenes of murder, body disposal, and destruction of evidence inexplicably surfaced in his mind, and he couldn't help but shudder.

"Why do you want to see Mr. Malfoy?" Owen glanced at him with amusement.

"I must have been out of my mind..." Harry sat on the other side of the round table, his hands covering his head. "Well, I just wanted to end this as quickly as possible. I've already checked, and neither Ginny nor Neville knows about the diary... although I still can't tell whether what happened at school was caused by the Crown or the diary."

"And what is your attitude towards Mr. Malfoy?" Owen picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and squinted his eyes languidly like a cat. Melett curiously leaned forward and licked the tea, sticking out his tongue like a puppy from the heat.

"...I want to persuade him to stop. I don't want anyone else to get hurt," Harry said after a moment of silence.

He hadn't told Dumbledore about it yet, and didn't want things to really get to the point of no return. Although he deeply abhorred what Mr. Malfoy had done, he was, after all, Draco's father. Ten unpleasant years in the Muggle world had made him yearn for and long for family and friendship. He didn't want to lose Draco as a friend, nor did he want Draco's family to be destroyed.

"You're such a good person, Harry," Owen said sincerely, having more or less understood what the other was thinking.

"It's also quite simple," he added with a smile. "In fact, even if you reported Mr. Malfoy to Dumbledore, he wouldn't be punished at all."

Meeting Harry's surprised and disbelieving gaze, Owen sipped his tea and said leisurely, "Everything you know comes from Dobby, but in reality, a house-elf's testimony is rarely accepted in these matters, especially since he's a Malfoy house-elf. In other words, you have no evidence to prove what Mr. Malfoy did, and even if you did find evidence, the Malfoy family's power could easily smooth things over..."

Harry was stunned for a moment before asking, "Then why did Mr. Malfoy agree to see me?" According to Owen, the other party should be confident and have no need to come to see him, an ordinary student who posed no threat.

"Oh, who knows what he's thinking?" Owen's lips curled up slightly. He simply wanted to win over and invest in Harry Potter before he matured. This was a good opportunity to test Harry's attitude, see what kind of person he was, and then repair and strengthen their relationship.

"So, he won't listen to my advice at all..." Harry groaned, even less inclined to continue the meeting. He glanced at the time again; it was almost time for their appointment.

Owen paused, then suddenly slammed the teacup he was holding to his lips down on the table. His eyes gleamed as he looked Harry up and down, as if examining a precious gem, a playful smile playing on his lips, revealing a beautiful and mysterious expression.

"I can teach you how to deal with people like Mr. Malfoy," he said in a pleasant voice. "My father was a similar man, so I know very well what kind of attitude will make them take you more seriously..."

"Is...is that so?" Harry stammered. He looked at Owen expectantly yet warily, instinctively feeling that the guy was having a mischievous fit and wanted to trick him; the wolfish gaze he had just received made him feel uneasy.

"Don't you want to hear it?" Owen raised his eyebrows, his expression turning cold.

"Of course not!" Harry blurted out. His expression fell, and he gave up trying to figure things couldn't get any worse.

Owen's eyes held a barely perceptible smile as he said seriously, "People like Mr. Malfoy, with their power and experience, are unlikely to take an immature young wizard seriously, and naturally, they won't care about your opinion. Therefore, you must first appear mature and composed, and absolutely not show the slightest bit of helplessness or apprehension. You must appear confident and dignified, so that he won't look down on you, and this is the prerequisite for everything."

"But what should I do?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Like me, you must be confident and composed no matter what, and it's best to have a polite smile on your face... No, your smile is too bright, tone it down a bit, think about the look on your face when you saw Draco shamelessly boasting..." Owen nodded with barely satisfied as he watched Harry force an awkward but polite smile.

"Try to keep this expression. Stand tall and straight, don't let your eyes wander, look directly into the other person's eyes when you speak, and look confident... If you can't do it, you can try to look at the other person like Professor Snape, staring at them expressionlessly, but that's not polite or friendly enough."

Seeing that Harry had finally managed to adjust his expression and posture to look quite professional, Owen smiled quickly and nodded, saying, "Next, you must act confidently, imagine that you have enough evidence to send Mr. Malfoy to Azkaban, and you must not show any weakness..."

"But didn't you say I didn't have any evidence at all?" Harry said pitifully.

"But you have to project that image, otherwise Mr. Malfoy won't take your advice seriously at all," Owen said seriously. "Of course, you don't need to say it aloud, otherwise that would be a threat. You just need to remain silent at the appropriate time and give a meaningful smile, that's enough."

Although Harry found it somewhat unreliable, he nodded seriously and kept Owen's words in mind.

"Finally, someone like Mr. Malfoy is always adept at quickly discerning your true intentions from your every word and action." Owen crossed his arms, narrowed his sharp eyes, and only smiled slightly after Harry began to fidget. "So, you should talk less and listen more. The less you reveal, the harder it will be for him to see through you."

"Keep your speech brief, slow down, and use more rhetorical questions. When you encounter a topic you don't understand or can't answer, remain silent, chuckle softly, or respond with a concise interjection. And remember—always be confident!" Irving said with a smile. "Learn to speak like me…equality is the prerequisite for mutual respect, isn't it?"

"Of course," Harry said with a light laugh, his emerald green eyes fixed intently on Owen's.

"That's right, exactly." Owen clapped his hands with a smile. "You learn very quickly, Harry."

Harry's confident expression instantly crumbled. He shifted uncomfortably and asked with a doubtful look, "Will this really work?"

"Don't you believe me?" Owen asked, looking hurt.

"No!" Harry quickly shook his head.

"Then why don't you practice more?" Owen's expression instantly became as meticulous as Professor McGonagall's.

Harry quickly straightened his posture, a faint smile appearing on his face. He looked at Owen with deep eyes, then stood up and took a couple of slow, confident steps, his demeanor surprisingly exuding an air of composed elegance. Hmm, just imitating Owen's usual mannerisms—not difficult!

Melett lay on the table, wagging her tail, tilting her cute little head and staring intently at Harry with her golden eyes, as if looking at a fool who had been tricked.

"Meow~" she meowed softly at Owen. This little fool is so funny, he's completely fooled.

Irving suppressed a laugh, picked up the cat, rubbed it, and leisurely picked up his teacup to take a sip of the fragrant tea.

……

At the castle gates, Draco saw his father approaching from afar. His eyes lit up, and he raised his arm and waved.

"Dad, what brings you here to see Harry?" He looked at Mr. Malfoy suspiciously. "I thought you wouldn't agree to see him... You wouldn't even tell me about the diary." His expression showed some dissatisfaction when he mentioned the diary.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, dressed in a long black robe with long, pale blond hair flowing down his back, had an inscrutable expression. He toyed with his serpentine cane and calmly asked, "What kind of person do you think Harry Potter is, Draco?"

"Him?" Draco thought for a moment, glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye, and raised his pointed chin, saying, "He's just so-so. He hasn't shown any particularly strong talents, nor does he have any ambition. He's always acting like a child, making a lot of noise, likes adventure, and is always unlucky. He's not as mature and reliable as me at all... But he's passable." As he said this, he raised his chin even higher.

"You said he has the ability to injure those who are hostile to him, which means he does possess some powerful talent that hasn't been fully revealed yet." Lucius gripped his cane tighter, his eyes growing more profound. "He speaks Parsley, and... he's being groomed by Dumbledore as his successor. Based on that alone, he's not to be underestimated and deserves our goodwill."

"But Harry always had a different opinion of those Muggles, Dad," Draco said, pouting.

"If he's truly worth investing in, abandoning the pure-blood theory isn't out of the question," Lucius frowned. Although he was a staunch supporter of pure-blood theory, his bottom line was quite flexible. As long as there were greater benefits, he didn't mind setting aside the pure-blood theory, even if it made him uncomfortable. The long-established Malfoy family has never lacked this kind of shrewdness and diplomacy.

Draco stared wide-eyed, unable to believe that his father would say such outrageous things. If he were the one saying such things, he would definitely get a spanking at home.

"You've spent so much time with Harry Potter, and you still haven't managed to change his mind?" Lucius's grey eyes were calm and composed.

"Harry's temper is as stubborn as a bull, so he's more likely to listen to Owen..." Draco muttered.

"Owen? The Shafik family's son?" Lucius composed himself, looking at his son with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Had the Shafik family gotten there first? Starting from the same point, his son had fallen behind.

Draco, oblivious to the situation, gave a dismissive "humph" in response, then rolled his eyes and asked, "Dad, what are you planning to do with Dobby?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes coldly. What was the point of keeping such a disloyal and unruly house-elf? Then, as if remembering something, he slowly said, "You said that Harry Potter cared a lot about that house-elf?"

"Yeah, after all, Dobby saved us once," Draco said slowly.

"...I understand," Lucius said thoughtfully. "Alright, I should go see Harry Potter now."

The father and son arrived outside an empty classroom. Lucius told Draco to wait outside, then went in alone and saw Harry waiting inside. The young wizard's innocent face wore a confident yet polite smile. He was composed, neither arrogant nor humble, calm and collected, showing no sign of helplessness or restraint, unlike a wizard of his age.

Lucius took it much more seriously, and he smiled and nodded, showing a friendly attitude.

"Mr. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you." Harry stared intently into the man's eyes, trying hard not to show any fear, and calmly extended his right hand.

The two shook hands, their eyes met, and a brief silence fell. Harry's mind was in turmoil, and for a moment he couldn't think of anything to say, so he could only maintain a stiff smile as he looked at the other person.

Lucius silently observed Harry's expression, but couldn't discern his attitude from the boy's face, which only made him more suspicious. So young and yet so composed—was this the "ordinary child" Draco had mentioned? He glanced at Draco peeking in from outside the door and tightened his grip on his cane.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry to have troubled you to come all this way. I'd like to talk to you about... that diary." Harry finally remembered what he wanted to say. Following Owen's advice, he slowed his speech, trying to hide his unease and appear more confident.

After saying that, he didn't know what to say next, so he stared intently at Mr. Malfoy, a faint smile on his face, but his hands were subtly clenched into fists. Mr. Malfoy's aura always gave people a sense of inexplicable pressure. Although Harry wasn't afraid, he couldn't help feeling a little nervous about trying to have an equal conversation and negotiation with him.

"Ah, of course, I think so too." Lucius looked at Harry and said in a smooth tone, "I feel very sorry and frightened that something like this happened at school, even putting you and Draco in danger. Actually, I've been trying to find that diary to end this attack, but to no avail."

Harry stared at him intently and said softly, "Oh?"

“In fact, I searched for it once after visiting Draco the day after the attack,” Lucius said in a low voice. “But things didn’t go as I expected. The diary wasn’t in the hands of the Weasley children. I think it might have fallen into someone else’s hands, but I’ve completely lost track of it.”

Harry's mood grew heavy. He nodded absently, his expression remaining calm and composed, which made Lucius look at him with even greater respect.

"I suppose you know something about that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked with a smile, looking into the man's eyes, his hands behind his back, his fingertips digging into his palms.

"I don't know much more than you do," Lucius said slowly, turning to look at the deep green meadow outside the window. "That's undoubtedly a magical artifact that can open a secret chamber, something the previous heir made himself. But how exactly it works, I don't know."

Harry felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment. He had hoped to find a breakthrough with Mr. Malfoy, but it turned out the latter was also helpless. Fortunately, Mr. Malfoy showed a willingness to end the attack, which relieved him. Thank goodness…

He didn't know what to say, so he just stood there awkwardly, smiling and looking into Mr. Malfoy's eyes.

Is he doubting me? This kid is indeed not simple. Lucius paused for a moment before saying, "You don't need to doubt what I'm saying. I can't continue to put Draco in danger. He has already offended that... thing. Even if it's just for my son, I will do my best to find that diary."

"Of course I believe you, Mr. Malfoy," Harry nodded with a smile. Should he have been a little suspicious? Sure enough, Mr. Malfoy always overthinks things…

"Sir, I think none of us want this to happen at Hogwarts again, right?" he said, choosing his words carefully. He really wanted to just say, "Please don't throw any more dangerous or messy things at Hogwarts."

“Of course, Mr. Potter.” Lucius nodded in agreement, then changed the subject, “I’d like to know, what do you think of Muggle-born wizards?”

Harry paused, unsure how the conversation had veered this way. Was this question really that important? He was utterly bewildered, but calmly looked the other man in the eye and slowly said, "Are they any different from us, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius remained silent for a moment, waiting for what was to come.

Harry racked his brains, then remembered what Owen had told him about the pure-blood theory, and recited it verbatim: "As far as I know, there are no true pure-bloods in the wizarding world anymore, right? Every family has a history of intermarriage with Muggles. The reason the pure-blood theory is popular in modern times is simply because wizards are dissatisfied with the Secrecy Act and some families can't let go of their past glory..."

"And what is your attitude towards Muggles?" Lucius's gaze deepened.

"Muggles? They certainly have their place in the world." Harry was taken aback by the question and, unsure of what to say, simply chuckled and said briefly before giving Mr. Malfoy a meaningful look.

Lucius couldn't help but take a deep breath. This little wizard actually had such profound insights into pure-blood theory, and even... had ambitions to break the Secrecy Act and enslave Muggles? He couldn't help but tighten his grip on his wand, seeing a rising star about to emerge in the future.

He was the boy who survived a near-death experience, the one who defeated the Dark Lord; such prestige naturally garnered him a large following of admirers and supporters. His direct challenge to the much-criticized Wizarding Secrets Act, his call for the liberation of the wizarding world, was bound to resonate widely. He established study groups at school, gathering a group of influential students from pure-blood families—his future core group…

Is this what Draco meant by having no ambition? Lucius gripped his cane tighter, feeling an itch to use it.

"If you wish, Draco will be your ally," he said with an extremely serious and earnest expression. This was an ambition he was more than willing to support; his dissatisfaction with the Secret Law and Muggles ran too deep, and the young wizard before him was simply too outstanding.

Harry Potter possessed both cunning and resourcefulness, successfully cultivating relationships with influential pure-blood classmates in his first year, including Shafiq, Greengrass, Parkinson, Longbottom, and even Malfoy. Even the relatively unknown Zabini family wielded considerable influence in the business world. He enjoyed an excellent reputation at Hogwarts, boasting the fame of the boy who survived a great calamity, and benefiting from Dumbledore's dedicated mentorship and support…

Such a person, if they don't die young, is bound to rise to prominence and lead the wizarding world in the future. Lucius, recognizing this, decided to place his bet early. The earlier he invested, the greater the returns he would reap in the future.

Harry listened to the other man's words with a puzzled expression, completely unable to understand what he was talking about. What could Draco possibly help him with? He'd be lucky if that guy didn't cause trouble, right? He simply smiled and nodded, calmly saying, "It's my pleasure."

With time running out, Harry pleaded for Dobby before saying goodbye to Mr. Malfoy.

"Don't worry, you'll be satisfied with how I handled it," Lucius said.

The two nodded goodbye, and Harry smiled as he watched Mr. Malfoy leave, then plopped down in a chair and let out a long sigh of relief.

Lucius stared sharply at his foolish son, frowning as he glanced thoughtfully at his cane, pondering that he should help Draco grow up faster.

(End of this chapter)