At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

The bright light pierced the eyes of the already sensitive and agitated young dragon.

Draco envisioned many scenarios: Potter panicking and knocking over his teacup, Weasley falling to the ground in fright, or even the know-it-all Granger looking dumbfounded.

That moment must have been his coronation as the victor, his perfect confession to Dean Snape.

But he hadn't anticipated the monster's reaction.

The moment it was directly hit by the bright light, the Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon let out a sharp hiss.

Its instincts overwhelmed its reason, if this newborn beast had even the slightest bit of reason.

It raised its head, arched its back, and spewed a ball of orange-red fire from its sulfurous throat.

The fireball struck squarely into the open brandy barrel beside the fireplace. It was the strong liquor Hagrid used to soak rats to feed the dragons.

boom--!

The destruction that had previously existed only in Draco's malevolent illusions became tangible at this moment.

The burst of flames instantly engulfed Hagrid's large, hairy face, and blue flames of alcohol spread rapidly along the old sawdust on the floor, the animal skin coat hanging on the wall, and the mountain of dry grass.

Draco instinctively took a step back, and his hand, which had been maintaining the glowing light, trembled, causing the light at the tip of his wand to go out.

But his light is no longer needed.

The red light illuminated half the night sky, and the small wooden house transformed into a giant torch.

"No... damn it, no!"

Draco staggered backward, his expensive dragon-skin boots sinking into the mud, nearly causing him to slip and fall. He heard screams coming from inside.

Perhaps it was Granger's, perhaps Weasley's; the heart-wrenching coughs and the sound of heavy objects pounding against the door echoed through the burning wooden wall, sounding dull and desperate.

In that instant, the Malfoy family's proud strategy of careful planning and decisive action crumbled.

run.

A shrill voice roared in his mind. Run before anyone sees! This isn't your fault! They're illegally raising dragons! It was their own carelessness! You just glanced at them!

His heel did indeed turn, taking his first step toward the shadowy castle in his escape.

If he simply returned to Slytherin Citadel and pretended to be asleep in bed, he might wake up the next morning to find Potter already a regrettable obituary in the newspaper.

That way, no one will steal his thunder, and no one will make his father, who is always so disappointed in him, frown.

This is what he wanted, isn't it?

But he just couldn't bring himself to take a step.

Draco turned and looked at the small house engulfed in flames. He saw several figures reflected in the window, desperately pounding on the wooden door, which seemed to be held shut by the pressure of the heatwave.

If we don't do something, they really will die.

Harry Potter will die. Not at Voldemort's hands, but like a roasted chicken in a dilapidated hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

And that Mudblood...though she's repulsive, though she always smugly flaunts her damn grades...

A tremendous fear gripped Draco's heart. He had never wanted that... he just wanted them fired, wanted to see them suffer, wanted to humiliate them by trampling their faces in the mud.

Murder? No, Malfoy doesn't kill people himself, much less in such a... such a dirty, crude, and utterly unaesthetic way.

"Damn it! Damn Potter!"

Draco gritted his teeth. He raised his wand trembling in the shadows, only to realize at that moment that he couldn't even recall a decent fire-extinguishing spell.

Clear spring water? No, he can't yet.

Use the Levitation Charm to blast open the door? What if you accidentally block the door completely?

Just as he was struggling and he was on the verge of collapse, a commotion came from the direction of the castle.

"Oh my god! Fire!"

"That's Hagrid's cabin!"

One by one, the windows of the castle's upper floors lit up, and the giant in the darkness opened countless eyes. The distant bells began to toll, and Filch's hoarse shouts carried on the wind.

In the common room of Gryffindor Tower, anger had already reached its peak due to the several curse exchanges with Slytherins in the corridors over the past few weeks.

When the enormous explosion made the frame of the Fat Lady's painting scream, the twins Fred and George rushed to the window. They initially thought it was another attack by some Slytherin scoundrel, until the bleak orange-red flames shone on their faces.

"Merlin's beard...that's Hagrid!" Fred's voice went off-key.

The windows of Gryffindor were crowded with heads. Fear quickly fermented in the blood of these young lions, transforming into a blind rage that had accumulated over the past few weeks.

"They did it! It must be those vipers!" Lee Jordan gripped the window frame. "Nobody hates Hagrid this much except Slytherin! They wanted to burn him!"

No evidence was needed, no logic required. On this night of intense conflict between the two houses, the flames in the eyes of the Gryffindors were the smoke signals of war. Some upperclassmen had even begun to hastily put on robes, wands in hand, filled with the urge to turn the cellars upside down.

On the other side of the castle, the atmosphere in the Slytherin common room was quite different.

Because they were at the bottom of the lake, they couldn't see the fire directly, but when a few well-informed upperclassmen brought back news from the corridor window near the prefectural bathroom that the game keeper's hut had burned to ashes.

Pansy Parkinson was sitting on the sofa trimming her nails when she heard the news. She didn't even stop what she was doing; she just gave a sarcastic smile.

"Isn't that what you call natural selection?" A suppressed chuckle erupted around them. "That brainless idiot finally got himself killed by his own stupidity. I told you, having a half-giant without even a wand living on campus was a disgrace to Hogwarts."

"Now it's clean." Blaise Zabini casually turned a page of his book. "Hopefully it burned thoroughly, so the stench doesn't drift into the cellar."

No one was worried about casualties, and no one wanted to put out the fire. In the eyes of the Slytherins, this potentially deadly fire was merely a topic of conversation, a divine punishment for their lowly faction.

Two windows, two colors.

Everyone in this castle is rushing to take sides, and everyone is building high walls with prejudice.

Draco Malfoy, the "pureblood" who should have been leading the mockery of Hagrid in the Slytherin common room, stood alone in the mud, stuck between these two mad worlds.

It's too late.

The whole school knows.

Draco dejectedly put down his wand.

He watched the room engulfed in flames, watched Hagrid's massive body protecting the damned dragon egg even as it burned, watched the shattered windowpanes raining down from the intense heat.

He neither ran away nor went forward to help.

He simply stood there, at the boundary between light and darkness, watching this disaster that he had ignited with his own hands, yet which had completely spiraled out of control.

In that instant, Draco Malfoy sadly realized that he was neither bad enough to coldly turn away, nor good enough to stand up for him.

He was just a spoiled child who had caused a huge disaster and was completely helpless at this moment.

The magic wand in his hand now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

"What...did I do?" he muttered to himself, his voice completely drowned out by the loud cracking of the wood.

"The spring water is as clear as water!"

Draco, as if granted a pardon, looked at the spellcaster.

It's Lucian.

However, Lucian paid no attention to Draco.

At this moment, in his perception,

A surge of magical energy is approaching.

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts, Head of Wizengamor, President of the International Magical Union, Archmage First Class of the Order of Merlin, Leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Rightful Holder of the Elder Wand, and the most powerful white wizard in the wizarding world.

A wizard's robe adorned with stars is cutting through the night.