The wheelchair-bound warrior is speedrunning Hogwarts.

He began to describe the corridors of Hogwarts, the Black Lake, and the giant squid swimming outside the windows of the Slytherin common room.

His descriptions are vivid and engaging, making it easy for readers to become immersed in them.

Vera listened patiently, occasionally responding with a word or two to guide him on.

She was waiting, waiting for him to lose his patience and start probing her.

Sure enough, after a description of the castle's secret passage, Tom's handwriting paused, and then a new ink blot slowly appeared:

“And you, Miss Sail? Are you also a student at Hogwarts? What time is it now? I… have been isolated from the world for too long.”

That's a rather deliberate question.

Vera picked up her pen and wrote down the lie without hesitation: "Yes, I am a Hufflepuff student, and it is 1992."

Hufflepuff was chosen because the house is generally considered more docile, less threatening, and more easily underestimated.

“1992…” Tom paused for a longer time, as if calculating something, “Hufflepuff…a friendly school. I think you must be a kind and patient girl.”

It started so quickly.

Compliment them, then build rapport, and then get closer to them.

"Perhaps." Vera's reply was indifferent, without continuing the conversation. "Many of the secret passages you mentioned are now sealed off."

She skillfully steered the conversation back to Hogwarts itself, which was the information she most wanted to know—especially about the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin—but she couldn't ask directly.

"What a pity." Tom's handwriting conveyed just the right amount of regret.

Next, his words began to contain more frequent expressions of curiosity about her and subtle compliments, attempting to create an intimate atmosphere of sharing secrets.

Vera maintained a distant but polite demeanor, showing interest only in information about the castle itself, while remaining vague about her own situation.

She could sense that Tom on the other end of the diary was gradually becoming agitated.

Who could blame him when this Hufflepuff seemed more cautious and harder to get him to talk than he had anticipated?

More importantly, he found it extremely difficult to extract even a tiny bit of magic or life force from the Hufflepuff in front of him.

In other words, he is now communicating with her entirely through the power left behind by the Horcrux itself.

That's such a loss!

Time slipped away with the scratching of the pen tip.

Vera once again evaded his question about her, saying, "I have to go to class," and closed her diary.

She wasn't in a hurry at all; dealing with Horcruxes required patience. Vera put the diary back into the hidden compartment of her wheelchair and pushed it away from the Room of Requirement.

The wall closed silently behind her, as if it had never been opened.

After dinner, as evening approached, she appeared precisely at Professor McGonagall's office door.

She knocked gently on the door, and Professor McGonagall's stern voice came from inside: "Come in."

Vera pushed open the door and saw Professor McGonagall sitting behind her desk, grading a thick stack of papers.

"Good evening, Professor," Vera greeted softly.

Professor McGonagall looked up and pointed to a pile of parchment in the corner of the office: "Good evening, Miss Black."

Your task is to organize these documents, categorizing and filing them by year and subject; the top shelf has labels.

“Yes, Professor.” Vera pushed her wheelchair to the pile of parchment and began to work quietly.

The only sounds in the office were the rustling of quills across parchment and the occasional crackling of firewood popping in the fireplace.

Vera worked quickly; she was meticulous by nature, and sorting and organizing was not difficult for her.

About half an hour later, Professor McGonagall suddenly spoke, her voice exceptionally clear in the quiet room: "Wood has given me a detailed account of what happened at the stadium this morning."

Vera paused in her movements, without looking up.

"Mr. Malfoy's remarks were indeed extremely inappropriate and deserve to be condemned."

Professor McGonagall's tone remained calm, but upon closer listening, there seemed to be a subtle softening. "I have already spoken with Professor Snape about this matter, and he has agreed to confine Mr. Malfoy."

Vera looked at her with some surprise.

Even though she knew McGonagall might have a soft spot for her, she never expected that McGonagall would take the initiative to bring it up with Snape.

“However,” Professor McGonagall looked sharply at her, “it would be unwise to respond to a provocation with magic.”

Strength must go hand in hand with restraint, especially when you clearly possess abilities beyond your peers.

Her words seemed to have a deeper meaning, not just referring to the Transfiguration spell on the field.

Vera was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "I understand, Professor. At that time... I acted impulsively."

No matter what you think in your heart, you have to show your attitude on the surface.

Professor McGonagall stared at her for a few seconds, as if trying to read something from her calm face.

"In short, remember this lesson. Your abilities deserve to be used in more important areas, not in arguments with classmates," she earnestly advised.

“I will remember,” Vera nodded and answered solemnly.

The rest of the time passed in silence. As the clock struck nine, Vera had just put the last document away.

"Professor, I've finished organizing."

Professor McGonagall came over, inspected the spell, nodded in satisfaction, and then said, "Use the spell you cast on Mr. Malfoy today here."

Vera paused for a moment, then understood Professor McGonagall's intention.

She raised her wand, pointed to a soft mat in the corner of the office used for practice, and whispered the spell.

This time, the magic flowed more delicately and gently, rippling across the surface of the cushion and quickly becoming slippery and muddy, yet without splashing everywhere, perfectly controlled.

Professor McGonagall carefully observed her casting posture and the final effect, a barely perceptible hint of approval flashing in her eyes.

"The transformation concept is ingenious, and the control of magic is very precise... although it was used in the wrong situation."

She commented, her tone still serious, but her smile seemed to soften slightly, "You should know from now on that you can't use spells on your classmates in private anymore, right?"

Vera nodded obediently: "Yes, Professor, this lesson has left a deep impression on me."

McGonagall stared at her intently for a moment before lowering her head to continue grading papers: "Now, the confinement is over, you can go back."

“Okay, good night, Professor.” Vera nodded and pushed her wheelchair out of the office.

The corridor was quiet except for the crackling sound of torches burning on the walls.

As soon as she turned the corner, she saw two familiar figures waiting in the shadows around the corner.

"Vera!" Harry greeted her immediately upon seeing her. "We've come to pick you up!"

Hermione followed closely behind her, carefully observing Vera's expression: "Is everything going well?"

"It's nothing." Vera felt a warmth in her heart and shook her head. "I just organized some documents. Professor McGonagall was very kind to me."

She also casually revealed that Malfoy had been put in solitary confinement.

"That's good!" Harley breathed a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across her face. "At least that guy didn't get away with it!"

Hermione was relieved and went around to push her, and the three of them walked together down the corridor toward the Gryffindor Tower.

……

The next morning, they indeed saw Malfoy with a livid face.

He had dark circles under his eyes and his face was paler than usual, clearly indicating that his confinement last night was not easy.

Seeing the three of them approach, especially when their gaze fell on Vera, a venomous glint instantly flashed in their eyes.

But soon, as if he had remembered something extremely unpleasant, he abruptly turned his head, quickened his pace, and blended into the crowd, unusually refraining from making any provocative remarks.

"It seems Professor Snape's confinement is much worse than Professor McGonagall's," Hermione muttered to herself, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

"Serves you right." Harley snorted, and happily pushed Vera toward the hall.

In the following days, Hogwarts returned to its usual tranquility.

Colin Crevey still occasionally pops up, camera in hand, trying to capture Halle's every move.

Harley also began to try to express her discomfort more directly but politely, following Vera's advice.

“Mr. Crevy,” Harley called out, taking a deep breath after a potions class, as Colin was about to raise his camera again.

“I appreciate your…enthusiasm, but I’m really not used to being photographed so frequently. Could you please respect my wishes?”

Colin's hand holding the camera froze in mid-air, and the excited expression on his face was instantly replaced by disappointment; he looked like he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

"Oh...oh, okay, Harley. Sorry, I just think you're really cool..."

He muttered to himself and slowly put down the camera.

“Thank you for understanding, Colin.” Harley tried to keep her tone gentle. “Actually, there are many people or things at Hogwarts that are more worthy of being photographed than me, such as the beautiful scenery of the school in all four seasons.”

Colin's eyes brightened slightly, but he still looked a little dejected: "Okay... well, goodbye then, Harley."

He walked away dejectedly, camera in hand.

Harley watched his retreating figure, feeling a little guilty but also relieved.

She turned to Vera and Hermione, who had been waiting quietly beside her, and shrugged: "I already said it."

“Well done, Halle,” Vera said softly. “You don’t need to take responsibility for his disappointment; it’s also important to protect your own feelings.”

Hermione nodded: "That's right, you refused very politely, he'll get used to it eventually."

Although Colin still occasionally appears afterward, he does so much less frequently, mostly watching from afar with longing eyes.

This made Harley feel much more at ease.

After observing Lockhart for two weeks, Hermione gained a deeper understanding of her former idol.

Lockhart's behavior in class was becoming more and more of a joke.

He was keen to have students act out scenes from his books, but avoided talking about any actual defensive spells.

After a particularly chaotic "dancing with werewolves" role-playing session, Hermione finally gave up on her last shred of hope.

“He doesn’t know anything at all,” she said dejectedly to Vera and Halle, stuffing all of Lockhart’s books into the bottom of her bag. “Those stories… must have been stolen.”

Vera watched her silently from the side without saying a word.

But Hermione's hand was already under the table, gripping her tightly.

She understands the need to seek comfort from close friends after one's illusions are shattered.

Besides attending classes, Vera continues her secret communication with her diary.

She was extremely patient, speaking only for short periods each time, and deftly brushed aside all of Tom Riddle's attempts to pry into her personal information.

She could sense that Tom, on the other end of the diary, was gradually losing his initial composure and becoming somewhat anxious.

He craved power, information, and a host he could attach himself to and control, but "Miss Sail" was like a slippery fish, leaving him clueless about how to get to her.

That night, Vera entered the Room of Requirement again.

She had just taken out her diary and typed a greeting when she noticed that Tom seemed unusually eager today.

“Miss Sail, you mentioned last time that you were interested in the legend of the castle’s secret chamber?” His handwriting seemed more messy than usual. “I know a legend; perhaps we can explore it together?”

The fish are finally going to take the bait.

Vera's heart skipped a beat, but her pen remained steady: "Oh? Where?"

“Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, have you heard of it?” Tom’s handwriting slowly appeared. “It is said that only the true heir of Slytherin, someone who knows Parsley, can open it.”

Chamber of Secrets.

Did you finally give in?

She curled her lips into a smile and wrote, "Parsleyan? That's a real shame, I don't know it. It seems I'm destined to never know this secret."

As she spoke, she was about to close her diary.

"Wait a minute!" Tom's urgent handwriting reappeared.

Chapter Nine: Vera is Sick (Bounty 6.5k)

Tom was very impatient, and he couldn't help but be impatient.

Fifty years have passed since the secret chamber was last opened, and more than forty years have passed since he was created.

Over the decades, the outside world has undergone tremendous changes, and he has no idea what his own physical condition is now.