Basil did not rashly attempt to test this theory. There were people all around; if he lost control and went on a killing spree, he risked being surrounded by them.
Run will have no choice but to settle in another world.
Moreover, he had some doubts about why Narcissa had submitted so quickly.
The Chamber of Secrets at the Malfoy Manor, ten minutes ago.
After readily expressing her submission, Narcissa cautiously asked, "Who are you?"
In her eyes, the Dark Lord would never have a master.
But judging from the speed with which he broke through the protective magic passed down through generations of the Malfoy family, and from this little-known face...
Even if he isn't Voldemort, he must be connected to Voldemort, and they, as orphans and widows, shouldn't offend him.
The owner of this person in front of us can know everything in the Headmaster's Office without alerting Dumbledore.
Even the Dark Lord couldn't do it.
Being lustful is not a big problem.
On the contrary, this is a good thing.
She was afraid that she would have no use to anyone.
Although her original surname was Black, she is now a qualified Malfoy.
For Malfoy, temporary honor or disgrace is of no importance; what matters is the gain or loss of benefits.
If she climbs into that man's bed, wouldn't she be of a higher status than this 'Dark Lord' in front of her?
While Narcissa was figuring things out on her own, Riddle was pacing around in circles in the Chamber of Secrets.
"Me?" He walked to the bookshelf, his long fingers tracing the spines of the books. "You might recognize me. I used to be right here."
"They arrived here even before the dead Lucius."
"Abu held me in his arms and adorned me beautifully."
"The silver box and the green silk have been my whole world for decades."
"No one pays attention, touch."
"I can only keep circling back my past memories, examining my short life."
"Until the disappearance of the familiar magnetic field startled me awake."
"I came into the arms of someone with a magnetic field that was both strange and familiar."
"He was cunning yet foolish, vicious yet naive, ignorant yet self-proclaimed learned and noble."
"Just when I thought I was destined to be with this vulgar soul forever, the opportunity finally came."
"He sent himself to the guillotine, and he sent me home."
"The only place I consider home."
"There I met my master. I confronted the Dark Lord you speak of, and in the Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, I transformed and became independent."
"It deceived everyone and truly descended upon this world."
"Who do you think I am?"
"Mrs. Malfoy?"
"Him?" Narcissa's lips trembled, her face turning deathly pale. "No, Master is at Hogwarts!"
"Master." Riddle turned around, scrutinizing the woman before him. "You mean..."
"Our common master." Narcissa lowered her proud and beautiful head.
Her last shred of hope was shattered.
The identity of the person before him was beyond guessing; he was the Dark Lord's past, the Diary that had been on the bookshelf in the Chamber of Secrets.
The mysterious wizard who could subdue the Dark Lord and hide himself beside the White Lord.
At Hogwarts, he could undoubtedly take Draco's life at any time.
She now only hoped that the mysterious wizard—no, her master—was truly a lecher.
And so, to Riddle's astonishment, Narcissa, with a touch of shyness, like an eighteen-year-old girl, asked in a low but clear voice, "When may I serve our master in bed?"
Basil, of course, could not hear Narcissa's thoughts.
All he knew was that there wasn't a trace of a lie in her words.
Basil's steps became lighter.
The same goes for Draco Malfoy.
After meeting Harry, a smile appeared on his lips that he himself did not notice.
Before leaving, he uttered a harsh threat. "The final Quidditch Cup will definitely belong to Slytherin!"
Sirius nodded. "I also think my nephew is better."
But at the same time, he winked to indicate that he actually supported Harry and Gryffindor.
Then, the two of them left the dormitory, the Gryffindor Common Room, with light steps.
This surprised Basil a bit.
In this world, the Sirius cares about most is probably a clone of James, Harry.
He would actually give up time with Harry for the sake of that annoying Malfoy family boy.
He's more like Draco Malfoy's godfather than Harry's now.
However, this was not what surprised Basil the most.
At dusk.
In the back garden, beside Aragog's body.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Basil looked at each other in bewilderment.
No one, including Hagrid, could muster a single tear.
Even as Hagrid kept reminiscing, "I raised him from an egg. He was so tiny when he hatched, only about the size of a pug. I used to keep him in a cupboard at school, until... sigh..."
Self-reflection. "It's all my fault—this idiot! I told that villain how to subdue Lucky! I told him! He knew everything except this, and I just had to tell him! All for a dragon egg! And then I neglected my duty, forgetting my job as the Forbidden Forest keeper! Old Malfoy was in the Forbidden Forest the whole time! He stayed there for a month! And I didn't find anything! When they broke into the area, I was still drinking in the chest! I should be kicked out and be Muggle for life!"
But Hagrid's grief and self-blame never reached their peak.
Tears welled up, but vanished the next second.
Ron was the same.
He's not so afraid of spiders anymore.
But beside him, next to the newly dug pit, was Aragog's corpse.
The eight milky-white eyes, the two curved claws, and every single bristle on its body were clearly visible.
In a non-combat situation, without the support of classmates fighting alongside him, he should have felt a chill run down his spine.
But the sense of fear was always a little lacking.
Fear, but not much.
Only Basil knew the reason.
His [Inspire] talent is active.
Like the terrifying force field that surrounds you like Dementor.
His body was like a funnel, drawing in everything defined as "shadow," drawing in negativity that caused emotional breakdown.
It's safe to say that if he's at the funeral, you can forget about crying at the grave.
The awkward silence lasted for a long time.
Until the moon rises high in the sky.
Basil spoke up, "How about we bury Aragog?"
"No wonder it's so hot."
The sun had already set, Scottish Highlands have a huge temperature difference between day and night, so it's not hot at all.
But the steps were there.
Harry, Ron, Hermione nodded.
Hagrid, still immersed in his minor pain, nodded in agreement.
He picked up the Pink Umbrella next to him and waved it.
The ten-foot-high mound of freshly dug earth rose up and pressed heavily on the dead spider, forming a smooth mound.
Harry hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped himself.
Because the large pit next to the mound still exists.
The flowers adorning the bottom suggest that Aragog's body should have been placed in the pit and then covered with soil.
But Hagrid seems to have omitted a step.
Basil quickly covered Harry's mouth, while Ron winked at him.
Hermione waved her wand and cast Silencing Charm.
Clearly, they all want to go back to the castle now.
Surprisingly, Hagrid was the same.
His sadness fluctuated, and all he wanted now was to go back into the box and find Norberta.
The funeral has now concluded.