Fate

Once he had confirmed that his orders were useless against Amosta Breen, Malfoy's gaze turned cold.

He had no desire to deal with him at all; he only wanted to go back and finish his letter. Yet for some reason, when Breen—the man bearing the title of Investigator—politely bid him farewell and headed toward the dormitory, he still trailed after him.

"I have to keep an eye on you, Breen, in case someone discovers they've lost something valuable when term starts!"

When Amosta noticed Draco Malfoy following behind him and looked surprised, Malfoy said viciously, "I wouldn't dare vouch for someone of unknown origins!"

"That is a very reasonable argument, Mr. Malfoy. Then please bear witness for me."

Amosta nodded and ignored him after that.

There were many vacant dormitories in every House tower. Whenever young wizards graduated, the dorms they had lived in for seven years became empty, but they were not necessarily put back into use immediately. Sometimes they would sit vacant for another two years before being assigned to newly enrolled students.

"This is my dormitory!"

So when Breen stopped outside his dorm room, Draco's face darkened as though it had been smeared with ink.

"Oh, is it?" Amosta raised an eyebrow. "Then that truly is a fortunate coincidence. It saves me from having to use force to open the door. So... Mr. Malfoy, would you mind opening it for me?"

Though unwilling, since he had already come this far, Malfoy was still curious about what Breen had hidden in his dormitory. He seemed to have noticed that Amosta was not particularly wealthy, and so he threatened him viciously.

"If you damage anything, I'll make you pay for it in full!"

This dormitory had changed considerably since Amosta's school days, but the beds seemed not to have been moved much. He stood in the doorway and studied the room carefully for a while before walking toward the side nearest the window.

Beyond the window lay the Black Lake, its silver-green ripples shimmering all year round. It was an excellent view. When he had first arrived at Hogwarts, he had not lived there, but after the Christmas holiday of his fifth year, unable to withstand the earnest invitations of several roommates, he had been "forced" to move in.

The young wizard living here now was probably quite rich. Amosta saw the latest broomstick from the Nimbus Series leaning against the headboard, while the bedding was not the standard issue provided by the school. It was woven and stuffed with gold thread and the finest velvet.

"Oh, it certainly looks magnificent—"

Amosta examined the exquisite daily necessities arranged around the bed with great interest. He turned, intending to ask who the bed belonged to, but when he saw Malfoy's face darken even further behind him, the answer became clear.

"It seems the two of us are truly fated, Mr. Malfoy."

"I can tell—you're a liar." Malfoy spoke with absolute certainty. "I've slept in this bed for nearly two years, and I've never found anything strange about it!"

"Perhaps that is because you were not observant enough, Mr. Malfoy."

Amosta knew Malfoy probably did not like him, so he had no intention of lingering. He took the broomstick from the headboard and tossed it to Malfoy, then instructed him to wait by the door.

"You think I'm going to steal your things?"

"Not at all." Amosta shook his wand from his sleeve. "To make sure the important item I placed here could not be taken by someone stumbling upon it by chance, I left behind two safeguards. There may be quite a bit of commotion when I deal with them shortly, but do not worry, Mr. Malfoy. I swear on my life that I can keep you safe."

Holding his wand, Amosta approached Malfoy's luxurious bed. He stared at the rough stone-brick wall and, starting from the window side, counted to the seventh brick. He fixed his gaze on the seam between it and the eighth brick, then waved his wand to move the bedside table aside. Lowering his gaze to the floor, he counted another seven bricks from the inside out, arriving at a point roughly one-third of the way down from the head of the bed.

He crouched down and drew his wand across his arm. Steaming crimson blood spurted out, splashing across the dark bluish-green floor tiles.

"What are you doing?!"

Malfoy frowned in disgust as he slowly edged closer.

"The magic you used to protect your things... it looks like Dark Magic?"

After healing his wound, Amosta fixed his full attention on the floor. The blood scattered over the stone tiles was writhing eerily. Influenced by some force, it desperately burrowed underground. Before long, every drop had sunk into the floor, and then a pale golden little snake with its head held high emerged from the center of a tile.

"Do not say something so amateurish, Mr. Malfoy. You'll make me think you aren't a Slytherin student."

The appearance of the golden snake meant that his protective magic had not failed. In a good mood, Amosta teased him.

"All right, Mr. Malfoy. If you refuse to wait outside, then you should prepare yourself. Do not let what is inside frighten you."

Malfoy wanted to make a few mocking remarks, but the words reached his lips and never came out. He suddenly felt that this Amosta Breen was rather uncanny. Still, his pride would not allow him to be scared off so easily. After hesitating for a moment, he remained where he was.

Amosta paid Malfoy no further attention. He raised his wand toward the little golden snake. As he chanted an incantation, the magic in the air grew viscous, and the already dim room quietly became even darker.

Hisss~

The golden snake flicked its tongue and stretched out its body. It swayed from side to side before slithering once around the seam of the tile where it dwelled, moving as swiftly as a ghostly shadow. Finally, it returned to its original position, its form gradually fading until it vanished.

After all that effort, a streak of light suddenly flashed across the dark bluish-green tile. Then, along a crack splitting its middle, the tile flipped outward, revealing a black hole two feet deep.

Several seconds passed, and the room remained silent. Unable to suppress his curiosity, Malfoy leaned over to peer inside. When he saw the little thing atop the stone casket at the bottom of the hole, his expression stiffened for a moment. Then he bared his teeth in a grin.

"So the huge commotion you mentioned is just a spider the size of a fist?"

Malfoy sneered mockingly. "And it looks like this spider is already dead, Breen. Don't tell me it was some little pet you kept when you were in school? You went to all this trouble just to find it a grave?"

"I disagree with you, Mr. Malfoy. I believe this spider is still alive."

Amosta calmly stared at the motionless spider lying on the lid of the stone casket and took a few steps back. "It may simply have spent too long in an environment without sunlight. It might need a little stimulation to—"

As he spoke, Amosta pointed his wand at the spider, and a gentle breeze appeared out of thin air.

Just as he had said, when the breeze brushed across the spider's dense, bristle-like leg hairs, the creature—which had tucked all eight legs beneath its belly—suddenly reacted. It raised its ugly head, and its eight emerald-green eyes spun wildly.

"—So what? What can it possibly do?"

Whoosh!

Before Malfoy could finish speaking, the spider's eight legs snapped open. Its leaping power was astonishing; with a single mighty jump, its fist-sized body shot straight to the ceiling. Then a blurred afterimage flashed past, and the Acromantula, imprisoned for four or five years, finally returned to its original size!

Boom!

When the Acromantula landed, the dormitory was immediately shaken as though the heavens and earth were collapsing. The two beds standing side by side in the center of the room were crushed into splinters beneath its enormous body!

Click, click, click!

The Acromantula, imprisoned by Amosta for five or six years, frantically waved its pincers. If it could speak, Amosta believed it would have cursed his ancestors eighteen generations over!

Endless savagery and fury made it impossible for the Acromantula, suddenly restored to freedom, to stay still for even a moment. Its two terrifying black claws flailed desperately through the air, while six long, slender legs covered in stiff bristles carried its enormous body charging wildly around the room. Before long, aside from Malfoy's bed, there was almost nothing left in the room that remained intact.

Crack!

Finally venting some of its rage, the spider drove all six of its legs into the hard stone wall. It hung beneath the ceiling on the far side of the room, looking down from above. All eight eyes glared at Amosta, who had subjected it to inhuman torment. Its hideous pincers stretched wide open as it prepared to fight to the death!

"Hey, long time no see, Little Eight-Eyes!"

Amosta waved his wand in his right hand. "I'm so glad to see you're still so full of energy!"

"What have you done?"

Malfoy, who had somehow collapsed paralyzed on the floor, stared blankly at Amosta's forehead and muttered in a dreamlike tone. Suddenly, his deathly pale face flushed red. As though granted a final burst of life, he sprang up from the floor and roared hoarsely at Amosta, "You actually dared to hide something like this beside my bed, Breen! I'll tell my father everything! You won't last until tomorrow—you'll be packing your things and leaving!"

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