The Fish Takes the Bait

News that the Malfoys had come to Hogwarts to watch the Quidditch match spread like a whirlwind through Draco's mouth, quickly sweeping across the entire school.

Lucius Malfoy, the Pure-blood wizard renowned for his wealth and influence, had spared no expense in equipping every Slytherin player with the latest Nimbus 2001 broomsticks.

With such luxurious equipment, Slytherin had been practically unstoppable in this year's House Cup.

The Slytherin players were all full of high spirits, declaring that they would thrash the Gryffindor players in the match and show Mr. Malfoy, their generous sponsor, that his investment had been well worth it.

However, this news was undoubtedly a disaster for the teams of the other Houses.

Gryffindor in particular mocked Draco, claiming that he had only become Slytherin's Seeker because he had a wealthy father, while his actual skills were pitiful.

Unlike Harry, who had become Gryffindor's Seeker in his first year through his own talent and ability.

Draco was furious at the mockery. His face had turned pale with a faint flush of red from anger.

He swore that he would show his abilities in front of his father and mother and make those who mocked him shut up.

Besides, he thought he had one advantage over Harry: he knew his parents would come in person to watch the match, while Harry, that orphan, would never receive such treatment.

What about Harry?

How could an orphan like Harry compare to him? He was probably hiding beneath his blankets and wiping away tears right now.

Harry truly was upset, especially on the day of the match, when the Malfoys arrived at Hogwarts.

Draco was pulled into his mother's embrace, and that warm scene deeply stabbed at Harry's heart.

Harry admitted that he was jealous. How he wished his parents could come watch his match too, and give him a warm hug.

Hermione keenly noticed Harry's low spirits. She gently patted his shoulder and encouraged him, "Defeat him on the field, Harry. Make him lose face in front of his parents."

Those words were like a warm current, reigniting Harry's fighting spirit.

Before the match, Dumbledore invited Lucius to have a talk.

Naturally, Lucius refused. He had come to watch his son's match—how could he leave at a time like this?

Dumbledore softly said one word in his ear: "Diary."

Then he turned and left the pitch. Lucius shuddered all over, as though he had been struck by lightning.

"What is it, darling?" Narcissa asked with concern, her beautiful face filled with worry.

"Dumbledore wants to discuss something with me."

Lucius tried to keep his voice calm, but his slightly trembling lips still revealed his anxiety to his wife.

"What could be so important that it has to be now?" Narcissa frowned in displeasure.

Feigning ease, Lucius said, "Who knows what that crazy old man is thinking."

He forced a faint smile onto his face.

Narcissa felt that things were not as simple as Lucius made them sound, but she trusted her husband. "Go and come back quickly."

"Of course. I don't want to miss Draco's performance."

He had no choice but to follow Dumbledore away, leaving behind his worried wife, Narcissa.

The two remained silent along the way, and the air was thick with tension.

In the Headmaster's Office, Lucius was surprised to find Professor Wes present as well.

A sense of foreboding rose in his heart. Pretending that he had never met Wes before, he asked, "Dumbledore, who is this?"

"Mr. Malfoy certainly has a poor memory for people. We met at Flourish and Blotts." Wes did not beat around the bush. Pointing at the diary on the desk, he said, "It seems the diary I picked up at Flourish and Blotts was something you dropped, but I had no way to contact you, so I had to ask the Headmaster to get in touch with you."

Lucius first gave the diary a quick glance, then immediately looked away. Somewhat flustered, he said, "I think you have the wrong person. Such a shabby diary could not possibly be mine."

"Then it seems I was mistaken." With that, Wes extended his index finger and pointed. The diary began to burn.

Crimson flames surged up in an instant.

Silent and Wandless Spellcasting!

Wes's magical attainment stunned Lucius.

He had only seen such superb magical skill from Dumbledore and Voldemort. Just who was this Professor Erwin?

Though his heart was in turmoil, Lucius moved with extraordinary speed.

He rushed to the desk in a single stride, violently knocked the burning diary to the floor, and quickly stomped out the flames with several kicks.

Only when he saw that the diary remained completely unharmed did he let out a slight sigh of relief.

"Why is Mr. Malfoy so nervous? It is only an ordinary diary. If it burns, it burns." There was a trace of barely perceptible mockery in Wes's voice.

Lucius hurriedly changed his story. "I remember now. I do seem to have lost a diary..."

The urgency in his eyes seemed to say that he desperately wanted to take the diary and leave this place as soon as possible.

It was bad enough that it hadn't caused chaos at Hogwarts. At least if I get the diary back, I won't be punished, he thought to himself.

However, Wes blocked his way.

"Professor Erwin?" Lucius asked tentatively.

"Since this diary belongs to Mr. Malfoy, then I'm afraid I can't let you have it."

Wes pointed his wand at Lucius.

"What are you doing? I'm a school governor!" Lucius roared, but the panic in his eyes did not escape Wes's notice.

"It seems Mr. Malfoy knows that this diary is no ordinary object."

"I don't know what you are talking about. It is merely a diary I lost by accident."

Lucius forced himself to remain calm, but his slightly trembling voice still exposed his nervousness.

"So he never told you that this is a Horcrux." Wes no longer intended to beat around the bush. He stated the truth directly.

"A Horcrux???" Lucius's hand went slack, and the diary fell to the floor.

The sharp smack! pulled Lucius back from his shock.

He bent down to pick it up, but Wes stepped on the diary.

"Could Mr. Malfoy explain why your diary is a Horcrux? Could it be that Mr. Malfoy has a human life on his hands?"

Wes's voice was like a sharp sword, piercing Lucius's heart.

Lucius jerked his hand back as though shocked, rendered speechless for a moment.

"Mr. Malfoy, could you answer my question?"

Wes pressed forward step by step, exuding an oppressive presence.

For a moment, Lucius could not find any suitable excuse to fob Wes off.

Wes picked up the diary. "Voldemort entrusted a Horcrux to you for safekeeping, yet did not tell you the truth. It seems he did not trust you."

Lucius wished he could cover Wes's mouth. His face had turned deathly pale.

"What do you think will happen if your master learns that you lost his Horcrux?" Wes continued to apply pressure.

Lucius's entire body went limp with fright, and he nearly collapsed onto the floor.

"Oh, it was not lost by you. You turned from darkness to the light and voluntarily handed it over to Headmaster Dumbledore." Wes continued pressing him.

Dumbledore chimed in, "That's right. Today, Mr. Malfoy handed the Horcrux over to me and expressed remorse for what he had done in the past."

"No!" Lucius howled in despair. "You can't do this."

"Of course we can. After all, the Horcrux is in our hands. Do you think Voldemort will believe you?" Wes's tone carried an obvious threat, every word like a sharp blade.

Lucius seemed to have lost his soul, sitting there in a daze.

He knew clearly that once this news reached Voldemort's ears, given his suspicious and capricious nature, his fate would be extremely miserable.