Christmas at the Castle

Moriarty's two duels came to an end. Everyone was astonished by the endless stream of family magic he displayed, while also marvelling at the unconventional Transfiguration used by both Moriarty and Charlie.

Of course, Tonks's Patronus had also been a striking sight.

With the three of them before their eyes, many students felt too embarrassed to continue duelling. Professor Flitwick stopped arranging matches as well, asking everyone to submit an essay on duelling—one sheet of parchment would be enough.

"Have you heard of the All-England Wizard Duelling Tournament? You lot—" Professor Flitwick's gaze travelled between William, Leon, Charlie, Tonks, and Moriarty as he tentatively extended an invitation. "You can all take part! I daresay you could achieve quite respectable rankings."

Leon, who intended to enter politics, decisively declined. Charlie also shook his head and politely refused. "It would be nice if there were a Magical Creatures tournament."

Everyone looked at Charlie as though he were a giant. How could Magical Creatures possibly be a competition? Perhaps only Rubeus Hagrid could speak the same language as him.

William also said that he planned to travel after graduation, while Tonks said she would participate if Moriarty did.

"And what about you, Mr Moriarty?" Professor Flitwick asked calmly, his gentle, expectant gaze falling upon Moriarty.

"We'll see, Professor," Moriarty said ambiguously. "I'll be very busy for quite some time."

Professor Flitwick nodded in disappointment. In truth, Moriarty was the one he most wanted to participate, but he also knew Moriarty would not agree easily.

Dumbledore had told him that Moriarty was unlike ordinary people, who were keen on pursuing fame and profit. Nor was he interested in the school's clubs.

In fact, that was the real reason Dumbledore had allowed Flitwick to establish the Duelling Club: he wanted to close the distance between himself and Moriarty.

Another reason was that Flitwick could tell Moriarty was not lying.

Moriarty was telling the truth. He really was busy—perfecting Spells, brewing Potions, improving Cara Boots, arranging the dragon enclosure, opening the Chamber of Secrets... He had far too many things to do.

That did not even include the trivial matters happening at school, such as the Quidditch match two days later.

Thanks to Moriarty's formidable individual strength, the Slytherin Quidditch Team rarely held pre-match training camps, which indirectly reduced the chances of clashing with Gryffindor.

In the changing room before the match, William told the players with a smile that whenever the Gryffindor Quidditch Team trained in the past, they would always go to Severus Snape for a signed permission slip and compete with the Little Lions for the pitch.

Whenever it was the Slytherin Quidditch Team's turn to train, Gryffindor did the same. The two sides went back and forth, fighting fiercely without end.

"Captain William, compared to the match, we want to know who won the duel between you and Prefect Leon," Jericho asked, mustering the courage to voice the thoughts of the little snakes.

William and Leon exchanged a glance, then both shook their heads. William told Jericho that as long as the two of them had fought once, the outcome of the duel no longer mattered.

Jericho wanted to learn more details, but Moriarty dragged him out of the changing room. The match was about to begin.

When the Silver whistle sounded and the players from both teams mounted their brooms, Moriarty heard the system's mission prompt again:

Mission issued: Defeat the Ravenclaw team within forty minutes! Reward: 200 points. Mission failed: The Host must wear Jericho's underwear and fly three laps around the pitch.

Whenever Moriarty mounted a broom, the system always issued some embarrassing punishment. Moriarty had long since grown used to it.

Therefore, in the match against Ravenclaw, Moriarty took even less time. In just thirty minutes, he caught the Golden Snitch, bringing the score to 160–0.

Commentator Tonks spared no praise, lavishly extolling Moriarty. Penelope also ran over to congratulate him.

Moriarty asked which of her and Lilith had gained the upper hand in their duel.

Penelope said Lilith had held the advantage, but Moriarty did not see the slightest sadness on her face. She ran off with a smile.

Time reached the second week of December, when the heads of each House recorded the names of students staying at school rather than going home for Christmas.

Marcus and Jericho were conspicuously among them, while Moriarty, Lilith, Keith, and the others would all be going home for Christmas.

Seeing Marcus and Jericho huddled despondently in a corner of the common room sofa, Moriarty invited them to spend Christmas together at Slytherin Castle.

"Do you really mean that?" Jericho sprang up from the sofa. "We... can go to Slytherin Castle?"

"Of course. You heard correctly." Moriarty nodded with a smile.

Thus, on 25 December, Hogwarts held a Christmas feast for the students and professors remaining at school, while Moriarty led his companions back to the castle in Bristol.

Luke and Ingo, along with the House-elves, had been waiting early on the silver stone road. "Welcome home, young master!"

They bowed to Moriarty. After not seeing them for several months, the House-elves and Goblins seemed to have grown quite a bit fatter.

"Luke, take Marcus and Jericho to choose their rooms. They are guests of the castle during this time," Moriarty instructed his servant. "Ingo, come with me."

Ingo seemed to know what Moriarty intended to do. He said softly, "Lockhart is waiting for you on the second basement level."

Moriarty headed straight for the underground levels. As soon as he reached the door of the Chamber of Secrets on the second level, he heard Lockhart's boisterous cry. "Good day to you, young master! Your most loyal servant, Gilderoy Lockhart, reports for duty!"

Moriarty entered the Chamber of Secrets and spotted Lockhart at once. He gave a comical servant's bow. It seemed he truly had studied the etiquette of noble household servants, but he clearly had no talent for it.

"Get up. Let's discuss business." Moriarty Transfigured two chairs for them. Before Lockhart's backside had even touched his chair, he anxiously blurted out, "Young master, I don't know what went wrong! Dumbledore has actually been making inquiries about me! It's unbelievable. I swear he has never paid attention to me before—there's something highly unusual about this!"

Over the next hour, Moriarty and Lockhart discussed the developments in Britain's magical world.

Suddenly, a series of "click, click..." sounds rang out in the Chamber of Secrets. They sounded rather amusing.

"It's the dragon egg!" Moriarty turned his gaze to the raised platform.

A Phoenix Egg and a dragon egg lay atop it. A deep crack had already appeared across the dragon egg's surface, and something inside was constantly moving. Lockhart hurriedly moved the Phoenix Egg aside, then held his breath and watched the dragon egg closely.

With a burst of piercing scraping sounds, the egg split open.

A baby dragon flapped and wobbled atop the platform.

It was not actually pretty. It looked like a crumpled black umbrella. Its spiny wings seemed especially large compared to its skinny, brass-coloured body.

But its scales were exceptionally smooth, and a black ridge ran down its spine.

It also had a long, large snout, a pair of small horns atop its head, and bulging dark-red eyes.

"Flap, flap."

The little dragon sneezed twice, spitting out a tiny shower of sparks and baring its sharp, slender fangs.

"A Peruvian Vipertooth Dragon! A five-star dangerous magical creature," Moriarty said, swatting away Lockhart's hand as he reached to pet the little dragon. "Don't let its size fool you. Its fangs are highly venomous. If it bites you, even Merlin might not be able to save you."

Lockhart's face turned pale at once. "Oh, sir, then what do we need it for?"

"It? Let's call it 'Christmas'! We'll use it to set up a dragon farm!" Moriarty's eyes gleamed. "Dumbledore has already begun suspecting the relationship between you and me. Let's give him something to do!

Without a doubt, aside from Voldemort, the Pure-blood families could also cause Dumbledore some trouble. Though that trouble would be quite limited, as long as we could divert Dumbledore's attention, we would have enough room to grow."

"Pure-bloods... let me think..." Lockhart racked his brains as well. "The Fli Family has never ventured into animal breeding. The Malfoy family does have a dragon farm in Romania, but Lucius Malfoy's reputation isn't very good. As for the others... the Greengrass family, the Selwyn Family, the Parkinson Family... I'm not very familiar with them."

"We don't need them. This time, it's the Flint family." Moriarty cut off Lockhart's painstaking thoughts and laid out his plan. "That big man who returned with me is the heir to the Flint family.

I intend to hand the dragon farm-related business over to the Flint family—of course, only after Marcus proves his absolute loyalty to me.

It's time for us to make arrangements among the Pure-blood families. You can start approaching some Pure-blood families that are friendly toward half-bloods and Muggles. In addition, I want you to maintain close contact with Ministry of Magic officials. And most importantly, your reputation!

You must continue maintaining the persona you've created: a steadfast fighter against Dark Magic, a powerful adventurer in the eyes of Little Wizards. That way, next year...

Oh, Lockhart, next year, I'll give you a surprise!"