As the noble heir of the Malfoy family, Draco, like many young men, has obsessive-compulsive disorder related to cleanliness.
Especially after being covered in indescribable substances, he would take a shower three times a day.
Get up once,
Once at noon,
Once before bed.
This habit was known to all the students in the Slytherin dormitories.
The first thing Draco did after waking up was to move the wooden cup from the bedside table.
If I don't do this, I won't be able to move when my feet are on the floor next to the bed.
After getting out of bed and putting on his slippers, he went to the wardrobe and knocked on it three times before opening it.
He picked up the shirt and trousers, which were as soft and comfortable as silk, and knocked three times lightly after closing the wardrobe door.
Today is the third grade, tomorrow will be the sixth grade.
Those who don't understand the rules can only dismantle this luxurious and sturdy wardrobe.
After unlocking all the magical mechanisms at the dormitory entrance, Draco, feeling refreshed, headed to the shower room.
As soon as he stepped inside, his gaze was drawn to a brand-new bar of soap placed in front of the mirror.
It is not simple at all.
Its appearance is extremely high-end.
It looks quite pleasing to the eye.
Those green lace stripes elevate the entire quality of the soap.
The small silver Little Snakes in the center, in particular, elevates it to the level of a work of art.
This look,
This style,
Draco fell in love with it at first sight.
He reached into his pajama pocket, pulled out a handful of Gold Galleons, placed them on the soap bar, and then held the whole bar of soap in his hand.
Describing it as light as a feather is a bit of an exaggeration, but it is indeed much lighter than some so-called high-end products.
He applied a little pressure with his five fingers and then released them, only to find that the surface did not show any dents.
With this level of quality, it's worth adding another Gold Galleons.
"It feels good."
Such high quality is comparable to the pajama pants he is currently wearing, which have been enchanted with Undetectable Extension Charm and feel completely comfortable.
The Malfoy family were rich; it was only a mere 100 Galleon to buy a bar of soap.
Draco walked into the cubicle with it, feeling it was worth the price.
Warm water streamed down his head, splashing onto the soap in his hand.
A wisp of drifting mist instantly transformed the entire cubicle into an ethereal, fairyland-like space.
Draco, lost in his own reverie, was unaware of the extraordinary nature of these vapors.
He took a deep breath, trying to smell the fragrant aroma through his nose.
"Fuck!"
He was wrong, and very wrong.
This pungent, eye-irritating stuff is definitely not some ordinary high-end product.
After throwing it forcefully to the ground, he covered his eyes with the hand that had touched it.
"Screw your damn soap!"
The moment the tears came into contact with the residue on their hands, an incredible and magical reaction occurred.
And the soap on the ground was even more remarkable.
Draco, who was covering his eyes, knew from the snot that was involuntarily running down his nose that the cubicle he was in was filled with these terrible fumes.
He reached out his other hand and groped around, trying to open the door and escape.
But before that, they forgot to turn off the tap.
The soap, being rinsed by warm water, slid to his feet.
Get out of my way!
A pair of fair, delicate feet kicked its equally fair body.
Even though it is essentially a liquid, the surface is indeed made of soap.
"Thump—"
Draco, who was peering into the cubicle door, had one side of his face flushed red.
He opened his eyes in pain, but then hurriedly closed them again because of the burning sensation from the aerosol.
The tears that followed were all genuine.
He failed to save himself once, but after falling onto the door, he quickly opened it and climbed out.
Despite being barely clothed, he stood up with an imposing air.
"No matter who it is, he must die!"
Such a domineering declaration, coupled with these enchanting mists, does indeed have a sense of invincibility.
Thankfully, none of the Little Snakes have the habit of getting up to take a bath, otherwise young Master Malfoy would have suffered social death.
"Pfft—Hahahaha!"
When Draco appeared with red-rimmed eyes, the Great Hall was filled with countless joyful laughs.
The three students at the Gryffindor table were laughing the loudest.
One of them rolled around on the marble floor.
One of them burst into a convulsive laugh, emitting a goose-like honking.
The last one was laughing so hard he was practically suffocating.
Draco, whose face instantly turned red, had considered various solutions.
However, even Snape, Old Malfoy's good friend, said he was helpless.
Since they've already made that announcement, the Hospital Wing on the second floor probably can't do anything about it.
"Take it with you when you go out."
This somewhat cold remark clearly indicated that someone had offended him in some way.
Draco couldn't figure it out, so he had to face this cruel reality.
As soon as they sat down, the Little Snakes began to whisper among themselves.
Several of the older students suggested adding protective measures to the shower rooms so that the victims could shower with peace of mind.
"Malfoy, what do you think?"
Draco didn't think much of it.
This lousy school has been targeting him every single moment since he boarded the train.
He wants to transfer schools!
Go to Durmstrang!
After missing a spell section, an urgent reply arrived.
Draco finished reading with trembling hands.
Not only his mother objected, but even his father, who disliked Hogwarts, objected.
All of this was simply because the Malfoy family, in the name of the School Board Member, donated a large quantity of teaching supplies to the school.
Drop out of school?
That would be a waste of money!
"Damn Wayne!"
If you can't find even half a suspect, then find someone to vent your anger on.
However, this heavyweight is someone we shouldn't mess with right now.
He had his doubts about Vincent, but Snape had made it clear that a first-year wizard could never master such a Transfiguration technique.
Rather than attributing the crime to these Gryffindor students, it's more likely that the culprit was hiding in Slytherin.
The design of that soap was unmistakably pure Slytherin style.
Draco, increasingly agitated, even skipped his afternoon Transfiguration class.
McGonagall was quite humane; at least she didn't deduct any points from Slytherin's score.
But the news brought back by Crabbe and Goyle said that she looked very unwell at the time.
If I miss another one, points will definitely be deducted.
The prisoner was completely clueless and wanted to leave but couldn't.
Draco didn't shower before bed tonight.
Even though the shower room has been equipped with many protective measures, I no longer feel like maintaining this habit.
Unable to fall asleep no matter what he did, he got up, left his dormitory, and went to his dean's office.
"Professor, are you asleep?"
"Bang—Bang—"
An extremely piercing sound rang out.
Just as Draco was about to ask what was going on, the office door was violently pushed open from the inside.
He was knocked to the ground and looked up to see a figure wearing a black cloak.
"You're not a professor! Who are you?!"
The You-Know-Who drew his wand and disappeared into the dungeon in a flash of red light.
Before losing consciousness, Draco had only one firm thought in his mind.
This You-Know-Who sneaked into the dean's office in the middle of the night must be the prisoner who dared to come to his dormitory three times to mess with him!