Online Chats Are Risky, Investments Require Caution
Two days ago, in the Slytherin Common Room.
"Tell me about the Magical World," the Notebook handwriting said languidly. "I've already told you the secrets of the Chamber of Secrets, you should also tell me about the changes in the Magical World —you know, I've been gone for many years."
"Moreover, knowing what happens afterward will allow me to guide you better."
"Where should I begin?" Draco rubbed his aching hands, and once they had eased a bit, he wrote in his Notebook, "I'm sorry, Ancestor, if I were to start from when you left the Magical World, it would probably take three days and three nights to write this down."
"Tell me about your Headmaster, is he still Phineas Black?" the handwriting asked.
"Oh, not anymore. The Headmaster now is Dumbledore." Draco's handwriting showed obvious frustration when he wrote about Dumbledore. "That hypocritical fellow actually allowed Mudblood to study at the school. My father said that with someone like that as Headmaster, there's no way Hogwarts can be any better."
"I trust your father's judgment." The handwriting in the Notebook carried a hint of pleasure. "So, what's Dumbledore's story?"
"He defeated a Dark Wizard named Grindelwald," Draco wrote in his Notebook, "Who is now known as the most powerful White Wizard."
"The most powerful White Wizard?" The handwriting in the Notebook carried a hint of urgency. "Then, my successor, besides this Grindelwald, does this great White Wizard have any other enemies?"
Draco thought for a moment, then wrote truthfully in his Notebook: "Yes, it's the Dark Lord— "
"I know who it is?" (A direct translation of "You-Know-Who") The handwriting became neat again. "Don't joke around, Draco, how would I know who this person is?"
"It's Voldemort." Draco couldn't help but shudder as he wrote the word. "We don't usually call him by his name directly."
"Why?" the Notebook asked.
"Fear," Draco wrote in his Notebook, hesitated for a moment, then added, "And respect, because he promised to give us Pure-blood the status we deserve."
The Notebook's handwriting looked cheerful. "Right, right, pure-blood wizard like us are born to be superior to others. This Voldemort guy's idea is really good... So, where is he now?"
Draco hesitated for a long time before writing in his Notebook: "Harry Potter! He is said to be the Child of Prophecy, Prophecy to be the one who can defeat Voldemort... When Harry Potter was one year old, the Dark Lord tried to kill him, but for some reason, he suddenly disappeared after that. Everyone says that Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord —in fact, he hasn't appeared for ten years."
The Notebook fell silent.
Draco waited for a long time, but still didn't receive a reply.
"Ancestors? Ancestors?" he wrote on it.
Unexpectedly, the handwriting in the Notebook suddenly became messy.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible! How could a one-year-old be defeated by a one-year-old!"
"Ancestor? Why are you so angry?" Draco asked, puzzled as to why his ancestor was so angry about Voldemort's defeat.
The Notebook fell silent.
After a long while, it slowly wrote, "I just think this the Dark Lord... is nothing special, he can't even kill a one-year-old child."
Draco hesitated for a long time, but reason ultimately prevailed over emotion, and he did not agree with the "ancestor" and say that it was true.
"Don't say that, Ancestor. Perhaps he was ambushed by Dumbledore."
"Alright, Draco." The handwriting in the Notebook returned to its neat and elegant form. "I remember you said your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a piece of trash? Tomorrow, take me to his class so I can give you targeted training to address the shortcomings of his curriculum and fill in your weaknesses—this will also help you learn Charms and Dueling Techniques faster and defeat that damned Potter."
"Yes, Ancestor," Draco said with delight, a hint of excitement flashing in his eyes.
The following day, Tuesday, he indeed brought his Notebook to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
Just as he was eagerly opening his Notebook, wanting to write something, the Notebook had already given its opinion.
"Put me away."
Draco obediently closed the Notebook and put it in his pocket.
Professor Quirrell, who was holding a lizard and explaining on the podium, was momentarily stunned. He paused for a moment and then continued to explain the uses of lizard blood to the students.
Unbeknownst to Draco, a turbulent storm was already brewing within the Notebook's consciousness.
Degenerate! Incompetent!
It actually stuck to the back of someone's head!
Do you even deserve to be the main soul if you just barely survive in this world?
After class, Draco quickly ate a bite of food and returned to the Slytherin Common Room.
"Ancestor, why did you ask me to put you away?" he asked.
"I could hear what he was saying even through my pocket," the Notebook noted. "Stuttering, trembling—can someone like that really be a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
The writing didn't disappear for a long time, Draco knew that his ancestor hadn't finished speaking.
Sure enough, another passage appeared below the handwriting.
"Then, my successor, I need some strength."
"What power?" Draco asked impatiently.
"It is power. By borrowing a little power, I can manifest myself before you and guide you better..." the Notebook replied.
"Really?" Draco was delighted. After talking for so long, could his ancestor finally reveal himself to him?
He quickly scribbled in his Notebook: "So, how can I give you strength? Can I?"
"No, my child." The handwriting in the Notebook was very gentle. "You are my most beloved junior. How could I bear to borrow your power?"
Ancestors...
Draco's eyes welled up with tears.
He was really touched.
"Listen to me," the Notebook wrote again, "I remember you have two little henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, right? They both seem pretty strong. You can have them carry my Notebook, and I'll borrow some strength from them."
Crabbe and Goyle?
Draco felt a little jealous, but since the ancestor had spoken, he might as well do as he was told.
So he turned around and called out, "Crabbe, Goyle, come here for a second."
A moment later, two people, one tall and one short, walked in from outside. The two of them stood together, looking like a beer bottle and a can of corned beef.
"You two, take this Notebook." Draco handed the Notebook to them.
Crabbe and Goyle, without suspecting anything, reached out and took the Notebook, each holding one side in each hand.
At the same time, the faint gold lettering "TMRiddle" appeared on the Notebook, quickly disappearing and being replaced by "CC Malfoy".