Malfoy's Promise

"Who's there?" Snape's expression was irritable as he glared with dull eyes into the distance, and to his side, a centaur was actually following him!

The centaur's eyes held a thoughtful look as he said, "Perhaps it is a student wandering at night; the Forbidden Forest is often frequented by the children, though I have important matters to discuss with Dumbledore today."

"Hmph, I hope you truly have urgent business, otherwise, the merpeople knocking on my glass and interrupting my potion brewing will not be so easily dismissed." Snape withdrew his gaze, having no interest in students wandering at night; that was Filch's job.

"I am merely a poor Potions Class professor, wishing only to return to tidy up my even poorer potions, rather than wasting time here with you."

Snape addressed the stone gargoyle at the entrance of the Headmaster's office: "Sherbet Lemon!"

The gate slowly opened.

"Please enter, centaur who disturbs wizards in the dead of night; I hope you know the way out."

Having said this, Snape flicked his robes, turned, and strode away, his footsteps echoing with a rhythmic tap-tap on the stairs until he faded into the distance.

Firenze did not mind Snape's attitude and proceeded to walk into the Headmaster's office.

Not far from the Green Apple Tree portrait, Breeze stopped in his tracks, his gaze sharp as he stared at Malfoy. "Do you intend to go to the roof and sleep with me, Malfoy?"

"Hmph." Malfoy's face was flustered, but his tone was somewhat pleading. "You have to let me hide; that's Snape!"

"He isn't the type to meddle in others' affairs. It is highly likely he has already left; if you turn back now, you won't be discovered." Breeze watched Malfoy's face turn even paler and felt only a sense of helplessness; this fearless Malfoy was actually afraid of Snape.

"Oh no, you don't understand. Snape detests Slytherins who get caught breaking the rules, and the key is that he is friends with my father. I am currently begging my father to help me buy a new broomstick; you must help me, I absolutely cannot fall into his hands at a time like this!"

Malfoy knew how to be afraid now; why didn't he have this sense of crisis when he was setting Harry up earlier?

"So?" Breeze looked at Malfoy with a cold face. "The roof cannot accommodate a second person."

"Oh, don't be silly." Malfoy looked at Breeze haughtily. "Do you think I don't know you? You're that Slytherin fellow who can eat and sleep well; every time you come to breakfast, you're the latest and eat the most. You must be living quite well on the roof."

"Tap-tap-tap-tap!"

Hearing the approaching footsteps, both Malfoy and Breeze's expressions changed.

Malfoy widened his eyes and immediately said, "Hurry, I know the reason for your red eyes!"

Red eyes?

"You had better be telling the truth."

Breeze walked quickly to the Green Apple Tree portrait and tapped the brick with his wand. The portrait opened, Breeze and Malfoy stepped inside, and the portrait closed behind them.

"Mars tells me it senses the breath of nature..."

Firenze walked up to the Green Apple Tree portrait, observed it carefully for a moment, and then added, "Mars says nature does not welcome its attention; it gave a warning back in the Forbidden Forest... well, the thousand-year-old Hogwarts is always so mysterious."

Firenze slowly left the eighth floor. He had already told Dumbledore what he had seen tonight, and after handing over the letters to Dumbledore, he prepared to leave. If not for the guidance of Mars, he would not have lingered.

Breeze was aware of the natural magic within his body, but he had never figured out why his eyes turned red and his hair turned white. Although it was related to natural magic, Breeze did not understand the key to it.

I hope Malfoy is telling the truth.

"Oh, so you found a dilapidated Owlery here."

Malfoy looked at the empty first floor and curled his lip in disdain. Breeze ignored him, waiting until he was certain Snape would not open the portrait before walking up to the second floor with peace of mind.

Malfoy followed immediately behind.

"Breeze, who is this!"

Faner stared at Malfoy, while Breeze took out the Green Apple Tree he had forgotten to take out of his pocket.

"Stay here and don't move around; I'm going to plant an apple tree."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow as he watched Faner hissing and spitting lamp oil, saying nothing.

When Breeze finished planting the Green Apple Tree not far from the Four-Leaf Vine and returned, he saw Malfoy tugging on Faner's tail, saying viciously, "You actually dared to spit fire at my hair!"

Looking at the hair that Malfoy was protecting, Breeze took Faner back.

"Don't mess around. Stay here for a while; Snape can't keep watch forever."

"Hmph, I don't want to stay here at all."

Seeing Breeze still watching him, Malfoy said nonchalantly, "I am a Malfoy, a noble with a long history; naturally, I possess some hidden books and know some secrets, such as the characteristics of Salazar Slytherin's descendants."

"Yes, red eyes, black hair, Parseltongue..."

"You are very likely a half-blood and a descendant of Slytherin. If you can speak Parseltongue, it would be even more certain. In a book at my home, it is recorded that Slytherin had red pupils, and many of his descendants did not inherit them; only those with exceptional talent would show some signs."

Is that so?

A descendant of Slytherin?

Salazar Slytherin, a noble pure-blood archmage who, a thousand years ago, established Hogwarts School with the other three archmages to shelter the Wizards who were under threat at the time...

But Salazar Slytherin was hostile toward half-bloods and Muggle-born wizards, believing they were not qualified to learn magic. Later, he had a falling out with the other archmages, left Hogwarts, and his whereabouts remained unknown.

Breeze rubbed his head. Regarding the classification of pure-blood, half-blood, and Muggle-born, he did not agree with it at all; it was nothing more than the hysteria of incompetent pure-bloods.

Malfoy looked at Breeze's face and said, "You might be a child born to a descendant of Slytherin and an Easterner. Regarding the Eastern wizarding world, we don't know much besides Japan."

"Of course, this is all speculation, unless you can speak Parseltongue and understand the language of snakes; only then could the credibility be increased."

Parseltongue?

Breeze had encountered snakes before, but he had never heard any snake language. Remaining skeptical, he did not continue Malfoy's line of questioning.

"Can you let me see that book?"

Malfoy stroked his platinum hair and nodded slightly.

"If you are asking, then..."

"Good, thank you. It's getting late, you can leave the Owlery now. Also, don't tell anyone about what happened here."

Watching Breeze's eyes slowly turn red and feeling the increasingly powerful magical pressure radiating from his body, Malfoy nodded stiffly.

"I'm not a loose-lipped fellow." Malfoy left hesitantly, and the Owlery soon fell silent.

"Faner, do you know Salazar Slytherin himself?"

Faner shook its head. It had never left the Owlery; even when the owner of this place was a student from the first generation at Hogwarts, Faner had never seen Slytherin.

"I am not sure. Besides, the person from before was a Ravenclaw student, but he didn't have much animosity toward Slytherin himself. In fact, because alchemy requires powerful potions for support, that fellow even sought guidance from Slytherin."

It was too ancient. Breeze could not glean much information from these fragmented words.

Moreover.

"Slytherin is Slytherin, and Order is Order. I will never consider turning Order into a Slytherin. This is my pride; I have the qualifications to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with anyone, and I have this confidence."

Breeze cast aside the various thoughts in his mind, leaving only his reason to ask himself: did he need the "glory" left behind by Slytherin?

The answer was obvious.

"Who else is left of the Slytherin lineage? I cannot find a single surviving family in the British magical world. Those 'Slytherins' who prioritize profit above all else would never bow down to anyone just because of a surname."

One's own glory must be earned by oneself.

"Rest now, Faner. Tomorrow is Monday, and I have to face that garlic stench again. This Quirrell is truly no good."

Monday's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was not pleasant, especially while Breeze was trying to keep his disguise intact. The usual Breeze was lazy when it came to interpersonal interactions and only wore a mask when necessary, but having to act through a class with Quirrell left him feeling mentally exhausted.

I hope Quirrell keeps his eyes off me.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts...

"How did you endure that? Hah."

Snape didn't have enough slugs for Malfoy and Harry to process, so he mostly sent them off to copy books or help Filch clean the castle. But Breeze was different; as a junior assistant, he had to face Quirrell's stench head-on.

"Don't ignore me. That book will be delivered in a moment."

Hearing Malfoy say this, Breeze finally looked him in the eye.

"Many thanks, young master Malfoy. I have no class this afternoon, so I can finish reading it and return it to you as soon as possible."

Breeze spoke, though deep down he didn't have much expectation for the book; he would treat it as just another volume to broaden his knowledge.

Malfoy didn't speak, but Pansy, standing beside him, pursed her lips with a look of hesitation.

The terror Breeze had unleashed when he wreaked havoc in the Slytherin common room still lingered in the minds of many little snakes. They all understood that Breeze was not someone to be trifled with. However, over this period, Breeze seemed to exist outside of Slytherin; aside from eating and attending classes, they rarely encountered him, and gradually, they had settled down.

But today, Malfoy had actually taken the initiative to speak to Breeze. This was truly...

Had Malfoy established a connection with Breeze?

Even the upperclassmen who had tried to smooth things over with Breeze in the past had failed. This was truly worthy of a Malfoy.

Daphne and Pansy exchanged glances and instinctively followed behind Malfoy and Breeze. Nott remained silent, and the other little snakes only dared to cast a probing look before falling silent, their thoughts unknown.

"A flashy peacock." Breeze chuckled. He didn't care about Malfoy's little schemes; perhaps this was Malfoy's awkward way of showing goodwill, but making peace with Slytherin wasn't that easy. At the very least, Breeze didn't care for it.

As lunch ended, owls flew in through the skylights on both sides of the ceiling.

Malfoy's was a sturdy tawny owl, brownish-yellow in color. Because it often brought desserts made by his mother, many people recognized it.

"Here, for you." Malfoy didn't linger by Breeze's side; he understood that the relationship between him and Breeze was, at best, not that of enemies. By comparison, only friends recognized by Breeze could inquire about his affairs.

"Breeze, what was Malfoy looking for you for just now?" Cedric turned from his seat at his own table, poked Breeze's waist, and asked suspiciously, "He gave you a book?"

Breeze did not refuse Cedric's concern and answered this rather unimportant question.

"Perhaps it has to do with my background, but I'm not sure."

Hearing this, Cedric blinked, seemingly thinking of something, and then said, "If you need anything, you can come to me for help. Diggory is also a family with some history; perhaps my family has books that can help you."

"Of course, thank you, good brother. But I'm not actually that obsessed with my background. I can live quite well on my own."

"Oh, indeed. You don't have as many desires as the other little snakes; keeping things simple is quite nice." Cedric smiled gently, though he looked a bit worried as he glanced at the empty plates piled in front of Breeze. "But Breeze, you should really think about the future. Although wizarding food isn't expensive..."

Breeze's expression stiffened upon hearing this, and he did not speak to Cedric again.

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