Magic Conversion Potion and the Attack Again (6)

The chair made a faint sound against the flagstones. It was not harsh, but in the Great Hall, where everyone had deliberately lowered their voices, it drew attention. Rather than shoving his chair back and rising as he usually did, he held the backrest and gently moved it back half an inch before standing and straightening the collar of his robes.

Crabbe looked up, still holding an unchewed piece of meat in his mouth, his cheeks puffed out and his eyes wide. Goyle handed him a cup of hot cocoa. Crabbe drained it in one gulp before letting out a satisfied breath. Pansy set down her pumpkin juice, folded her hands over her knees, and sat even straighter. Blaise stopped tracing circles on the tabletop, withdrew his hand, and crossed his arms over his chest. Nott's fingers tightened slightly around the handle of the suitcase.

Draco's gaze swept over the Slytherin students on both sides of the long table. It was neither fast nor slow, lingering on each face for less than a second, yet everyone felt that he was looking directly at them. He was confirming one thing—everyone was watching him.

He raised his right hand and lightly tapped the goblet before him with his wand.

"Ding—"

The sound was not loud, but in the silent Great Hall, it was like a stone thrown into water. The ripples spread from the Slytherin table to the Ravenclaw table, from Ravenclaw to Hufflepuff, and from Hufflepuff to Gryffindor. Everyone lifted their eyes from their plates, drew them back from the gray sky beyond the windows, and looked away from the tiny dust motes illuminated by candlelight. Their gazes settled on Draco Malfoy.

"Please remain quiet." Draco's voice was not loud, but every word was clear—so clear that it felt as though