Magic Conversion Potion and Another Attack (7)

Draco turned his head and looked at the Hufflepuff boy. His gaze was neither cold nor warm, carrying no threat at all, yet the boy's voice gradually diminished beneath it until it became a muffled gurgle, as though something had caught in his throat.

"Robbery?" Draco arched an elegant brow, the curve at the corner of his mouth widening slightly. "Or do you think your life... isn't worth seventy Galleons?"

He paused, allowing those words to linger in everyone's minds for another moment. Then he continued, his voice lower than before, so low it sounded as though he were reading a verdict.

"Think of Creevey. Think of Finch-Fletchley. Think of... Nearly Headless Nick. Not even ghosts could escape it."

The Great Hall fell silent again. This silence differed from the last. The earlier silence had been one of shock; this one was a silence of fear, a silence of not daring to imagine it.

Because every name Draco had spoken corresponded to a petrified, ash-gray face that could no longer move. Those faces lingered in everyone's minds, impossible to drive away.

"Limited quantity," Draco said, his voice returning to its composed, unhurried tone. "Only five doses. Those who believe shall live. Those who doubt... may fortune favor you."

As he spoke those final words, he drew them out, his gaze meaningfully sweeping across the pure-blood students from the other Houses whose faces showed greed and conflict. That look was like a needle, lightly piercing the heart of everyone it passed over.

Silence, followed by the sound of chairs scraping back.

Footsteps.

Hurried, frantic footsteps, like people rushing to catch the last train.

The first person to rush forward was a sixth-year Ravenclaw boy. He wore an impeccably pressed school robe, with a Ravenclaw prefect badge pinned at his collar. His