Soul Devouring Potion

"Stop, Malfoy. I have something to ask you."

At a corridor junction, Malfoy had just left the Great Hall with Goyle and Crabbe and was about to go looking for trouble with Harry when a thoroughly disrespectful voice told him to stop and answer some questions.

How dare someone speak to him like that? Young Master Malfoy would never allow a student that cocky to exist at Hogwarts.

Annoyed, Malfoy turned around and saw Jerry standing against the wall at the corner, watching him with an expressionless face.

"Hi, Jerry! Settling into life at Hogwarts? If you need anything, just let me know." His expression changed at lightning speed as he greeted Jerry warmly.

Ignoring Malfoy's sudden change in attitude, Jerry motioned for him to send Goyle and Crabbe away, then asked, "Do you know Trevor Shackle?"

Malfoy breathed a sigh of relief at the question. At least Jerry wasn't here to pick a fight with him. After a moment's thought, he answered, "Yes. A sixth-year Slytherin, from the Shacklebolt family."

"Have you ever heard your father mention anything about the Shacklebolt family? Anything at all."

"The Shacklebolt family doesn't have much to do with our Malfoy family, and they've become very secretive. Once, I eavesdropped while my father was talking to someone and heard that they've allied themselves with several other pure-blood families. Nobody knows exactly what they're planning, not even my father."

Jerry thought over Malfoy's answer, then asked, "Do you know Catherine? Catherine Fawley, the fourth-year Slytherin."

"How do you know her? Catherine never talks to other students apart from those few upper-years." Malfoy looked at Jerry with a strange, surprised expression.

Jerry ignored his question and asked again, "Do you know Catherine? Do you know where she comes from?"

Malfoy shook his head. "All I know is that she has some very powerful connections. Several school governors back her. As for where she comes from, probably only Dumbledore knows. He is the headmaster, after all. Before I came to school, my father told me to find a way to get close to her, preferably to win her friendship, but..."

Jerry nodded at Malfoy's words. Her connections were certainly powerful—she even had a private common room. He asked Malfoy a few more questions, then left when he failed to get any useful information.

Seeing Jerry leave, Goyle ran over and asked, "Boss, why were you so polite to him?"

Malfoy flew into a rage. "Shut up, you idiot! Jerry hasn't gone far yet! Why didn't you rush over and speak up while he was here? And could the three of us even beat him? Do you want me to end up like that idiot yesterday?"

"So we're just letting this go?"

"Of course we're not! We'll deal with Jerry later. Come on, let's go give Potter some trouble first!"

Over the next few days, Jerry's life at Hogwarts returned to normal. No upper-years came looking for trouble, and Catherine and Trevor vanished without a trace, as though they had never existed.

Without those worries, Jerry's days were happy and fulfilling. Every day, he attended classes with Hermione, the young Gryffindor witch, went to the library with her, and wandered and played by the Black Lake with her.

Of course, the two sometimes argued, and Jerry never let her win. The outcome hardly needed mentioning: Jerry always came out on top. A few times, he nearly frustrated the young witch to tears. Fortunately, he had plenty of experience comforting girls.

The only blemish on the past few days was that Jerry seemed to run into Snape everywhere, at any time. He met Snape on his way to early classes, encountered him while reading in the library, and even saw him passing by when he went to the toilet.

Jerry didn't particularly care. At worst, he would behave himself for a few days. Besides, Harry would start "stirring things up" soon enough. He didn't believe Snape would still have time to watch him this closely then.

Eight o'clock on a weekend evening, at the Hogwarts Library.

Several peaceful days had almost made Jerry forget that he still had a detention to serve. That damned old bat. I'll definitely give him a generous present for Christmas. The Potter family's shampoo sounds good—a long-established brand you can trust!

"So you're the student coming to clean tonight. Pay attention: you only need to clean this area. Be careful while you work, and don't damage the books. Professor Snape has instructed that you are not to use magic. Hurry up and get started!" Madam Pince said sternly when she saw Jerry.

With Madam Pince watching him from nearby, Jerry had no choice but to buckle down and clean. Fortunately, the area was small, and there wasn't much dust in the library, so the work went quickly.

Two hours later, Jerry finished his work.

"Madam Pince, I've finished cleaning. Where are you?"

Jerry searched the library but couldn't find Madam Pince. Just as he was puzzling over it, footsteps approached. Thinking she had returned, he went forward, only to discover a figure in black robes with a purple turban on his head. It was Quirrell.

Startled, Jerry hurriedly hid behind a bookshelf. He certainly hadn't forgotten what was wrapped up beneath the back of Quirrell's turban.

Quirrell didn't notice Jerry. Instead, he headed straight for the Restricted Section deep inside the library.

Looking at the wide-open entrance to the Restricted Section, Jerry wanted to go in too, but he knew that entering now would be asking for death. He wondered what Quirrell was doing in the Restricted Section so late at night.

Before long, another set of footsteps approached. Jerry wasn't as rash this time and waited. Sure enough, a man's voice soon rang out. "Quirrell, where are you?"

"Keep your voice down!" Quirrell emerged from the Restricted Section and addressed the other figure.

"Relax. Dumbledore isn't at school today. Our people lured him away."

Ignoring the man's words, Quirrell asked, "Did you bring it? And can we make the exchange in the Forbidden Forest next time? Hogwarts Castle is too dangerous."

The man rejected Quirrell's request outright. "No. We can only make the exchange in the Hogwarts Library. Your master knows why." With that, he took a thumb-sized bottle from his coat pocket and handed it over.

"Is this the Soul Devouring Potion your organization brewed?" Quirrell asked, gazing at the gray potion in the bottle with fascination.

"Of course. But this potion is extremely precious. It takes thirteen tormented wizard souls to brew a tiny bottle like this, and it's only enough for your master to use once. If you want more, bring something to trade. And don't forget our agreement, you vermin." With that, he turned and left the library.

Quirrell continued to stare at the potion in fascination, paying no attention to the man's insults.

"Quirrell, remember: drink it at the most critical moment!" A hoarse voice came from the back of Quirrell's head.

"Understood, my master." With that, he left the library.