The next morning, in the Great Hall.
The enchanted ceiling was cloudless, and the aroma of breakfast drifted through the air.
Harry left the Gryffindor table carrying a basket of soup dumplings.
Ron and Hermione's eyes were glued to his back.
The other members of the Detective Club also pretended to chat casually and drink pumpkin juice.
But out of the corners of their eyes, every one of them was watching the same direction.
Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy had already noticed the commotion among the Gryffindors.
He saw Harry Potter.
His fated rival.
Walking straight toward him with a tray.
Draco's heart gave a thud, then began racing uncontrollably.
His hand instinctively reached for his wand.
He had no idea what Harry wanted.
The next second, Harry Potter stopped beside Malfoy.
The surrounding Slytherins put down their knives and forks, their eyes lighting up with excitement at the prospect of a show.
Harry ignored their looks.
He simply looked calmly at Malfoy and lowered his voice, his tone like someone announcing a board resolution:
"Mr. Malfoy, the club has an assignment concerning the theft from Professor Snape."
"We've run into trouble. He's your Head of House, so it would be much easier for you to ask him than for us."
Malfoy was stunned.
He had rehearsed countless openings in his head.
A provocation? A duel? Or mockery?!
But never this.
His bewilderment lasted only a second.
Then wild delight and contempt washed over his face.
To make the most of this glorious moment, he shot to his feet.
Raising his voice, he announced loudly in a theatrical tone, as though afraid the entire hall might not hear:
"Oh, listen! Everyone, come and hear who this is!"
"Isn't this our famous Chosen One, the head of the Charon