The Episode That Shattered Old Voldy's Worldview

Deep in Albania's dark forest, rotting fallen leaves squelched beneath Peter Pettigrew's feet.

Hunched over, he crawled into a hollow oak tree that had been struck by lightning. With trembling fingers, he drew a bronze mirror inlaid with a serpent pattern from his robes.

As an eerie green light spread across the mirror, the mark the Dark Lord had bestowed upon the place where Peter's finger had been severed began to ache, searing his soul more deeply than any magical contract.

"M-master..." Peter's voice was fearful and fawning. "There's news from Hogwarts."

The mist in the bronze mirror twisted and gathered, gradually forming a snake-like face as pale as wax.

Voldemort's red eyes lit up in the darkness. "Speak."

"Sirius Black has appeared at Hogwarts! He's now head of Gryffindor!" Peter swallowed and spoke rapidly. "He and Harry Potter were reunited today, right in Dumbledore's office-"

"Very good." Voldemort's forked tongue flicked over his lipless mouth. "Find a chance to kill Potter and him."

Peter's face scrunched up. "Th-that might not be easy. Black said he was going to form an alliance with Snape..."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Severus Snape? My most loyal Death Eater? Forming an alliance with him against me?"

"Not against you!" Peter broke into an anxious sweat and bit his tongue with his rat-like front teeth. "It's..."

"Speak!"

"The 'alliance to protect Harry Potter from being lured into a premature romance by bad boys'!" Peter squeezed his eyes shut and blurted it all out in one breath.

The image in the mirror suddenly froze.

Voldemort's expression congealed in an absurd tableau—his narrow nostrils flared, his red eyes bulged, and even his protruding forked tongue hung motionless in midair.

Outside the oak tree, the hoot of a night owl suddenly became remarkably clear.

"...What?" After a full minute of silence, Voldemort mechanically repeated the word.

Peter summoned the courage to open his eyes. "Well... young Master Draco Malfoy is courting Miss Potter. He gave her a present and roses, and Black and Snape are going to join forces to stop him... Besides him, the Weasley twins and Hermione Granger also seem to be on the list."

The bronze mirror creaked and cracked under the strain.

Voldemort's voice held a rare note of hesitation. "Severus agreed?"

"Although he hasn't given a formal answer yet... just last week, Snape took fifty points from Slytherin because Malfoy boldly pursued Harry Potter!"

Voldemort's fingertips visibly twitched outside the mirror.

"What about that Basilisk?" Sensing that his brain might crash if he listened any longer, Voldemort, who had also grown stronger after going bald, changed the subject. His voice sounded as though it had been forced through clenched teeth. "The one I sent you to keep watch on."

It was also the only one at Hogwarts.

Peter hunched his shoulders. "It... er... it's Miss Potter's bracelet now..."

"..."

The bronze mirror suddenly went completely black.

It wasn't the blackness of a connection deliberately cut off, but the kind that came from being blasted apart by some unspeakable mental shock.

Peter shook the mirror desperately. After a long while, Voldemort finally instructed him, "Go back and keep watching them. Tell me if anything happens."

As Peter turned back into a rat and fled the hollow tree, the last thing he heard from the mirror was a bang, as though some table had met an unfortunate end.

Fine rain pierced the dense forest, dampening his sparse fur.

He decided not to report one unimportant piece of news for the time being, one that might cause his master to break down even further: Ginny Weasley had secretly slipped homemade chocolates into Harry's schoolbag that day, with hearts drawn on the wrapping.

In the days leading up to Hogsmeade week, Draco Malfoy felt as though someone had cursed him.

To give a few examples.

In Transfiguration, he had only just sauntered over to Harry's seat, pretending to be casual, and his fingers hadn't even touched the book on her desk when Professor Black, who had appeared in the classroom for some reason, insisted on pulling him aside to ask some seemingly unnecessary questions about Slytherin.

If he refused, Professor Black would sigh and say, as though talking to himself, that he really wasn't popular with the students at all, drawing the anger of a group of girls upon Draco.

In Potions Class, he deliberately chose a cauldron station diagonally across from Harry's. Just as he was about to give Harry a flawless smile, the dungeon door suddenly swung open.

Snape walked up in front of him, blocking his view. "Malfoy, change places."

Draco's face twisted awkwardly. "But, Professor..."

"I said, change places."

Cowling before Snape's oppressive authority, Draco had no choice but to obediently change places.

There were many more incidents like these, and their direct result was essentially that Draco not only had no chance to speak to Harry, but also encountered plenty of obstacles, both open and covert.

"They're definitely doing it on purpose!" Draco sprawled on a dark green sofa in the Slytherin Common Room, looking aggrieved and indignant, as though he had suffered an enormous injustice. "How could it be such a coincidence every single class?"

Crabbe had just opened his mouth. "Actually, the prof-"

Goyle abruptly stuffed a Chocolate Cauldron Cake into his mouth. "Young master, the professors have no reason to interfere with students dating!"

Cream spurted from Crabbe's nostrils.

Draco frowned. "That's true. My parents started dating when they were students too."

Goyle thought quickly. "Think about it. If a professor really objected, couldn't they just put you in detention?"

He kicked Crabbe. "Right?"

"Mmph!" Crabbe nodded frantically, his face smeared with cream.

Draco smacked his lips, still somewhat unconvinced. "You mean... these really were just coincidences?"

"Of course!"

Goyle, clever for once, slapped his own thigh hard. "Professor Snape doesn't even know you like Potter!"

That did make sense...

After thinking for a moment, Draco sat up straight and turned his attention to something else. "Then I'll confess to her during Hogsmeade week! Right there in the little square. You two go prepare some enchanted roses that sing love songs, or something like that. Anything will do, as long as you set up a romantic scene for me!"

Goyle and Crabbe: ...?

"Young master."

After exchanging a glance with Goyle, Crabbe spoke under his gaze, struggling to swallow the cake. "Would you like to... practice your confession first?"

"Practice?" Draco scoffed and pulled a roll of parchment from his robes with immense pride. "I wrote seventeen versions! Everything from romantic to realistic!"

The moment the parchment unrolled, Goyle saw the first line: "Your eyes intoxicate me more than the shimmering waters of the Black Lake." He silently buried his face in his hands.

...If he were Potter, a confession like that might make him want to die.