If Draco was the male lead in the Chamber of Secrets incident, and Hermione the female lead who aided him, then Ron Weasley, who had been rescued by the two of them, would undoubtedly be a supporting character—and not a particularly glamorous one.
Yet most wizards had no idea that Ron Weasley’s role in all this was far from simple. The only reason his situation hadn’t become far worse was because it involved a name that could not be spoken.
Even if he had been ensnared by Voldemort’s Horcrux, it revealed that Ron’s will was not as strong as he believed. His poor vigilance made people question whether he truly came from a wizarding family at all.
And this was precisely the secret Ron Weasley never wanted anyone else to know...
“Ron, are you okay?”
“No, I’m fine. Just… not feeling great.”
“Don’t think too much about it, Ron. That wasn’t your fault. It was that person—he controlled your body. I know you’d never do those things. I know you too well!”
“Yeah... I know. Thanks, Harry.”
Looking at Ron, who still seemed downcast, Harry Potter, as his best friend, couldn’t help worrying about him. After all, Harry was one of the few who knew Ron had been under Voldemort’s control.
But it seemed Ron still hadn’t come to terms with it, even though he had clearly been used. What Harry didn’t know, however, was that Voldemort hadn’t lied at the time. Everything he had told Draco was true.
Whether it was Ron Weasley’s deepest secrets or the openness of his soul, they were all his most genuine thoughts...
Seeing Ron unchanged despite his comfort, Harry could only turn to Hermione for help.
Hermione had always been the smartest among them—surely she’d know what to do.
Yet she didn’t seem the least bit concerned about Ron Weasley’s state of mind...
“Hermione, you’ve been buried in so many books. Did you run into some problem? Exams only just ended, didn’t they?”
If Harry had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed how often Hermione had been running to the library lately, and how the tables in the common room were constantly piled high with magical texts.
In fact, in the days leading up to the end of the Christmas holidays, Hermione had spent nearly all her time drowning herself in books, a strange way to spend such a rare break.
Harry hadn’t seen her this obsessed in a long time.
If he remembered correctly, the last time had been the year before, when she discovered her grades had fallen behind Draco’s—and she had spent an entire week glued to her books...
“Problem? Harry, don’t you want to know what a Horcrux is?”
“So that’s what you’ve been after. Well, did you find it?”
“No... I’ve gone through most of the books, but not a single one mentions Horcruxes. If it weren’t for what Dumbledore said, I’d think they didn’t exist at all.”
Rubbing her sore eyes, Hermione shut the book in resignation, her expression sinking. After all, spending so much effort only to come up empty-handed was hardly satisfying.
And...
If he finds out, he’ll just think I’m an idiot again, won’t he?
Hermione’s tired brown eyes drifted to the fireplace, her thoughts elsewhere.
If I ask him, I could probably get the right answer...
Harry, meanwhile, didn’t notice Hermione’s distraction, nor did he see Ron’s uneasy expression as he brooded over something else. Instead, Harry’s curiosity had been piqued by the mention of Horcruxes.
“What about the Restricted Section? Did you try looking there? I’d bet it’s hidden in there.”
“The Restricted Section... That’s impossible. We’d never get the professors’ permission.”
“Ah, right, I almost forgot. That stupid, narcissistic Lockhart isn’t our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor anymore. If he were still here, it’d be much easier.”
“...”
Stupid?
Hermione pressed her lips together tightly at Harry’s words, resisting the urge to say what she knew.
If Harry had seen Lockhart’s other side, he would never speak of him like that...
...
Yes.
Before the Christmas holidays ended, Lockhart had vanished from Hogwarts. The explanation from the other professors was that he had a new book coming out and couldn’t devote his energy to teaching, so he resigned from his post as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
But few paid it much mind. The position was cursed, after all—no professor ever lasted more than a year. Lockhart’s departure was merely a few months early.
So while the news was surprising, it quickly faded from everyone’s thoughts...
As for the Slytherins, they cared even less about someone they regarded as a clown. They had far more important matters at hand.
“This time, there won’t be any more accidents, right?”
“Relax, boss lady. Crabbe and I have been keeping a close eye on Potter. No way things turn around again.”
“Good!”
Pansy’s tone carried a mix of excitement and satisfaction, her expression restless, as if she couldn’t wait for time to move faster.
Her excitement came from the space around them, draped entirely in green and silver. The first thing one noticed was the enormous Slytherin banner with its serpent emblem hanging from the wall.
Every Slytherin seated at their table sat tall, heads held high, all eyes locked on the pale-golden figure at the very front. Even the young wizards at the other house tables watched him with complex expressions.
Many couldn’t help but think that during these seven years, no matter how talented they were, they would always be overshadowed by his brilliance.
For he was not only the top student of his year, but also the captain who had once again led his team to victory in the Quidditch Cup—and the key figure who had slain the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.
That was the true Slytherin, Draco Malfoy...