A fog of questions about the fourth-floor corridor had never left Harry Potter’s mind.
What exactly was hidden in that corridor?
He thought of the massive dog standing guard there, of the injuries Snape had carried after the troll attack, and of the professor’s strange attitude toward him.
Harry felt as though he almost understood something, yet he still could not be completely certain.
The troll incident had given every witch and wizard at Hogwarts a bad scare.
Gryffindor’s brave young wizards had shone brightly during the whole affair.
“None of us expected Ron to do that.
He used the Levitation Charm and took the troll down in one go.
Professor McGonagall gave our house so many points for it.” Harry’s excitement colored the very air around him as he spoke.
Vincent had not been involved at all.
He had only heard the thrilling story from Harry’s mouth.
They belonged to different houses and did not see each other often—only when they happened to meet in the library.
Previously Harry had shared his suspicions with him.
Now there was a new addition: the troll.
Harry poured out every thought and conjecture.
At first Vincent had treated it as nothing more than idle entertainment.
Now, with one sentence pushing into the next, he roughly understood what Harry wanted to do.
“You’ve already told me three times, Harry.
Ron was indeed brave.
He didn’t bring shame to Gryffindor’s name.
All of you are impressive for uncovering so many clues.” Vincent’s words carried no rise or fall in tone.
They sounded like praise, yet held not the slightest emotion.
The cool delivery landed on Harry like a bucket of cold water.
Harry knew him well enough by now to understand the real meaning, but he still refused to give up.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” Harry’s voice was probing.
Maybe this time he would receive the answer he hoped for.
Vincent did not understand Harry’s anxiety.
He asked in return, “What exactly can you do?” First-year witches and wizards were already doing well if they managed to protect themselves.
They had only just stepped through the gates of the magical world.
When faced with profound magic and dangerous challenges they still looked young and powerless.
What use could they possibly be?
That was his private opinion.
Vincent held it back.
Pouring cold water any more thoroughly would be unnecessary.
His attitude already made his thoughts clear enough; there was no need to say anything that would further upset people.
He was, in fact, a very considerate person.
Harry scratched his head and said urgently, “Not ‘you.’ Us.
Vincent, you’ll think of a way with us, right?” The blunt request did not receive the response he had imagined.
Vincent shook his head.
“My solution is—don’t get involved at all.
Isn’t Dumbledore supposed to be the greatest white wizard?
He’ll handle everything.” His tone was calm and firm.
He had no desire to wade into this kind of trouble.
Ron and Hermione sat two seats behind Harry.
The three of them had come together.
Harry had gone first as the vanguard.
If Vincent showed any willingness to act with them, the other two would immediately move closer and form a four-person group.
If Vincent refused, letting only Harry talk with him would keep the invitation from looking too formal.
Only children would think a three-person invitation looked overly solemn.
At their age, nothing they did ever seemed truly serious—only somewhat childish and amusing.
The trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione could not help feeling a little deflated after hearing Vincent’s answer.
They had come full of hope to discuss strategy with him.
None of them had expected this reply.
Hermione sighed helplessly.
She had spent a great deal of time in the library, leafing through many books in the hope of finding even a single thread connected to the secret of the fourth-floor corridor.
All that effort now seemed wasted.
The library’s collection was vast as the sea, yet records concerning the fourth-floor corridor were vanishingly few.
Their clues were simply too scarce—like searching for a needle in the ocean.
Of course there would be none.
Before this year the fourth-floor corridor had held nothing at all.
Why would the library record it?
Looking at their dejected faces, Vincent still offered a small constructive suggestion.
“If the environment can’t give you new clues, then you have to learn to get them from people.
Whoever is most likely to know something about the three-headed dog—that person is your target.” As he said it, Vincent still felt a touch of helplessness.
How long had he known Harry?
He had always believed he had taught the boy many methods and much knowledge.
Looking at him now, Harry was still far too inexperienced.
He needed more practical experience to grow.
Sometimes Vincent himself did not understand why he treated Harry differently.
The sense of familiarity Harry produced in him felt completely inexplicable.
Their lives had never overlapped in any way.
Harry’s eyes lit up at once.
Understanding dawned.
“Hagrid!” he whispered excitedly.
When they first met, Hagrid had already said he paid close attention to magical creatures.
If anyone wanted information related to magical animals, going to Hagrid was the right choice.
The three young Gryffindors immediately decided to find him.
Vincent did not involve himself in the matter.
He simply gathered quite a bit of information from other places.
Draco Malfoy—the arrogant pure-blood wizard who saw nothing but himself.
Vincent watched Malfoy’s swaggering manner and carefully kept his own brows from drawing together.
He disliked every person who strutted in front of him.
This time, however, his goal was to make friends with Draco Malfoy.
He was actually quite good at making friends.
The only Waterloo so far had been Theodore Nott.
Since the first attempt had failed, perhaps he should try a more roundabout approach—after he finished talking with Malfoy.
Sunlight, white clouds, and green grass.
Beneath the castle’s towers a few Slytherins were clustered together talking.
Vincent walked forward with a smile and spoke in a thoroughly polite tone.
“Mr.
Malfoy.
I’ve long heard of your name.
I’ve always been told you’re one of the finest students in Slytherin.” They had crossed paths before, though they had not spoken again since entering Hogwarts.
Building on that earlier acquaintance made the present conversation feel less abrupt.
Vincent slipped on a mask of extremely false praise.
He knew exactly how to handle this type of person.
First draw close, gradually let the other realize his own ability, then slowly reverse the positions of offense and defense.
Vincent was also curious why he was so practiced at this sort of thing.
If he had to name a reason, perhaps the orphanage had taught him more than he realized.
When Draco saw an unfamiliar wizard who was not even from his own house, he had not intended to speak with him.
The last time they met he had assumed the boy came from some pure-blood family that simply disliked socializing.
Instead he turned out to be from the Muggle world and had been Sorted into Ravenclaw—sounded dull.
But the way this person spoke was genuinely pleasant.
Draco lifted his chin slightly and said with satisfaction, “Of course.
I’m the heir of the Malfoy family.
Naturally I’m different from the rest.
What, only noticing now?
Pity you aren’t in Slytherin.
Otherwise you might have had the chance to follow me.” His tone dripped with arrogance.
Beside him, Goyle and Crabbe seemed surprised that anyone could flatter Draco even more skillfully than they did.
The two stocky boys looked a little unhappy at Vincent’s show of goodwill, but since Draco appeared interested they did not dare say anything.
Out of sight, out of mind.
They simply stepped back a few paces so that only by deliberately listening could they hear the conversation, and when they stopped paying attention they would not be disturbed.
Seeing how tactful the two young wizards beside Draco were, Vincent had not expected the day to go so smoothly.
He continued to Draco, “I’ve heard you also study magical creatures.
I wonder whether you’ve ever heard of a three-headed dog?” He had clearly said he would not involve himself in Harry’s business—yet after asking about the three-headed dog, Vincent almost regretted it.
He should have asked something more important, such as Theodore.
Malfoy frowned.
He had not expected the first question to be about a three-headed dog.
Did Slytherin sound like a house that had anything to do with magical creatures?
He should have gone looking for Hufflepuffs.
Still, this was Vincent Riddle.
Vincent usually kept a low profile at Hogwarts, yet among the professors almost every one of them praised him highly, calling him an extremely diligent and studious student—more favorably than even Hermione Granger of Gryffindor.
Now the boy had run into a problem he could not solve and had come to ask him.
Draco could not have felt more pleased.
He thought for a moment and realized he actually did know something about three-headed dogs.
He cleared his throat lightly.
“A three-headed dog?
Of course I know.
It’s an extremely dangerous magical creature.
But I wouldn’t go provoking one the way those stupid Gryffindors would.” He was quite happy inside, yet he still put on a disdainful front.
Vincent smiled.
Malfoy’s pretense was almost completely ineffective in his eyes.
He knew how to deal with spoiled children.
Adopting a tone even more false than Malfoy’s, he said, “Draco, you’re every bit as wise as I imagined.
I also think those Gryffindors are far too reckless.
Still, I’m curious—how did you come to know about that three-headed dog?” Malfoy hesitated, but the expression on Vincent’s face looked genuinely earnest.
“I read about it in a book.
The Malfoy family has an entire room the size of a library.
It’s no worse than Hogwarts.
My father loves collecting ancient texts of every kind.” Vincent nodded.
“I see.
Your father is truly far-sighted.
Books are precious treasures.” Hearing Vincent’s words, Draco felt even more pleased.
He decided Vincent was a sensible person, not annoying like those Gryffindors.
His attitude toward Vincent softened a little.
He even failed to notice that Vincent had already switched from addressing him as “Malfoy” to “Draco.” “You’re a lot more sensible than the last time we met.” “Perhaps because after maturing a little I realized that more outstanding people were right beside me all along.” Vincent still did not know how close Draco and Theodore were.
He considered how to find a suitable opening to steer the conversation toward Theodore.