Lucius blinked, extending both hands with a look of reverence. “I’d like to shake your hand, may I? Shaking hands with the greatest White Wizard of this century—how many people dream of such fortune!”
True to his reputation, Dumbledore remained unfazed even when faced with a fan (fake) batting starry eyes and asking for a handshake. He simply smiled kindly yet helplessly. “Child, at my age, I no longer pursue such vanity. Are you certain you only wish to shake hands?”
And not ask for something else—like comprehensive protection or benefits? Dumbledore looked at the expectant Lucius, momentarily unable to discern what was truly going on in the child’s mind.
Was it really just pure admiration for an old man like him, a desire for a moment of closeness?
“Yes, Professor Dumbledore.” Lucius nodded, inwardly cheering wildly: Wow~ This is the great White Wizard even old Voldemort fears in Harry Potter! The chance to freeload has finally arrived—hoping for something big, a lottery draw, a lottery draw!
I’m so excited! (≧≦)/
A pale, warm, aged hand slowly extended. Lucius gleefully grasped it tightly with both hands, giving it a gentle shake, unable to suppress the smile on her face. “Thank you, I’m very happy.”
Happy you gave me a chance to freeload (＞﹏＜)
“Ding ding~” The familiar, pleasant chime of the System sounded, and the golden wheel spun rapidly once more before vanishing in an instant. “Gringotts Vault 819 Golden Key, new heir—Lusa Riddle!”
It was actually a golden key? Did that mean she had become a VIP at Gringotts, about to possess a small vault filled with golden Galleons?
Lucius wore the expression of an utterly infatuated fangirl on the surface, while inwardly, waves of excitement surged. Her eyes sparkled with a greenish gleam as she looked at Dumbledore—truly worthy of being Santa Claus, offering such a huge surprise right from the start!
“Professor, I think I should leave now. Thank you very much.”
Lucius smiled and bowed, then exited the Headmaster’s office under Dumbledore’s slightly stunned yet affectionate gaze. Her right hand casually slipped into her uniform pocket, fingers pinching the hard-textured keychain, and she couldn’t help but take a deep breath of air.
So fresh, so wonderful—today must be her lucky day! (^ω^)
………
“Severus, that child is beyond my expectations.”
Dumbledore sat down, picked up a cup of sweet Pumpkin Juice, took a sip, and digested the series of information he had just heard. He truly hadn’t expected this little Riddle to be so candid, placing such trust in him.
A slender hand lifted the outer purple curtain, and Severus Snape, clad in black robes, emerged expressionlessly from the inner room. Though his face remained icy, a closer look revealed a subtle hint of surprise.
“Clever, sharp, knows how to seek advantage and avoid harm, assesses situations—a standard Slytherin!” Professor Snape casually found a chair to sit in, offering his unrestrained assessment.
Although that Miss Riddle had expressed fondness and respect for him as a professor, her smooth-talking, flattering behavior wasn’t enough to earn his special regard.
If the corners of his mouth hadn’t slightly twitched upward, someone might have believed his nonsense. (￣o￣) . z Z
“She is also very brave and has a sense of justice, Severus, you must admit that.”
Dumbledore glanced at Snape and said firmly that in this regard, she was worlds apart from Tom Riddle.
“Oh, as her professor, I can only say that Lusa Riddle is a decent student, at least she doesn’t constantly infuriate her professors like those foolish lions.”
Professor Snape lightly tapped the table with his pale fingertips, offering rare and gentle praise for his star student while taking a jab at the detestable Gryffindors.
“But that child Quirrell has truly disappointed me.” Dumbledore sighed. Although he had his suspicions, he hadn’t imagined anything so extreme. Who could have guessed that Voldemort would be parasitizing the back of a professor’s head?
If not for Lusa’s revelation, even someone as shrewd as Snape would never have imagined that his once-mighty “former master” would reappear in such a grotesque and terrifying manner.
“Could what she said about the Horcrux be true?” Professor Snape instinctively stroked his chin, a flicker of deep thought passing through his eyes, his tone somewhat uncertain.
But if it were being guarded by Bellatrix, it was indeed possible. After all, that woman’s worship of the Dark Lord was so fanatical, she was practically insane.
“Most likely true, Severus. I’ll leave this matter to you.”
“Hah, Dumbledore, you really do trust me!” Professor Snape spared no effort in his sarcasm. He should have expected this outcome. Although it indirectly affirmed his capabilities, he couldn’t shake an intensely unpleasant feeling. →_→
If Lusa could read Snape’s thoughts, she would eagerly tell him: My poor professor, you’re being manipulated! You’re the Head of Slytherin and the Potions professor, yet you also have to act as a spy and an errand boy—all for a single salary. Dumbledore is far too shrewd, exploiting your love and guilt for Lily Evans.
………
After selling out her cheap father, Lusa felt no remorse whatsoever. She continued being her model student, busily shuttling between three points every day, absorbing all sorts of wondrous knowledge like a massive, damp sponge.
Lusa also unexpectedly noticed: Professor Snape seemed to look at her with a tiny bit more warmth in his eyes. Oh, it must be her imagination.
She had assumed that after she revealed the script, Professor Quirrell and old Voldemort would be swiftly apprehended, and Harry Potter and the others would naturally face no life-threatening danger. Although they were protected by plot armor and likely wouldn’t come to harm, it would be best if they avoided injury and a trip to the Hospital Wing.
But Harry was still injured. At the same time, rumors spread that Quirrell had suffered a terrorist attack and was rushed to St. Mungo’s for emergency treatment, his fate unknown. Even if he survived, he likely wouldn’t recover.
As for Voldemort, judging by the whims of the plot, he had probably escaped and was lurking in some dark corner.
Thinking of that boy who lived, Harry Potter, Lusa, filled with immense sympathy, brought carefully prepared gifts to visit him. After all, she had managed to swindle 100 Galleons from Harry.
She understood the principle of repaying kindness.
“Harry, are you alright?” In the quiet, pale-white hospital room, Lucius stepped forward and called out softly. She had arrived at just the right time—two waves of Harry’s friends, classmates, and admirers had already come and gone. Gifts piled high on the bedside table, forming a towering pagoda. On the bright, colorful wrapping paper, gold foil shimmered with a faint glow.
Harry, lying in bed, felt his eyelids twitch involuntarily. He wasn’t actually asleep—he had only been trying to avoid the relentless stream of enthusiastic greetings and excessive concern. Opening his eyes, he saw the dark-haired girl smiling at him and couldn’t help but stare blankly, looking a bit silly, like a dopey, adorable goose.
“Didn’t expect it to be me, right?” Lucius wasn’t offended, just gave a playful smile as she placed her gift by Harry’s bedside. “I’m just here to visit a friend, not some savior or little hero.”
Fame—for some, it’s a source of longing and glory, but as the saying goes: one man’s poison is another man’s treasure. For others, it might be a burden and a tiresome ordeal. Harry likely belonged to the latter group.
“Thank you, Lucius.” Harry blushed with embarrassment, deeply ashamed of his past distance and misunderstandings. He had thought that once Lucius entered Slytherin, she would turn bad, gradually forget him, and even held excessive prejudice against Professor Snape. Though the professor still seemed to target him and was quite annoying, at least he wasn’t the kind of villain Harry had imagined.
Though his face had filled out a bit like a kitten’s, Harry’s shy, blushing demeanor hadn’t changed at all. Lucius’s thoughts drifted as she took out the cartoon folding card she had made, slowly unfolding it. The Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck, sketched with crayons, danced vividly as if breakdancing, their mouths chattering away, inexplicably comical and funny.
“Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck? It feels like watching a cartoon.”
Harry sat up straight, exclaiming in surprise. He stared in astonishment at Lucius, who wore an expression that seemed to say, “How about that? I’m pretty amazing, right?” He couldn’t help but ask, “Goodness, did you cast a spell on the images? This is incredible!”
Of course! Lucius nodded proudly. Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck were her casual creations, amateur drawings. Though they weren’t as lifelike as those by professional artists, they were still quite good overall.
“Harry, look at this.” Lucius folded the card and unfolded it again. The previously dancing Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck had vanished. In their place, the clean white surface now displayed a tranquil lake, golden sunlight, star-like flowers, babbling streams, birdsong, and floral scents. Listening to the smooth, tinkling sounds, it felt as if one were truly there, forgetting one existed in another space.
“When you can’t sleep, you can listen to this sound—it helps with sleep.” Lucius explained, very satisfied to see Harry’s surprised and touched expression. Though it had cost her quite a bit of magical energy, it was worth it.
“How did you do this? This is amazing.” Harry was dumbfounded, his gaze full of admiration as he looked at Lucius. Oh, don’t look at me like that—I’ll get proud! (＞﹏＜)
“As long as you like it. It just has some rather intricate magic added to it.”
Lucius glossed over the details and, thinking of Harry’s many admirers, couldn’t resist teasing him, “I suppose this is better than the delicious pastries those Hufflepuff girls keep sending you. I bet your stomach is stuffed to the brim by now. Ah, well, what can you expect when Harry Potter is such a heartthrob!”
“Oh, Lucius, please don’t remind me—my stomach is already churning again!”
Harry wore a pained expression, his face scrunched up like a steamed bun, and shot Lucius a reproachful glare.
Lucius shrugged: A boy this popular, especially one as bad at saying no as our dear Harry, probably won’t be craving sweets for a while (￣▽￣)