Hoare walked dejectedly back to his dormitory.
Well, today was really a waste of ti.
The cave was vast and empty, with no place to hide anything.
Hoare thought to himself, if the Philosopher's Stone isn't here, then it must still be in Dumbledore's possession.
If Dumbledore has it, it's not easy for to get it.
Later, Dumbledore will place the Philosopher's Stone inside the Mirror of Erised, but that mirror won't be moved to the room, which is as spacious as the cave, until after Christmas.
If I can't get it now, at least the Philosopher's Stone will be safe until Christmas.
So there's no need to rush.
Hoare rembered that there was still 0.1 of Voldemort in the Room of Requirent.
After all, the allure of immortality is too great for Voldemort. He beca like this for the sake of immortality, didn't he?
Dumbledore will hide the Philosopher's Stone in the Mirror of Erised, and that mirror won't be placed in the final room, the one as empty as a cave, until after Christmas!
Looks like I'll have to wait until after Christmas to get the Philosopher's Stone.
And I'll need to bring Harry.
After all, the Mirror of Erised has facial recognition, and Dumbledore set the unlocking thod to be Harry.
So only Harry can retrieve the Philosopher's Stone.
"Sigh..." Hoare sighed as he returned to his dormitory and flopped onto the soft mattress.
After a long while, a muffled "Finite" ca from his bed, lifting the curse on Millicent Bulstrode.
The next day.
Hoare held a bowl of porridge in his hands, a reward he received after bribing the house-elves with many Chinese dishes.
Now, delicious Chinese cuisine often appeared on the dining table.
But today felt a bit strange; he kept feeling that people around him were giving him odd looks.
Hoare usually didn't pay much attention to the crowd around him, but these people were really strange.
They looked at him with their eyes and whispered to each other.
Confused, he turned to Blaise, who was drinking pumpkin juice beside him.
"What's going on? Is sothing wrong with ?" Hoare took out a mirror and checked his face and outfit.
Everything seed fine.
Clean and tidy clothes, Henry William's head, nothing wrong.
Blaise gulped down his pumpkin juice in one go, earning a disgusted look from Draco.
With a yellow mustache around his mouth, Hoare handed him a handkerchief, which Blaise took and used to clean himself up in the mirror Hoare held.
Then he spoke, "They're probably talking about that rumor from yesterday."
Hoare was puzzled, "Rumor?"
Draco, sitting opposite, leaned in curiously, "I want to hear it too."
"It's the one about Professor Quirrell shouting at Henry, 'He's back! He's back!' That rumor." Blaise sneered, "It's obviously fake, I don't know why anyone would believe it."
Hoare could tell Blaise didn't believe it, but as for Draco, sitting across from them, Hoare guessed he might believe it, seeing as his face had already turned pale.
Amazing, Hoare thought.
Draco's skin was naturally pale, but now, Hoare could clearly see it turning grayish-white.
"You're exaggerating..." Hoare couldn't help but remark.
Draco's face remained ghostly pale, and like a stuck record, he slowly turned towards Hoare.
He swallowed hard, as if possessed by a zombie, and then Hoare heard Draco stiffly ask, "Are you... You-Know-Who's... man?"
At the ntion of "You-Know-Who," both Draco and Blaise shuddered.
Hoare wondered if he kept saying "You-Know-Who," would they keep shivering endlessly?
Of course, he wouldn't do that, as he still needed to earn money and couldn't afford to anger everyone.
"If I say no, would you believe ?" Hoare said helplessly.
And just like that, Draco's complexion returned to normal.
Henry's background, Draco had written to his father to investigate at the start of the term.
Very ordinary, very normal.
The only unusual thing might be that Henry's parents were very loyal followers.
The kind that had to hand over their wages every month.
They claid to have suffered severe persecution, which was why they moved their entire family to England.
Looking back now, Draco found the information full of suspicious points, and combined with the recent rumors, he couldn't help but think more.
But he suppressed his doubts; no matter who Henry was, for now, he was just a student at Hogwarts.
Draco didn't dare reveal too much, fearing it would bring disaster to his family.
He feigned a relaxed deanor, exhaling deeply, "I knew you weren't."
Then he buried himself in his al again, afraid that looking up would expose his true thoughts.
Hoare???
Draco, dear, your expression just now didn't look like disbelief!
Changing so quickly is even stranger, isn't it?
Hoare was at a loss for words.
At the dining table, everyone chatted about fun things while enjoying the food.
As Draco ate, he suddenly rembered sothing and looked up at Hoare, "By the way, do you still have any of that Radiant Potion you made before? I sent a bottle to my father, and he wants to work with you long-term."
He had already adjusted his mindset; as long as Henry was at Hogwarts, he needed to stock up on the Radiant Potion.
After all, the quality was excellent! Far better than any other apothecary!
When Draco said this, his face was full of the expression 'Kid, you've hit the jackpot! My father appreciates you!' which made Hoare's fists itch.
Hoare thought for a mont; he could still squeeze out so ti recently.
He hadn't negotiated well with Dumbledore before, who knew! Hogwarts' salary was paid by the term!
So as a teaching assistant, Hoare's salary would only be available at the end of the term.
But making potions was ti-consuming and labor-intensive, not really worth it. He decided to finish this order and then take a break.
"Sure. How many do you need?" Hoare calculated the ti he could spare.
"Make twenty bottles for now, and more later," Draco thought for a mont and said, "Oh, and make thirty bottles of each of the others, just this much for now. I'm afraid you won't be able to handle more."
Hoare decided to retract his previous thought of taking a break; Draco was a big client! What break? No way in this lifeti!
Before Hoare could extend his hand, Draco naturally handed over a palm-sized coin pouch, "Full paynt upfront, can you finish it in a week?"
Hoare held the coin pouch, feeling its wonderful weight, and nodded repeatedly.
Since the Squib Potion experints kept failing, he might as well set it aside for now and see if any other ideas ca up!
Hoare estimated in his mind, there were about 1000 Galleons in there!
[Ding]
[Available Galleons: 2508 Galleons, 6 Sickles, 23 Knuts]
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