The next few weeks passed relatively peacefully. However, even Harry and Neville hadn't seen Professor Dumbledore in the castle anymore, which meant he was probably away in other places during this time. From the Daily Prophet, they learned that Mr. Weasley had carried out a second search of Malfoy Manor. The report stated, "The second search of this Death Eater's residence seemingly yielded no results. However, Arthur Weasley, the director of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, conducted this operation with a search warrant personally issued by Minister for Magic, James Potter. In an interview, the Minister said that this search was carried out based on intelligence secretly revealed by someone and refused to comment further."

"I wrote to Dad again later and told him what I heard on the train," Harry said, leaning back in his chair after Hermione finished reading. "But it's not completely fruitless. If the thing he wants to fix isn't at his home, then he must have brought it to Hogwarts —"

"That's impossible, Harry," Hermione said in an almost helpless tone. "We were all inspected when we entered the school."

"Hmm?" I blinked in confusion. "What inspection?"

"Oh, right. You two were late," Hermione folded the newspaper and put it aside. "When all the students entered the Entrance Hall, Filch poked us all over with a Secrecy Sensor. All Dark magic items would be searched out. I remember Crabbe had a dried human head confiscated. So Malfoy couldn't have smuggled any dangerous items into Hogwarts."

"What about owls?" Harry pressed. "Get his mother to send the thing in —"

"All the owls were also inspected. That's what Filch said at the time," Hermione clearly thought Harry was being overly stubborn about this and gave me a look that said, "Help me persuade him." But I was still lost in my own thoughts. In fact, for a moment, I thought the "someone" in the report might be my dad. But given that the probability of him actively exchanging information with Mr. Potter was about the same as the probability of You-Know-Who singing "Love and Peace" in the Ministry of Magic, this guess seemed ridiculous.

My investigation hadn't made any progress either. I had borrowed Colin Creevey's camera before. My idea was simple: as long as Draco returned the book to the library, I could find the book by comparing the photos and then figure out what he was researching. But after several weeks, all I got was a stack of identical photos of the bookshelves. And because I was always hanging around there, Madam Pince suspected that I wanted to sneak into the Restricted Section and gave me many dirty looks.

I even felt that I didn't need the camera anymore. I seemed to have memorized the titles and positions of all the books on that bookshelf. One day, after another fruitless attempt, I dejectedly shook the still-wet photos and stuffed the camera into my schoolbag. Tomorrow was the first trip to Hogsmeade this semester. Even though the howling wind outside the window indicated that the weather wouldn't be any better tomorrow, there were still sporadic whispers of excitement in the library — after all, there had been rumors since the start of the term that "for safety reasons, all trips to Hogsmeade this academic year had been canceled."

Just as I was about to return to Gryffindor Tower, in a bad mood and wanting to warm my cold fingers by the fireplace, I heard someone approaching. The familiar footsteps, which I could recognize immediately, made me perk up. I tiptoed and hid in the narrow gap between the end of the bookshelf and the wall, which was just wide enough for one person to pass through. This place was just out of the light and formed a shadow.

The footsteps gradually came closer, and I held my breath. My hope that Draco would just put down the book and leave was dashed. He started walking towards where I was hiding at an extremely slow pace. But I didn't think he had found me because I heard the very faint sound of his fingers sliding across the book spines. Was he planning to borrow a new book?

I could already see his shadow on the ground approaching the place where I was hiding. At this moment, getting up abruptly or running backward would surely give me away. But if I remained where I was, it would be all too easy for him to spot me when he took a few more steps. Just as I was clenching my wand tightly, caught in a mental struggle, he suddenly halted. However, I didn't hear the sound of any book being placed down. I remained rigidly hidden in the shadow, watching his motionless shadow with his hand still raised. All I could hear was my heartbeat accelerating rapidly.

After a few seconds or so, he turned and left. Only after making sure that the sound of his footsteps had completely faded away did I turn around and quietly make my way back to my seat from another direction. Before the library closed, I returned to the bookshelf once more and confirmed that he hadn't returned any books just now. Standing there, I let out a long breath, feeling a faint throbbing pain in my temple. Was it that he simply didn't intend to return the book, or had he noticed someone hiding nearby during that brief pause?

The next day, as expected, the weather was abysmal. The howling wind, carrying sleet, lashed against the windows. The fog that had condensed into droplets trickled down the glass, leaving long streaks. The girls in the dormitory, however, weren't dampened by the weather and continued to chatter animatedly about where to meet their friends later and which stores in Hogsmeade to visit and what to buy.

"I'm not as optimistic as you are," Hermione furrowed her brow after hearing what I had to say. "If Malfoy is caught using a hex in the library by Madam Pince, he'll be in deep trouble. After all, he's still a prefect."

"So, you think he noticed someone was hiding there?" I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me.

"Why do you and Harry both think he has some secret plan?" I could tell that Hermione was refraining from getting angry out of consideration for our friendship. She had been growing increasingly impatient with Harry's constant rambling these days. "And to be honest, do you really think your dad wouldn't notice Malfoy's sneaky actions? Even if he somehow managed to deceive Professor Snape, I doubt he could pull the wool over Dumbledore's eyes."

I wanted to argue with her, but I had to admit that what she said made sense. So, I just slumped and absentmindedly scratched at the pillow with my fingers.

"Even if you tell Harry about this, he won't be able to figure anything out. As long as it's not a book from the Restricted Section, it can be borrowed freely. I actually thought that book on the Unplottable Expansion Charm you brought back was quite fascinating," Hermione said shrewdly, seeing through my thoughts. "And you sneaking around to follow Malfoy all by yourself—"

"I didn't deliberately sneak around—"

"Iris," Hermione shook her head. "You chose to tell me instead of Harry right away, which shows that you're aware Harry might be bothered by this."

She had hit the mark precisely. I opened my mouth but remained speechless for a long while. Having persuaded me, Hermione, in an uncharacteristically good mood, reached out and vigorously ruffled my face until I wriggled into the covers, giggling from the ticklish sensation. Since I couldn't find my gloves, she, already fully dressed, headed out first to have breakfast with the boys. Today, everyone left earlier than usual because they had to line up for Filch's inspection before going to Hogsmeade.

Just as I gave up searching for my gloves and, while tying my scarf, rushed towards the Great Hall to meet them, I unexpectedly encountered Professor Dumbledore in the corridor. He was still wearing his traveling cloak and seemed to have just returned from outside the school. There were small droplets on his long beard, formed from melted snowflakes.

"Good morning, Miss Iris," he called out to me, and with a kind smile, he handed me two tightly rolled-up slips of paper. "Could you please give these to Harry and Neville for me? Thank you very much."

"Certainly, Professor," I said, carefully taking them.

"How have you been lately?" Dumbledore asked in a casual tone.

I looked up, and the moment I met his bright blue eyes behind the half - moon glasses, I felt a sense of deja vu, as if my soul was being scrutinized.

"I'm doing fine, Professor," I replied frankly. "Sometimes, I can't help but worry about my mother."

He let out a soft sigh and gently patted my shoulder with his good hand. "Off you go."

"Dumbledore said he'll resume our classes on Monday," I informed Harry and Neville after giving them the parchment. They both looked delighted. Harry turned to Neville and asked, "Coming with us to Hogsmeade later?"

"Oh, Luna said this weather is perfect for catching some... something," Neville scratched his head. "I've already promised her."

Filch's Dark Magic detection had the students in the queue complaining bitterly. With the morning rapidly slipping away, he was still huffing and puffing as he poked the long - needle - like detector all over each person. Every time the detector made even the slightest sound, his thunderous roars would resound throughout the entire hall. Mrs. Norris sat primly beside him, wrapping her tail around her feet and leisurely licking one of her paws, and her nonchalant demeanor only added to everyone's annoyance. Ron was jabbed several times viciously by Filch for asking, "What's the harm in taking Dark magic items out? Why don't you check the things we'll bring back from Hogsmeade later?" He was still grimacing and rubbing his ribs through his thick sweater long after they had started walking.

When Taurus saw Zonko's Joke Shop boarded up from afar, he clicked his tongue. "I say, don't tell me all the shops are closed?"

"No, no, no," Ron chattered, shivering. "At least Honeydukes Sweetshop and The Three Broomsticks can't be closed! Otherwise, we might as well stay in the common room!"

As he hoped, Honeydukes was still open, but it was already packed with Hogwarts students. However, when the warm scent of butterscotch wafted towards them, it seemed that all the trudging through the snow was worth it. The sweetness of the candy had such a reassuring magic.

This year's new Volcano Chocolates came with small gift boxes of randomly mixed fruit purees. A large crowd of people swarmed around the counter, scrambling to take out silver Sickles and bronze Knuts from their pockets. In less than five minutes, half of the boxes that had been piled up like a small mountain were gone. Just as we were about to join the fray, a booming voice sounded from behind us. "Harry, Iris - - and Miss Granger and Mr. Black?"

"Oh, no," Harry muttered. When he turned around, he had already forced a smile. "Professor Slughorn?"

Slughorn was wearing a huge furry hat that covered his bald head well and matched his furry - collared coat. He was carrying a large bag of pineapple - flavored candied fruits in his hand, and the shop assistant beside him was nervously eyeing his waving hand - - because he was so large that with the slightest movement, he could swat down all the cream bubbles floating around him.

"Harry, Harry, you're so hard to invite!" Slughorn patted Harry's shoulder with a hint of reproach. "Are you busier than your father, who's constantly dealing with important matters? You've missed three small dinner parties. That won't do, that won't do at all, my boy! Remember how you promised me?"

"I have Quidditch training, Professor," Harry replied helplessly. We had indeed promised to join the Slug Club when we visited him with Dumbledore. "You know, we've had quite a few new players this year - -"

"Well, just as obsessed with Quidditch as your father. With all that hard work, you're sure to win the first match!" Slughorn patted his rotund belly. "But you should also have some fun once in a while, right? Iris and Miss Granger have attended a few times. Our parties are quite interesting, aren't they?"

It was impossible to answer negatively at this time. Iris and Hermione nodded haphazardly. Although at those dinners, I either sat in the corner daydreaming or tried my best to change the topic for Neville. At least Neville was seriously considering getting detention by not handing in his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework to avoid Slughorn's invitations - - it wasn't easy for him to make up his mind like that, especially considering Neville's character.

"This is a great opportunity to meet young talents," Slughorn winked at Harry. "If you want to follow in your father's footsteps, connections are sometimes even more important than ability. Or rather, connections are part of ability. Well, how about Monday night? There's no way you'll have training in this weather - -"

"Monday won't work," Harry said immediately. "Professor Dumbledore has an appointment with us. I'm sorry."

"Another sorry!" Slughorn exclaimed dramatically. "Of course, of course, an appointment with Dumbledore is more important. But you can't keep standing me up, my boy! Then Iris and Miss Granger must be free, right? Well, I won't force you, Mr. Black. Have a good rest and get yourself adjusted. But if you want to come, you're always welcome!"

He waved his hand grandly (just avoiding a cloud of strawberry - flavored cream bubbles) and swaggered out of the sweetshop, not noticing Ron at all during the whole process, as if he were just a string of cockroaches on display in the store.

"You managed to get away again," I said to Harry enviously. "I wish I - -"

"Wish you wanted to join the Quidditch team?" Harry asked with a smile. "It's too late to realize the benefits now!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm scared because I fell off a broom when I was a kid... If it hadn't been such a bad fall, maybe I'd be a decent flyer."

"Actually, those parties aren't that bad," Hermione said. "And sometimes they can be quite interesting."

"Like allowing you to make connections with all those young talents?" Ron, who had been silent, suddenly asked with a hint of hostility. Hermione was taken aback. It took her a while to respond, "I just think Harry promised Slughorn, and it's not good to keep making excuses—"

"Advanced sugar - stick quills!" Taurus exclaimed as if he had just noticed the large, glittering sign in the store. "They can be sucked on for hours!"

We immediately pretended to be highly interested in the quills, but Ron still looked unhappy. He only reluctantly nodded when we suggested going to The Three Broomsticks for something warm to drink.

As we were approaching The Three Broomsticks, we saw a man with messy ginger hair not far from the store. He was talking to a tall, thin man with a long beard. Before we could get a good look, the short, stocky man, who looked a lot like Mundungus, looked up and saw us. Then, as if he had seen something terrifying, he spun around on the spot and Disapparated.

"Was that Mundungus?" Hermione voiced my confusion. "And the person he was talking to... seems to be the owner of the Hog's Head?"

"It must be Mundungus," Taurus snorted. "He got caught stealing things from 12 Grimmauld Place and selling them. He should be glad that there were only some old junk of the Black family left there. Mom's things weren't there, or Dad wouldn't have let him off so easily."

"How could he do that?" Harry asked in shock. "I didn't even know!"

"Not many people know. He's a complete thief. When he was caught, he knelt on the ground, crying and begging for forgiveness," Taurus pushed open the door of The Three Broomsticks. "Dad and I didn't care about those old things either. Giving him a good scolding was enough."

Even though he said that, running into Mundungus clearly spoiled Taurus's mood. He put on a sullen expression again, sipping slowly on the Butterbeer that Hermione and I bought and not saying a word. Ron also remained silent, just staring blankly at Madam Rosmerta, the charming barmaid behind the counter. She was smiling coquettishly as she promoted her best oak - aged mead to a wizard. In such an atmosphere, there wasn't much to talk about. After quickly finishing the beer in our bottles, Hermione suggested going back to school, and everyone readily agreed.

Seeing that the weather was getting worse, we followed two seventh - year Gryffindor girls out of the bar. The snow on the road had all been trampled down and mixed with the mud, freezing the whole road hard and slippery. I stuffed both hands into the pockets of my robe and couldn't keep my balance by spreading my hands like they did. But rather than having my fingertips freeze without gloves, I'd rather just roll back to Hogwarts.

"What's wrong?" Harry, who noticed I was walking slowly, also slowed down. "Are you not feeling well?"

"No," I opened my mouth but was choked by the cold wind. "I didn't bring my gloves."

"You should've said so earlier." He took off the glove on his right hand and handed it to me to put on.

"But then neither of us will be warm," I pointed to his bare right hand with my bare left hand.

"Who said that?" He reached out his right hand, held my left hand, and stuffed them both into his pocket. "Let's go."

The sleet came down even more densely and urgently. We quickened our pace to catch up with the three people in front. Fortunately, they weren't walking fast either. Talking in such weather would only fill our mouths with snow - melt, so we walked on in silence. I didn't know why Harry's pocket was so warm. I even felt my left palm was slightly sweating.

"This has nothing to do with you, Leanne!" I heard the two girls in front of us arguing. Their voices got louder and louder, seemingly arguing about something in one of the girls' hands.

"That's a player on your Quidditch team," I tried hard to recall where I'd seen the girl holding the thing.

"Yeah, Katie Bell," Harry said, not paying much attention. "She's usually quite nice - tempered. I don't know what's going on today—"

The other girl suddenly reached out to grab the package in Katie's hand. Katie yanked it back hard, and the thing fell to the ground. In that instant, before we could even react to what was happening, Katie rose into the air, her face expressionless, eyes closed, and her hair flying wildly in the wind as if she was being gracefully lifted up by something invisible.

"Don't touch that!" I shouted at the girl who bent down to look at the package. My bad premonition came true when Katie started twisting and screaming in the air. "Those of you with gloves, pull her down! Be careful not to let your skin touch her!"

Ron, Hermione, and Taurus had already rushed towards Katie even before I spoke. They were in the front and closer to her. Once dragged back to the ground, Katie started struggling violently. When Taurus grabbed her by the shoulder, her neck began to twist dangerously, and her flailing limbs slapped him and Ron several times in quick succession.

"I'll go get help!" Harry threw the remaining glove to me. "You guys stay here and watch her!"

"Is there any way to calm her down?" Hermione drew her wand but was trembling constantly because Katie kept letting out heart - rending screams, as if being tortured by something invisible. "Or stun her. She looks like she's in so much pain—"

"No, we'd better not do anything," I bent down to look at the soaked parchment package on the ground. It had split open now and was glowing with an eerie green light. "We don't know what curse is on this thing. Don't act rashly."

More and more people gathered around. I used my wand to draw a circle to stop them from getting any closer. A few minutes later, Harry came panting, with Hagrid in tow. Hagrid quickly picked Katie up and ran towards the castle, and only then did Taurus and Ron stand up.

"How did she get this package?" Harry came over and examined the package as well. "This is the opal necklace from Borgin and Burkes. Do you remember, Taurus? We saw it during the summer vacation."

"Yeah," Taurus nodded and rubbed his face. There were at least five bright red handprints on his face now. "The label said there's a curse on the necklace."

"You're Leanne," Hermione reached out and gently put her arm around the other girl, who was shaking and crying. "Katie's friend, right?"

The girl nodded. "We were just arguing about this package! As soon as it was torn open, something happened... I knew there was something wrong with it. She came out of the toilet in The Three Broomsticks with it in her hand, and she had the weirdest expression. I should have realized then - realized that she should - no, she must have been under the Imperius Curse!"

Hermione patted her shoulder gently and gave Harry a fierce look to stop his eager questions. Then she asked in a very gentle tone, "Did she say who gave it to her?"

"No, no. She wouldn't tell me anything. I just felt something was off and wanted to grab it and throw it away. Then - then -" Leanne let out a despairing scream and seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.

"It's okay, it's okay. Let's go back to the castle first. Katie's already on her way there. Madam Pomfrey will heal her," Hermione immediately stopped asking questions and hugged the shaking Leanne tightly. Iris and Hermione helped her up, one on each side.

"Be careful!" I shouted in horror when I saw Harry take off his scarf, wrap the necklace, and pick it up.

"We can't just leave this here. It's too dangerous. And if we give this to Madam Pomfrey, she'll know how to treat Katie," Harry explained.

"Gloves, gloves," I quickly returned his gloves to him.

Just as we entered the school grounds, we saw Professor McGonagall hurrying down the stone steps through the swirling sleet, walking straight towards us.

"Come with me," she said sternly to all of us. "What do you have in your hand, Potter?"