Bright red writing.
Indeed, it attracted quite a crowd of young wizards.
And even Hagrid, the big guy, was maintaining order by the wall.
"What happened here?"
Ian, somewhat puzzled, walked toward Ian. He had of course already seen the writing here, but his Black Phoenix had been on guard all night and hadn't detected anyone being harmed.
Since nothing unexpected happened.
Why would Hagrid be here trying to disperse the crowd?
"You little rascals, can't you just hurry up and get ready for class... I told you, it's just someone's prank." Hagrid continued to try to drive away the young wizards.
However.
The young wizards did not believe him.
"I don't believe it! The owls were scared away!"
"Exactly! Last night, my Marilyn was trembling in my blanket! She's a brave cat, usually not even afraid to kiss Professor Snape's shoes!"
"There must be a monster! My poor Scabbers was eaten! Boo hoo hoo!"
...
Both senior and junior students were murmuring.
Ian also saw Ron crying loudly, as if he was extremely grief-stricken. This newly enrolled red-haired Weasley sat on the ground, face full of sorrow.
"From childhood to now, I finally got something that belonged only to me, and now it's gone. What's the point of living in this world?"
Ron looked as if he might jump off a building in despair at any moment.
His twin brother was attempting to comfort him disdainfully.
"What! You lost your rat?" Ian, clutching his pocket filled with last year's hoarded 'food,' approached, looking even more unwilling to accept reality than Ron, who had lost 'half of his property.'
"Yes! Boo hoo hoo! I lost my rat!" Seeing that Ian cared more than his brother, Ron immediately felt he had found someone who could empathize.
He tried to shift a bit and embrace Ian's leg.
The young wizard nimbly evaded him.
"Someone said they heard wailing in the sewer yesterday. I think some Fantastic Beasts have broken into the school, particularly one that eats rats."
"Rat squeals aren't that loud; I think Snape was dragged in and eaten... Ian, you should grieve, but don't forget to call us when you inherit the estate."
"But I think it sounded like the wail of some large creature. Of course, the creature ate Snape, and then it was eaten by an even stronger creature."
George and Fred each voiced their analysis.
They still disliked Snape.
"Could it have run off? I can help you find it!" Ian enthusiastically began to pull out his Living Map, hoping to catch Scabbers for some potential experiments with scenarios like "I don't know," "I thought it was a rat," "I really didn't know it was human," "We're all living vigorously."
Just as Ian reached for his Money Bag.
"Mr. Prince, I think I owe you an apology for my rudeness and stupidity yesterday regarding you and your friends."
Malfoy, full of platinum blonde hair, suddenly squeezed next to Ian.
He bowed deeply to Ian, sounding sincere. Without knowing the reason, this little guy's two followers were not with him at the moment.
"Did you hear another rumor?"
Ian sensed Malfoy's fearful and uneasy emotions.
"No... nothing... I... I just sincerely feel that I was wrong." Malfoy raised his head, showing swelling on both cheeks.
Unsure who had slapped him several times.
"Really, it's like that. I've repented. I realized my flawed nature, and I want to start anew." Malfoy grew even more tense under Ian's gaze.
His expression became stiff, not daring to make eye contact with Ian.
"Do you know what happened here?" Ian wasn't bothered by Malfoy's inner thoughts, but was very interested in the little wizards' discussions.
"I..."
Malfoy hesitated.
"Not quite sure."
After holding back for a while, he only shook his head, the guilty look making the young wizard glance sideways, and Ian's suspicious gaze further panicked him.
"I'll... I'll ask around for you."
Malfoy said, squeezing into the crowd.
Ian, bewildered, watched.
He purposefully rummaged through the robe before tossing it at Ian's feet, looking back several times as if afraid Ian didn't notice.
"You dropped something."
Ian picked up the delicate pouch for Malfoy.
"Ah?"
Seeing Ian pick up the item, Malfoy visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
However.
When Ian handed him the pouch.
He acted strangely.
"Not mine! Right! Really not mine! I don't know!" He denied, waving his arms frantically and shaking his head, then eagerly squeezed through the crowd, running madly toward the stairs.
"What in the world?"
Ian followed out of the crowd.
Only to see Malfoy already far away, stumbling on the stairs but scrambling upwards with hands and feet, disappearing from sight within half a minute.
"Is he trying to frame me? Or bribe me?"
The young wizard curiously weighed the pouch.
He opened the bag.
The sunlight reflected off something inside, offering a glimpse of something shiny.
...
Slytherin Common Room.
Boys' Dormitory.
Malfoy raced back to his dormitory with full strength, locked the door, and flopped onto the bed, panting heavily before anxiously getting up and walking to the desk.
"Is this really safe? Will he think I'm harming him... I heard that if I truly anger him, my parents and ancestors will be ruined along with me!"
He slowly wrote a line in a tattered diary.
The diary appeared thin, and the ink-stamped dates on the cover were faded, having been set aside for an unknown period. Besides that, it contained no other content.
With Malfoy's writing.
The diary's mysterious features started to appear.
The boy's writing quickly vanished.
Momentarily.
"Dumbledore and the professors can't be trusted; you and I can only rely on this special young wizard. You might even earn a special contribution award to the school for your helpful actions with him."
"Just as I once did." The neat diary began displaying text, as if invisibly written in ink.
"This is about dealing with the one who can't be named! I'm merely trying to live." Malfoy disregarded the tempting words.
His complexion was pale.
Writing another line in utter agitation.
The writing also quickly disappeared.
After some time, there was no response from the diary.
Just as Malfoy thought the mysterious entity inside wouldn't continue replying.
"Who doesn't want to live."
An empty diary suddenly displayed a sentence.
"Voldemort is a madman, but I'm not."
Subtle ink connectors appeared.
Showing briefly.
Vanishing without a trace.