Dont forget to Vote and Review if you like story...
your comment make me motivate posting here
read full story in patreon : ilham20
Rove swaggered at the front of the group. His current body belonged to a burly Slytherin upperclassman, giving his walk an oppressive weight, as if every step was meant to leave a crater in the floor.
"Stop looking around, rookies." He lowered his voice, growling at Harry (Goyle) and Ron (Crabbe) behind him in a gruff tone. "We need to act like we own the place. Like Uruk-hai inspecting their barracks."
Harry and Ron nodded clumsily, trying their best to imitate the ape-like gait of Goyle and Crabbe.
"Over there!" Harry pointed to a corner of the room.
The Slytherin common room was less of a lounge and more of a subterranean palace. Green light cast from circular bulbs dyed everything in an eerie, spectral hue. Tapestries depicting famous Slytherin Dark Wizards hung on the walls, and green flames crackled in the fireplace.
Draco Malfoy was lounging lazily in a black velvet high-backed chair, looking like a petty tyrant on his throne. He held a newspaper in his hands, surrounded by several sycophantic Slytherin students.
"Follow me. Keep looking fierce." Rove strode over.
Malfoy looked up, showing no surprise as the three hulking figures approached, only an arrogant expression.
"What are you doing over there, Crabbe, Goyle?" Malfoy drawled, his gaze finally resting on Rove, his brow furrowing. "Who are you? Didn't Bulstrode come?"
Harry and Ron stiffened nervously.
Rove didn't panic in the slightest.
Looking down at Malfoy, Rove spoke in a gruff, arrogant, and heavily nasal voice, "Millicent's got the runs. Like a troll with food poisoning. I'm Pike. Came to see if there's any fun to be had."
"Pike?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, clearly searching his memory banks. "Never heard of you. But whatever, since you're a Slytherin, sit down. Everyone else here is an idiot or a moron anyway."
Rove plopped heavily onto the leather sofa opposite Malfoy. He slammed the frying pan from his back onto the marble coffee table with a deafening CLANG!
The surrounding students jumped, and Malfoy nearly launched himself out of his chair. "What are you doing with a pot? Planning to brew potions here?"
"This is my shield." Rove said fiercely. He grabbed a green apple from the table and took a massive bite, core and all. "And my rice bowl. Got a problem with that?"
> [Skill Activated: Savage Intimidation]
> [Roll Result: Success. Malfoy is cowed by primal, violent aesthetics.]
"No problem." Malfoy shrugged, seemingly accepting this premise—in Slytherin, strength and eccentricity often went hand-in-hand. He tossed the Daily Prophet in his hand in front of Rove. "Look at this, it's hilarious. That poor Weasley family is in the papers again."
Ron's (Crabbe's) fists instantly clenched.
Rove kicked Ron under the table, then picked up the paper, pretending to scan it casually.
> [Item Acquired: Enemy Intelligence Report]
> [Content Analysis: Arthur Weasley fined for abuse of Muggle Artifacts Law]
> [Intelligence Decryption: Public opinion attack / Political persecution against Order of the Phoenix allies]
"Hilarious indeed." Rove snorted coldly, crumpling the paper into a ball and tossing it directly into the fireplace. The paper turned to ash in the green flames. "Trash like this is only fit for kindling. Weasleys? They don't even rate as a disgrace to pure-bloods."
Malfoy laughed, clearly pleased with this new "Pike". This meathead's values perfectly aligned with his own.
"You know, some idiots actually think Potter is the Heir of Slytherin." Malfoy sneered, a look of all-knowing superiority on his face. "Potter? Saint Potter? He can't even cast a decent spell. Probably take him a month just to learn the Disarming Charm."
Harry (Goyle) struggled to control his facial expressions, trying his best to look like an idiot. "Then you... do you know who it is?"
"I wish I did!" Malfoy said impatiently, clearly having been asked this question countless times. "My father won't tell me either. He only said it happened fifty years ago, and a Mudblood died back then. If I knew who it was, I'd shine their shoes."
> [Key Intelligence Unlocked: Victim from 50 years ago]
> [Mission Progress: 50%]
> [Clue Chain: 50 years ago -> Chamber Opened -> Death -> Hagrid? (Pending verification)]
"Good riddance." Malfoy smiled viciously. "Hope it's the same this time. If I got to choose, I'd want Granger to be next. That disgusting little Mudblood."
Ron shot to his feet, face flushed red, fists cracking. His Sanity points had clearly hit zero.
"What's wrong, Crabbe?" Malfoy looked at him oddly. "You look like you swallowed a toad."
"I... my stomach hurts." Ron forced out the words.
"Go to the Hospital Wing." Malfoy waved him off impatiently, like swatting a fly. "Useless. Ate too much and made yourself sick, right? Speaking of that Mudblood Granger, though, she's actually gone missing recently. I bet she's hiding and crying somewhere, or already got eaten by the monster..."
Hearing this, Rove knew he couldn't hold back anymore.
Even though he was an infiltrator, a disguised Orc, he was first and foremost Rove Baggins, friend to Hermione Granger.
He "stood up to get more apples," but as he passed Malfoy, his foot "accidentally" caught on the Persian rug.
> [Tactical Maneuver: Momentum Fall]
> [Physics Engine Calculation: Gravitational Acceleration + Weight Bonus + Elbow Strike Modifier]
His massive, muscle-bound frame crashed toward Malfoy with unstoppable momentum, like a collapsing tower in Isengard.
And as he fell, his right elbow, aided by gravity, struck Malfoy's left ribs with extreme precision and seeming lack of intent.
Man, what can I say! Mamba Out!
"OWWW!!!"
Malfoy let out a scream like a slaughtered pig, instantly curling into a ball. His face turned paper-white, cold sweat immediately beading on his forehead.
"Whoops!" Rove crashed heavily onto Malfoy (inflicting secondary crush damage), then clumsily scrambled up, looking innocently at Malfoy writhing on the floor.
"Sorry, Draco." Rove said in that gruff voice, showing zero remorse and even a hint of schadenfreude. "Floor's too slippery. Like it's coated in Flobberworm mucus. You alright? You don't look like you can take a hit."
Malfoy was in too much pain to speak. He could only point at Rove, fingers trembling, lips quivering as if trying to utter some vicious curse, but ultimately only managing a whimper.
"I think his ribs might be broken." Rove turned to a dumbfounded Harry and Ron. "That's what happens when you've got a weak constitution. Where I'm from, a bump like that is just a greeting. Looks like Slytherin's training regimen isn't intense enough."
The surrounding Slytherin students were stunned. No one dared to step forward and help Malfoy because this meathead named "Pike" looked way too ferocious, like an out-of-control rhino.
> [Combat Resolution: Physical Critical Hit]
> [Damage Dealt: Rib Fracture (Minor) + Psychological Trauma (Severe)]
> [Evaluation: This is what we call an "accident." A perfect accident.]
Right then, Harry suddenly grabbed Rove's arm.
"Your hair?" Harry pointed at Rove's forehead.
Rove checked his reflection in the silver platter on the coffee table. The short black hair was visibly reverting to his brown curls, and his ferocious features were twisting and reforming.
> [Warning: Disguise Failure Countdown]
> [Genetic Stability: Collapsing]
> [Time Remaining: 0:30]
"Damn it." Rove swore. "This potion is a dud! Must've used expired leeches! Damned goblin tech!"
"We gotta go!" Ron yelled, feeling his shoes getting tighter.
"Wait, my pan!" Rove snatched the frying pan off the table; it was his primary weapon, after all.
The three of them ignored Malfoy, who was still groaning on the floor, and bolted from the Slytherin common room like rabbits chased by Wargs.
They sprinted down the corridors, feeling their bodies reverting to their original forms as they ran. The agonizing pain of shrinking bones nearly made them trip, their skin burning as if on fire.
"Pure-blood!" Harry yelled at the stone wall, his voice already back to normal.
Finally, panting heavily, they burst into the second-floor girls' bathroom, the transformation fully complete.
Rove slumped against the sinks, looking at his small self in the mirror, then at Harry and Ron beside him, who were also back to normal. Though disheveled, their eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Got the intel." Rove wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Not much, but at least we've ruled him out as a suspect. Malfoy isn't the Heir. He's just a clueless idiot."
"And you broke his ribs." Ron grinned, looking like a fool. "That was so badass. I heard the bone snap. Best Christmas music ever."
"It was an accident." Rove said deadpan, though he couldn't suppress the smirk creeping onto his face. "The battlefield is always full of accidents. Maybe he should drink more milk."
Just then, the door to the farthest stall creaked open.
"Hermione?" Harry called out hesitantly, his voice filled with concern.
Moaning Myrtle floated over, letting out an ear-piercing cackle. "Oh, just you wait! It's absolutely awful! You'll never guess!"
Hermione stepped out.
Or rather, a creature with cat ears and a cat tail stepped out. She held her robes over her face, letting out a desperate, trembling whimper.
Rove froze.
In his System vision, Hermione's name had turned the purple color of a Rare Elite mob.
> [Special Race Detected: Catfolk / Skin-changer]
> [Status: Feral Regression / Genetic Contamination]
> [Stat Changes: Agility +5, Perception +3, Charisma...???]
> [Evaluation: ...This is kinda cute? I mean, if you ignore the fact that she looks like she's about to cry.]
"I knew it..." Hermione sobbed. "That wasn't Millicent's hair... it was her cat's hair! Polyjuice Potion isn't meant for animal transfiguration!"
Rove stared at those fluffy ears, his hand subconsciously twitching with the urge to scratch them.
> [System Alert: Please suppress the urge to pet the cat. Now is not the time.]