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[HP] 52: So What Exactly Happened in the Illusion?
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 17:02:06 +0000 UTC“Crack!”
A clap of thunder jolted Malfoy awake.
He shot up in bed, dazed, his mind a mess of confusion.
What had just happened? Why was he in bed?
The last thing he remembered was that Mudblood’s strange expression—those faint hints of red flickering in his eyes.
“And then… I just fell asleep?” Malfoy looked around. His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were snoring peacefully in their beds.
Everything looked normal, but a gnawing unease stirred in his gut.
His eyes drifted toward the Mudblood’s bed. It was oddly raised—like something massive was hidden beneath the blanket.
What… was that?
Fear trickled into him—an unexplainable, cold dread. A strange sense of familiarity crept up his spine.
Going back to sleep would’ve been the smart move.
But as if possessed, Malfoy found himself standing before the Mudblood’s bed without even realizing it.
A terrible grinding sound—like someone gnashing their teeth—came from under the blanket. Malfoy trembled. His body wasn’t responding to him. It was like he was trapped in a dream, unable to control his own limbs.
He could only watch as his own hand reached for the blanket, gripping its corner.
The gnashing stopped.
It was as if the monster underneath sensed his presence.
Suddenly, a voice called out from behind him.
“Malfoy? What are you doing?”
It was Goyle!
Tears nearly welled in Malfoy's eyes—he’d never been so glad to hear his friend’s voice.
“Goyle! Pull me back! I can’t control myself!” Malfoy turned his head, shouting desperately, panic cracking his voice.
“Trying to scare that Mudblood, are you?” But instead of helping, Goyle simply placed a hand over Malfoy's.
The cold touch sent a chill straight into his bones.
“Come on, let’s pull it off together—give that Mudblood a real scare,” Goyle said eagerly, and before Malfoy could resist, an overwhelming force yanked the blanket away.
And there it was.
A clown—ridiculous and grotesque—stared back at Malfoy. Its garish face paint, the exaggerated red lips… it was all terribly familiar.
Terror coiled around his heart like thorny vines. The clown’s eyes—painted with fake tears—curved into crescent moons, and it looked at him.
“Goyle, we have to run,” Malfoy whispered, paralyzed with fear. But then he saw something—a glint of blood at the clown’s lips.
His eyes followed the crimson drop as it fell to the mattress.
And then—he saw Goyle’s pale, broken, lifeless face.
Goyle was right there.
Dead.
Slain by the clown.
Then what was behind him?
An icy sting prickled up Malfoy’s spine. His body screamed to run, but he turned around—compelled by sheer dread.
He saw Goyle again, horribly mutilated, grinning with a gaping mouth torn open where flesh was missing.
“You’re not getting away,” Goyle said through the hole in his face as a cold hand clamped over Malfoy’s face.
“Crack!”
Another clap of thunder.
Malfoy woke up again, dazed, eyes wide as he instinctively turned toward the Mudblood’s bed.
Empty.
No strange bumps. Nothing unusual.
He exhaled in relief… until his gaze fell upon Goyle’s bed.
It looked normal.
But that mangled face—he couldn’t unsee it.
“I can’t go to Goyle…” Malfoy muttered, getting out of bed. “I’ll find Crabbe instead—”
And then he saw it.
Crabbe’s bed.
Another suspiciously tall bump beneath the blanket.
“AAAHHHHH—!!”
Malfoy let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped out of bed.
But as he took in his surroundings, the scream caught in his throat.
His eyes became hazy.
“What… what did I just see?” He scratched his head, dazed—his memory blank once again.
He wanted to ask someone. But the only person in the room was him—that Mudblood—sitting there feeding an owl.
Malfoy didn't want to go near him.
Just seeing Louis gave him chills.
Seeing him sit there alone without his cronies nearby made Malfoy even more uneasy. Without saying another word, he bolted from the dorm.
“Draco?” Goyle and Crabbe had just returned from outside, looking much better—apparently comforted by a good meal. “What’s wrong with—”
“DON’T COME NEAR ME!” Malfoy shouted suddenly, then froze, stunned by his own reaction.
What was wrong with him? Why was he scared of his own friends?
“Draco? Are you okay?” Goyle stepped closer to check on him.
But as Goyle approached, Malfoy’s eyes widened—he was seeing that same horrific grin again, the half-missing face lurching toward him.
“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” Malfoy bellowed once more, shoving both Goyle and Crabbe aside before running off, leaving them behind in confusion.
Inside the dorm, Louis listened to the commotion from behind the door, then glanced at the system notification:
> [You used Illusion Magic on an underage wizard.]
> [Interrupted. No Trick Points awarded.]
Louis had originally planned to trap Malfoy in a recurring nightmare loop, but remembering Malfoy had just barely escaped the last one, he figured another round might really break him.
To avoid unnecessary trouble, Louis canceled the illusion spell early.
Still, the fright had clearly done its job—Malfoy seemed to have experienced two solid rounds of sheer terror.
The dormitory door opened, and Crabbe and Goyle stepped inside—only to freeze upon spotting Louis.
They remembered Malfoy’s panic and exchanged a nervous glance, then gulped.
“Ah—well, I’m still kinda hungry… Crabbe, I’m gonna head to the kitchens,” Goyle said awkwardly, turning to leave.
“W-wait for me! I’m coming too,” Crabbe gave Louis a twisted, awkward smile that was more painful than polite, and quickly followed Goyle out.
Louis smiled faintly—pleased with how well they were learning.
“No more snacks for now. Look at that chubby belly of yours.” He patted Fafnir’s head and took away the dried rat in his hand.
Fafnir let out a dissatisfied squeak and jumped onto Louis, still begging for food.
“Enough now. Let me show you something cool,” Louis said, pushing the little creature’s face away as he pulled a silk scarf from his sleeve and waved it before the niffler.
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