Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

Bryan observed Harry Potter leaving his office, a tinge of disappointment apparent on the young wizard's face. In the end, he also had failed to uncover any inhumane secrets. Bryan wasn't surprised by this outcome. Considering Harry's age and his reputation as the heir of Slytherin among his peers, it was understandable that he would withhold such information. Bryan believed that Headmaster Dumbledore should be the one Harry confided in, rather than placing trust in a stranger like himself.

However, after the test just now, Bryan did confirm that Potter had hidden some extremely critical information. If he knew this information, the situation would probably not be so passive.

"Maybe I should think of some way to gain his trust?"

Bryan stared at the swaying light and shadow on the ceiling, frowning in distress. What if the heir never showed his feet?

Bryan once considered that maybe he could get some Polyjuice potion and pretend to be Colin or Justin, spread information to the outside world that the young wizard who was attacked had woken up, and provided the school with key clues to the identity of the culprit, while he himself would just need to show his face with the face of the person being impersonated, and then hide in the school hospital and never come out.

This is a good method, but there is a loophole, that is, if Colin and Justin did not see the real face of the perpetrator when they were petrified, then this method may not be able to scare the attacker.

"Wait and see—"

Bryan withdrew his gaze, and after he moved his fingers towards the monitoring wall, the curtain was pulled open silently, staring at the swaying figures on the wall, he muttered,

If there is still no progress, then the only way is to hug the thighs of the protagonist group—

Harry, who left Mr. Watson's office, walked towards the Gryffindor tower. Originally, he planned to tell Hermione the process of the conversation first, but Harry carefully thought about it. It seemed that there was no need to borrow Hermione's wisdom urgently.

He has already figured out the most critical issue, that is, Mr. Watson will not easily believe the rumors in the school, and he will not put anyone in the castle in prison until he has definite evidence. For Harry, that's enough.

As for not telling Mr. Watson about the horrible voice and Dobby's warning, that's what Harry thought.

Since Mr. Watson refuses to clarify for himself, even if these things are said, it is unlikely to change the result, but it will make him appear more suspicious.

And, he always thought, if anyone needed to know these things, it should be Headmaster Dumbledore—thought Harry as he passed the doorway behind the Fat Lady's portrait.

Except for Percy, several children of the Weasley family were sitting on a large soft sofa under a bright crystal chandelier. When they saw Harry, they immediately showed expressions of relief and waved to him happily. And this scene warmed Harry's heart.

"Well, Harry, did that Watson make things difficult for you because of Filch?" Ron stood up and handed Harry a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Better than I thought, Ron." Harry grinned.

Twenty minutes later, when Harry told them the whole process of the conversation, the Weasleys, who were nervous because of worry, relaxed a lot.

"Oh, that Mr. Investigator seems to be more intelligent than we thought, George. It seems that we have to make some adjustments to our plan." Fred muttered, but his expression seemed a little disappointed, "We were going to give him some flair!"

"Don't, Fred." Harry said worriedly, "Mr. Watson is not a showman like Lockhart, he is not so easy to deal with!"

"Trust in our professionalism, Harry," George chimed in confidently. "We never miss!"

Ron looked at George with great interest and asked, "So, what's your plan? Are you going to throw something big in his office?"

When Harry said that he would not be thrown out of school inexplicably for the time being, Ginny's pale and haggard face, which looked as if she hadn't slept for half a month, regained some color, and she let go of her hand covering her chest. Tone, but after a short while, her breath came again, and she looked tense.

"That Mr. Watson said that he was monitoring the school, but how did he do it? I mean, he almost never steps out of that office of his?"

It was indeed a puzzling question, and Harry couldn't answer it, but his intuition told him that Mr. Watson was not lying, and they discussed it for a long time, and finally, the result is that it is probably related to the wall covered by the curtain.

"It seems that we still have to go, Fred!" At the end of the conversation, George raised his eyebrows and smirked at his brother.

"Of course, George, there's probably no one else who would take the opportunity to sneak into his office except the two of us!" Fred winked at George.

After everyone left, Fred whispered to George, "You think that Percy will have a share too."

"Shut up, Fred!" George said hurriedly, looking at Percy who was struggling to climb into the lounge. "Wait until tomorrow, we can figure this out."

On Tuesday morning, Gryffindor's fourth-year class had charms with Professor Flitwick. They were learning the Laughter Charm—a spell that brought happiness.

"—At the end of the casting action, your wand needs to be slightly raised upwards. This is very important, gentlemen and ladies," Professor Flitwick said sharply on the first base beside the podium, "otherwise, if you wake up, you will find yourself lying on the floor with a black-haired baboon on your chest!"

"What are you two up to?"

Angelina saw that Fred and George didn't practice spells with each other at all but lowered their heads to peek at a piece of parchment. On the yellowed paper, there were many densely packed words moving back and forth.

"Peeking into someone's privacy is despicable, Angelina. I wouldn't want a despicable person as my teammate~" Fred replied, turning his head to avoid Angelina's gaze. He then discreetly signaled George, who promptly produced an orange-yellow candy from his sleeve.

"If I die because of this, Fred, remember to bury my body in Filch's office!" George said with a smile.

Three minutes later, the originally noisy classroom fell silent amidst a series of eardrum-piercing screams. The bright red liquid ejected from George's two nostrils at the same time stunned everyone. Professor Flitwick trotted over. When he saw the horrible scene and the large bloodstains on Fred's robe, he also fell into a panic.

"Fred, no, George, well, no matter who you are, can someone explain to me what's going on!"

"He's going to die!" Fred supported George, who was pale and grieved, "Would you allow me to find a place to bury my dear brother?"

"No one dies, Weasley!" Professor Flitwick was annoyed. He said, "Take him to Madam Pomfrey to deal with it. If there is time, I hope you can come back and practice the Laughter Charm. This lesson is very important, Weasley, because—" Flitwick didn't finish his sentence. He stopped talking because, after hearing that he allowed them to go to the school hospital, the two Weasleys immediately jumped up lively and jumped out of the classroom without looking back, leaving Professor Flitwick standing in a big pool of blood, his room messy.

Because it was class time, there were very few young wizards wandering around in the castle. Fred and George, who were holding their noses, ran all the way. When they reached the fourth floor, Fred suggested that he investigate Watson's office by himself and let George go to the school hospital to simply deal with it.

"We haven't figured out the antidote for this, George. Maybe it will make all your blood dry!"

"Don't do it alone, Fred. You can't take all the credit by yourself!" George rushed straight to the third floor, holding his gurgling nose that was bleeding.

According to the results of observation over the past few days, Bryan Watson would only leave his mysterious office between 10:30 and 11:00 in the morning and from 4:00 to 4:30 in the afternoon. Then he would go to the prefect's bathroom to soak in a bath to relieve fatigue, and finally rush back without stopping.

Cracking the protective spell on the office door turned out to be much easier than the twins had anticipated. A simple "Alohomora" spell was all it took.

Sneaking into the room, Fred and George stooped low. The office had simple furnishings and didn't warrant much attention. Standing before the black curtain, the twins exchanged excited glances.

"On the count of three, let's unveil this mystery together!" Fred whispered eagerly to George.

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