Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

Exiting the Three Broomsticks, the group was greeted by a snowstorm. Snowflakes swirled relentlessly, settling on Augustus' collar. He pulled his black coat tighter, his tall and slender frame looking almost fragile under the sharp winter sunlight. He strolled leisurely through the snow, with Malfoy and Lillian following behind, their footsteps crunching on the icy trail.

"Where are we headed next? The Shrieking Shack, perhaps? Horror movies made by Muggles are always so dull; why not experience the real thing for a change? And there's a perfect spot for it right now! Mr. Augustus, why don't we go together?" Lillian skipped ahead a few steps, stopping in front of him. Her wine-red eyes sparkled with excitement, and her adorable nose wrinkled slightly in a mischievous pout, as if silently saying, Trick or treat—or else!

"Malfoy, what's your opinion?" Augustus stopped with a resigned smile, brushing the snowflakes from Lillian's hair, his gaze full of indulgent warmth.

"Soga? Why bother? It's freezing out here. We should head back to school before I turn into an icicle," Malfoy complained, rubbing his reddened cheeks. However, Lillian's sharp glare—a silent you're-dead-if-you-say-the-wrong-thing—prompted him to quickly change his tune. "Uh, actually, it's not that cold! I've always wanted to see the Shrieking Shack. Who knows? There might even be treasure! Let's head over, Lord Augustus!"

Lillian smirked, satisfied, and gave a triumphant hum, as if to say, Good boy.

"Tsk, such flimsy resolve, Malfoy," Augustus remarked, shaking his head as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "I should've known better than to count on you. Alright, let's go."

Lillian flashed a victorious smile and made a cheerful V-sign with her fingers before sticking close to Augustus. Behind her, Malfoy rolled his eyes and trudged along begrudgingly.

The path ahead gradually emptied as most students began heading back to school. Shops passed by like scenes from a rewinding film, retreating behind the three of them. The buildings thinned out as they neared the edge of the village, drawing closer to the Shrieking Shack.

The distance from the pub wasn't far—just two or three kilometers—and it took them about half an hour to reach their destination. The legendary haunted house was cordoned off with fencing, and a "No Entry" sign would likely have deterred most explorers. The three-story structure was worn and decrepit, its eaves visibly damaged. From the outside, it looked no different from any other abandoned house.

"Well, here it is," Augustus said, gesturing toward the house as he stopped in front of it. "Disappointed, aren't you?"

"Ugh, so plain!" Lillian groaned, putting a hand to her forehead, frustration written all over her face. "I guess having an overactive imagination is a curse. Reality and expectations are worlds apart!"

"Hah, told you it'd be boring," Malfoy sneered, looking smug. "Women—always letting their long hair mess with their judgment."

"Hmm?" Lillian's attention shifted suddenly. "Wait, isn't that Hermione and Ron over there? What are they doing here? Weren't they at the pub just now?"

Malfoy's face lit up with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, he strode toward the pair. Augustus let out a quiet sigh, muttering to himself about Malfoy's unchanging penchant for stirring up trouble.

"Well, well! If it isn't Ron and Hermione. Sneaking off for a little date, are we? Of all places, though—the Shrieking Shack? You're killing me here!" Malfoy smirked, his gray-blue eyes glinting with mockery.

"Move aside, Draco. What we do is none of your business," Ron snapped, waving him off irritably.

"Ha! Funny you should say that. Did you know my father holds a 20% stake in the businesses under Hogsmeade's jurisdiction? So technically, where you're standing might just belong to us. Now, tell me again—do I have the right to meddle?" Malfoy crossed his arms, smirking triumphantly.

"That's nonsense!" Ron's face flushed red, and he fumbled for a comeback. "What business shares? You're talking rubbish!"

The mention of wealth hit a sore spot for Ron, leaving him visibly flustered. Hermione, unimpressed, stepped forward.

"Even if your father owns shares here, they belong to him, not you," Hermione said firmly. "So stop standing there spouting nonsense and get lost."

"Well said, Hermione!" Ron regained some confidence, nodding. "Without your dad, you're just a bug, Malfoy! Clinging to his coattails like that—have you no shame?"

Malfoy's smirk faded into a frosty glare. "You've got a sharp tongue for someone so out of place, Weasley. Do you think you're safe here? This area is isolated—perfect for teaching you a lesson. Let's see how bold you are without anyone to save you."

Malfoy reached into his cloak. Ron instinctively stepped back, fear flashing across his face. He remembered how even Harry struggled against Malfoy in a duel and doubted he could hold his own.

Hermione, her expression filled with disappointment, stepped forward and stood protectively in front of Ron. "If you're so set on 'teaching' Ron a lesson, why not include me, too? I've heard a lot about your skills, Draco Malfoy. I'd love to see them firsthand."

"Stand aside. I don't fight girls," Malfoy drawled. "And Weasley—hiding behind a girl? That's a new low, even for you. I bet Professor McGonagall would be thrilled to hear that her brave Gryffindor harbors a coward like you."

Ron's guilt was palpable as he clenched his fists, only to release them again, unable to muster the courage to step forward.

Suddenly, a snowball hurtled through the air, striking Malfoy squarely in the face. He wiped off the snow with a livid expression, glaring around. All he saw were Augustus, Lillian, and the two Gryffindors in front of him.

Hermione let out a soft giggle, seemingly catching on. Malfoy, however, remained furious and alert, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Another snowball came flying, but this time, Malfoy deflected it with a slicing charm. He turned toward the direction of the attack—toward the Shrieking Shack itself—and furrowed his brows.

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