Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, blanketing everything in a crystalline sheen. As they settled on his shoulders, Augustus gazed at Malfoy, a faint smile playing on his lips. If Malfoy had been a bit sharper, he might have noticed the secret hidden in Hermione's familiar expression. Ah, the whimsy of youth—it always brimmed with such intrigue.

Lillian turned to Augustus, her eyes narrowing in curiosity at his smirk. "You don't think there's really a ghost here, do you? Maybe Malfoy's actually stumbled upon one of the legends! If so, he's quite lucky, isn't he?"

"It's rather chilly, isn't it? I'm still not used to this weather," Augustus mused, crossing his arms and seemingly talking to himself. Lillian pouted in dissatisfaction, spinning around to pull a playful face at him when his back was turned.

Hermione, suppressing her amusement, donned a serious expression and stared Malfoy down. "Haven't you heard the stories about this place? Curious visitors have been haunted by ghosts here—and many of them met a grim fate. Who knows, Malfoy, you might be next."

Emboldened by the two unexpected snowball attacks, Ron straightened up and joined Hermione. "Exactly! It's karma, Malfoy. You've done so many bad things—it's about time a vengeful ghost came after you!"

Malfoy squinted slightly, scanning the empty surroundings. He then turned back toward Ron with a scoff. "Amusing. I wonder, was this ghost pure-blooded in life? Or was it as filthy and lowly as this Mudblood?"

Before his insult fully landed, another massive snowball shot in from the side. Malfoy's face betrayed a faint smirk. "Gotcha, ghost!" With a flick of his wand, he muttered an incantation, and a blue wind arrow shot forth, slicing through the snowball. The spell zipped off into the distance, but it hit nothing but the biting air.

Hermione's grin widened as she teased him further. "Do you really think you can strike down a ghost with such a basic spell? Malfoy, you're far too naive. I'd suggest you leave now before it's too late. Once a ghost latches on, your only hope is divine intervention or prayer. These spirits—caught between reality and illusion, heaven and hell—are beyond mortal control. Oh dear, it seems like you're in trouble."

A flicker of doubt crept into Malfoy's storm-gray eyes. He glanced back at Augustus for reassurance, seeming to calm slightly. Despite all the dangers he had faced under Augustus' lead, this strange situation left him undeniably uneasy.

"What kind of ridiculous game are you all playing?" Malfoy's voice was a mix of irritation and defiance. "Do you think I'd actually fall for ghost stories? How absurd! Weasley, if you think a couple of snowballs—or even a ghost—will stop me from teaching you a lesson, you're sorely mistaken."

"What are you going to do?" Ron stammered, edging backward in fear. He quickly ducked behind Hermione.

Malfoy shook his head in disdain. "This is the courage of the Weasley family? Pathetic. I've lost the will to bother with you." He turned toward Augustus but barely took a step before another snowball whizzed through the air and struck him squarely on the back of his head, scattering snow across his blonde locks.

"Tsk, Draco," a familiar, taunting voice called from the distance. "It seems you've been outwitted again. If only you'd try harder. Perhaps if your magical skill weren't so low, you wouldn't be in such a sorry state."

Malfoy froze, his irritation replaced by confusion. A figure emerged from the swirling snow, walking effortlessly toward them. Despite the heavy snowfall, the newcomer remained untouched by it. The snowflakes seemed to part in a magnetic field around him, revealing the unmistakable sight of Loki, his signature ash-blonde hair flowing.

"Good day, Lord Augustus." Loki stopped and bowed respectfully before Augustus, who nodded in acknowledgment.

"What are you doing here? Students below the third year aren't even allowed in Hogsmeade," Malfoy asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

Loki smirked, his amber eyes glinting mischievously. "You don't seriously think rules like that would restrain me, do you? Honestly, Malfoy, you could learn a thing or two from your father about being a proper pureblood."

"Fine," Malfoy snapped. "But how did you know we'd be here? Don't tell me you've been following us all this time!"

"Use your brain for once," Loki replied with exaggerated patience. "I noticed you were being played with and decided to step in—though it seems my intervention is unappreciated."

Malfoy scrutinized Loki, his thoughts racing. "So, you've been around all along? That's the only way you could have overheard Hermione."

"You're forgetting the current climate," Loki replied coolly, a smug smile forming.

"Snow?" Malfoy asked, still puzzled.

"Exactly. This is a world steeped in ice and snow. Within a kilometer, nothing escapes my notice. The moment I arrived in Hogsmeade, I was aware of your every move. Every word spoken has reached me through the ice elements around us. Even at my so-called 'low' level of skill, I've uncovered wonders in this realm that you can't begin to fathom," Loki said, his voice brimming with confidence. Snowflakes around him swirled and gathered, forming intricate crystalline patterns that shimmered in the air.

Malfoy's eyes widened with shock. He'd never considered the connection between elemental magic and the natural world. For the first time, he felt a spark of motivation to surpass his current limits.

"So, you already knew about this so-called ghost?" Malfoy asked cautiously.

"Of course," Loki said with a dismissive laugh. "In this snow-laden world, the only anomaly in the environment is over there!"

With a flourish, Loki's wand pointed to a clearing nearby. Snow swirled and gathered, obscuring their view before dispersing to reveal the figure of a person standing motionless. As the mist cleared further, the form of a pure white ice sculpture appeared.

Malfoy's expression hardened. So, it was human trickery after all.

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