#hacker chapter four

The atmosphere in the Great Hall the next morning was thick with tension. As breakfast was laid out on the tables, most students weren’t even paying attention to the food. Their eyes were glued to their phones, watching the countdown timer inch closer to zero. The air buzzed with nervous anticipation, punctuated by whispered conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. 

Y/N sat at the Slytherin table, her heart pounding, though her expression remained calm. She glanced around, noticing the unease on several familiar faces. Pansy Parkinson sat stiffly beside her, fingers tapping anxiously against her plate, her gaze flickering to her phone every few seconds. Mattheo Riddle sat across from Y/N, his leg bouncing beneath the table in agitation. He caught Y/N’s eye briefly but looked away, his usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found. On the other side of the hall, Ginny Weasley was seated with her friends, but she barely touched her breakfast. Her hand clutched her expensive new bag, her knuckles white. Draco Malfoy, who had always seemed unflappable, was unnervingly quiet, his pale face more drawn than usual.

The anticipation built, and students began counting down aloud, their voices rising together. 

“Five… four… three… two… one!”

Suddenly, phones across the hall buzzed with notifications. The room erupted with cheers and laughter as students opened the shared link, seeing confetti burst across their screens. Then the cheering died down, replaced with gasps as four new slideshows appeared. 

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She watched as the first video began playing, the title splashed across the screen: Who is Draco Malfoy?

The hall fell eerily silent as students leaned in to watch. The video started with a montage of Draco’s life—images of him in his pristine Slytherin uniform, smirking at the camera, his family estate in the background. But then it took a sharp turn. It revealed a secret social media account, the username untraceable but clearly Draco’s. Private videos played, showing Draco sending flirtatious messages to an anonymous person, referring to them as "kitten." The screen then flashed to explicit videos of Draco—nudes and risqué content he had sent to his mystery lover. The final clip showed him buying lavish gifts for “kitten,” the anonymity of the recipient fueling gossip instantly.

Students gasped. Some laughed, while others sat in shocked silence. Y/N’s gaze darted to Draco. He looked stricken, his usually pale face flushed with anger and embarrassment. His hands clenched into fists as he muttered under his breath, "I’m going to kill whoever did this." 

Before anyone could fully react, the next video started: "Who is Ginny Weasley?"

Ginny’s face drained of color as her name appeared on the screen. The video began innocently enough, recounting her life with seven older brothers, growing up in a modest household. But then, it shifted. Footage of Ginny showing off her new, expensive bag and designer clothes rolled, juxtaposed with images of her family’s frugality. Then came the paperwork—clear evidence that Ginny had been siphoning money meant for the Yule Ball budget, spending it on herself. The hall erupted in disbelief and shock.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to Ginny. She sat frozen in place, her hands trembling. Across the hall, Professor McGonagall shot up from her seat at the head table. “Miss Weasley!” she barked, her voice ringing through the hall. Ginny didn’t move, her face flushed with humiliation. Students around her began whispering furiously, some hurling insults.

“Thief!”  

“Guess the Weasleys weren’t as noble as we thought.”

Y/N looked away, heart sinking, but there was no time to reflect. The third video had already started: "Who is Mattheo Riddle?"

Mattheo visibly tensed. The video highlighted his infamous father, Tom Riddle, emphasizing his shady business dealings and political corruption. Clips of Mattheo followed, showing him flaunting his father’s wealth, throwing money around at parties, and speeding through town in luxury cars. Then the video cut to Tom Riddle himself, hypocritically denouncing corrupt politicians, saying he was in it for “honor and family,” while the images of Mattheo’s extravagance played on screen. It was a direct attack on both father and son.

Mattheo’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at it, paling as he saw the caller ID: his father. His jaw clenched, and without a word, he stood, hurriedly leaving the hall. The whispering grew louder, mocking laughter trailing him as he stormed out, his phone pressed to his ear.

But the final video was the most devastating: "Who is Pansy Parkinson?"

Pansy froze as her name appeared, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her fork. The video started with harmless clips of Pansy and her ex-boyfriends, gossiping with friends. Then the footage turned darker. Secretly recorded, it showed Pansy talking to Blaise, her best friend. In the footage, Pansy confessed tearfully that she didn’t like boys the way she was supposed to. “I like girls,” her voice trembled as she admitted her truth. Blaise had hugged her, comforting her as she cried. 

The hall fell into stunned silence. Pansy sat frozen for a moment, her face going pale. Then, without a word, she stood and ran from the hall. Blaise immediately followed, guilt written all over his face as he chased after her, just as he had comforted her in the video.

The hall erupted into chaos. 

Students were shouting, some calling Draco and Ginny names, others taunting Mattheo. A few students were sympathetic, but most were too caught up in the drama. Y/N could barely hear herself think over the noise.

Across the hall, the doors opened, and Astoria Greengrass stepped inside. Her face was pale, but she looked determined. Then she caught sight of the phones and the videos playing. Whispers immediately followed her entrance, people staring at her, some laughing cruelly. Draco saw her, his eyes wide with panic. He stood, pushing his chair back violently. “Astoria—wait—” But she was already turning, tears spilling down her cheeks as she fled once again. Draco tried to follow, but she was gone before he could reach her. He swore under his breath, his hands trembling as he sat back down. 

Hermione, who had entered quietly, watched Astoria’s retreat with a solemn expression. Y/N saw the way Hermione glanced at Draco—sympathy, but something else too. Draco ran a hand through his hair, his eyes dark with guilt.

“Things are getting out of hand,” Y/N muttered to herself, trying to drown out the taunts and shouts from all around her. Her head buzzed with questions. Who was next? Who was behind this?

The professors stood huddled at the head of the room. Snape’s face was twisted in frustration. "We need to ban phones," he hissed.

"That will only make matters worse," McGonagall replied, her voice strained with the weight of everything.

Dumbledore remained calm but watchful. "We need to address this before it escalates further."

But Y/N couldn’t focus on their discussion. She had a sinking feeling, gnawing at the pit of her stomach. The videos had come for Draco, Ginny, Mattheo, and Pansy today, but it wasn’t over. The countdown had started, and she feared her time was coming.

Next Chapter

Taglist: