The group listened to Ron excitedly recount his afternoon at Hagrid's hut.
Draco, meanwhile, sat distractedly, his eyes vacant as he stared at the food before him, which was noticeably more exquisite than usual, but he made no move to pick up his knife and fork.
Neville, unable to bear it, quietly placed several perfectly roasted pieces of beef and fluffy Yorkshire pudding onto Draco's plate.
Draco dazedly looked up at Neville.
"Eat something," Neville's voice carried gentle concern. "Otherwise, you'll be too hungry to sleep tonight."
This simple comfort seemed to relax Draco's taut nerves a little. He mumbled a low "Mm."
"Oh, right," Ron turned to the others. "What did you all get up to today?"
Neville spoke with some embarrassment, "Seamus and I went to watch the Quidditch team practice. Although they all really liked it, I think... it's too dangerous."
Neville's childhood experience of being thrown out of a window by his uncle, while accidentally triggering his magic outburst, also left him with a severe fear of heights.
"Please, Neville!" Ron exclaimed dramatically. "Don't tell me you're not interested in Quidditch! It's the best sport!"
"My favorite Quidditch team is the Chudley Cannons! Even though they'll probably be at the bottom again this year, I believe one day they'll lift the Cup!"
Hermione tilted her head slightly and quietly asked Nios beside her, "What is Quidditch?"
Nios was focused on a lamb chop and didn't even look up, mumbling, "Hmm... I don't know."
Hermione gave him an exasperated look and turned to Harry opposite her for an answer.
Harry knew a bit, but he caught sight of Draco's pathetic "little transparent" look at the moment, and recalled his expression when he spoke eloquently about Quidditch at Madam Malkin's shop...
Although he didn't particularly like Draco, now that Nios had pulled him into this small group, Harry felt they might become friends in the future.
Instead of letting Draco continue to suffer, it would be better to give him a chance to show off, which would also help lighten the mood.
"Hey, Draco!" Harry spoke up at the right moment, saying to Draco, "Aren't you particularly knowledgeable about Quidditch? Why don't you tell us about it? I grew up in the Muggle world and don't really know much about this sport." He said he didn't want Nios and Hermione to feel awkward.
Draco's spirits lifted. He had just been thinking this was a good time to join the conversation, and Harry's words were simply a godsend.
"Ahem..." He cleared his throat, trying to regain some of the Malfoy heir's composure.
"Well, since you insist... Quidditch is indeed a fascinating sport." He sat up straight, chin slightly raised, and the familiar Draco was back.
"In a Quidditch match, a team needs seven players: one Keeper, three Chasers, two Beaters, and one Seeker."
"The game uses three kinds of balls: the Quaffle, the Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch."
"Chasers are responsible for throwing the Quaffle through the opponent's hoops. Each goal scores 10 points."
"Beaters must protect their teammates by hitting the fierce Bludgers away with bats."
"As for the Keeper, their duty is, of course, to guard their own three hoops."
"The real victory actually lies with the Seeker."
"The Golden Snitch is only the size of a walnut and flies extremely fast. Catching it earns 150 points and immediately ends the game!"
At this point, the studious Hermione raised her hand to ask, "If the Seeker never catches the Golden Snitch, won't the game never end?"
"I know this one!" Ron loudly interjected before Draco could speak. "The 'Eternal Battle' between the Caerphilly Catapults and the Flanders Falcons in 1291!"
"The Eternal Battle?" Hermione pressed.
Draco immediately took over, recounting fluently, afraid of being interrupted by Ron again: "That's right! This legendary match lasted for three whole months! There were no artificial Snitches back then!"
"That match used an unusually clever raven chick! It would even disguise itself among flocks of swamp birds, and hide in mud caves during heavy rain! Forcing both teams to search the swamp wearing Bubble-Head Charms!"
At this, Draco's speaking speed suddenly picked up, especially afraid that Ron would steal his moment in the spotlight again:
"Both sides were forced to constantly summon substitute players to take turns!"
"The organizers also had House-elves use Levitation Charms to set up tents in the air for players to rest!"
"Many players endured on stimulating Potions or nutritional Potions, and many had nosebleeds from excessive consumption!"
"Because the game lasted too long, the wooden brooms warped from prolonged rain, and Beaters had to use Reparo Charms to repair them while playing!"
"And the Department of Magical Games and Sports tried to stop the match three times, but were blocked by angry fans!"
"Even the referee, Modesty Rabnott, was so exhausted he fell into the swamp, was bitten by a Grindylow, and sent to the hospital!"
"Until the 93rd day! The Flanders Falcons' Seeker, Van der Waal, accidentally ate a swamp berry and fell into a coma, while the Golden Snitch was washed by heavy rain to the feet of the Caerphilly Catapults' Seeker, Aidan Lynch!"
"Ultimately, the score was 1270:1260, with the Caerphilly Catapults narrowly winning!"
Having said it all in one breath, Draco glanced at Nios with a hint of apprehension.
Nios had also just finished eating, put down his dining knife, and clapped softly twice.
"Very good commentary, Draco."
Nios's voice carried a hint of approval. Then he picked up his pumpkin juice, his gaze sweeping over everyone. "Oh, and welcome to our group."
The others understood and raised their pumpkin juice.
"To Draco," Nios said first.
"To Draco," the others echoed in unison.
Draco watched this scene, and the gloom caused by Nios's prank instantly vanished from his heart.
He now clearly realized two things:
First, Nios apparently had no intention of harming him or his House.
Second, joining this small group might bring unprecedented benefits to the House of Malfoy!
Look at this group of people!
Harry Potter: The "Savior" who defeated the Dark Lord! Unparalleled influence.
Ronald Weasley: One of the most flourishing Houses in the Wizarding World, with deep connections.
Neville Longbottom: A well-established pure-blood House, leaning left but not to be underestimated.
Hermione Granger: A Muggle-born genius, and seemingly very close to Nios.
Nios Chaos: The mysterious descendant of a "Witch Hunter," possessing disruptive power.
And himself—Draco Malfoy: A true-blue representative of the right-wing pure-bloods.
The energy gathered by such a group of people was simply unimaginable!
Draco even suspected that the moment they graduated from Hogwarts, they would be able to stir up a revolutionary storm, turning the entire Wizarding World of Britain and beyond upside down.
Someone like Nios would never be content with peace! Following him would undoubtedly lead to immeasurable power and benefits!
Nios's gentle attitude naturally integrated Draco into the subsequent discussion, as if he had long been a member of this group.
When Ron asked Hermione.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then decided to share her experience from today: "Nios and I went to the Hogwarts kitchens today."
Her voice was not loud, but it made the few young Wizards stop what they were doing in surprise.
They hadn't expected the two of them to go to such a "mysterious" place!
"Hermione! Tell me quickly!" Ron's eyes lit up as he eagerly asked, "Is it filled with endless desserts and delicious food?"
Hermione gave him a disgusted look: "Ron, wake up. That's a kitchen, not a wish-granting house from a fairy tale."
"Then what did you two go there for?" Ron scratched his head, a little embarrassed.
Hermione didn't answer directly but gently nudged Nios beside her with her elbow.
Nios put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth, and then pulled out a fist-sized, translucent pink gem from his robe.
It lay quietly in Nios's palm, radiating a warm, strange luster under the candlelight of the Great Hall, instantly captivating everyone's gaze.
Seeing the surprise and curiosity flash in their eyes, Hermione spoke up to interrupt their reverie: "Don't guess wildly, that's just a concentrated, solidified little pink."
"Huh? little pink?"
"What's little pink?" Harry and Draco asked almost simultaneously.
Nios didn't explain much, casually put the "gem" away, and then, as if handing out candy, slipped an ordinary piece of little pink into Draco's hand.
"Keep it for fun," Nios's tone was as casual as ever. "As long as you don't put it in your mouth... or in water, it's safe."
"Huh?" Draco, holding the cool, slippery, slightly pulsating pink gelatinous substance in his hand, was completely bewildered.
What exactly... is this thing?