Draco's odd stare made Pansy, who had assumed she hadn't been noticed, freeze a little. Her head turned back toward him stiffly, like a rusty, unoiled machine.
And as the seconds ticked by, the faint, teasing smile on Draco's lips made her gaze dart around, clearly flustered.
"So... when did you start taking an interest in the Chosen One?"
"..."
"What's with that look?"
Flushed with embarrassment, Pansy smacked the pillow beside her as if it were Draco himself, venting her frustration.
That little outburst gave her away completely, and Draco shook his head with an amused grin.
"I came here because I was worried and thought you should know... and you're over here suspecting... suspecting..."
"Suspecting what?"
"Ugh…"
Faced with Draco's amused half-smile, Pansy's face only turned redder.
Of course, she would never admit that she'd made the trip just to see what Draco's dorm looked like.
Even if she was a bold, precocious little princess who had long since come to terms with her feelings, that didn't mean she was ready to blurt out something so embarrassing. She was still a girl, after all—a cute one, at that.
She shot him a sulky glare.
Pursed her lips awkwardly.
Just as the air between them started to feel a little too charged, Draco gave a soft cough, breaking the awkward tension.
"Ahem. Let's go. I didn't eat anything on the train."
"Hey! Wait for me!"
Startled by his sudden move, Pansy blinked, then gave a little hop to her feet and quickly followed after him.
As she walked, Pansy noticed something: Draco's pace was oddly brisk. The realization made her giggle softly to herself.
Draco, now walking ahead, didn't notice the dazzling smile on Pansy's face—sweet enough to make someone dizzy.
Nor did he see her tiny fist pumping the air in quiet triumph...
...
From the Slytherin corridor came the sound of a cheerful melody.
If you listened closely, you'd recognize it as one of the famous Frog Choir's songs—well known throughout the wizarding world.
If she wasn't mistaken, the song was Green...
Draco tilted his head slightly toward Pansy, who was clearly in high spirits. She was humming the tune, and her joyful expression was obvious even to a fool.
Whatever had happened earlier, it had clearly put her in a very good mood.
Draco, who had a vague idea why, didn't bother asking.
Just when he thought the subject had been dropped, Pansy stopped humming and returned to the conversation they'd left unfinished.
"So... aren't you even a little curious what the Chosen One's investigating?"
"Sounds like you already know something. Otherwise, you wouldn't be asking."
Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew Pansy wasn't the nosy type. If she kept bringing this up, she must've uncovered something important.
Now she had his attention.
"Actually, I found out by chance over the holiday. Do you remember when Goyle mentioned someone named Flamel?"
"Yeah… So you've figured out who this Flamel is?"
Back then, Draco hadn't thought much of the name.
He didn't expect Pansy to have actually tracked down who the mysterious Flamel was—and now, he was genuinely curious.
The moment Draco said that, Pansy glanced around cautiously. After making sure no one else was nearby, she leaned in and whispered so softly that only the two of them could hear.
"Nicolas Flamel. The Philosopher's Stone—he can make the Elixir of Life."
Just those few words made Draco's heart skip a beat.
With his deep knowledge of magic, he knew exactly who Nicolas Flamel was—and what the Philosopher's Stone meant.
"So... it's the Philosopher's Stone?"
Draco recalled what the name Nicolas Flamel signified, and what kind of object the so-called Philosopher's Stone really was.
At the same time, he instantly thought of the three-headed dog Hermione had mentioned before—the one apparently guarding something.
It might've been unrelated, but Draco couldn't shake the feeling that there was some strange connection between the two...
"What do you mean by that? Did you remember something?"
"Think back to the Sorting Ceremony. Remember the warning the greatest wizard gave to all the students?"
"You mean... the third-floor corridor that's off-limits to all students? But what does that have to do with Nicolas Flamel?"
"Never mind. Just forget I said anything."
...
There's nothing more infuriating than someone who stops mid-sentence and leaves you hanging.
Naturally, Pansy was annoyed. She grabbed Draco by the sleeve, clearly intending to hold his meal hostage until he gave a proper explanation, forcing him to stop in his tracks.
Even so, Draco had no intention of telling her about the three-headed dog.
Because if things were truly as he suspected, then someone behind the scenes was orchestrating everything—and their goal had to be significant.
Draco didn't believe Harry Potter stumbled onto so many secrets by pure luck or coincidence.
So, until he had a clearer picture, Draco wasn't going to let Pansy get pulled into it.
"Listen. I'm not planning to investigate any further, and you shouldn't be trying to dig into it either."
...
Alright, maybe it was domineering, but to Pansy, Draco's tone was like sweet poison.
Irresistible—and willingly indulged in.
Seeing her adorably sulky expression, the way she quietly let go of his sleeve with a pout that said "you're not playing fair," Draco let out a silent sigh of relief.
There were plenty of reasons he didn't spell things out, but the biggest one was his unease toward the idea of eternal life. That word alone triggered a strange sense of dread and caution in him—enough to make him refuse to let Pansy get involved so easily.
His instincts were screaming at him: something was definitely happening around him...