Compared to the other houses, tonight felt unbearably long for the Slytherins.
The sharper ones lay awake, wondering what exactly Draco hoped to gain by doing this, turning from side to side as the question gnawed at them.
The slightly slower ones spent the night writing letters home, explaining in detail everything that had happened that evening before they could finally climb into bed with a sense of relief.
And the dullest of the lot, after a brief moment of panic over Voldemort's return, simply shrugged off what had just happened and went straight to sleep, carefree until morning.
In short, Draco's actions tonight had shaken every young Slytherin in one way or another...
Enemy?
Or ally?
For now, no one could say for sure...
...
Once most of the Slytherins had returned to their dormitories, only a handful remained: Pansy, watching Draco's profile with open curiosity; Astoria, head lowered in thought as her gaze followed the fading crowd; and followers like Goyle and Crabbe.
It was obvious that among those who stayed, aside from Pansy and Astoria—both from the Sacred Twenty-Eight—the families behind the others were nowhere near as influential.
More accurately, they couldn't compare at all to the ones who had just left.
Those who remained were either from wizarding aristocracy long past its prime or from families whose power and status mattered little.
And frankly, that made perfect sense...
If it were otherwise, they wouldn't need to pin their futures on Draco, who hadn't even graduated yet. Even if he was the future head of the Malfoy family and was already showing promise, that alone wasn't enough.
But joining him now, before he fully rose, was the only way their families could secure greater benefits—and survival—in the future.
Families like Goyle's and Crabbe's, attached to the Malfoys for generations, didn't even need to be mentioned.
As for Pansy, his childhood friend, and Astoria, the fiancée chosen without Draco's knowledge, they naturally stood on his side.
These were the people who made up Draco's following for now...
Just as everyone waited to see whether Draco had more to say, Astoria suddenly spoke. "Are you sure this is wise? Isn't your father trying to win over those families?"
"Mm..."
"From what I know of them, they'd never take such a risk."
They would never put all their eggs in one basket.
For families with deep heritage, what mattered wasn't short-term gain, but how to preserve their glory and prosperity for as long as possible.
And after experiencing someone like Voldemort—a man who once brought the entire wizarding world to its knees—they wouldn't make such a reckless bet again.
Besides, the Voldemort who had returned was far from easy to deal with.
In fact, their attitude toward Draco was already evident in how they treated that Millicent Bulstrode.
They might show a bit of awe, but expecting them to become his followers? Far too soon...
So Astoria found it hard to be optimistic about Draco's approach.
"They won't..."
"I never said I wanted them to join us."
"Huh?"
Draco's answer caught Astoria off guard and only deepened her confusion.
Had she misunderstood?
She didn't think Draco was lying or too proud to admit something. He likely meant it.
But although Draco hadn't shown any intention of recruiting them, if that wasn't his goal, then why gather everyone and tell them the truth?
It couldn't have been just to scare them... right?
Astoria, who was far from slow, rubbed her temples, completely unable to figure out what Draco was aiming for...
Meanwhile Pansy, who hadn't thought nearly that far and followed Draco without question, clung excitedly to his arm and bounced as she said, "Did you see their eyes, Draco? The way they were looking at you!"
Their eyes?
Seeing her flushed, thrilled expression, Astoria frowned, as if something had just clicked.
But before she could think further, Draco started toward the boys' dormitory, leaving Astoria no chance to ask her questions.
No need to rush.
She was sure that sooner or later, she'd get a proper explanation out of him…
…
The next morning.
The outcome was hardly surprising. To those who knew the truth, it was simply a compromise. After all, not a whisper had spread about Voldemort's return...
"Draco, look at this. I just picked it up, but I've no idea what it says."
"Today's Daily Prophet? I can pretty much guess what's in it."
"Oh?"
Draco's confidence made Pansy stop just as she was about to read it aloud. Her eyes lit up at once. If Goyle and Crabbe had been here, they would've immediately known their lady boss was scheming something again...
Ignoring Hermione, who was trying to snatch the Daily Prophet from her, Pansy stepped right in front of Draco and hid the paper behind her back.
"Ahem. Then why don't you tell me what it says? If you're wrong, you have to come to my house this holiday. How about it?"
A smug grin had barely settled on Pansy's face when Hermione's eyes went wide.
"No way! I—my parents want to thank you for what happened last time, so this holiday—"
"Granger, I invited Draco first!"
"Hmph! There's no such thing as first or last in this!"
Their tug-of-war over Draco, as if he could only choose one, made Astoria—who had been eating properly with knife and fork—roll her eyes outright. She'd figured it out already. Both girls were up to no good. Calling it a bet or gratitude was just an excuse; they simply wanted to bring Draco home.
At that moment, Goyle and Crabbe crashed right into the battlefield between the two girls, spreading the Daily Prophet out for everyone to see...
"Draco! Big news!"
"The Ministry's publicly condemning Dumbledore for negligence, and it looks like they're debating whether he's still fit to be Headmaster!"
"....."
"....."
The announcement from Goyle and Crabbe instantly froze Pansy and Hermione mid-argument. Astoria, still holding her knife, paused mid-cut, eyes widening as she looked at the Prophet on the table.
As for Draco, he stared at the paper, at Cornelius Fudge pictured silently pumping his fist on a podium, and at the huge, glaring red headlines splashed across the page.
He let out a soft, amused breath and said something that made the girls next to him exchange odd looks.
"Foolish man."
...
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