Chapter 25: From Potter to Harry
"So, how is it?" As usual, Draco rested his hands behind his head, lying on his back leisurely on the grass under the big oak tree by the Black Lake.
The shadows of the oak leaves fell on his face in patches, making it difficult for Hermione to read his expression.
A week has passed since the exam, and today is the day when the results will be released.
Because of the agreement he made with Hermione, Draco couldn't help but feel a little curious about the outcome.
"That—" Hermione looked down at him amid the rustling of leaves in the wind, and was suddenly speechless.
She was a little unconvinced and a little helpless.
With her fluffy brown hair and frizzy expression, she looked like an unhappy cat whose sweet dream had been interrupted under the scorching June sun. Draco narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at her through the gaps between his eyelashes.
"There will be a next time. Draco Malfoy, don't be so proud for too long." She squatted down, looked at his fluttering eyelashes, and said threateningly, "The gap between us is not that big. One day I will surpass you. And then, you will have to tell me everything."
"Then you must work very hard. Never doubt a Malfoy's determination to keep a secret." Draco stood still, revealing a bright and brilliant smile.
It seems that the top position has changed.
In this life, many things are changing.
He likes change.
That means, hope.
A faint, sporadic, precious hope.
To Hermione, Draco's smile at that moment was extremely unusual.
To be exact, this smile was very uncommon to anyone in Hogwarts.
She had rarely seen him smile a genuine, full smile—except for that brief moment after the flight—and he hadn't smiled much all year. For the record, that polite fake smile didn't count.
This boy is like a pearl oyster.
He did not have the Gryffindor-like enthusiasm, but at the same time he also lacked the mindless malice displayed by some Slytherins; he had some kindness and tenderness in his heart, but she would only see it in certain critical moments.
He usually wore a calm, bored, and arrogant expression, polite yet distant. Occasionally, she'd see him act like he wasn't going to mess with someone—if someone dared to provoke him. The rest of the time, he had a cold, indifferent air, seemingly unconcerned with anything, completely uninterested in everything.
Yes, cold-eyed observation, that's the word, Hermione thought to herself.
You rarely see a genuine smile on Draco's face because everything seems to have nothing to do with him.
But even so, Hermione thought he was handsome enough. Among the boys of the same grade, no one was as handsome as him.
So, when this platinum-haired boy showed a genuine and happy smile, with deep eye sockets, shallow eyes, a hint of pink on his cheeks, and the curve of his mouth was perfect...
Oh my god, what can I say?
From the perspective of a 12-year-old girl, she could only think of some superficial descriptions: even if all the flowers by the Black Lake were picked and piled together, they would not be as beautiful as his smile.
Hermione suddenly couldn't be angry with him anymore.
Although he was very cunning, he still refused to confess anything to her.
She snorted, glanced at him furtively, stood up, and wanted to turn around and leave, but then she turned back hesitantly and asked him in a proud tone: "Will you write to me during the holidays?"
Of course. Is there any need to ask? He thought subconsciously.
But was she expecting him to write to her? He sat up and studied her demeanor with a careless expression.
Looking at her arrogant and stubborn look, it seemed that she would not leave easily without his answer.
—She probably wouldn't mind him writing to her.
But if we were just "ordinary friends," what would be the appropriate response? The boy pondered.
"Oh, once I have time." Draco yawned half-heartedly and said lazily, "You know, I'm very busy."
Now, Hermione felt a little lost.
The cold and arrogant boy is not cute at all.
She frowned at him, curled her lips, and walked away decisively.
Leaving behind the boy with platinum hair - he lay down again, facing the sky shaded by oak trees, and smiled slightly.
Draco wasn't lying.
How many things does he have to worry about!
The Dark Lord's soul had not yet been resolved and could be resurrected at any time, which made him extremely worried and unable to sleep at night.
If you want to destroy the Dark Lord's Horcrux - Ravenclaw's Diadem, according to Ms. Grey, you can try the sword, fierce flame and fang.
These three things are more difficult to obtain than the other, and none of them can be easily obtained.
Could the Fiery Blaze and its counter-curse possibly exist in the Hogwarts library?
Thinking of this, Draco could no longer smile, nor could he enjoy this rare moment of leisure.
He stood up resignedly, brushed off the grass debris on his body, and ran towards the library reluctantly.
The library was quiet and deserted. In the past, the senior students who had been stationed here for a long time had escaped from their misery by the end of their exams, either sleeping soundly or celebrating with drinks.
Only Madam Pince remained at her post, listlessly dusting the bookshelf in the corner with a feather duster.
Draco went straight to the restricted section. In a row of bookshelves he had never set foot in before, he casually searched for those strange, interesting, and obscure books on the dark arts.
Today, he seemed to have a problem with books with voices: first, he opened a dark-stained volume, and a faint whisper came from it; he changed to another one, and the large black and silver book was even more excessive, it actually screamed at him, and he slammed it shut and quickly stuffed it back into the bookshelf - before it uttered more high-pitched, deafening screams at him.
Rubbing his temples, he decided to change places to see if he could find any information related to the Fierce Fire Curse.
Where did Crabbe find this spell at that time? He had tested him yesterday, but unfortunately, Crabbe still knew nothing about it.
And how could he contain the terrifying, inexhaustible Fiendfyre? He pondered as he moved through the bookshelves. Clearly, judging by the ominous results, Crabbe knew very little about the Fiendfyre's counter-curse.
As for the Sword of Gryffindor, how could you expect a Slytherin to know anything about it?
In her previous life, Bellatrix cared a lot about the sword.
She even used it as an excuse to torture Hermione.
Torturing her with every knife.
To find out the authenticity of the sword, to find out if they had been to her vault. That mad woman!
And Hermione Granger, screaming, gritted her teeth with a bravery that he could not understand, and refused to betray her friend or tell the truth.
The sword. The sword of Gryffindor.
During his seventh year, Bellatrix had taken the sword from the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts and placed it in the Lestrange vault, and Draco had assumed that Dumbledore had kept it.
But now, Ms. Grey said that the sword was missing.
This means that the elusive Sword of Gryffindor most likely appeared in recent years, and after its appearance, it was obtained by Dumbledore and placed in the headmaster's office.
I'll have to find out about it sometime, Draco thought.
And fangs.
According to memories from previous lives, Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets will be inexplicably opened in the next school year.
Although in a way, this was a good thing, as it meant that he had a slightly better chance of getting the basilisk's fangs.
But he didn't want anyone to be petrified. He didn't want her to be petrified.
Although Professor Sprout's Mandrake can be used to make a resurrection potion...
But if you are not careful, you may lose your life.
He was tired of death, and he didn't want to see her get hurt, he thought with a pale face.
The scratches on Hermione Granger's body were Draco Malfoy's lifelong nightmare.
She should have been able to stay in the library and read comfortably, safely, without any scars.
He exhaled, blocked his memory, and started walking back and forth in front of the bookshelf again. Finally, he was stopped by a book - a yellowed, old library book.
His slender fingers flipped through the pages quickly, finally stopping at a page that contained a description of the basilisk:
"...the basilisk, also known as the king of snakes...can grow to enormous sizes and live for hundreds of years...born from toad eggs...with fangs of deadly poison...anyone who looks directly into a basilisk's eyes dies instantly. Spiders flee at the sight of a basilisk...the crowing of a rooster is fatal to a basilisk."
In the previous life, the people who were petrified did not die simply because they were lucky and did not look directly at the basilisk, not because the basilisk could not kill people.
It's too dangerous.
It's too dangerous for her.
Maybe he should try to persuade her not to run around so much.
Maybe he should brew some Mandrake resurrection potion in advance, just in case.
Draco absentmindedly took the book in his hands, ready to go back and study it carefully.
There was still too little useful information. In the past, Hogwarts had always been very secretive about the Chamber of Secrets.
Although Potter and Weasley had cracked the secret of the Chamber of Secrets, successfully rescued the little red-haired girl from the Weasley family, and even won a special contribution award... few Hogwarts students knew very clearly about the process of their hostage rescue.
Draco, as Potter's former "enemy", had no chance, no qualifications, and no interest in knowing the specific details. At that time, he was only concerned with other things.
He scratched his hair in annoyance, thinking hard, trying to find some clues from his limited memory.
At this moment, two reckless figures flashed out from the other side of the bookshelf, scaring Draco.
"Potter? Weasley?"
"Draco, there you are!" Potter said, looking delighted.
"Why are you two here?" Draco looked at Potter and Weasley suspiciously. "You two shouldn't be staying indoors on such a nice day."
"Aren't you in the room too?" Weasley asked puzzledly.
Draco fell silent.
"Don't be so formal, you can call me Harry." Harry said to him kindly.
"By the way, you can call me Ron," Ron added.
Draco raised an eyebrow, momentarily surprised.
In his previous life, he had never experienced such a scene. They were actually willing to let him call them by their names, which was an honor only enjoyed by close friends.
This was probably the most unexpected "change" he had experienced throughout the year.
"I heard from Hermione that you might be in the library, and I... I just wanted to come and say thank you to you." Harry smiled at him kindly, "A lot has happened this year, and you've helped us a lot. You saved our lives! You defeated that terrible troll! You also helped us discover Quirrell's true identity, although I still don't like Professor Snape, he's too vicious... He's always been very harsh on us..." Seeing Draco's gloomy face, he knew he was standing up for his own head of house, so he wisely changed the subject.
"Also, the Petrification Charm you had us practice, although in the end, it didn't come in handy to me, but Hermione saved me, thanks to you..." Harry scratched his ear, "Now that I think about it, it seems Nicolas Flamel was also found in the chocolate frog you gave me."
"Harry, I think you're overestimating my role," Draco said tactfully, downplaying the incident. "But I'm curious, is the Philosopher's Stone okay?"
"Dumbledore said Nicolas Flamel decided to destroy it," Harry disagreed. "Dumbledore also said that death is just a great adventure."
"I beg to differ." Draco said with a complicated expression.
That old man Nicolas Flamel must be crazy!
Did he know what it meant to destroy this rare and precious alchemical product that could transform any metal into pure gold?
Nicolas Flamel, he must have been fooled by Dumbledore and gone crazy.
"Yes, I understand. I also think Dumbledore is a little crazy." Ron looked at his distorted face and shrugged.
"Oh, and you told Hermione to tell me to focus on Quidditch training and not worry about grades," Harry said cheerfully. "You were right. Ever since we won the Quidditch Cup, my classmates haven't glared at me anymore."
"Okay, so you're showing off your trophy in front of me?" Draco bristled at the thought.
In the final Quidditch Cup match at the end of the term, Harry Potter successfully snatched the Golden Snitch from the Ravenclaw Seeker - meaning that Gryffindor finally won the Quidditch Cup.
Because of this, Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin team, got angry at the house team players in the common room and threw things around.
The House Cup therefore belonged to Gryffindor.
Slytherin House suffered the same Waterloo-style defeat as in the previous life.
"I told you not to thank me for this!" said Ron, tugging at Harry's clothes. "I knew he'd be mad!"
"That's not what I meant... Anyway, thank you." Harry pulled Ron up and tried to slip away before Draco got angry.
"Potter! Just wait until I join the team and beat you to a pulp!" Draco finally lost the calmness and elegance he had maintained for a whole year and shouted at their backs.
The two small figures didn't even pause as they rushed out of the library at high speed.
"Stop shouting or you'll be kicked out of the library." Madam Pince appeared from nowhere and glared at Draco, as if the feather duster in her hand had finally found a use.
At this time, Harry and Ron had no idea what kind of person they had "offended".
He was a person who appeared innocent on the surface but was actually scheming and trying to stir up trouble.
"Oh, do me a favor," Draco said to the Weasley twins with interest on the Hogwarts Express. "Ron and Harry must try it."
It refers to the nosebleed nougat that the twin brothers are showing him.
"No problem. We plan to use this summer vacation to do some more experiments." The Weasley twins said to Draco with a smile.
"Besides this, we're also working on spit candy. I bet those students who don't like classes will like it." George, or Fred, said smugly.
"Good idea," Draco said. "Just don't give it to me."
Not surprisingly, the twins looked a little disappointed.
"Okay." They turned their malicious eyes back to the window, locking onto Ron who was struggling to drag his luggage on the platform.
Draco looked at the other side of the platform, where there were two familiar figures.
Lucius and Narcissa stood side by side on the platform.
The father, holding his cane, stood out of place among a group of expectant parents, showing his usual disgust at the noisy crowd around him.
The mother was still as arrogant and contemptuous as ever, and was saying something to her husband with disdain.
Their unchanging arrogance made Draco feel inexplicably satisfied, but also hesitant and stressed.
"What made you so slow to get off the car?" Lucius snorted and showed a look of disgust as soon as he saw Draco.
However, his body was very honest and automatically took the cart from his son.
Narcissa took her baby son's hand and smiled, "Welcome home, Draco.