Chapter 34: The Beautiful Golden Snitch
Hermione Granger decided to brew Polyjuice Potion, regardless of whether Harry and Ron supported it or not, and regardless of whether the process would violate fifty school rules.
"Those Slytherins must know something," she said firmly to Harry and Ron, frowning as she stood in Myrtle's bathroom.
She would go into the Slytherin common room and see if she could find out some information about the Slytherin heir; if she was lucky enough, she would also sneak into the dormitory of that special Slytherin boy and look for Herpo's notebook to see what other terrible things were written on it.
Harry and Ron were skeptical about her theory about Draco, and they didn't support her taking such a big risk by brewing a Polyjuice Potion just because of a groundless suspicion.
"Just ask him!" Ron said impatiently, looking around the gloomy bathroom. "He'll definitely be willing to tell you something. He always thinks highly of you. By the way, you two aren't still having a fight, are you?"
"He won't tell me! He wouldn't even tell me the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, let alone such a secret? And..." Hermione hesitated and didn't continue.
There were also many things that he asked her to keep secret, and he always hid them from her.
"What else?" Harry asked curiously.
"Nothing! You don't think that if someone is the heir to the Chamber of Secrets, they would be stupid enough to tell everyone about it? They would definitely keep their mouths shut!" said Hermione.
"But, rather than saying that the heir is Draco, it's his father who is more suspicious. He is more like the heir to the Chamber of Secrets favored by Salazar than Draco..." Ron said with a blushing face.
Harry shrugged in agreement.
"Well, consider it that way," said Hermione sternly.
Hermione knew her thoughts were crazy – but she couldn't help it.
She had to do this, or else her heart would be like a boiling potion, and she would never find peace until it boiled itself dry.
She wasn't being fanciful. She'd already been familiar with the contents of "Mighty Potions," and of course she knew how to make Polyjuice Potion. Draco had recommended the book to her—and she was using his recommendation against him, in a contemptible way.
Whenever she thought of this, she felt a surge of hatred towards herself.
I hope she is just overthinking this! Hermione prayed silently.
Draco might be innocent and have nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets, but he didn't look like an evil boy at all.
He had nothing to do with evil. He looked as innocent as a unicorn.
Maybe he's just a bit aloof and likes to remain mysterious, right? she thought.
But she couldn't accept "maybe".
She must be 100% sure of this!
With a nervous mood, Hermione took the book "Powerful Potions", a bunch of potion materials, crucibles, stirring rods and other miscellaneous items, and pushed open the door of the dilapidated women's bathroom with all her strength.
Myrtle was sobbing in her cell. She had been teased by Peeves today, who had called her "full of pimples," which had saddened her and brought back some sad memories of being ostracized.
"Elizabeth, are you okay?" Hermione hesitantly greeted the female ghost in the single room.
Hearing this greeting, the ghost with long straight hair and glasses stopped crying immediately.
"Oh, Hermione, you're here again." She wiped her tears, patted her cheeks, and looked behind her quietly, "The two boys who accompanied you yesterday, aren't here today?"
"You mean Harry and Ron?" Hermione found a relatively dry spot and carefully fiddled with the bottles and jars. "They think boys shouldn't often come to the girls' bathroom. Weren't you a little unhappy about that yesterday?"
"Indeed, they're right," said Myrtle gloomily, regretting what she had said earlier. "But really—since they've already been here once, it doesn't matter."
"Oh, I'll ask them next time, okay?" said Hermione.
Myrtle nodded, suddenly happy.
She pushed up her glasses, which wouldn't fall off her face, and fluttered back and forth beside Hermione, asking curiously, "What are you going to do here? Brew a potion?"
"Yes. I thought it might be quieter here. Would you mind?" Hermione asked her.
"That's all right. You can use the rest of the room except mine," said Myrtle listlessly.
She had stopped crying and was back in the toilet tank, floating up and humming a tuneless old song.
Hermione carefully set up her cauldron, and with Myrtle's voice playing in the background, she checked the ingredients needed to make the Polyjuice Potion again from the book: lacewings, leeches, slugwort and two-eared grass... as well as the horn of a two-horned beast ground into powder... a piece of snake skin from an African tree snake... and a little thing from the person she wanted to transform into.
"The sap grass has to be picked on the day of the full moon... the lacewings have to be kept alive for twenty days... the horns of the bicorn are not easy to get... as for things like the African bush snake skin, I'm afraid I can only think of Professor Snape's private collection - I hope he doesn't catch me and turn me into a toad." Hermione murmured.
In this way, Hermione began to brew the Polyjuice Potion alone, with desperate suspicion of Draco and a feeling of anxiety.
In a way, she hoped to prove herself wrong through this incident.
She hoped more than anyone else that her inference was wrong.
However, before she figured out all this, it would be difficult for her to return to the days when they trusted each other and talked and laughed with him.
In the following days, the relationship between Hermione and Draco reached a stalemate.
Although they were still partners in Transfiguration class, they seemed to be separated by an invisible wall of ice. In Harry's words, anyone who accidentally got close to them would be frozen by the atmosphere.
Draco could sense that Hermione was keeping her distance from him and seemed determined not to make any eye contact with him.
Her cold and arrogant attitude made him feel a little uncomfortable.
She refused to look him in the eye or touch him at all, as if he were a slug!
Of course! Gryffindor, who prided themselves on being bright and righteous, certainly wouldn't want to go along with the evil Slytherin, Draco thought wearily.
In recent days, students from the other three colleges have always subconsciously stayed away from students from the Serpentine College, as if the air around them was poisonous; many rumors were spreading, and people believed that it was the evil students of Slytherin who were behind it.
She is probably no exception.
"You don't have to force yourself." He stared at her tense profile and said coldly, "If you want to change study partners, just tell me directly. I fully understand."
"I don't understand what you're talking about," Hermione said, staring at her wand like an emotionless spell-casting puppet.
She was suppressing herself, she couldn't look at him.
She had to suppress herself. This boy was too deceptive.
As long as he treated her a little better, smiled; or didn't smile, but just said a few more words to her lightly, all his suspicions would be dispelled.
Then, she would probably stop what she was doing immediately and indulge herself again in the gentle and comfortable atmosphere he created, and would never find the suspect who opened the secret room.
"What I mean is, if sitting with the 'evil Slytherin' makes you so uncomfortable and unbearable, you can leave." Draco sneered and lowered his gray eyes, which were filled with a hint of sadness. "Why bother yourself and let yourself fall into depravity?"
"Are you trying to kick me out? I take it you don't want to be my partner anymore? You think I'm unworthy, right?" Hermione raised her eyes angrily, wanting to glare at him, but found that he was no longer looking at her.
His true colors were revealed. He didn't even bother to look her in the eye.
He felt that she, a Muggle-born wizard, was not worthy of learning magic, being his partner, or even making eye contact with him. Is that what he meant?
"You're such a sharp-tongued person, putting the blame on someone else." Draco said with a dull expression, wondering if she was mocking him by saying "unworthy" while he transformed the mouse Professor McGonagall had handed out into an ornate goblet. "Whatever you say. Whatever you like."
"Very good." Hermione's face turned pale, staring at her goblet in a daze, "I'll change partners next class and give that 'noble' young Slytherin a clean slate!"
"Very good." Draco said in a bored tone, stealing a glance at her. Looking at her proud profile, he felt that she was so close yet so far away, and his heart was congested. "I couldn't ask for more."
Hermione probably didn't want to be associated with him anymore.
You've expected this day to come, haven't you? Draco looked gloomy and lowered his head.
Once she knew the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, she would no longer trust him. She would not tell him what happened on Halloween, but would be wary of him; she would probably look at him with that cold, unfamiliar look again, just like in her previous life.
He would be reverted to his original form, and become the evil Slytherin again. The evil Slytherin was "unworthy" of being friends with Gryffindor, or even "unworthy" of being a study partner.
Draco sighed and didn't dare look at her again, missing the glances that the girl next to him secretly cast at him.
Wake up, her passionate and determined eyes should not belong to you, he persuaded himself with his head down.
Like a unicorn licking its wounds alone, he didn't know where to go. His platinum-blond hair fell down, covering his eyes and his unsettled sadness.
It was no big deal. He had no expectations or illusions, had he?
But that frozen heart seemed to crack, causing Draco to feel a dull pain.
How strange. He was using Occlumency, yet he still felt pain.
Amidst this intermittent inner pain, the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor is about to begin.
On Saturday, Draco would once again face Harry on the Quidditch pitch.
This time, he would never do anything stupid again and let go of the damn Golden Snitch, giving Harry an opportunity to take advantage of it.
The referee, Madam Hooch, was almost annoyed to death by Draco.
In the week leading up to the game, Draco had urged her to inspect the game ball at least three times.
"Please spare me, Mr. Malfoy, I'm going to rub these balls until they are patinated." Madam Hooch glared.
Marcus Flint, standing by, understood this quite well and spoke up for his own team's Seeker. "Ms. Hooch, this is his first time playing. He's young and naive, so it's normal for him to be a little nervous."
"Alright." Madam Hooch took a deep breath, trying to calm her anger. "This is the final check! The competition will start in half an hour, and I still have other preparations to confirm!"
Very good, I can rest assured now. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.
He remembered his first duel with Harry vividly.
It's an experience that's hard to forget, especially when there's a terrifying Bludger chasing you around and you end up embarrassing yourself in front of your own father by falling off your broom.
First, he had to nip the Bludger, which looked like it was under a curse, in the bud, and now he had almost done that.
Secondly, he could concentrate on dealing with the Golden Snitch. As long as he found it earlier than Harry, with the speed of his broom, he was confident that he could get the Snitch earlier than Harry.
At eleven o'clock, the whistle blew.
Draco, like the rest of the team, soared into the smoky gray sky. It was a hot, humid day, with bursts of thunder in the air.
Draco looked around intently, searching for the small golden shadow.
Slytherin was in excellent form this year, their players were so high in spirits that they looked like streaks of green in the sky. By the time the rain started, Slytherin was already leading by sixty to zero.
Draco wiped the rain from his face and saw his father, Lucius, from the corner of his eye. He was sitting in the board members' stand, his long platinum hair shining even on a rainy day.
"Okay, father, this time I'll show you how powerful I am." Draco muttered.
At this moment, he saw the shadow of the thief - its pale golden wings crossed the sky, not far from him.
Draco's mouth curled up, and he turned and flew over, trying his best to speed up, because he saw a red figure of Gryffindor following him.
The Snitch seemed more interested in staying in the air than being caught. It sped up, dodging along the scaffolding beneath the auditorium, making a desperate bid for freedom and evading capture.
Draco had no choice but to grit his teeth and fly in. Harry followed closely behind, along with a damn black Bludger.
It's that Bludger again!
"What's going on?" Draco shouted at Harry, still biting the Snitch. "What's wrong with that Bludger?"
"I don't know! He keeps attacking me!" Harry shouted as he ran after Draco. "Can we blow it up?"
"No, no, that's a foul!" Draco shouted.
"That's right!" Harry cried desperately. "Wood seemed to have said so!"
"We can't deal with it unless the game is over! Unless the Snitch is caught!" Draco slowed down a little and couldn't help but look back at the rampaging Bludger.
Merlin! The nightmare has happened again.
"Then catch the Snitch! Catch it! And then deal with the Bludger!" shouted Harry, who had caught up, his broom only a length behind him.
Behind him, Draco could hear the scaffolding crumbling, the work of the mindless Bludger.
That shouldn't be the case. Didn't Madam Hooch just check it? He sped up fearfully, afraid of being hit by that crazy Bludger. This thing didn't sound like it had any idea what "gentle" meant.
At this time, the Golden Snitch finally got tired of flying between the narrow scaffolding. It seized the opportunity, returned to the open space on the court, and flew high into the sky.
This is a double test of skill and speed. Draco and Harry not only have to chase the scurrying Snitch, but also have to avoid the dark, round madman.
They had to catch the Snitch first. Otherwise, they would be stuck in this mess forever, and it would never end.
Draco made up his mind and decided to put the Snitch first.
Fortunately, the Golden Snitch was right in front of him, its dazzling light making the black Bludger behind him seem less important.
Any Bludger - as long as it gets the Snitch - Draco thought angrily.
Closer, closer, Draco leaned forward and grabbed it hard. He felt the cold, rain-soaked Golden Snitch in his palm.
Got it!
A surge of ecstasy washed over Draco, and he didn't even notice Harry yelling at him from behind, "Get out of the way!"
The Bludger that tried to hit Harry was forced to dodge quickly and run into the tail of Draco's broom due to inertia, smashing the backswing of his broom into pieces.
Amidst Harry's horrified eyes and his loud shout of "No!", and amid the exclamations from the audience, the boy with platinum hair fell straight to the ground of the court in the wind and rain like a bird without wings.
When Draco opened his eyes, it was already dark.
The hospital wing was deserted except for Captain Marcus Flint, who was napping beside his bed.
"Flint, hiss—" Draco wanted to get up, but found that the pain all over his body made it difficult for him to move.
"Please, call me Marcus." The vicious Slytherin Quidditch team captain said to Draco in a rare calm tone.
"Don't move, Draco. You have over thirty broken bones. It's a miracle you only have broken bones after falling from such a height." Marcus' words were filled with tenderness. "The team members just came to see you, but you were asleep, so I asked them to go back."
"What happened?" Draco lay there motionless, and found that only his eyes could move.
"You got the Snitch, we win." Marcus nodded at the bedside table next to Draco's bed, where there was a transparent box containing the golden snitch that Draco caught.
A sincere smile appeared on his usually gloomy face. "That was a beautiful grab, Draco. I don't think anyone will doubt your ability anymore, at least not the Slytherins."
"Oh..." Draco's nose felt sore, not sure if it was because of the pain or because of Marcus' gentle attitude.
"After you fell from the sky, your father and Professor Snape simultaneously cast a protective spell towards the sky, slowing down your impact with the ground. After you landed, you lay motionless on the lawn. People were terrified, and the Slytherin students all ran down to see you. Potter also flew down, and the Gryffindors came too." Marcus recounted the whole process in detail. His extraordinary patience surprised Draco a little.
Then it dawned on him. He knew that, at that moment, he had earned Marcus's respect and admiration. This was the only reasonable explanation for why he was willing to take the trouble to explain all this to Draco.
"How's Harry Potter?" Draco asked quietly. "The Bludger—"
"Potter's fine. As for the Bludger," Marcus said with a short laugh, cheerfully, "that Gryffindor girl, what's her name? The one who came to watch your trials? She was no pushover. She just went for the Bludger and blew it to pieces."
Draco managed a forced smile.
Come see his selection of Gryffindor girls. The tough ones. The awkward ones.
Hermione Granger.
Is she worried about him?
Although she avoided him like the devil, she blew up the Bludger.
Did she still consider him a friend, even though he was an evil Slytherin? A spark of hope ignited in his heart again.
After all, she saved his life, he should thank her, Draco thought.
At this moment, he was clearly in pain all over, but the pain in his heart that had tormented him for a long time miraculously disappeared.
"Also, your father was furious. He kept taking it out on Professor Dumbledore and Madam Hooch. I didn't think he would let it go. Later, he and we escorted you to the school hospital and just left." Marcus recalled the furious look of Mr. Malfoy yelling at the school professors and couldn't help but admire him.
"...your father, he is really an extraordinary person. That idiot Lockhart wanted to cast a spell on you, but Mr. Malfoy pushed him aside. I have never seen anyone make a Hogwarts professor so embarrassed and stand there obediently being scolded." Marcus said gloatingly.
He finished stating all this, closed his mouth, and looked at Draco with a smile.
Thank you Merlin! Thank you father! Draco didn't want to be treated by that idiot at all.
"Thank you, Marcus. I was wondering how long it would take me to be discharged from the hospital," he said softly.
"Oh, Madam Pomfrey has just given you some medicine to repair bones and help you sleep. I guess you will have to grow bones here tonight." Marcus shrugged.
At this moment, the door of the school hospital suddenly opened.
Marcus was shocked to find that the dignified and elegant lady whom he had met several times in the social salon - Narcissa Malfoy - rushed in like the wind, completely losing her composure.
She ran to Draco's bed and wanted to touch her son with her hands, but she was afraid that he would be hurt. She could only stop her hands in mid-air helplessly and asked him in a heartbreaking tone: "My poor little dragon! How do you feel?"
Marcus heard Draco say in his best lighthearted tone, "It's never been this good."
"Like this, wrapped in bandages all over? Thirty-four broken bones?" Narcissa's blue eyes filled with tears. She turned to look at Lucius who was just entering the hospital wing, and raised her voice angrily. "My son, whom I raised with all my heart and soul, was so healthy and full of life when he left home! Only a few months later, and he's become like this! I told you he was too young, he was only twelve..."
As for Lucius Malfoy, the wizard who had just been cold and cruel to the professors, and the school director who had just trained Lockhart like a dog, now seemed helpless because of his wife's rare emotional outburst, and even a little... cautious.
"Mother!" Draco stopped Narcissa in disagreement. He didn't want Marcus to see his spoiled side.
He didn't want to lose the respect of the team captain that he had worked so hard to win.
Narcissa shut up.
She realized there were outsiders present.
She realized that her hysteria did not save her husband and son any face.
She realized that this was not something a 12-year-old should be reminded of, but her little dragon seemed calmer than she was.
She stopped and tried to regain control of her emotions, feeling a little guilty about her inappropriate outburst.
As for Draco, he didn't care about Marcus's mood - as expected, talking loudly would make the body particularly painful.
Every bone in his body screamed.
Marcus rubbed his nose—knowing he should give the Malfoys some privacy—and murmured his goodbyes politely but awkwardly.
He couldn't stay any longer. The famously cold Mrs. Malfoy was shedding tears that only came once in a century, and it made him feel a little guilty about illegally employing child labor.
Draco could only look him in farewell.
After Marcus left, Draco whispered to Narcissa, who was wiping her tears, "It's okay, Mom. I'll be fine tomorrow. Look at the first golden snitch I caught. It's on the bedside table. Isn't it beautiful?"
Narcissa's lips trembled as she looked at the bedside table. She picked up the transparent box and found a beautiful golden ball sleeping, occasionally fluttering its delicate silver wings.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Mom, don't cry." Draco tried not to listen to the groaning of his bones and forced a smile at his mother. "From childhood to adulthood, I have relied entirely on my parents for support and have never earned anything on my own. This is the first thing I have earned through my own efforts, and I want to give it to you. Do you like it?"
"I like it... I like it very much." Narcissa said repeatedly in a trembling voice. She held the box tightly in her hands, tears dripping down, making wet flowers on the white bed.
"Okay, okay, Sissy. Don't worry. Someone will definitely pay the price for this." Lucius stroked her shoulder to comfort her, his face clouded with gloom.
He studied Draco for a moment, trying to force a forced, twisted smile onto his worried face. "Draco... I, I'm proud of you, my son."
"How dare you! Lucius, you are still encouraging him?" Narcissa turned and glared at her husband, his beautiful fair face filled with gloom because of his unruly tone.
But her son was overjoyed at this moment because of his father's rare and undisguised praise.
"Oh, of course. Be careful. Don't make your mother worry anymore." Lucius smiled stiffly and tried to speak in a lighthearted tone. "Next time, stay on your broom and don't fall off, okay?"
The moment he saw Draco fall, Lucius' heart almost stopped.
His silly and ambitious son almost fell to his death!
This time he happened to be there, so he could still save the situation; but what about next time? What about the next time?
He couldn't guarantee that he would come to watch the game every time, nor could he guarantee that he would cast a spell at the critical moment every time.
"Okay." Draco agreed to his father, and his smile suddenly froze. He stammered, "My Nimbus 2001—"
"That's not something you should worry about right now. Go to sleep." Lucius glanced at the battered, tailless broom lying on the bedside table and waved his hand, clearly not taking the matter seriously. "I'll take care of the broomstick issue."
Draco finally felt relieved.
He smiled at his father and fell into a short sleep accompanied by labor pains under the effect of Madam Pomfrey's dreamless sleeping potion.