Chapter 71: Green Apple and Refresher
It was a proud tradition of the Slytherins to ridicule the Gryffindors to the utmost, taking every opportunity and regardless of the consequences.
For example, at the dinner table the next day, Pansy Parkinson displayed her usual domineering style and pretended to faint to win cheers from the Slytherin girls around her.
Draco could tell immediately who she was trying to embarrass.
"Don't do that. It's so rude." Draco said as he passed her. "I made that very clear yesterday."
"I know you have some connections with 'Potter' and his gang." Pansy said nonchalantly, turning her head to throw a wink at her group of little sisters and said to Draco, "But you have no right to control me."
Pansy Parkinson.
She, like Vincent Crabbe and Theodore Nott, was a friend of Draco's since childhood.
As one of her childhood friends, Draco Malfoy knew her character well.
She was as arrogant as any spoiled Slytherin girl and would not tolerate any disobedience.
"Who did you hang out with during the holidays? How did you acquire so many bad habits?" Draco glanced suspiciously at the group of girlfriends behind her, and inexplicably received a burst of silly laughter from the girls.
"Who you play with isn't the point. I think they're right!" Pansy folded her arms and said disdainfully, "I've finally figured it out. Scarface is taking advantage of the headmaster's favor and doing whatever he wants! Last year's house cup, the Gryffindors won unfairly! Each person gets 200 points, which adds up to 400 points. Who can beat them? What's the point of us working so hard? No matter how hard we work, it's not as good as Dumbledore's extra points!"
"What does this have to do with you pretending to faint?" Draco said impatiently. "He doesn't get extra points for fainting!"
"He got extra points for the Chamber of Secrets incident, and everyone praised him! I get angry whenever the topic of the Chamber of Secrets comes up! Last school year, because of that damn legend of the Heir of Slytherin, how many times did we get looked down upon and blamed for no reason? Almost every Slytherin was pointed at and treated like stinking shit by the other three houses! In the end, the truth came out, and it had nothing to do with us, and no one came to apologize to us, not a single one!" Pansy's face twitched. "Speaking of which, why does a Slytherin deserve only ten extra points for doing a few good things? Draco, are you convinced? Don't you feel wronged?"
It's like yesterday all over again.
At this time in his previous life, Pansy had also complained to him in the same way, as had the other Slytherin students, who were unable to conceal their resentment.
Slytherin students are inherently more arrogant than those from other houses. Most of them come from pure-blood wizarding families, often boasting of being the chosen ones of heaven and acting superior to students from other houses. However, these very same students, eager to wear their pride clearly on their faces, were traumatized by rumors surrounding the Chamber of Secrets incident last school year, and for a long time, became the object of contempt from students from other houses.
Who wouldn't feel angry? Wouldn't feel humiliated? Wouldn't feel the school's treatment was unfair?
At that time, Draco had the same idea.
He once felt that it was unfair, that he was not convinced, that his self-esteem was hurt, that Porter and his gang had taken all the good things, and that they were relying on the principal's favoritism to flatter themselves and claim to be spotless.
At that time, from a distance, he thought Potter was the most arrogant, show-off, sanctimonious and annoying person in Hogwarts.
But in this life, when Draco was close enough to Harry, when he witnessed with his own eyes the hardships and dangers Harry went through to reach the Chamber of Secrets, and personally experienced the great damage caused by the Dementors... to some extent, he could understand Harry.
He knew Harry didn't mean it that way.
Many times, Harry had no choice.
Harry Potter is just a poor man who is forced to move forward under the push of fate. What did he do wrong?
If Harry had the choice, he might have preferred his mother to be alive and give him a hug on the express train platform. He might not have wanted the lightning-shaped scar on his head that gave him a "hero halo", but would have preferred to be an ordinary, happy little wizard doted on by his parents.
The halo in the eyes of others is more like a heavy yoke to Harry, Draco thought from his own perspective.
At this moment, Pansy continued to yell at him, glancing at the Gryffindors sitting over there with disgust, "I just want to make the headmaster's favorite 'Potter' feel uncomfortable and experience the feeling of being ridiculed by other houses!"
Pansy had completely strayed from the topic. Draco sighed slightly.
The competition between colleges and the conflicts between positions are never just the fault of a single student.
We shouldn't put all the blame on Harry and make him bear more.
But Pencey didn't understand this, and neither did the disgruntled students.
It is difficult for any teenager to realize deeper problems when he is young and energetic.
They will also act only based on their personal likes and dislikes, and make subconscious stress reactions to the outside world based on the feeling of being hurt, regardless of whether this will hurt innocent people or cause more unnecessary contradictions and conflicts.
"Is it useless for me to persuade you?" Draco asked, looking at Pansy's rebellious face.
"It's useless. Someone has to stand up and pay the price for 'offending Slytherin'. I'm just seeking justice." Pansy said maliciously, "I won't show mercy to the 'Hero of Gryffindor'. I'm going to laugh at him to death and let everyone know that he's actually a coward. How could he go to the Chamber of Secrets to kill monsters when he faints all the time? There might be some shady conspiracy! Soon everyone will find out that he's a coward who doesn't live up to his reputation!"
"That's a bit extreme." There was a hint of disapproval in his tone.
"Your heart has gone astray, actually getting closer and closer to the Gryffindors!" Pansy said with a frown, "Draco, if we hadn't grown up together and knew each other well, I would have thought you were the child of a pure-blood traitor! I haven't said anything too much about your behavior, so don't bother me. Even if you don't want to laugh at him, don't stop me from laughing at him, okay?"
"Okay. Since you like to gossip and laugh at other people's words so much, I just happen to have something I want to discuss with your sisterhood," Draco approached her expressionlessly and spoke through gritted teeth in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "Last night, you and Blaise... in the broom closet under the spiral staircase on the first floor... Do you want me to continue?"
"What?!" Pansy's arrogant expression disappeared, and she looked offended. "How did you know? Did Blaise tell you?"
"No. He didn't say anything, but I have my own way. Want to try to let everyone know? Let those gossipers talk about something other than 'Dementors'? Feel the joy of rumors flying around?" Draco smiled at her mercilessly.
The Marauder's Map is really useful.
"You bastard! This is not a gentleman's behavior!" Panic finally appeared on Pansy's arrogant face. She stammered, "We are just unlucky... Peeves locked us in here... We didn't do anything..."
"Gentleman? I never said I was a gentleman. I'm a Malfoy, a Slytherin, nothing more." He calmly sat down in his usual seat and ate his oatmeal, ignoring Pansy's rolling eyes. "Also, how many people do you think will believe your rebuttal? When faced with rumors, people tend to interpret them in the most extreme way -"
"Stop! Stop talking! I don't want to learn anymore." Pansy glared at him and said angrily.
"Seriously?" Draco said. "Give it up voluntarily? Don't say I made you do it."
"That's enough!" Pansy said fiercely, "Draco, you are so rude!"
"Same here." He smiled lazily.
"You'd better keep this secret." She was extremely disappointed and waved away the group of sisters behind her. "Go, go, go, everyone, disperse! Don't block the traffic here! Daphne, what are you looking at? Go do what you need to do!"
Draco calmly watched the group of reluctant and mean girls disperse, smacking his lips. "It really took a lot of effort for you to gather such a bunch of people to cooperate with your performance."
"Don't push your luck. You'd better not let me find out that you're secretly fooling around with some girl in the broom closet one day." Pansy turned around and squeezed out a sentence through her teeth.
Draco shrugged dismissively.
A dirty place like a broom closet? What are you thinking?
A moment later, Harry and his friends rushed into the Great Hall. They sat down at the Gryffindor table and started to eat breakfast. The Great Hall was peaceful - no one mentioned the Dementors again during the whole process.
That's about right, he thought with satisfaction.
Pansy Parkinson was not a completely bad girl.
In a way, she was a little silly because she always had the thankless job of being the first to speak up.
A truly shrewd person would just hide behind her and watch the fun, fanning the flames and giving her a push behind her back.
She was just like him before. To feel the vain pleasure of being the center of attention, to be the center of the crowd, to gain that false attention, she was willing to be pushed by those around her to be the first to stand out, to take the lead in wantonly mocking others, and to take hurting others for granted.
She was not unaware of the pain such ridicule and gossip would bring. She knew it perfectly well.
She refused to be the subject of gossip, didn't she?
However, when faced with the pain of others, she became numb.
As long as the pain doesn't reach her, she doesn't really care. She doesn't know the true meaning of pain.
Just like Draco, only after knowing what the Thestrals looked like did he realize that death was not a joke.
By then, it will be too late to regret.
The dead cannot be resurrected; once the damage accumulates to a certain level, many things cannot be reversed.
He didn't have to fall into the same puddle twice in this life, and his rebellious friends had better not do that either, Draco thought with an unfathomable expression.
After Pansy was abruptly stopped by Draco, the Slytherin table fell silent.
Pansy Parkinson's stubbornness, willfulness and recklessness are well-known within the Serpentarium.
She never cared about what others thought. She only cared about her own mood when doing things.
She can be incredibly affectionate with you one moment and instantly turn hostile the next. She can smile and say nice things to people, or she can suppress anyone she dislikes and use all her sarcasm and ridicule.
There were few people she could take seriously. She had the support of a large pure-blood wizarding family, which had previously produced a Minister of Magic. The connections and influence behind her family were complex and intricate, and based on this alone, she was not someone to be trifled with.
Although the Slytherin students secretly grumbled about her arrogant personality, they were polite to her on the surface. No one wanted to directly provoke such a often crazy "gossip", "mean spirit", and "terrorist".
Draco Malfoy defeated her with just a few whispers. Who dares to underestimate him?
Under such pressure, naturally no one dared to bring up the topic of Dementors anymore.
It was barely a calm day.
Draco drank a sip of hot coffee in a daze, sighed dejectedly, and walked out of the hall.
There was a slight blue tint around his eyes, a sign of poor sleep.
He was constantly haunted by nightmares from his past life. They haunted him like maggots, and he had to resort to Occlumency many times before he could even get a good night's sleep.
And yesterday, the Dementor attack had further reactivated those nightmares—keeping him awake all night.
He felt a little regretful that he should have asked Madam Pomfrey for a dose of dreamless sleeping potion yesterday.
However, Hermione was right next to him, listening attentively, and he didn't want her to hear these things; otherwise, she would definitely look at him with that inquiring look and ask him to "confess" and tell her why he couldn't sleep.
This willful little girl, what right did she have to ask him to be honest? Draco thought bitterly, she herself was hiding something, trying to hide some secret from him.
At a quarter to nine in the morning, he was sitting in the Arithmancy classroom, about to open "Numerology and Graphics" to flip through it, when he suddenly saw Hermione rushing into the classroom breathlessly.
He raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked her to sit in the seat to his right. "I thought you were going to Divination class. This morning, I saw you seemed to follow Harry and Ron in the direction of the North Tower."
"Honestly, Draco, are you seeing things?" Hermione deftly placed the thick books in her hands on the desk, took out her quill and schedule from her bag, and gave him a mysterious smile. "How can one person take two courses at the same time?"
Draco looked at her stack of books suspiciously. The one on top was called "Mundane Philosophy: Why Muggles Don't Like to Ask Questions." He had reason to suspect it was a book covered by Muggle Studies.
"I'm really interested in your class schedule." He remembered that she had studied Divination in her previous life and had a bad relationship with Professor Sybill Trelawney.
Why is this life different? He cast his eyes on the timetable, ready to take a look.
Hermione moved swiftly, slapping his outstretched hand and saying warily, "Don't move."
So fierce? Draco pouted at her, withdrew his hand, and let it go.
It's better not to provoke her, lest he drive his study partner away. He is really impatient to cooperate with those other stupid students to complete the huge amount of calculation tasks in the Arithmancy class.
At Hogwarts, only a handful of students choose to take the Divination class, as most students are more interested in the seemingly mysterious crystal ball.
From a practical point of view, Professor Sybill Trelawney of Divination did not mind students making up some tragic prophecies, and was willing to generously give an "O" to those students who desperately cursed themselves; this was much easier than the precise calculations required by Professor Sedima Vector.
So Draco wasn't the only one curious about why others weren't taking Divination classes; Hermione had the same question.
"Why didn't you take Divination?" she asked Draco before the professor arrived.
Having already taken this course, or being quite afraid of Professor Trelawney, were not reasons that could be openly stated.
Draco had no choice but to find another way.
"Oh, I just think arithmetic is more interesting. It's a discipline based on a series of rules and strict mathematical calculations." He yawned to cover it up, lying to her without thinking. "I think it's more rigorous than crystal balls, tea leaves, palmistry, and other disciplines that interpret vague images."
Hermione was quite satisfied with his answer.
"I agree. Divination is rubbish compared to Arithmancy," she said firmly, as if recalling some unpleasant memory.
Professor McGonagall, who taught them Transfiguration, and Hermione had similar views.
In her Animagus class, she scoffed at Divination, claiming that "Divination is the least rigorous subject."
"Professor Trelawney of Divination predicted that Harry would die." Hermione whispered to Draco while Professor McGonagall was complaining.
Draco wasn't surprised.
This was how the Divination class was in the previous life, and the prophecy about Harry caused a sensation in the city.
But—"How do you know?" Draco asked, bewildered.
She had walked with him from Arithmancy to Transfiguration, and no one had discussed the rumors in between.
When did these things reach her ears?
Hermione just smiled and didn't answer. She continued to listen to Professor McGonagall's complaints about the "unreliability, excessive randomness and lack of logic" of the Divination class with a beaming face.
Sitting behind them, Ron was muttering something about "bad omen, ominous sign, foreboding of death", while Harry was feeling a little down.
The third-year class schedule was much more packed than last year's, which indirectly led to the students wolfing down their lunch. Draco sat at the dining table, feeling a little sleepy. He looked at his schedule and was dismayed to find that he had Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon.
How could he forget the Hippogriff? —The nightmare is about to begin—Draco thought dejectedly.
Trying his best to maintain his composure, he calmed down his emotions, quickly finished a large steak, and drank a large cup of coffee.
He happened to see Hermione across two long tables. She was yelling something at Ron, then angrily grabbed her schoolbag and walked out of the castle.
What happened? Who had provoked her? Draco's eyes followed her figure until she reached the door of the Great Hall before he came to his senses. He had no intention of staying there. He grabbed a green apple and stuffed it into his pocket. He hurriedly stood up and walked quickly down the aisle towards the door of the Great Hall.
Even more debatable than the upcoming terrible classes is the question of Hermione Granger's mysterious schedule.
What had she talked about with Professor McGonagall that day? Was there any secret worth hiding? The more she refused to talk, the more he cared.
This made him want to follow her and find out the truth.
That's right! He chased her just to see what was wrong with her. Draco thought his reason was impeccable.
Once he found a reason, "catching up with her and saying a few words" became something that Draco Malfoy did without any psychological burden.
"Are you okay? I see you're a little angry." He asked her tentatively, and walked slowly down the grass slope with her towards the forbidden forest.
The rain had stopped and the sky was a crisp, light gray, which reminded Hermione of the boy's eyes beside her.
The grass under her feet was still a little damp. Hermione took a deep breath, and the fresh smell of grass after the rain filled her nostrils, cheering her up a little.
"Oh, it's no big deal," she said casually. "I just found out I'm not good at everything."
She seemed particularly sensitive to the word "bad at". Draco studied her expression without blinking and found that the corners of her mouth turned down when she said this word.
"No one can be good at everything. People only have 24 hours a day, and time is extremely limited. It's great if you can do well in the part that you are interested in." He tried to persuade her.
"But I think you know everything." Hermione looked at him and said with frustration.
"Oh, that's because you didn't see me in Care of Magical Creatures," Draco said to her seriously. "I can't even conquer the textbook."
He exaggeratedly shook the madly squirming "Monster Book of Monsters" in his hand - it was tied tightly with a rope and looked very dissatisfied.
"You need to push down along the spine." Hermione couldn't help laughing and simply took his book and tried to demonstrate to him.
In a hurry, her fingers accidentally touched his fingers, and it seemed as if an electric current was induced between her fingers.
She panicked and quickly let go of his hand. Not daring to look at him, she pretended to be concentrating on touching the book.
Oh my god, is there a power leak somewhere? She was very puzzled.
Of course, Draco felt that current, too. It flowed through his fingers, down his arm, and straight into his heart. He raised his eyes, glanced at her gently, and said nothing.
At this moment, she was demonstrating. Her beautiful, nimble fingers gently stroked the spine of the book, sending a slight tingle through his heart. The fluffy brown-green cover trembled, then unfolded, resting quietly in her palm.
"Dangerous creatures, crazy textbooks. I have to rely on Miss Hermione Granger for protection in this class." Draco concealed the strange throbbing in his heart and did not dare to keep his eyes on her fingers for too long. He sighed loudly at the empty grass, as if reciting poetry.
Hermione was amused by him, but soon her smile disappeared.
She recalled her terrible performance in Divination class and the current problem just now - was it because she had too much hair and it generated static electricity?
She glanced at the boy in doubt and was caught by his gray eyes, which were filled with the light of the sky and the shadows of clouds. She asked in panic, "Are we leaving?"
"Let's go." He looked calm and composed, as if the current only existed in her heart and had nothing to do with him.
So Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and continued walking with him, telling each other some malicious jokes about Divination class and complaining about Professor Trelawney's "field of view" theory.
"All in all, I believe destiny should be in our own hands." She concluded firmly, keeping a subtle distance from him, carefully preventing the current from spreading again.
"That's right. You always thought so," he murmured, keeping his distance from her tacitly, just as she wished.
They arrived at Hagrid's hut, where a few students were already waiting, all of them looking helpless with their textbooks.
Some people tied it up tightly; some people stuffed it into a narrow and tight bag, like catching a disobedient hedgehog; and some people used a funny big clip to clamp the pages tightly.
"Help them." Draco didn't like seeing Hermione looking so worried about Divination class, so he wanted to find something for her to do. He glanced at the students who were all messed up with their books and encouraged her, "You hope Hagrid's first class goes well, right?"
Hermione hesitated for about a second, then nodded at him. He took the heavy schoolbag from Hermione's hand so that she could travel light, but he frowned the moment he took it in his hand - how many books were there in it?
However, seeing how excited she was to guide other students, her mood was indeed much higher than before.
Thanks to Merlin, Hermione had figured out how to deal with the textbook. Draco certainly knew how to quiet it down—Narcissa had told him when she bought it; it wasn't like he hadn't been in Hagrid's class in a past life.
He just didn't want to stand out in this class. If he wasn't careful, Hagrid might ask him to demonstrate how to ride the big bird, which would probably be another nightmare.
The lesson went relatively smoothly. This time, almost all the students—though Neville Longbottom still struggled with his books—had successfully opened their textbooks. Hagrid looked very pleased.
As in his previous life, the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, dressed in his moleskin coat and accompanied by his large, menacing, and timid dog, cheerfully led them to a small paddock on the edge of the Forbidden Forest to show off a dozen or so Hippogriffs.
These beasts were unpleasant to the eye! They had the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse, and the front legs, wings, and head of an eagle. Even though he had seen them before in his past life, Draco still found them ferocious and strange.
"...walk up to it and bow. If it bows back, you can pet it. If it doesn't bow, get away from it. Those claws can hurt." Hagrid said enthusiastically to his students, "Okay, who's going first?"
The students were silent.
Hermione looked at their ferocious heads and half-foot-long eagle claws, and involuntarily took a step back with Draco.
She was still so angry that she didn't stand with Harry and Ron. She stood beside Draco, separated from them by a huge rock.
She wanted to be beside him.
He was the only one who was willing to take the trouble to make her laugh and enlighten her instead of mocking her for not being good at something.
He never laughed at her.
Hagrid asked again, but still no student was willing to come forward. Finally, Harry was pushed to the front by his bad friend Ron and became the first test subject of this class.
Harry was frozen, looking very nervous, but Hagrid was already smiling at him with pride and anticipation—it was hard for anyone to say no at this moment.
Harry had no choice but to step forward and meet the orange eyes of the large bird called Buckbeak. He bowed as Hagrid had instructed and raised his head.
Buckbeak stared at him fiercely, but remained motionless, and seemed to have no intention of bowing to him.
The paddock was silent, with only the rising and falling breathing of the students to be heard. All the students were staring at Harry's movements. Hagrid saw that the situation was not good and nervously called Harry to step back.
Harry looked a little flustered. He wanted to step back, but his shoe accidentally stepped on a dead branch, making a sudden "click" sound.
Hermione was, of course, worried about Harry, who looked so tiny compared to the tall, imposing Hippogriff.
At this moment, she had no time to be angry. Worry overwhelmed all other emotions. She stared intently at the man and the bird facing off on the field, holding her breath, her heart pounding.
At this moment, Buckbeak suddenly bowed to Harry - the worried students all breathed a sigh of relief.
However, something even more frightening was about to happen. Harry's hand was trying to reach its head, getting closer and closer to its cold, steel-like beak...
Would it suddenly bite him? It seemed to be about to open its mouth towards Harry... Hermione's eyes widened.
Amidst this disturbing speculation, she panicked and suddenly grabbed the hand of the boy next to her.
The boy did not dodge, but subconsciously held her hand with his backhand, interlocking his fingers with hers exactly, as if it was supposed to be like this.
Suddenly, the electric current she had felt before became even clearer, spreading from her fingertips to the depths of Hermione's heart.
The sudden electric current froze her in place, unable to move at all.
This definitely has nothing to do with leakage or static electricity, she thought, speechless.
She didn't know what was wrong with her, why her heart started beating wildly while her mind was blank.
She even felt that there was a small heart beating between her fingers.
"He'll be fine, don't be afraid." He didn't take his eyes off Harry, just tilted his head slightly and whispered in her ear.
Perhaps because of the breeze, one or two strands of platinum-blonde hair touched her earlobes, making her feel a little itchy.
His hands were still wrapped around hers, as gentle as the autumn breeze.
She suddenly remembered that one night in Bath, he had held her hand in a dim corridor, and her nose seemed to still smell the scent of roses in the air at that time.
There was Mr. Slughorn's stuffy potions room, where he had held her hand firmly as he stirred the potion. There was his hair brushing against her ear as he leaned forward to look at the cauldron. She still felt that tickle on the shell of her ear.
Or rather, her heart seemed to be beating just as hard as it had been in that compartment where they had encountered the Dementors, when he had stood before her, holding her hand tightly, casting a mighty spell to ward off the horrible monster, so hard that she could hear it in her ears.
Harry had already ridden Buckbeak away in the wind, and most of the students on the ground were running after Buckbeak's shadow.
Only Hermione remained stunned.
Her heart was still beating at a rate that made her panic. It seemed that it was not only because Harry disappeared into the sky on a dangerous-looking creature, but also for another unknown reason.
Hagrid walked over to her happily, rubbing his big hands together and asked, "How was my first lesson, Hermione?"
"Uh, very... very exciting." She stammered, hurriedly letting go of the hand that was casually fiddling with her memory.
"I got up at five o'clock today to get ready. I wanted to leave a good impression on everyone." Hagrid's big beard couldn't hide his smile.
Hermione smiled at him encouragingly.
Hagrid looked very proud of receiving the approval of Hermione, the school bully. He ran happily to the paddock and enthusiastically invited the students to go see the other hippogriffs.
After Harry's self-sacrificing flying session, the students were obviously less afraid. Some students were even eager to try and began to pester Hagrid with questions, and the venue was filled with a lively atmosphere.
Draco didn't gather around like the other students. He was just clasping his empty hands, feeling lost, and taking a break under a nearby sycamore tree.
When Hagrid reached Hermione, she dropped his hand as suddenly as she had grasped it, and he walked away dejected.
The so-called "keeping a safe distance" was probably just a fantasy. Draco looked at her hair being blown gently by the wind, his mind wandering.
It seemed as if he could not refuse her at all. If she wanted to take his hand, he could only let her take it, and even hold it tighter.
At one point, he didn't want to let her go. Her hand strangely filled his heart, which had been empty for so many days; then, cruelly, she pulled away, leaving him feeling even emptier.
This cruel girl had made his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and stomach feel empty. Even his mouth was dry and thirsty, desperately craving a certain taste.
The taste of green apple.
Draco resigned himself to his fate and took out the green apple from his pocket, biting into it out of boredom.
If my heart is not full, at least I can fill my stomach, he thought dreamily as he looked at her face, which was rosy pink in the sunlight.
The ordinary apple was making a crisp sound.
Hermione turned her head to look at him, and found that some details about him biting the apple made her unable to ignore. She could smell the green and sweet scent, mixed with the sound of him chewing the apple slowly, which made her feel strange.
It was very strange. He kept his eyes on her as he bit into the apple.
At a certain moment, she felt that she was the green apple.
The idea was undoubtedly absurd. Hermione Granger, are you mad? she said to herself.
"Don't you want to go and see the Hippogriff?" Under his stubborn gaze, she tried to find her normal voice.
"Oh, no, I'm really not interested in that thing. Believe me, this is entirely for Hagrid's own good." Draco glanced at Hagrid from a distance, remembering the grudges and disputes between him and Hagrid over this matter in his previous life... He didn't want to have any good interaction with the new teacher.
In this life, he had no interest in "angering a hippogriff."
He shook his head and leaned idly against the thick trunk, trying to focus more on the green apple in his hand.
"That's the most perfunctory excuse I've ever heard," said Hermione dryly.
It seemed as if a little person in her mind told her that it was dangerous to go forward and that it would lead to unpredictable consequences; but she couldn't control herself and walked forward and approached him.
She raised her head slightly and looked at the platinum-haired boy, whose eyelashes were dyed a light gold by the sunlight between the treetops.
Draco said nothing, but raised his eyelids and smiled at her.
"Why do you always have green apples in your pocket?" Hermione asked him with a helpless smile, trying to hide her outburst of emotions.
"Do you want to eat?" he asked her with an innocent look.
"No, I'm not hungry." Hermione stared at his hand - the hand that had just interlocked her fingers. His well-proportioned hand was bent into a powerful arc, tightly holding the juicy green apple.
She suppressed her panic and asked him with concern, "Aren't you full?"
"I was full, but I've been feeling hungry lately." The boy in front of her licked the juice from his lips nonchalantly, his gray eyes revealing a certain joy as he stared at her closely. "Oh, maybe it's not hunger, maybe I just like the taste."
Hermione stared at his lips, suddenly unsure how to respond. His answers were rambling, his eyes strange. She felt her face grow hot. Perhaps she should drop the subject. Perhaps she should talk about something else. Perhaps she should go look at the hippogriffs instead of focusing on the boy in front of her.
She wanted to look away, but she didn't know where to look. A breeze blew gently across her cheek, and she heard the rustling of the sycamore tree above her head.
She looked up at a loss, and saw the first fallen leaf of autumn swirling down from the sky, floating past his platinum hair and light gray, bright eyes, and finally, hitting the still green grass softly, making a light "pop" sound.
This is a gentle sound that strikes directly into the heart.
It disrupted her pulse.
Hermione Granger felt something was very wrong.
Yes, something was very wrong. Ever since her Care of Magical Creatures class, she had been feeling a tightness in her chest and a burning sensation in her face.
"Is it because the wind near the Forbidden Forest is so strong that you've caught a cold? It's easy to catch a cold in autumn," Hagrid said to her with concern. "I noticed you were a little listless in the second half of the class. Why don't you go to the school hospital and get some medicine?"
So, when the bell rang, she hurried back to the castle from the Forbidden Forest, knocked on Madam Pomfrey's door, and asked her for a cup of refreshing potion.
Madam Pomfrey looked at the young master of the Malfoy family who was waiting at the door with suspicion, then checked Hermione again. In the end, she said nothing and gave her the stimulant.
"One dose is enough." She reminded him and sent Hermione out the door, who thanked her repeatedly.
As the door closed, Madam Pomfrey whispered to herself, "After all, it never hurts to be prepared."
"I hate this stuff!" Outside the door, Hermione complained miserably while drinking the medicine. "Why does the stimulant make people's ears smoke for hours on end... Is there any way to improve it and eliminate this side effect?"
"Yes, we can study it. But are you okay?" Draco asked worriedly.
What was he saying? She was so careless and didn't take care of her health, so sooner or later she would catch a cold.
She threw the empty medicine bottle into the trash can outside the school hospital, sneezed, and said sickly, "This is terrible."
"You look really bad." He approached her seriously, bent down slightly, parted his hair, and put his forehead against hers to feel the temperature.
Hermione's eyes suddenly widened.
His face was very close to hers, his nose touching hers, with the fresh scent that only a teenager could have.
Too close—her heartbeat experienced a new wave of disorder.
"What are the symptoms now?" He left her forehead, but his gray eyes were still staring at her.
"My face is hot, my ears are swollen, my legs are weak, and my heart is beating very fast..." She spoke with difficulty, listing a series of abnormalities in herself.
"Your temperature is normal, but your face is indeed red—even redder than before." Draco was puzzled. He looked her up and down for a while, then simply took her arm and sat down on the bench at the door. "Rest for a while."
Hermione nodded dizzily.
After pondering the reasons for her discomfort for a long time, he finally frowned and said, "I've long said that the Care of Magical Creatures class is unreliable. Pulling people to the Forbidden Forest to let the cold wind blow—"
"Oh, this has nothing to do with Hagrid." Hermione raised her hand weakly and waved it perfunctorily. "I don't see anyone else catching a cold."
"That means you're under too much pressure from studying. Merlin, it's only the first day of school!" Draco casually flipped through the books she had brought with her. "'Seeing the Future Through the Mist'? What did you bring it for? Do you need to take this class?"
Hearing his question, Hermione wanted to turn her head to refute him, but suddenly, she saw his profile and suddenly felt physically and mentally hurt, and her lungs suffocated.
She thought she might die.
It must be the side effect of that stimulant potion! She thought with tears in her eyes.
"And 'Family Life and Social Habits of British Muggles'. What is this, a textbook for Muggle Studies? You're a Muggle-born wizard, do you still need to read this?" Draco continued to ask as he lowered his head and flipped through the book.
Hermione didn't dare look at him again.
"I think studying Muggles from a wizarding perspective is very interesting. It opens up a different perspective..." She clenched her fists and spoke in a weak voice. With smoke coming out of her ears, she couldn't display her usual energetic demeanor, nor could she explain the significance of Muggle Studies to her.
"Even if you are interested, there is no need for you to carry them with you. You have classes all day today, how do you have time to read these books?" Draco said helplessly.
Hermione didn't know how to answer, so she grabbed her collar, huddled on the bench and kept silent.
"Where are you going next? Back to the dormitory to rest for a while?" Draco asked.
"Oh no, I still have to go to the library to finish Professor McGonagall's homework..." Hermione struggled to her feet.
She saw Draco's face suddenly darken.
"You're sick," he reminded her.
"Not that ill. In fact, I'm almost well!" she said, blushing.
"Okay." He looked unhappy, picked up her pile of books, and walked away in big strides.
"Where are you going with my book?" Hermione was so nervous that she didn't care about her own embarrassed appearance and trotted to catch up with him.
"Library!" he said impatiently, slowing his pace. "Do you think I'm going to let you carry this mountain of books by yourself? You're sick, why are you trying so hard?"
"Oh, thank you," she whispered.
"Of course you have to thank me. I don't even carry my own books myself!" Draco said in a somewhat arrogant tone, carefully tightening the pile of books between his arms.
Hermione followed him, shaking her hands - she was still sneezing unpleasantly from the effects of the medicine - with a subtle smile on her lips.
Madam Poppy Pomfrey stood quietly for a long time behind the door of the school hospital.
She looked at the boy and girl walking away with green eyes and said with a sigh: "Oh... so sweet."
"Oh, it's so bitter." In the ward, behind the door curtain of a bed, a black-haired patient held a medicine cup and complained weakly, his handsome and thin face full of distortion.
"Sirius, you are not a child anymore. Do you still need me to feed you candy? Drink it all. Don't even dare to leave a drop!" Madam Pomfrey's eyes flashed, she put her hands on her hips, and turned back into the serious and responsible female school nurse.