Chapter 74: Astronomy Tower on a Starry Night
Draco Malfoy was climbing the steep spiral staircase of the Astronomy Tower with tired steps.
If he hadn't had an astronomy class in the evening, he wouldn't have wanted to walk towards this ominous, lightning-struck tower, a place that filled him with shadows deep in his heart.
He's not in good shape today.
Just now, he just took a short nap in the dormitory, but he had countless nightmares.
In his dreams, Marvolo always pounced on him with a grin, screaming and wanting to strangle him, and said that he was the thief who took the Slytherin locket.
What a vicious dream.
He quickly fled from the dream, from the four-poster bed, and fled from the bedroom at the bottom of the black lake filled with strange shadows and whispers as if he were fleeing from a man-eating monster.
As the soles of his shoes made a light sound on the stone steps, he took a deep breath of the fresh night air in the tower and finally felt the long-lost clarity of mind.
There is no moonlight tonight, but there are many stars, which is a perfect time for an astronomy class.
The Bloody Baron was groaning as he drifted downstairs—when students came to class, he always chose to leave the tower temporarily to avoid their curious or frightened gazes.
Just as the two passed each other, the ghost suddenly raised his dull eyes and murmured expressionlessly, "You're here."
Draco nodded silently at him, not sure why he suddenly spoke.
"You smell evil." He said something without thinking, and then returned to his humming state and slowly left.
Draco lifted his sleeve in confusion and smelled himself, but found no strange smell.
He should have thought more about what Barrow meant by that; but today he was exhausted and his heart was numb and desolate.
Let's just assume this is just another one of the Bloody Baron's nonsense, he thought lazily, and walked slowly into the classroom with the huge astronomical model hanging on the wall.
When Hermione appeared at the Astronomy Tower, she saw this scene: a pale-faced young man looked up at the sky melancholy, his platinum-blonde hair looking somewhat dull under the flickering candlelight. He leaned against an iron railing with a frown, staring at the inky black night sky through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.
There was a kind of beauty about him that seemed about to be shattered. As if he were about to be blown away by the wind, or plummet to the bottom of the tower. Hermione shook her head, trying to dispel this ominous feeling from her heart.
"Draco, are you okay?" She held her breath and lowered her voice, afraid of breaking him.
"Not bad." He didn't look back at her, his tone as light as unboiled distilled water.
"You seem to be worried about something." She looked at him without blinking, secretly hoping that he would turn around and look at her instead of staring at the dark void.
"It's no big deal," Draco said glumly, and sighed.
He forced himself to look back at Hermione. Her cheeks were a soft pink, and her hair was slightly damp and draped over her shoulders, making her look like she had just showered.
Unlike before, her hands were bare, holding only a small telescope. The lines of her neck and collarbone were rarely freed from the constraints, freed from behind the heavy books.
Her expression was a little serious at first, but when she saw him turn around, she smiled faintly at him.
Draco's mood improved a lot.
A faint scent of green apples wafted on the wind, neutralizing the heavy bitterness in his spirit. He suddenly felt an emptiness in his stomach.
"Tell me, Draco, why aren't you having dinner?" Hermione asked him, eyeing him with a certain suspicion.
"I ate it." He told her casually.
"Nonsense, you weren't even at the table!" She glared at him. "I saw you in the hall! You went back to the Slytherin common room during dinner, didn't you?"
"I'm not hungry." Draco turned his face away.
"Nonsense! Look at your face, it's so pale!" Hermione said angrily.
Draco touched his face in a daze and looked at Hermione in confusion.
"I've been white since I was a child—"
"Wrong! Absolutely wrong! Your condition is called hypoglycemia in the Muggle world. Your truly healthy face is a little pink, and you are healthy after eating..." Hermione kept talking. Draco wanted to hide from her, but she followed him and refused to give up.
"Okay. What can I do? I've already missed dinner." He shrugged, looking innocent.
With her interruption, he had long forgotten those disturbing and terrifying visions. His eyes and mind were filled with her relentless and angry expression.
"Here you go." Hermione furtively pulled out a bulging brown paper bag from her robe pocket. Inside was a green apple, a piece of warm pumpkin pie wrapped in paper, and a large piece of chocolate cake.
Draco looked surprised, and his expression froze for a moment.
It feels amazing.
When you are on top of a high tower, surrounded by loneliness that penetrates deep into your bones, and recalling with despair the filth, sin, sharp blades and thorns, and feel that the whole world is so far away from you, this innocent girl suddenly runs over, with her unique liveliness and the sweet smell of food, and lords over all your attention, pulling you out of your decadence and depression effortlessly.
"I used a heat-keeping charm," Hermione said proudly. Like a little mouse that had stolen cheese, she pulled him into the open area under the observatory. "Look, it's still steaming! Eat it quickly, before class starts and Professor Sinistra isn't here yet."
Inexplicably, the young Malfoy imitated Hermione and sat cross-legged on the ground, ignoring dust, manners and dignity.
Under her supposedly encouraging gaze, he took a big bite of the sweet, warm pumpkin pie.
"Thank you. It's delicious." Draco whispered, and suddenly felt a little sour in his nose.
Then he saw her magically pull out a strange Muggle cup from her other pocket and pour hot tea into the lid.
"What is this weird thing?" He was a little dazzled by her operation, and the sour feeling in his nose disappeared instantly.
"It's a thermos cup invented by Muggles. The principle is a bit like casting a heat preservation spell on the tea." Hermione explained to him briefly, and then urged him with a little happy light in her eyes, "Drink it, your favorite black tea, isn't it?"
"Of course. My favorite." He smiled at her, sniffing the lingering aroma of tea, his eyes brighter than the stars in the night sky.
"I now feel that your spiritual number should be 1. You are much more willful than me. You don't eat at will... Don't you always say that you are hungry? Are you planning to starve yourself to death? Do I have to force you to eat every day?" Hermione said to him with a stern face.
Draco ignored her feigned fierceness. With a father as awkward as Lucius, the underlying concern behind Hermione's little trick was as clear as an open book.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I made you worry."
Hermione frowned at him, wanting to yell at him again but not knowing what to say - he was too good at admitting his mistakes, leaving her with no room to maneuver.
Draco chuckled at her troubled expression and reached out to smooth her frown.
Without thinking, he said softly, "The moon is so beautiful tonight."
Hermione looked surprised.
At a certain moment, she strangely felt that he was caressing not only her eyebrows, but also her heart.
She didn't have time to dwell on this bizarre thought, because his words today were clearly a bit foolish. So she looked up at the night sky and chuckled, "Draco, are you hallucinating from hunger? There's no moon tonight. But the wind is very gentle."
He just looked at her and smiled without saying anything.
Amid the increasingly noisy chatter of students, he finished his hot food as quickly as possible.
These foods reawakened his warmth and vitality, and even strangely alleviated the fear and heaviness that the tower had brought him. He felt his soul become light again, and his heart was warm.
"How did you find this place?" He had wanted to ask this question for a long time. Few students would discover the hidden world beneath the observatory.
"It's just a coincidence." She smiled mysteriously.
"Another 'unspeakable' secret?" He frowned slightly.
"That's right. Class has already started, let's sneak up." Hermione said with a lively glint in her eyes.
Under the cover of night, they quietly slipped back to the observatory, hiding behind the students, and listened to Professor Sinistra excitedly explain the learning goals for the new school year:
"...You've basically mastered the names of the stars and the orbits of the planets. Starting this year, you'll learn about the motion of galaxies and how to draw astrological charts."
Professor Sinistra flicked his wand above the classroom, and the previously stationary metallic galaxies began to accelerate, revealing the mysteries of their motion to the students. "I know you've already started taking Divination or Arithmancy, so this will be a great way to combine your studies, predict the future, and reveal your destiny..."
A myriad of galaxies appeared in the sky above the classroom. For the beginners, this was a truly astonishing sight. The students were mesmerized and exclaimed in amazement.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Hermione whispered.
Draco looked at the stars lazily, and hummed casually through his nose.
"I think I see you, Draco," Hermione said with a sudden smile. "I've found the positions of Gamma Draconis and Beta Draconis. They're quite bright, aren't they?"
Following the direction Hermione pointed, Draco tried to identify it and finally expressed his agreement, "I think you're right."
"Which is your favorite star?" Hermione looked at his angular profile and suddenly asked a somewhat silly question.
Under normal circumstances, Draco would probably tease her - this was not a question that a top student who preferred rigorous and rational subjects would ask.
But tonight, under the influence of hot tea and food, looking at those bright eyes that sparkled with stars, he became more patient: "When I was a child, my favorite star was Vega (Alpha Lyrae), also known as the famous Weaver Girl. You see, Draco is not easy to find, and sometimes it is a little dim--"
"Indeed," said Hermione pointedly, "it's a somewhat cunning star."
"It's a bit cunning indeed." Draco gave her an inscrutable smile, looking at her quietly with his cool gray eyes. He whispered, "If you can't hit the target directly, try a roundabout way. If you can find the bright star Vega and look nearby, you'll be able to more easily identify the four stars that make up the head of the Draco."
"Circumvention?" Hermione asked with interest. "That's an interesting word."
Draco drawled, "Slytherin's usual trick."
"Are you teaching a Gryffindor how to use Slytherin's methods?" Hermione laughed. Half believing and half doubting, she tried to observe the stars using his method. After a moment, she said in surprise, "I actually found it."
"You'll find it soon, right? Faster than going straight to Draco, right?" Draco asked her in a low voice, looking at her vivid profile and surprised expression.
"This—" She was speechless. Although it worked, the little Gryffindor witch still had her own pride and did not want to directly admit that Slytherin's method was superior.
So she observed her Draco and rambled on about other topics: "I found that the study of names is really a mysterious thing. Not only can it be used for arithmetic divination, but some ancient magical families also like to use stars to name themselves. For example, Draco (Draco), Sirius (Sirius)..."
"You're right." Draco didn't look at the stars, but kept looking at her.
He whispered, "The Black family likes to name the next generation after stars. This reflects the good wishes of the fathers for the next generation. Similar names include Bellatrix (Gamma Orionis, Betelgeux), Regulus (Alpha Leonis, Regulus), and Arcturus (Alpha Boötes, Arcturus). Most of them are very bright stars in the galaxy - although the end of the wizards with these names is not necessarily very bright."
During his explanation, Hermione observed the trajectory of the stars near the North Celestial Pole with great interest. She seemed fascinated by the stars and did not speak anymore.
Professor Sinistra was talking again.
Draco felt uninterested in the lecture he had already attended once. He absentmindedly adjusted the telescope in his hand and fell into deep thought.
The vision of our parents is just a vision.
The brighter the star, the sooner it falls. Take Regulus Arcturus Black for example.
Regulus is the brightest star in Leo, which means "heart of the lion". Draco glanced at the star, which was already dim in the autumn night sky.
Arcturus is the brightest star in the constellation Bootes and the brightest star in the night sky of the Northern Hemisphere.
Draco couldn't imagine how much hope the Black family must have on someone with two such brilliant names in a row.
However, such a gifted child was as short-lived as a blooming flower - he disappeared more than ten years ago when he was only 18 years old.
This grief-stricken Great-Aunt Walburga to the point of madness. According to her mother, Narcissa, she had once been a dignified young lady, popular in the pure-blood wizarding world for her elegant and intellectual style. But after this blow, she gradually withered and turned into an ugly old woman who cursed.
"My cousin Regulus was once a loyal supporter of the Dark Lord and enjoyed his trust. This made Aunt Walburga extremely proud," Narcissa once said to Draco. "But in the end, not even the remains of her beloved son could be found, leaving only her most hated, rebellious son Sirius to inherit the Black House. What a irony."
Sirius Black, the troublemaker! A liberal who followed his own way, never considering the turmoil his actions would bring to his family. Draco thought angrily at this moment.
He finally understood his mother's fear and dissatisfaction with him. Sirius Black didn't care how much harm his actions would cause to others. He was so arrogant!
A wave of frustration washed over Draco again. If only he had known he wouldn't have let his mother provoke this rebellious son of the Black family. He was such a ruthless scoundrel!
I'll ask my mother about this indirectly later.
It would be best not to have even the smallest contact with the Black heir, Draco made up his mind.
After midnight, students who had finished their astronomy class came down from the top of the towering tower in groups of three or four.
After saying goodbye to Hermione, Draco returned to the dormitory with a lot on his mind and fell heavily on the soft mattress.
He fell into a nightmare again.
This time, he seemed to be at number 12, Grimmauld Place, and as he walked past the tapestry in the doorway, Great-Aunt Walburga was calling him a "traitor."
He ran to the living room on the second floor, and Kreacher, the incredibly old house-elf, jumped out. He pinched his neck like Marvolo had pinched Ogden, and said to him fiercely and ferociously, "You took the young master's things, you dirty thief! The young master is going to throw away all the mistress's and the young master's things. The young master will definitely be very sad. Kreacher must stop him..."
He suddenly woke up at two in the morning, with Kreacher's words echoing in his mind.
"The young master wants to throw away...the young master's things!" He chewed on these words, and a candle flame seemed to flicker in his head.
The young master wants to throw away his things.
That confusing statement is actually completely logical.
Kreacher has two young masters.
Master Sirius, whom he clearly loathed, and Master Regulus, whom he deeply loved.
Regulus Arcturus Black, who was born into a noble family and was deeply trusted by the Dark Lord.
Like Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, they were born into a noble family and were trusted by the Dark Lord.
Perhaps, trust them enough to entrust a Horcrux to them for safekeeping.
Regulus is missing.
Kreacher, who hid things countless times and tried hard to disobey orders to protect Master Regulus's relics.
The known details were like scattered puzzle pieces, slowly forming a shape among the intricate connections. Draco stared at the thick curtains above his head, and his imagination slowly outlined the appearance of the last puzzle piece in the darkness.
What was the relic that Kreacher so longed for? Whatever it was, it must be important.
He thought of the countless gold and silver ornaments and piles of rings at the old Blake house.
Is there any hidden secret in that?
Could there be a special relic in there?