Chapter 78: The twists and turns of thoughts
Draco didn't show up in class until Thursday morning.
Without the influence of the Horcrux, he had a good sleep for the first time in a long time - the feeling of fatigue that had been enveloping his body and mind finally dissipated.
This class was a combined Potions class for Gryffindor and Slytherin. The students who had arrived early were buzzing around the tables in the dungeon, preparing the ingredients for the upcoming class. When Draco appeared in the doorway, the classroom fell into a suspicious silence for three seconds.
He calmly glanced at the Gryffindors with strange expressions - they quickly looked away guiltily and resumed their lively discussion - and walked nonchalantly to an empty operating table.
Hermione ran towards him from the other end of the classroom, as if she wanted to hug him.
Draco held out his hand leisurely, waiting for her to rush to his arms; but finally, she came to a sudden stop in front of him, stopped, hesitated, and held out her hand, pretending to shake his.
He raised an eyebrow, not understanding why she suddenly became reserved, but he still cooperated and shook her hand back.
A subtle electric current surged between the palms of my hands.
Hermione had thought that a handshake would help prevent the strange feeling of the hug; unfortunately, it didn't help at all—her heart rate was fluctuating again.
Suppressing her flying emotions, she tried to smile at the innocent-looking culprit, "Draco, you're here!"
Draco didn't know what was going on in her mind, he just felt that she was acting weird today.
The boy, who had gotten enough sleep, was in a good mood, so he ignored her unusual behavior and just nodded at her with a smile.
Hermione felt relieved, and briskly put her hands behind her back to hide the hand that was inexplicably electrocuted and trembling slightly, and said to him, "Then I'll go back."
She was about to go back to her workbench.
"Why don't you come over and join us? There's no one next to me." He said cheerfully.
"Oh, sorry, Draco, I have to help Neville - he's had a hard time learning these two classes - he's really afraid that Professor Snape will punish him." Hermione glanced at him secretly and said embarrassedly.
"He has to learn on his own. I can assure you that giving him cheat sheets like this will do him no good. Professor Snape won't buy it." Draco narrowed his eyes and looked at Longbottom, who was frantically knocking over the potion ingredients in the distance. He felt something in his heart being knocked over as well.
Hermione didn't relent.
She smiled at him and walked back lightly.
Neville Longbottom—what a troublesome idiot. Draco thought deadpanly, watching her hair sway.
"Thanks, Merlin!" Ron squeezed next to him and patted his shoulder happily. "I knew you were okay!"
"What's going on?" Draco asked haughtily, glancing at his hands. "Why do all the Gryffindors look at me like I've seen a ghost?"
"You didn't come to class all day yesterday, and the rumors are spreading like crazy! People say you were kidnapped by Peter Pettigrew, and some say it was the Dementors who did it... George and Fred even set up a betting in the Gryffindor common room, and the chances of you coming back alive are 50 to 1." Ron looked at his increasingly sour face, and his tone of voice inevitably changed from cheerfulness to hesitant.
"Should I be flattered by this?" Draco gave him a sharp look, sensing something suspicious in his unusual enthusiasm. "Did you buy it?"
"Oh, just a little bit, just for fun, you know," Ron said with a wink.
"Did you win?" He rolled his eyes at Ron.
"Of course," said Ron, his face brightening.
"Should I thank you for your confidence in me?" Draco snorted unhappily.
"Don't be angry. We were all worried about you. We bought this just to stop them from spreading rumors," Ron explained. "It's not just me who's doing something stupid. Hermione got into a fight with Lavender yesterday after hearing the rumors because she thought you were the one Professor Trelawney said was 'leaving us forever.'"
"What?" Draco asked in surprise.
He turned his head to look at her. Through the gaps in the crowd, he saw her busy fiddling with a brass scale, weighing the potion ingredients for the helpless Longbottom, her lips pursed, looking very focused.
It was really hard to imagine how someone as peaceful as her could quarrel with anyone else—except for the quarrel with him in her previous life.
In her previous life, Hermione Granger always came to him to settle accounts because he bullied people around her. She was always cold and mean to him, even though he had never taken the initiative to provoke her.
She was always trying to be gentle and protective of the eccentrics under her wing—Potter, Weasley, more Weasleys, Longbottom, Hagrid, the house-elves, even the Hippogriffs—and she was furious with him and argued with him constantly because of it.
What? Is he now a special person who deserves her anger and protection?
Had he, too, been taken under her wing, one of the freaks in her protective circle? Draco watched her—as she casually pulled her thick hair up with a hairpin—and felt a sudden pang of joy.
She must have been quite angry.
Draco knew, of course, that Hermione Granger was always friendly and never quarreled easily.
But she broke this rule for him.
This made him feel strangely happy, although his mind told him that he shouldn't be happy about her being angry at this moment.
"Is she okay?" Draco stared at her across the crowd. She had an elegant air with her hair casually tied up.
"Oh, they reconciled quickly after Lavender apologized. She's fine, leaving early and coming back late as usual. I don't know what she's busy with." Ron waved his hand disapprovingly.
Draco stared at her. She had just finished weighing the potion ingredients and was thoughtfully playing with a thin locket chain around her neck - a chain that gleamed with a hint of gold.
"Hey, come back to your senses, come back to your senses!" Ron waved his hand in front of him, which successfully drew his attention back and also successfully made a hint of dissatisfaction appear on his face.
"What?" he asked impatiently.
"Let's get down to business! Harry told us quietly! Early yesterday morning, Fawkes grabbed his pajamas collar and took him to the headmaster's office. He then spoke Parseltongue to a strange locket..." Ron looked around and whispered to Draco. He was so excited that the freckles on his face turned red.
"Oh, yes, thanks to Harry," Draco interrupted. "Speaking of which, where's Harry?"
"He's gone to the hospital wing... you know, to see his godfather again," Ron said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Draco understood.
Sirius Black seemed to have been seriously injured in the process of destroying the golden cup.
Harry must be worried about him, so he visits him every now and then.
"Do you know what that locket is?" Ron asked furtively, with an expression that looked like he wanted to eat some melon.
"It's just a dark magic item from the old Black house. They sorted out a lot of similar things during the holidays. I think Harry's godfather was injured because of this." Draco said lightly without telling him the truth.
"Sirius said so too. I thought I could get some special inside information from you!" Ron smacked his lips regretfully.
Really? Draco was slightly surprised.
Unexpectedly, Sirius Black thought the same thing as him and chose to brush it off, giving exactly the same reason.
He is quite tight-lipped and can actually keep the secret without revealing anything to his godson?
As class time approached, more silver-green and golden-red merged into a torrent and poured into the Potions classroom.
Draco was busy setting up the cauldron when Harry finally arrived.
"How's your godfather?" he asked Harry, looking up from fiddling with the beakers, droppers, and silver knives.
"He's not feeling well," Harry said worriedly.
"He'll be fine. You have to have some faith in Madam Pomfrey's methods." Draco comforted him.
They didn't talk for long, because Professor Snape strode into the classroom and asked each of them with a stern look on his face to make a shrinking potion in this class.
While Draco was weighing the wormwood and hemlock essences, Professor Snape was giving Longbottom another hard time. "Orange, Longbottom, tell me, boy, what could possibly penetrate that stupid head of yours..."
Look! What did he say? No matter whether Hermione goes to Longbottom's side or helps him weigh the potion materials, this potion idiot will be targeted by Professor Snape because of his stupid operation! Draco thought absentmindedly while peeling the figs.
"Please, sir... I can help Neville change..." Hermione said crisply.
"I don't think I asked you to show off, Miss Granger," said Professor Snape coldly.
Even though they were several tables apart, Draco could still see how red the little girl's face was. Professor Snape had never given her any trouble when she was brewing the potion next to him!
However, she suddenly lost her mind and wanted to stay close to Longbottom! Not to mention the problem of low efficiency, she would also be implicated and squeezed because of this idiot. Draco shook his head and couldn't help but glance at her again.
At this moment, Professor Snape had walked away, busying himself with trouble for other Gryffindor students.
And the word "surrender" obviously does not exist in Hermione Granger's dictionary.
She was still like a living bodhisattva, kindly helping Neville Longbottom mix the orange potion, with the back of her beautiful brown head facing him.
Wake up, Hermione Granger!
Open your eyes and see who is the best partner? During the summer vacation, she said sincerely that he was "a very precious study partner, it's hard to find another one in the world." But just a week after school started, she found someone else in the blink of an eye, without any nostalgia.
Is there any truth in this little girl's mouth? Draco skillfully sliced the daisy roots evenly, muttering to himself while perking up his ears, paying attention to the movement over there.
When it was his turn to slice the dead caterpillar, he heard the voice of Finnigan, the Gryffindor who loved to explode the crucible, in his ears: "This morning's Daily Prophet... Someone saw Peter Pettigrew... It was a Muggle who called the hotline in Dufftown..."
"The town isn't far from here, is it?" exclaimed a Gryffindor girl.
here we go again.
There are always such seemingly true rumors. A shadow passed over Draco's face.
"If he wants to come, then let him come." Harry, standing beside him, gnashed his teeth as he chopped the poor daisy root, cutting it crookedly. "If possible, I would rather duel with him myself."
Draco was about to say something to persuade him, but he caught a glimpse of Professor Snape's stern face from the corner of his eye.
He quickly turned around, his eyes and nose focused, and he honestly added ingredients to his cauldron of boiling mugwort juice:
A peeled fig forms the base of the pot... chopped daisy roots are sprinkled in... thinly sliced dead caterpillars are tossed in...
On the other side, Professor Snape obviously had no intention of letting Harry go. He stood in front of their table, his eyes lowered, looking at Harry's forehead from his hooked nose, his face showing an ugly smile under his long, greasy black hair.
"What I heard... a young, brave, hot-blooded fool... eager to die... such a touching spectacle," he drawled, his voice mocking.
Harry was startled. He immediately lowered his head and concentrated on cutting his daisy roots without saying anything.
Pick the most beautiful mouse spleen and slide it along the side of the pot... Stir it counterclockwise with a stirring stick...
"Look up, Potter, look up at me!" Professor Snape said sternly, "Hasn't anyone taught you basic manners? When talking to someone, looking them in the eye is a minimum of respect."
Harry looked up reluctantly and found Professor Snape staring intently into his eyes.
Snape glared at Harry for a moment, then threatened those emerald green eyes: "You'd better behave yourself. Otherwise, the Hogwarts Express will take you home before you can challenge anyone else."
Add a little bit of leech juice...drop by drop, observe the color of the potion change...until it turns a bright, dazzling acid green...
Draco turned the potion to a simmer. As he gathered the unused potion ingredients, he glanced at Harry. Harry was staring at Professor Snape with a look of dissatisfaction, nearly wanting to jump up.
But finally, he pulled himself together, lowered his eyes, and said, "Yes, sir."
"Very well, Potter," Professor Snape hissed like a venomous snake. "I'll keep an eye on you. Don't let me catch you. Oh, Draco, the potion is good."
The Potions Master glanced at Draco, seemed quite satisfied, turned around proudly, and prepared to check Longbottom's operating table again.
He took big steps, and his black robe floated beside Draco, which made Draco smell a faint scent of potion.
It was a familiar smell. He had smelled it in Slughorn's cauldron before—wolfsbane potion. Professor Snape, it seemed, was offering Lupin a helping hand, even though he had shown unprecedented dislike for him at the start-of-term dinner.
Apart from Professor Snape, the highly skilled potion master, there was probably no one else in the entire Hogwarts who could brew the wolfsbane potion - if you didn't count him and Hermione, the two half-baked ones - Draco thought thoughtfully.
On the other side, a few tables away, Hermione, as expected, was deducted five points by Professor Snape for helping Longbottom successfully brew a shrinking potion - turning his toad Riff into a tadpole. Her face turned red with anger.
"I told her a long time ago that helping Longbottom would do no good." Draco said to Harry with a pout.
"But Professor Snape is so unfair to Hermione! He always picks on us... It's so inexplicable!" Harry shook his head and whispered to him, "But when I think about how he once saved me and knew my mother when she was a child..."
Saint Potter—always willing to think the best of others. Draco twitched his lips.
"I understand. He always wants to look into your eyes." He deftly hid a few small bottles of shrinking potion he had brewed and whispered to Harry.
"Yeah, exactly like my mother's eyes," said Harry mysteriously.
So, Severus Snape, holding Longbottom's wriggling tadpole in his hand, felt two creepy sympathetic gazes on his back.
He looked around blankly at the students brewing potions - everything seemed normal to them.
He hurriedly pulled a vial from the pocket of his robe and poured a few drops of liquid on Leifu, who instantly turned into a toad again.
He didn't want to think about Longbottom anymore. He threw the toad on the table and turned his head again, trying to find the source of the gaze, but he couldn't find it.
It wasn't just Snape who felt "weird", Draco also did.
Draco considered himself not a person who liked to ask questions, but he couldn't help but notice some strange phenomena: Hermione's whereabouts were becoming more and more erratic.
At the end of Potions class, he had wanted to slow down and wait for Hermione, who was dragging her feet, to catch up so he could discuss with her the method she had used to change the toxicity of the potion for Longbottom.
But inexplicably, he suddenly found Hermione coming breathlessly from the front and saying something to Harry and Ron.
Through the half-open zipper of her backpack pocket, Draco could see at least a dozen large books.
Very interesting.
Those books were definitely not meant to be read for "entertainment". With such a busy schedule, she definitely didn't have the extra time to read so many other books.
Hermione noticed his gaze. She didn't speak to him, just nodded at him quickly and strode towards the hall.
"Do you think she's hiding something from us?" Draco heard Ron say to Harry as they passed by with Crabbe and Goyle.
Of course she's hiding something! Draco sat at the Slytherin table, watching the girl with a nonchalant expression - she was sucking on a strawberry and reading a book. He would bet his hair that this must be related to her "little secret" about her class schedule.
After dinner, the students hurried off to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Professor Lupin was still dressed in the same rags Draco had seen him in on the train, carrying a tattered briefcase. This caused some of the Slytherin students to utter disdainful noises.
Goyle and Crabbe remained silent. Draco looked at them in surprise.
"The sun is rising from the west?" he asked them. "I didn't know you were still willing to attend the class."
"He can keep Dementors away, can't he?" Crabbe's round face showed a hint of respect. "He seems quite capable."
"That's right," Goyle said. "Besides, he doesn't look like the type to keep us buried in textbooks."
Goyle's sixth sense was very accurate. As soon as he finished speaking, Lupin asked everyone to put away their textbooks.
"Today's a practical class, you only need your own wands," said Lupin.
Practical classes were rare, and the last one ended with Hermione using a freezing spell on a Cornish pixie.
What surprises, or shocks, would the new teacher bring? The students, some interested, some skeptical, followed him with their wands drawn—seeing him easily dispatch Peeves along the way—and finally entered a staffroom cluttered with old, mismatched chairs.
This class was about Boggarts. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher walked over to a shaking old wardrobe, a mysterious smile on his face, and began to ask questions.
Hermione Granger certainly shines in this class - she clearly explains what a Boggart is, earning praise from Lupin.
Draco watched her jumping up and down on tiptoe, but another question was on his mind: When did she walk up to Harry?
What happened next was nothing new. Neville Longbottom transformed Professor Snape, who had just come out of the closet, into a cross-dresser wearing his grandmother's lace dress, a tall vulture hat, and a large red handbag, which made the Gryffindors burst into laughter.
The Slytherins didn't laugh. Nor did Draco.
He looked at Professor Lupin coldly, not understanding what benefit he would gain by targeting Professor Snape.
Didn't he still have to rely on Professor Snape to brew his wolfsbane potion? Didn't he have any gratitude at all?
Next, the students lined up enthusiastically, waiting for the moment to deal with Boggart.
Draco glanced at the Boggart—it had become a bandaged mummy—and lazily moved to the end of the line behind Theodore Nott.
This way, he ensured that he wouldn't have to face the Boggart - he didn't think it was a good idea to have his Boggart in public; it was too private a matter.
What was Draco's own Boggart?
In his previous life, his Boggart was his father - Lucius, who stormed out - and he discovered that during the exam at the end of his third year.
At that time, his biggest fear was making his father angry or disappointed.
But in this life, when he jumped out of the siege between father and son, no longer clinging to his own spiritual world, but had more important things to fight for, his father was no longer the object of his fear.
In comparison, he may be more afraid of his parents dying than of their anger.
Could it be the Dark Lord?
Yes, Draco had been deeply afraid of the Dark Lord. He had caused suffering to his parents and the entire Malfoy family. He had tortured and murdered wizards at will at Malfoy Manor, right in front of Draco.
However, it wasn't fear entirely, it was more of a feeling that made Draco feel nauseous.
Speaking of what he fears most, it is probably——
Draco shook his head and gave up thinking.
It wouldn't be his turn. According to his memories from his previous life, when the line came to Harry, Lupin would go and stop the Boggart, making it disappear in everyone's laughter.
By this time, the Boggart had become a full silver moon in the sky, which was Lupin's greatest fear - the werewolf's greatest fear.
After destroying the Boggart, Professor Lupin happily assigned homework to his students, completely unaware that some students had already discovered his secret.
"He seems like a good teacher." Draco heard Hermione murmur beside him, "I also hope to have the chance to deal with that Boggart -"
Hermione? When did she come over? Draco was startled by her.
This little girl is becoming increasingly invisible.
"And then your Boggart will turn into Professor McGonagall and declare you failed in all your exams..." He couldn't help teasing her, seeing how interested she looked.
"No!" Hermione blushed and glared at him, puffing her face up like a guinea pig.
"What about you? What is Draco Malfoy most afraid of?" After a pause, she looked at him with her unconvinced brown eyes and asked.
"Perhaps it's you," Draco said, a trace of gloom flashed across his pale face, and he pretended to be lazy, "Then I'd rather never meet my Boggart in my life."
Hermione was really getting mad now. She said sternly, "Draco, I don't like your weird sense of humor! It's not funny!"
After saying that, she opened the classroom door without looking back and walked away as the bell for the end of get out of class rang suddenly.
"Why is she angry with me?" Draco looked at her angrily back and said to Crabbe and Goyle innocently, "I'm telling the truth."
Crabbe and Goyle just laughed at him foolishly and couldn't offer any constructive suggestions.
In the second practical class, the students followed Professor Lupin to the dark dungeon of the castle to learn how to deal with the Red Riding Hood - an ugly goblin-like creature that liked to live in places that had been stained with human blood.
"Students, be careful, they will appear at any time!" Lupin said happily at the dungeon door, looking at the group of students who were gradually dispersing with vigilant faces.
The red hats are out.
"Hermione, don't be angry, I take back what I said, okay?" Draco waved his wand and knocked a little dwarf wielding a big stick behind the girl against the wall, and said to her while he had the time.
"Okay," the girl looked back at the fallen stick and said in shock, "because you saved my life."
Draco thought everything would return to normal and they would still be the most tacit study partners.
But she was hesitant and not very enthusiastic about "partnering with him".
Whenever she had a choice, she would still choose someone else—often the dumbest person in the room—instead of sitting next to him as she had done before.
This was not right—how long had it been since she ignored him like this?
Draco felt a little lost and a little unconvinced. What had he done wrong?
In the third practical class of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin instructed the students to take turns wading through the shallow pond beside the Black Lake to practice the techniques and methods of dealing with Cabba.
When it was Hermione's group's turn, she jumped into the water first. Draco pulled Longbottom away, who was hesitantly preparing to enter the water, and glared at him, "Go to the next group, Longbottom."
Neville opened his round, frightened eyes, startled by the sudden death stare. He stepped back a few steps on the shore and stammered, "Okay... okay..."
"Why did you come down?" Hermione took several steps in the water before she realized that her partner behind her had changed.
"Longbottom is scared and doesn't dare to go in the water," he said calmly, wading towards her. "Why, are you afraid that I'll hold you back?"
"Of course not." She blinked and stood in the middle of the pond, feeling at a loss.
"By the way, how did you restore that pot of poisonous shrinking potion to its original state?" Draco's eyes flashed. He sensed her discomfort and tried to change the subject.
As he spoke, he kicked away the monkey—a reptile called a kaba—that had leaped up and was trying to strangle her with its webbed hands, and pulled her towards him.
"Oh, Draco, thank you, but that's not the right way!" Hermione gasped as she threw a cucumber with her name engraved on it at the grinning Cabba - instantly attracting its attention. "He just added more of the acid, that's all. I added the other ingredients in equal proportions, neutralized the acid with an alkaline solution, and then diluted it accordingly..."
"That requires very precise proportional calculations! You figured it out without even using a piece of parchment?" He roughly pressed down on Kaba's head, which was looking down at the cucumber, and poured out the water inside - the little monster immediately softened its scaly body and slid into the pond.
"Yeah," she said easily, as if it was no big deal.
Using her amazing talent for arithmetic to help the poor is a complete waste! He thought with a frown.
"It must have taken quite a while, didn't it?" He strode onto the bank of the pond, and pulled the dripping wet girl up, asking in confusion, "How did you still have time to brew your own potion? And you got an 'O'?"
She shrugged and turned around to listen to Professor Lupin loudly announcing on the other side of the shore that their group of students had "passed the test" without answering Draco.
After a few classes, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which focused on "practical classes", was widely praised, and Professor Lupin's patched clothes were no longer the focus of students' attention.
The class's only victim, Professor Severus Snape, was unusually irritable.
The news of his disguise spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts, even to the most obscure portraits and rusted suits of armor in the castle's darkest corners.
As a result, the victim bullied Longbottom, who was half the instigator, even more severely in the Potions class, and was particularly picky about the Gryffindor students next to him.
The first to be affected was Hermione.
"You're wasting your time. Not only are you failing to help him, but you're making the situation worse, giving Professor Snape more reasons to deduct points from you." In the Care of Magical Creatures class, Draco caught her dodging again and made her his partner - he forced Longbottom behind Hagrid with his cold gaze - and tried his best to persuade her to give up the idea of "being overly helpful".
"Oh, Draco, we should help students who have difficulties in learning, right?" Hermione held the flowerpot so that Draco could pull the small hawthorn tree out of the pot. "You can't look down on other students just because you are so talented -"
It was a sunny day, and they were in a clearing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid asked them to work in pairs, choose a suitable hole in the clearing, plant the small tree that the Bowtruckle was living in, and make it a home for the Bowtruckle at Hogwarts.
"But this is not a question of help, nor is it a question of talent. He is careless and unwilling to work hard. What was he thinking of adding a box of mouse spleens? And who would add so much leech juice? This is not a difficult advanced potion to prepare. It is clearly written in the textbook...but he didn't even follow the basic steps." Draco said mercilessly.
"I think it was Professor Snape's harsh criticism that increased Neville's fear. He made low-level mistakes so frequently because he was too scared. He panicked when he saw Professor Snape walking over that day. Give him more patience, time and space, and he can do well." Hermione paused and said puzzledly, "Draco, sometimes I really don't understand you. Why do you always say one thing and mean another? I mean, you always tell me not to waste my time helping others, but you always help me when I'm in trouble. You've always been very patient with me--"
"I don't help just anyone," Draco muttered, watching the Bowtruckle hiding in the trees, looking at them curiously.
"What?" she asked in confusion, and a gust of wind blew away his words.
"Hold it, I mean," Draco said, motioning for her to hold onto the tree he had put in the hole. "Watch out for that Bowtruckle."
Hermione held onto the tree. The Bowtruckle tentatively moved between the branches, crawling along the back of her hand and up her arm.
"Draco!" she exclaimed in surprise. "It's crawling on me!"
"Oh! Close your eyes!" Draco was startled and quickly stretched out his hand to block its path. "Is it planning to attack you?"
"No. I don't think so." She kept her eyes open and smiled as she stared into its small brown eyes, which were gleaming with shyness and anxiety. "I think it might feel that the tree was shaking all the time and it felt a little insecure."
Draco frowned at the long, sharp fingers of the Bowtruckle, and worried about her smooth, white arm. He didn't want a random scar on her arm to add something new to his nightmares.
Hermione was teasing it with her wand in her free hand, trying to use it as a temporary substitute for the hawthorn tree that was being transplanted, but the little creature sniffed it and lost interest, circling restlessly on her arm.
"Oh, use mine." Draco tossed his wand to her. "It likes hawthorn wood, doesn't it?"
She grabbed his wand and held it close to her arm, watching the little thing crawl along the tip of the wand, shaking its head, and lying on the hawthorn wand, hugging the wand firmly and not moving.
"Yes. He loves it. Thank you," she said with a smile.
The weather in early September was still a bit hot. The boy took off his robe and threw it on a low branch of a nearby oak tree. Then he began to slowly unbutton the cuffs of his white shirt, revealing a thin but powerful forearm.
"You're welcome. I'm glad to be liked." He said slowly, staring at her intently, shook his head neatly, and then loosened his tie embroidered with the dark green Slytherin snake pattern and unbuttoned a button on his collar.
This ordinary action made her face burn.
She always felt that his eyes were meaningful.
She suddenly recalled the gentle kiss on the forehead under the morning sun.
Come on, Hermione Granger, that was just a normal interaction between friends! She said to herself desperately. Mom and Dad would kiss her like this too, he was just too happy that day!
Yes, my friend, it's no big deal. She controlled her unstable heartbeat and prepared herself mentally.
Look how calm he was. After upsetting her mood, he just pouted and went to get a shovel from Hagrid with an impatient look on his face. Then, he strolled towards her, his platinum hair shining in the crowd.
She stared at him blankly, seeing him standing in front of her, smiling at her lazily, then lowering his head and waving the shovel, working on the fertilizer and soil.
Ordinary days, ordinary partners, ordinary classes.
But for her, everything was going in an unusual direction.
Weird emotions often spread in her heart.
Sometimes it was overwhelming joy, other times it was painful palpitations. These intermittent symptoms only occurred when she was with Draco Malfoy, and they seemed to be coming more and more frequently lately, leaving her feeling dizzy, short of breath, and overwhelmed.
Busy study could fill her heart and alleviate the distressing symptoms. But once she had some free time, even for a second, she would be swept away by the strange emotions again, like a small boat unable to withstand the huge waves, floating up and down, unable to extricate herself.
She tried to avoid him - but how easy was that?
She had once hidden in a far corner of the classroom, assigned herself the most demanding study partner in the room, but she couldn't control her legs. She always wanted to circle around him, like a small animal trying to mark its territory.
The most despairing thing is that he seems to be everywhere.
No matter when and where, she can always capture that platinum blonde color at the first moment.
He is - too dazzling.
Hermione's face flushed slightly, and her eyes were once again drawn to the boy in front of her.
She noticed that the exercise had tinted his pale cheeks with a healthy, light red.
She noticed that he occasionally lifted his rolled-up shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Sometimes his eyes would glance at her through a gap in his drooping hair—and whenever they did, she would look away and pretend to study the little Bowtruckle that was clinging to his wand.
She could feel his eyes sliding over her, like the gentle caress of the wind. Then he continued to work silently, head down, filling the pit with soil.
He exuded the air of a "young master who doesn't work," and his movements in wielding the shovel were not very skillful. However, he still insisted on doing the work himself, unwilling to let his female partner do the work.
She had protested, thinking he was underestimating her strength; but he had said seriously that holding onto the tree was more important.
"You don't want this tree to grow crooked, do you? You have to guide it in the right direction." He gave a wicked smile as he assigned the task. "I will definitely put it crooked if you choose to use a shovel."
This unreasonable boy never expresses his consideration directly and always beats around the bush.
"What's wrong?" Perhaps because she was silent for too long, he looked up and asked her in confusion, completely unaware of the girl's complicated thoughts.
"Nothing. Go on." Her face flushed slightly, and she quickly curled the corners of her mouth towards him, trying her best to smile brightly into those beautiful gray eyes.