Chapter 88: The Fist of Fateful Reincarnation + Gore's Diary (Part 1)
"If you fall in love with someone for the first time, what is your first reaction?"
On the night of Hogsmeade's Open Day, a group of senior girls were chattering about love in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Their voices drifted to the ears of a girl who was sitting on the sofa, hidden under a thick book.
"Confession?" Angelina Johnson asked excitedly.
"No," Katie Bell said enigmatically, "it's escape."
"Why?" Angelina asked, puzzled. "I don't understand the idea of 'running away'. If you like someone, just go after them!"
"Oh, Angelina, don't bring your Chaser ways into your first love," Katie said with the tone of someone who has experienced it. "First love is sweet, but also sour. It's full of anxiety and fear. It's like a green apple. You long for it, but you're also worried that it won't taste as good as you thought it would when you bite into it."
Green apple.
He likes eating green apples best.
He always stared at her with that intense gaze as he bit into the green apple. Hermione eavesdropped on the girls' conversation, hiding herself behind the upturned "Spellbook", and her forehead began to redden above the book.
"Hermione!" The red-haired girl passing by had her eyes lit up and ran towards her. "Did you get it? The potion?"
"Sorry, Ginny." Hermione's eyes flickered bewilderedly behind the book. "I didn't get it this time. Um, I'll bring it back for you next time, okay?"
"Okay." Ginny said disappointedly. Inadvertently, she glanced at Hermione and felt that she was a little strange. "You are not right! What are you thinking about? Why are you distracted?"
"I'm reading," said Hermione.
"Nonsense, you even held the book upside down!" Ginny simply pushed the book down, revealing Hermione's red face. Ginny looked at her and asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"
"It's okay," she muttered.
"Is that potion sold out?" Ginny asked.
"No, there's more," she whispered.
"Do you smell it? Does it smell good?" Ginny looked at her and felt that Hermione's expression was very familiar.
"Smells good," Hermione said nervously, picking up the book again to cover her face.
Ginny looked at the upside-down book, and finally remembered that whenever she thought of Harry, she would always see herself in the mirror with such a complicated, shy and panicked expression.
Oh! Hermione! Could it be that she smells something special—the smell of a boy she likes? Ginny's eyes sparkled.
"Can you smell him?" she asked Hermione, just to give it a try.
"Yeah..." The girl was absentmindedly staring at a chart in the book, trying to shift her attention to academics instead of thinking about the boy who loved to bite green apples.
However, she wondered why the chart looked like it was upside down?
"Who?" Ginny asked softly.
"Dr.—" Hermione suddenly stopped. Her mind sounded the alarm.
Ginny—the sly little girl—she was trying to trick her!
"I don't smell anything!" Hermione stood up and dropped the book to the ground with a clatter.
"Hey, don't run away, finish what you're saying!" Ginny perked up all of a sudden. She looked up and asked expectantly, "Dr. - what?"
"I'm leaving! I'm going back to the dormitory to take a shower!" Hermione hurriedly bent down to pick up the book, then jumped up and ran away like a rabbit.
In a state of guilty conscience, she felt that the lounge was extremely dangerous. It seemed that anyone could easily see through her thoughts, see through her panic, and see through her love for him.
So she ran straight back upstairs, opened the door of the girls' dormitory, and blew herself back to her bed like a gust of wind.
On the bed next door, Lavender and Parvati, who were using tarot cards to calculate their love fortunes, looked back at her in surprise. The wind created by the girl's running blew a tarot card on the bed to the ground.
"Be careful, Hermione!" said Lavender unhappily.
"Sorry!" Hermione just jumped behind the curtains of the bed and hid herself tightly like a Ponlock.
She was done for! She felt utterly ashamed just thinking about him! She wasn't herself anymore!
Calm down, Hermione, calm down! She breathed deeply into her pillow, trying to cheer herself up.
Lavender glanced at her silent curtains, puzzled. She shook her head and said, "Parvati, please pick it up."
"Okay," Parvati said enthusiastically, reaching out and picking it up. "Wow, it's the Grail Knight!"
"What does that mean?" Lavender asked with interest.
Hermione lay dazed on the four-poster bed, listening to Parvati flipping through the pages of a book as she quietly read the explanation. "The upright Knight of Cups... represents a gentle and considerate partner, signifying wholehearted devotion and uncomplaining love, and also signifies the beginning of a closer relationship. The reversed Knight of Cups suggests that both parties are currently making a choice, perhaps to take the relationship to the next level or to stay where they are... The latter is more obvious... Each party is waiting for the other to take the initiative or continue to act, which has a strong sense of passivity."
Ugh! These unreliable divination methods! It's all nonsense, Hermione thought with disdain.
But what were they now? Her thoughts were all over the place, and she felt a little lost.
After calming down, she remembered more details.
She remembered many times when he had been hesitant to speak to her. Many times when he had suddenly let go of her hand. That time in the auditorium, when she woke up, there was no one around her. He had left so decisively, without a word of farewell, without a trace of hesitation.
They never discussed whether their fingers intertwined in class was too intimate, just as they never discussed whether sleeping in each other's arms that night in the hospital bed was too absurd. They both seemed to subconsciously avoid these topics.
He had always emphasized that he was a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. He kept reminding her of this, almost obsessively, as if he wanted to draw a clear line between himself and the word "Gryffindor." So, was she, a Gryffindor, placed on the other side of the line he had drawn?
Yes, he always seemed to keep a certain subtle distance from her.
Sometimes, when he got close enough to her, he would reveal a look of deep resentment and then, like a frightened snail, quickly retract his tentacles, as if one of them was poisonous.
Perhaps, they should stay at this distance - if that is what he wants.
Neither advance nor retreat, just right.
If I don't go any further, I won't risk losing it, Hermione thought bitterly.
"So, was this card upright or reversed?" Lavender asked in a low voice with great interest.
"That's the problem." Parvati gave her a strange look and whispered to her, "It's just stuck in the gap between the bed and the nightstand. It's tilted. It's between upright and reversed."
"Oh, isn't that just a useless card?" Lavender pouted, feeling rather disappointed. "I thought it was some kind of Merlin's guidance—let's test it again."
So they reshuffled the cards and fiddled with the troubled deck of Tarot cards again, trying to get a glimpse of the strange and changeable fate.
The two-week Easter holiday is here.
In Draco's words, "This holiday might as well not have happened," because all the students were busy with their homework, and everyone looked listless and sleep-deprived.
Especially Hermione. He could sense the sense of collapse emanating from her from across the corridor.
Merlin, she always looked like she was about to cry - and it made him feel tight.
"Are you okay?" One day, Draco couldn't help but stop her in the corridor, his eyes quietly passing over a book in her hand - "Numerology and Patterns".
"Not bad." Hermione lowered her eyelashes to hide the uncontrollable love for him in her eyes.
"I haven't done anything wrong, have I? I always feel like you're avoiding me." Draco looked at her suspiciously.
Why didn't she look up at him? He was a little upset.
"Of course not." She finally glanced up at him hurriedly, her face flushed with panic. "I have too much homework. I'm too busy... You know, I've taken so many classes."
Hermione was completely lying. She had a lot of homework, but not so much that she couldn't even speak.
She was indeed avoiding him. Not only because Ginny had been staring at her lately, trying to find any boy with a name starting with Dr who was communicating with her; she herself didn't know how to face Draco, and she was extremely panicked.
At the dining table in the auditorium, they sat facing each other from a distance. She kept stealing glances at him from the corner of her eyes, only to have him notice before quickly looking away. She felt her behavior was completely abnormal, irrational, and illogical. It brought her to the brink of collapse.
She found that she could no longer get along with him as naturally as before.
She was always afraid she would say something stupid. How would he react?
She was even more afraid that their relationship would break down. How would she react if he just treated her as an ordinary friend?
She wanted to see him every moment, but she didn't dare to see him.
It was obvious that keeping her distance from him was no use. She had suppressed the throbbing in her heart and deliberately ignored him.
After a while, when she accidentally saw his angular and indifferent face or platinum hair across the aisle again, even if he just glanced at her, she would be extremely excited.
And that damn "heartbeat syndrome" had already begun to take its toll. If she looked directly into his quiet, light gray eyes, her mind would definitely go blank at first.
Not to mention talking to him! She couldn't say much to him. If she said a few more words, she would be out of breath. She could feel her face burning continuously, getting redder and redder. If it burned any more, he would see through her!
"Sorry, Draco, I have to go first!" Hermione tried hard to find the little rationality in her brain. Before he could make her infatuated, she almost jumped up and hurriedly fled from this innocent boy who made her panic.
She seemed to be under a lot of pressure. Draco stood there at a loss, feeling uneasy about her attitude.
Harry said that she had finally decided to drop out of Divination classes - but that didn't seem to relieve her stress much.
Draco often saw her leaving early and returning late.
In the morning, he had just sat down at the Slytherin table when he saw her suddenly stand up and run away from the Gryffindor table.
She was lurking around the library, working on her homework, seemingly uninterested in anything else. She didn't even bother going to their study corner, even though he'd invited her several times. She'd always lower her eyes, not even glancing at him, and give him a perfunctory "Next time."
Besides rushing her homework, could Hermione Granger have any other hobbies or interests? Even a chance to catch her breath! Draco thought dejectedly.
The situation didn't improve until the first Saturday after Easter - the day Slytherin played Hufflepuff.
Riding on his broom, Draco scanned the crowded stands and easily spotted her.
Who could ignore her long, lustrous brown hair and bright brown eyes?
At this moment, he was finally sure that her eyes were following him closely - not the flickering and wandering eyes that she had been avoiding recently.
Watching Quidditch matches is probably her only entertainment activity in the near future? Draco smiled slightly on his Nimbus 2001 and continued to search for his Golden Snitch.
Undoubtedly, this is a tough battle.
Hufflepuff's captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory, was an experienced opponent. Every time he saw the fleeting golden light of the Snitch, he would chase it side by side with Draco for a long time, until the cunning little thing disappeared again amid the audience's regretful sighs.
Hufflepuff Chaser Zacharias Smith constantly tripped Draco up, trying to sneakily "blagging" Draco's broomstick as he circled in the air, searching for the Snitch, in revenge for the "cobbing" he'd given him at the Great Hall entrance.
(Pulling or grabbing the tail of an opponent's broom to slow down or impede their progress. A foul applicable to all players.)
(Elbow strike, the abuse of elbows to hit opponents. Applicable to all athletes.)
"Oh, no! Madam Hooch was so focused on the Hufflepuff goal that she didn't see what Zacharias was doing. She was distracted by the other Hufflepuffs," Harry said, holding up his binoculars. "I'm pretty sure that was a foul. He caught Draco's broom by the tail and was getting in his way."
"How could he do this?" Hermione looked at the platinum-haired boy worriedly and was extremely angry. She threw down the telescope, put her hands to her mouth, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Zacharias Smith! You despicable villain!"
Draco could hear her ranting from the nearby stands. She was watching him, and angry on his behalf.
He loved her being angry about him.
Hermione Granger's anger was Draco Malfoy's best stimulant on the court.
"Is that all you can do?" Draco turned his head and smiled contemptuously at Zacharias behind him. He held his broom handle with one hand and continued to fly rapidly in a certain direction in front of him, while with the other hand he grabbed the Quaffle in Zacharias's hand and tried to snatch it away.
Zacharias panicked. He hadn't expected the other man to snatch the Quaffle from his hand.
"Let go, Malfoy!" He pulled at the tail of Draco's broom while trying to pull back his own Quaffle. The two of them were in a stalemate on the high-speed broom.
Until Draco bent his body, and in the split second before rushing into the iron ring in front, he let go of the hand that was snatching the Quaffle.
"Miles, get out of the way!" he yelled at his goalkeeper, and at the same time, he lowered his broom handle, turned 90 degrees, and rushed straight to the ground.
Zacharias was so busy loosening Draco's broom tail to prevent himself from being dragged to the ground that he didn't notice the iron ring in front.
He didn't bother to bother the nimble Seeker, so he barely managed to catch his Quaffle and charged straight into the hoop, where Madam Hooch, who had flown over, looked up and saw him, earning him a clear penalty.
"Good job!" Miles laughed, slapping his broomstick against the doorpost. "Draco, you're a fucking genius!"
Zacharias's face turned blue.
"Zacharys, what are you doing?" Diggory yelled from high above. "A simple mistake like haversacking? What were you thinking?"
(Holding the Quaffle through the hoop while still in hand - the Quaffle must be thrown - a foul for Chasers only.)
The stands were filled with screams and exclamations.
"He's very strong." Harry said excitedly beside Hermione, watching Draco fly back to the sky. "That move is very difficult, suddenly turning 90 degrees and diving."
"That's right. He seems to be using the Wronski Feint tactic. Moreover, in a split second, he turned the disadvantage into an advantage and taught Zacharias a lesson..." Ron said admiringly on Harry's side.
Ginny Weasley sat in the stands next to Hermione, listening absentmindedly to her brother's praise of the Slytherin Seeker. Her eyes were fixed on Hermione's profile, and every cell in her brain was focused on one thing.
What exactly is it, Dr. - what?
In recent days, she had been counting on her fingers and asking Hermione all the possible names of Gryffindor boys like naming a dish - from first to seventh year, without missing a single one.
"Draven?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Drew?"
Shake your head again.
"Dreyfuss?"
Continue shaking your head.
"Drog?"
Still shaking his head.
"Dryden?"
Still shaking his head.
Each time, Hermione's response was the same: shaking her head without hesitation, as if she was sure Ginny would never guess. She was as cautious and vigilant as a cat hiding its tail.
"It can't be Dragot, can it?" Ginny asked doubtfully on the way to the Quidditch pitch today.
"What's that?" Hermione asked warily, with a hint of nervousness in her tone.
"Oh, the draught pot is a currency used in the American wizarding world," Ginny said lazily. "Perhaps you'd like the taste of money."
"Of course not!" Hermione relaxed and denied it flatly.
"Merlin, who the hell are you? Which boy in our house do you like?" Ginny sighed, "I give up. Just tell me directly, okay?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Hermione, in that innocent tone the boy always used when he was being perfunctory.
"This isn't fair!" Ginny whispered to her as they walked up to the stands. "I've told you everything that's on my mind. I demand an equal and fair friendship. You have to tell me what's on your mind, too."
"Don't be silly, Ginny, your worries are too obvious, almost everyone knows it." Hermione said warily, "It's not a secret in the first place..."
Ginny was furious. She sulked in the stands for a long time because Hermione, who had always been friendly to her, was holding back. She also doubted herself because she couldn't figure it out - had her insight become weaker?
At this moment, the bewildered Ginny came out of the frustrating memories of the past few days and continued to stare at Hermione eagerly - she was staring at the field intently, her face full of excitement and excitement, having swept away her previous distracted look.
Look, she's not right again. Ginny thought, there must be someone around here that she's concerned about.
"Malfoy, you insidious--" Amid Zacharias's angry abuse, Draco smiled maliciously at him and made a gesture that made him even more angry.
Zacharias wanted to rant more, but he didn't have the chance to argue with Draco. His captain, Cedric Diggory, was flying over and, belatedly, yelled at Smith, "What were you doing, Zacharias? Were you trying to 'pull' him? That's a foul!"
"No! Golden Snitch!" Zacharias glared at Cedric's back and roared with a pale face.
Cedric turned around suddenly and found a platinum shadow passing by the tail of his broom at a high speed, bringing up a gust of wind that made him despair.
The game is over.
Draco got the Golden Snitch.
Of course I had to get it! She'd come to see him, hadn't she? How could I waste Hermione Granger's precious time? Draco thought triumphantly, high-fiving Marcus as he flew towards him.
Marcus's face was covered with tears. He was as excited as a child, waving his arms in the air. "We are more than 300 points ahead of Gryffindor! Draco, more than 300 points! Draco, my best Seeker!"
Draco understood what he meant. After this battle, unless there was some lucky break, this year's Quidditch Cup would probably belong to Slytherin.
"Well done, Draco." Hermione put down the telescope and said in a barely audible tone of joy amid the cheers rising from the distant stands and the uneasy sighs filling the stands beside her.
The sound was so quiet that only the people next to her could hear it.
For example, Harry on her left, and Ginny on her right who was looking at her closely.
Ginny Weasley's insight, like a sleeping lion, suddenly awakened at this moment - her mouth opened wide.
Of course, of course! That makes sense! Any Gryffindor boy with the name Dr at the beginning of his name wouldn't be the boy Hermione would like!
Perhaps, what Hermione smelled was not a Gryffindor from the beginning!
But a damn Slytherin she had never considered!
Hermione Granger's study partner!
"Dr-Draco?" she asked Hermione quickly, her eyes wide—wider than they had been when she'd seen Harry show up at her house the other morning.
She tugged at Hermione's sleeve and stammered, "D-Draco Malfoy? You, you smelled him?"
Next, Ginny saw with horror that the girl who had always shaken her head at her with certainty, the calmest and most collected female academic in Gryffindor, had her eyes wider than hers and her face quickly turned red.
Her face was red, like a cat whose tail was caught, her eyes blinked guiltily, but she did not shake her head.
No shaking of the head.
Merlin's great-uncle! In full view of the crowd, Ginny performed a standard "stool drop" in the seats in the stands.
After the game, Draco terrifiedly broke free from the insane Marcus Flint who was about to kiss him, and dragged his broom to quickly catch up with Hermione who was rushing to the castle.
He flashed in front of her, blocking her way, looking like he was asking for praise, "How is it? Is it great?"
"Very, very good. They all say you have great skills." She looked up at him, a bright smile on her face, and stars twinkled in her eyes.
That's more like it. Draco smiled at her smugly and was about to say something more to her -
Suddenly, her expression faltered, her cheeks flushed, as if she'd just remembered she had an assignment due soon. Like the cat named Crookshanks, she panicked and took off, "I have something to do, so I'll leave now!"
She studied a little too hard.
Had that time-turner driven her crazy? Draco followed her retreating figure with a worried look, his steps hesitating a little. She really should drop a couple more electives, shouldn't she?
"Malfoy!" At this moment, a sudden voice came from behind, interrupting Draco's thoughts.
He turned around with a displeased look and saw that it was Cedric Diggory, the captain of Hufflepuff House. His face turned cold and he asked impatiently, "What are you doing?"
"Congratulations on getting the Golden Snitch. I have to explain that I was not aware of Zacharias's behavior before. I never thought of, nor told him, to use this method-" Cedric said hurriedly, but was interrupted by Draco waving his hand.
"No need to explain." Draco said indifferently, glancing at the handsome boy from the Badger House at Hogwarts, who was famous for his handsome face. He ignored the anxiety and apology on his face, and felt a little annoyed for no reason. His voice was as cold as ice, "Put away your hypocrisy and fake kindness - I don't care."
Without even looking at Digory's expression, he hurried away without even noticing anyone.
He didn't know how to face Cedric Diggory. In his previous life, Draco had always been indifferent to him and had never interacted with him.
Cedric Diggory was always polite, gentle, refined, and friendly to everyone. On the other hand, Draco Malfoy was always arrogant, bullying his classmates, and looking down on everyone.
They are not the same kind of people at all.
Draco could never forget the scene: the 17-year-old boy's body appeared in the Triwizard Tournament venue, Professor Snape's black robe covering him - that was the only time Draco could remember Professor Snape taking off his black robe.
Only then did he roughly understand what death meant.
It's confusion, panic, and emptiness. It's a warm body turning into a cold shell, the heartbreaking sobs of friends, and the heartbroken grief of loved ones.
It was the common cry of all the teachers and students in the school that echoed in the venue.
In his previous life, Draco had laughed at the panic of others, but in his heart he was also deeply shocked.
In this life, whenever he saw Cedric Diggory, he would always remember his gray eyes, which had become empty, and he didn't know how to treat him, just as he didn't know how to treat the others who had died in front of him.
Whenever he saw them, he always felt as if his eyes, heart, and soul were pierced by something.
Don't even think about it, Draco Malfoy, you can't save everyone.
Stay away from them, give them a wide berth!
Stop overthinking, as if you don't have enough to think about right now! He persuaded himself, walking alone in the vast crowd, occasionally forcing a smile to a few students who greeted him.
And then time flies.
Classes seemed to be getting more and more intense, and Hermione seemed to be getting busier and busier.
Although Draco didn't need to practice Quidditch now, he had to take time out to tutor the slow-witted Crabbe and Goyle in courses they couldn't understand, and confiscated all the candies hidden in their pockets to prevent them from gaining weight.
He even dragged Crabbe and Goyle to the Quidditch pitch with an expressionless face and ordered them to spend some time on their broomsticks every day instead of sitting at the Slytherin table until eternity or sleeping in the library with their mouths drooling.
"Why, Draco, why do you do this to us?" Crabbe wailed. "We've already got the horoscope correct!"
"Vincent Crabbe," Draco said gravely. "I remember you wanting to join the house team as a seeker in your second year. At the beginning of your third year, I saw you and Goyle trying to practice throwing the Quaffle at the evening game. And now, all you want is another bag of Praline Crunch! What's got you down?"
"She—they said I wasn't cut out for it," Crabbe said, blinking his eyes and lowering his head sadly. "I had no talent for Seeker, and I had no talent for Chaser."
"No. No one is born to play Quidditch. Even the most talented people need persistent practice to become good at it," Draco said. "Besides, you haven't found your niche. Vincent, have you ever thought that you might be more suited to being a beater?"
Crabbe looked up at Draco in confusion.
Draco Malfoy, the man who often rudely forced him to do his homework and confiscated his favorite candy, the Draco Malfoy who was always stern with others, was now smiling slightly, with an unexpected hint of encouragement in his eyes: "Have you ever thought that with your tough physique, you might be more suitable to pick up a short stick and deal with the fleeing Bludgers?"
Draco Malfoy, he didn't know when he started to become different from the boy in his childhood memory who never looked at him straight in the eye, only belittled him, and ordered him around like a dog. Crabbe thought in surprise.
"And you, Gregory Goyle! I remember you came to watch the school team's training secretly more than once. Do you dare to say that you have no thoughts in your mind?" Draco said, looking at the equally surprised boy next to Crabbe.
"But..." The dullness on Goyle's face was replaced by a hint of sadness. "No one will believe us. No one respects us. They all laugh at us."
"Respect is something you earn yourself!" Draco glared at him in frustration. "Slytherins only respect the strong. Don't you know that? Be more ambitious! Look at how popular those Quidditch players are in the house! If you want others to stop laughing at you, you have to show some strength! You have to earn honor for the house before you can earn people's respect!"
"But we—" said Goyle uneasily, looking down at his thick, flabby belly.
"No buts. A group of Chasers and Beaters on the house team will be graduating soon, and the team needs fresh blood. This is an opportunity. You may have noticed that Blaise has been practicing Quaffle privately this year. He wants to participate in the upcoming selections and compete for the Chaser position. You can't just sit there and do nothing anymore. You have to seize this opportunity." Draco slammed the short sticks in his hand into their arms and said firmly, "If you want to wear the Slytherin Quidditch uniform and earn the respect of the Slytherins, you need to practice hard."
Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, with some uneasiness and even some shock in their eyes.
"Right now, right now. Go pick up the brooms! I'll hold you accountable." Draco put on a terrifying look, intimidating them, "Don't even think about being lazy."
So, with Hermione Granger busy with her studies and nowhere to be found, and with the occasional wailing of Crabbe and Goyle echoing in the training ground, Draco Malfoy finally found something to distract himself.
"Draco, aren't you a little too free?" Blaise asked skeptically one day as he passed by with the Quaffle in his hand. "Do you really believe they can do it?"
"The point isn't whether I believe it or not, but whether they believe it or not, isn't it?" Draco watched Crabbe bravely embrace the Bludger like a flour bag and shouted at him, "Good! Now try to hit it out with your hand!"
Crabbe grinned back at him—and then a second later, a Bludger staggered him and nearly fell off his broom.
"Merlin's nail polish, it's a disaster! In my opinion, they're just short-lived. They might give up in two days." Pansy frowned and said to Draco, arm in arm with the triumphant Blaise and left with a pessimistic remark, "I bet you my most beloved set of blue and white porcelain cups that they can't be batsmen. This is completely wishful thinking and a waste of effort!"
However, Crabbe and Goyle did not give up. They showed up at the training ground regardless of the sneers and ridicules, rain or shine.
They held on until the day of the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match.
The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was extremely intense and lasted until the afternoon. In the end, Gryffindor defeated Hufflepuff and obtained a score that was enough to tie Slytherin's total score.
Not a penny more, not a penny less.
Reality is always more dramatic than fiction.
"Next, how will Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall determine the ownership of the trophy?" Blaise asked Draco, his mouth twitching. "One office a day? The first thing every morning is to hand over the trophy?"
Draco shrugged, noncommittal.
He wasn't in the best of spirits today. From his angle, he couldn't see many of the Gryffindor seats. There were too many people, completely blocking her view.
After the game, Draco, who had spent the entire day in the stands, devoured a whole steak at the dining table in the auditorium. Then, as usual, he invited Crabbe and Goyle, who had overeaten, to take him for a walk to digest the food.
It was an ordinary evening, the sun about to set. When they reached the grassy slope, they saw Neville Longbottom approaching them. He asked pitifully, "Have you seen my wand? It disappeared at noon today."
"No." Draco looked at him with disdain and couldn't help but complain, "Would you consider piercing a hole in your wand, putting a string through it, and hanging it around your neck?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed secretly on the side.
"My grandmother wouldn't agree. That's my father's wand." Longbottom didn't realize Draco's sarcasm and walked away dejectedly.
He hadn't gone far when Crabbe and Goyle were both laughing their heads off:
"He's such an idiot..."
"Throwing wands every day..."
Draco felt that these two were the ones who should least laugh at Neville's stupidity. Don't you see who checked, tutored, and corrected their homework?
"Stop laughing! Look at your bellies!" Draco glanced at them indifferently. "You've been training for so long, but you're still so fat. Shouldn't you eat some diet meals?"
Crabbe and Goyle stopped laughing and quietly hid the freshly peeled toffees in their palms.
As if to prevent Draco from noticing the dessert, Crabbe was quick-witted and learned to change the subject.
"Draco, I've been wanting to ask you this for a while. I've always felt like you treated Granger from the Lion House differently." Crabbe's face had lost some of its fat recently, and his mind seemed to have lost some of the bathwater. He'd even learned to ask questions and question them. "Some say the rings on your two hands are a couple's rings."
"Did that gossip Pansy say that?" Draco rolled his eyes at the sky. "You believe whatever she says, don't you?"
Crabbe nodded blankly.
"Besides, we both saw you at Honeydukes – cuddling," Goyle said, sliding a toffee under his tongue, ready to chew it when Draco wasn't looking.
"It was an accident! There were so many people!" Draco said with a slight hesitation. His face flushed slightly.
How many people saw it at that time?
"But Pansy said that only boyfriends and girlfriends hug each other. Only boyfriends and girlfriends take care of each other." Crabbe was still struggling with this. "Isn't she—"
"No, she's not my girlfriend. How old is she?" Draco interrupted, hurriedly saying, "I—I think of her as my little sister."
What he said was actually correct. In terms of mental age, he was already 20 years old.
But she was only 14 years old - an age when she knew nothing.
This wasn't the best age difference for romance. His soul was old; she was too young.
Besides, he was filled with concerns. He was forbearing and evasive. He wanted to protect her, not hurt her.
Keeping a safe distance from her may be the best way to protect her.
His life is already filled with too much darkness and secrets.
He also needed to focus on dealing with the Dark Lord.
Most importantly, she wouldn't like him.
She has plenty of people to like.
She's been so distant to him lately and hasn't been paying much attention to him, has she?
So why bother? Why add to your troubles?
Draco watched the afterglow illuminating the grass and found the scene somewhat melancholy.
"Let's go, let's go back." He sighed, dropped the topic, stopped his frivolous thoughts, and planned to walk back to the real castle.
As they turned around the stone behind them and were about to head towards the corridor, Draco spotted Harry behind the stone. He was looking at them in surprise, holding the Firebolt in his hand, as if he had just returned from the stadium.
There were two people behind him, Ron and Hermione.
Hermione's face had turned pale.
She rushed over and pointed her wand at the tip of his nose: "Draco Malfoy, you bastard!"
Draco hadn't seen her in what seemed like a century.
She had been elusive for a while now, nowhere to be seen. How could she suddenly appear out of nowhere?
Of course, what he had never seen was her so angry in this life.
She had never been so angry with him in her life.
"Hermione - are you pointing your wand at me?" Draco looked at her in surprise and said in a hurt tone.
"Come on, Hermione. It's not that bad, is it?" Ron said uneasily, trying to talk down the furious Hermione.
If the vengeful Medusa had a physical form, Ron would bet she would look like Hermione now.
"You don't understand!" Hermione yelled back at Ron. She glared at Draco again, her eyes surging with seawater and burning with fire. "You disgusting little cockroach! After what you did to me, you actually say you treat me like a sister?"
"What's the matter?" "I don't know either." Draco heard Crabbe and Goyle whispering behind him in an excited tone.
"What's the matter?" In fact, Draco was also a little confused, so he couldn't help but ask.
He had long felt that her recent attitude towards him was somewhat baffling and strange.
Distance, avoidance, hiding.
Maybe there is some misunderstanding between them?
"You - you kissed me!" Hermione tried to hold back again and again, filtering out the memories that made her heart palpitate in her mind. Finally, she couldn't help it, her face flushed, and she said the most outrageous thing.
There were gasps all around them—the sounds coming from Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle.
Before today, the attitudes of the four of them had never been so highly unified.
But today, they are in sync.
"When did it happen?" Draco was a little stunned.
How come he has no recollection of this happening?
"You kissed me, and then you just forgot about it?" Hermione's face turned redder and her expression became more angry.
Is he going to deny that forehead kiss? This bastard!
Did he feel nothing about all the touching, holding hands, and hugging between them a while ago?
He even held her in his arms and slept with her in the hospital bed in the school for one night. Was he teasing her?
"I really don't remember this. Besides, I don't think this is the best place to discuss such things." Draco said with a slight frown.
Shouldn't we discuss this kind of thing in a quiet place where no one is around?
Being surrounded by a group of onlookers and discussing topics that involve girls' privacy is so indecent.
Hermione glared at him fiercely, the tip of her wand lowering slowly.
This scene is so similar to the last life! Draco thought.
However, her reason for wanting to attack him had completely changed.
Kissed her? Had he done that? If so, how could he not remember it?
kiss.
Draco looked at her slightly parted lips in anger, and a word flashed through his mind at an inappropriate time. He swallowed and a smile involuntarily appeared at the corner of his mouth.
However, this smile made Hermione, who was trying to calm down, lose her mind again.
This smile! He must be laughing at her!
So she thrust out her fist and punched him hard in the nose in a rage.
Oh, this fist of fate, it hit him hard on the nose. It seemed to knock him unconscious, but also seemed to wake him up.
"You shouldn't have teased me!" she yelled at him with tears in her eyes.
She scornfully pulled the silver ring off her finger and flung it in his face, then turned and strode away from him, running down the hill towards Hagrid's hut.
Harry and Ron cast a shocked and sympathetic glance at Draco, who was holding his nose, and trotted off to catch up with Hermione in the gray-purple twilight.
"Don't tell anyone." Draco looked at the three hurriedly moving black dots with a gloomy face and threatened Goyle and Crabbe. They were obviously stunned by this exciting scene and nodded hurriedly to Draco.
Hermione Granger's self-esteem had never been so completely destroyed.
Those secret thoughts, the feelings that had fermented for a long time and were finally confirmed by her, were ruthlessly thrown to the ground by the damn Draco Malfoy and crushed in front of everyone.
As soon as she entered Hagrid's hut, she let out a loud sob, which startled the large Hagrid.
"What's wrong?" He scratched his head, hurriedly brought her a chair and asked her to sit down.
Harry and Ron quietly explained to Hagrid what had just happened.
"Draco Malfoy." He said sternly, shaking his large, shaggy head in disapproval. He said seriously, "There are so many good Gryffindor boys you could like, and you chose to like a Slytherin!"
Hermione shuddered and cried even louder.
"Malfoy, their whole family are dark wizards, very bad, extremely bad. When You-Know-Who was in power, they were the most loyal believers." Hagrid swallowed with lingering fear and placed a cup of freshly brewed hot tea in front of Hermione. "No good will come of hanging out with him."
"He's not like that!" Hermione said tearfully, hiccuping. "He's not—"
"He's made you cry like this, and you're still speaking up for him?" Hagrid glanced at Hermione with disapproval. "That Malfoy brat is a coward, and his vision isn't very good! He doesn't even dare to ride Buckbeak, what a beautiful and funny little darling he is!"
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, still refusing to remind Hagrid of his unrealistic understanding of the dangers of some magical creatures. They had never quite agreed with Hagrid's views on what he called "interesting animals."
"Okay, okay, I dare say he will regret it one day for missing out on such a smart and outstanding girl like you. After all, they haven't invented the spells that our Hermione can't use!" said Hagrid proudly.
Hermione finally stopped crying. She blushed brightly when Hagrid praised her.
She sniffed and took a sip of the hot tea. Her friend's company made her feel better, although her heart still ached.
She still thinks about that boy. The boy who broke her heart.
Hagrid stood up and took the boiling kettle from the stove, wanting to give them more tea.
"Oh, by the way, Hermione, is that the big ginger cat yours?" Hagrid looked out the window in front of the stove at the fields. "It's been hanging around outside my house all day. I think it might be hungry..."
Suddenly, a stone came from nowhere and broke the tea can on Hagrid's desk, and the tea scattered all over the table. A mouse with a bald spot squeaked and slid out of the tea can.
Ron looked at it and his expression suddenly changed.
"Wait, why does this mouse look familiar to me? Does it look like Banban?" He grabbed the struggling mouse and held it up to the light to examine it.
It looked scary, thin, bald, and with much hair missing, and it twisted wildly in Ron's hands. In the last ray of light from the setting sun, which had not yet completely sunk, they saw the remains of one of the rat's toes.
"Peter Pettigrew!" Harry suddenly jumped up, knocking over the teacup on the table.
"It's him!"
At this moment, the restless mouse suddenly bit Ron hard. Ron screamed and subconsciously threw the mouse to the ground.
Then they watched helplessly as the mouse rolled quickly on the ground and slipped out through the back door which Hagrid had opened a crack.
"No!" Harry shouted. "Get him!"
He didn't care about anything else. He grabbed his wand and ran after the mouse.
"Hagrid, go tell Dumbledore!" Hermione finally ignored her bad mood. She turned and shouted to Hagrid, who was standing there in a daze, and then she and Ron followed Harry's footsteps and ran into the fields in the dusk.
Gore's Diary (Part 1)
Weather on May 1, 1994: Sunny
I only ate ten packets of praline candies today and lost my appetite; Vincent was no match for me this time, and his tenth packet was confiscated by Draco.
By the way, when did Draco find out that I was secretly watching the school team's training?
Instead of laughing at me like everyone else, he let Vincent and I go to Quidditch practice?
Weather on May 2, 1994: Sunny
By the way, what Draco said yesterday - "Respect is earned" - was it true?
He's such a powerful person, so what he says must be right, right?
I swung at the bludger fifty times and was exhausted.
Weather on May 3, 1994: Cloudy
Can I—Gregory Goyle—really?
Will I ever be able to wear the college team's uniform?
I asked Draco about this, and he looked me up and down, frowning at my stomach.
He suddenly ordered me to go running.
After the run, he was forced to hit the Bludger fifty times.
Damn it! I shouldn't have asked that question.
Weather on May 4, 1994: cloudy to light rain
I really shouldn't have asked that question yesterday!
Draco decided that Vincent and I would run ten laps around the training ground every day!
And we're not allowed to eat any more pralines!
After running, you still have to hit the Bludger fifty times!
Weather on May 5, 1994: Forgot
We ran ten laps early this morning and hit the Bludger fifty times!
Just when we were about to take a break, Draco came to check our Transfiguration homework!
Wait - did Professor McGonagall assign homework - when was it?
I finished my homework until 12 o'clock in the morning.
Weather on May 6, 1994: Sunny
He handed in his homework on time, and celebrated with Vincent in the auditorium by eating and drinking, but was caught by Draco.
Draco thought we ate too much, so he asked us to run fifteen laps and hit the bludger a hundred times.
unlucky!
Weather on May 7, 1994: Rain
Today is the weekend and Vincent and I both want to take a day off.
Need to talk to Draco.
We followed him to the boys' restroom, hoping to talk about this when there were fewer people around.
However, as soon as we opened the door, we found that Draco had knocked out a senior Gryffindor boy who had spoken rudely to him yesterday with his wand and stuck his head into the toilet.
Hearing us push the door open, he raised his head and glared at us. "What's wrong? Want to try it?"
His expression is so scary!
never mind.
Neither of us dared to go in. We closed the door, stood outside, and waited patiently for him to come out.
Then, under his gloomy gaze, he ran obediently fifteen laps and hit the Bludger a hundred times.
Eat a piece of toffee hidden under your pillow to calm your nerves.
Weather on May 8, 1994: cloudy to overcast
Today, Parkinson laughed at Vincent as he passed by the training ground.
Vincent was so shocked that he even ate two bowls less of rice.
Draco said, "Oh, you should have eaten less."
Continue running fifteen laps, hitting the Bludger one hundred times.
By the tenth lap, Vincent regretted it.
He said with a bitter face, "I shouldn't have skipped those two bowls of rice."
well!
I secretly handed him a piece of toffee from my own stash so that he could suck on it to relieve his boredom.
Weather on May 9, 1994: Cloudy to sunny
Vincent lost his temper.
He clung to the sofa in the common room and refused to go to the training ground.
Zabini, who passed by, laughed at us and said we were "a hopeless case".
"Mud is mud! Even if you turn me into a slug, I won't get up!" Vincent said with despair, "I'm tired and hungry, and my arms and legs don't belong to me anymore!"
Draco waved his wand expressionlessly, knocking away three Slytherin students who tried to touch him.
As the students' friends were digging them down from the wall, Draco, playing with his wand, turned back to Vincent and asked, "What did you just say—say it again?"
Vincent said nothing more.
He stood up shakily and followed us to the training ground.
So, Draco sat in the stands under the setting sun, playing with his wand, while the two of us ran laps below the stands, panting.
Vincent ran around crying fifteen times and hit the Bludger a hundred times.
I didn't cry - my tears turned to sweat - I was too tired to cry.
Weather on May 10, 1994: Sunny
I guess Vincent was so obedient yesterday because he was afraid that Draco would knock him against the wall.
But he still couldn't escape today.
At noon, he probably intended to jump out from the corner to scare me, but he didn't know that Draco behind him was walking faster than me.
If he wants to scare Draco Malfoy, he probably doesn't want to live anymore.
Yes, Vincent was embedded in the wall - it took me a long time to pick him off.
Draco looked at us and said with a half-smile, "I shouldn't have underestimated you. It turns out you still have the energy to mess with others!"
He told us to run around the training ground twenty times and hit the Bludgers two hundred times!
For the first time in my life, I felt that Vincent was even dumber than I was.
I'm so tired.
Weather on May 11, 1994: Whatever
As usual, run twenty laps around the training ground and hit the Bludger two hundred times!
As usual, he was ridiculed by the Slytherins passing by, and gloated over by the Gryffindors passing by!
But we can't stop, because Draco said that if we don't finish the exercise, he will throw us into the pile of Dementors!
He's not serious, is he?
Weather on May 12, 1994: Rain
Zabini had such a good relationship with Draco, but today he was also knocked away by Draco!
Shocked the whole hospital!
Indiscriminate attack!
Parkinson was almost heartbroken, but she didn't dare to avenge her boyfriend. She could only jump up and down and curse in the stands!
Draco seemed to say something to her, and she suddenly fell silent.
Later, Parkinson passed away with a grim face.
Run around the training ground twenty times and hit the Bludger one hundred and ninety-nine times!
Hehe, I took advantage of them to have a little fun while they were arguing!
Weather on May 13, 1994: Cloudy
Run around the training ground twenty times and hit the Bludger two hundred and one times!
Yes, Draco caught me slacking off - he told me to make it up today.
"It won't happen again." He said to me with a sneer, sitting on the sofa in the common room, flipping through a thick book whose name I couldn't read.
I think he might as well not smile!
Fortunately, however, he is too busy to bother us today.
Today, he knocked away Daphne Greengrass who tried to attack him in the Slytherin common room, and was surrounded and strongly condemned by a group of Slytherin girls.
I don't know how he dealt with those unreasonable girls.
Anyway, by the time we finished training and walked into the common room, sweating profusely, he was already leisurely playing wizard chess with Theodore Nott.
The girls around him didn't dare to surround him anymore, and even didn't dare to look at him anymore. It seemed that they were avoiding him as much as possible.
Weather on May 14, 1994: Average
Run around the training ground twenty times and hit the Bludger two hundred times.
Tomorrow is the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff match.
Finally—the Quidditch pitch usually used for training was occupied by a match—Vincent and I could have a legitimate day off!
Looking forward to tomorrow.
Weather on May 15, 1994: OK
We've already figured out that we need to find an opportunity today to discuss with Draco the number of times we need to hit the Bludgers - two hundred times per person is too many!
But when we came downstairs that morning, we heard him scolding the usually mean Millicent Bulstrode to tears, asking her to stop calling Granger a "Mudblood".
It seemed that he was in a bad mood and it was not a good time to talk.
As we walked towards the Quidditch pitch, we wanted to go up to him and talk to him, but he was busy exchanging harsh words with Zacharias Smith, making the Hufflepuff's face look like a big plum in anger.
While watching the game, Draco seemed to have gone temporarily deaf, and no matter how we called him, he ignored us.
He had been looking at the Gryffindor stands.
The ball is in the sky! What is he looking at?
I thought this was very strange, so I asked Vincent next to me. Vincent said mysteriously that he was probably looking at Granger.
Oh, Draco's study partner.
A Gryffindor bastard—Bulstrode's cries are still ringing in my ears—didn't dare say anything.
After the game, the training ground still needed to be cleaned up.
There's a chance we'll escape today and not have to run twenty laps around the training ground or hit the Bludger two hundred times!
Draco didn't seem to think about the fact that we still need to train today.
He quickly taught a Gryffindor a lesson for throwing dragon dung at him—he stuffed the dung into his mouth—and then said he would take us for a walk around the castle to help us digest the food.
Neither Vincent nor I dared to refuse him, so we tied the Gryffindor to a tree and followed him.
Then, everything happened so suddenly.
We hadn't even finished digesting the whole "Draco kissed Granger" thing; we watched Draco stand there obediently and let Granger punch him, and he didn't dare to fight back.
I dare not fight back!
This is the first time in my life that I have seen Draco Malfoy so cowardly!
Where has the ruthless young master who has brought all the Slytherin house under his control gone?
Vincent and I looked at each other and wanted to ask him what was going on.
Unexpectedly, he glared at us fiercely and told us to hit 300 Bludgers.
Three hundred of them—three hundred each—is there anyone worse off than we are?
Granger had given a good beating.
Today we completed hitting the Bludger 300 times; since Draco didn't ask us to, we didn't run laps, hehe!
Weather on May 16, 1994: Sunny
Complete twenty laps and hit the Bludger three hundred times.
I don't know what Draco was busy with today, he didn't come to supervise us.
But I finished it; and so did Vincent.
For the first time, we completed the day's training completely consciously, even though we were extremely tired.
Tonight's dinner is especially delicious.