Chapter 98: Dehe's Past Life Story (4-7): Cold, Alone, Angry, and Shaking
Past Life Story 4: The Cold Granger
Time: Third Year, Care of Magical Creatures
Location: Forbidden Forest; School Hospital
After entering his third year, Draco Malfoy always felt weird.
He was growing rapidly and he was always hungry.
Occasionally, a mixture of weakness and anger would surge in his body, emotions often triggered by Hermione Granger.
Her harsh words last year had filled him with anger until recently.
But this anger seemed to have become a habit. Whenever he thought of her, he would be filled with anger.
Hermione Granger!
The girl he had called "Mudblood" for a whole year. The girl who had gradually become cold and indifferent to him.
He could feel the change in her.
When he went to provoke Potter, she would no longer raise her eyes from the top of the page to look at him inquiringly, she would not even bother to lift her eyelids to him.
This behavior of not taking him seriously only annoyed him at first, and even made him feel relieved for a period of time.
But now, it made him a little angry.
Several times, he wanted to say something to her, but was repelled by her arrogant and cold appearance and could not open his mouth.
Whenever he encountered her, whether in class, in the library or in the corridor, she was arrogant and cold.
Sometimes, he would deliberately push and shove past her angrily to get her attention, even if she opened her mouth and complained that he was "rude."
But she didn't. She just frowned, moved away from him, and ignored him.
She never spoke to him again - as he had hoped.
The funny thing is, when his dream came true, he felt a little lost.
Draco Malfoy would never admit that he might have made a mistake; nor would he admit that his words might be harsh enough to hurt a girl's fragile self-esteem.
She didn't look hurt.
A hurt person should cry, moan like Longbottom; or, like those other girls he easily made cry, cry their eyes out and run away with their hands covering their faces.
As for her, she always walked past him with her head held high, looking down on him completely.
The only girl in the whole grade who dared to look down on him.
Even the Slytherins noticed her contemptuous attitude towards him.
"Draco, are you going to let her look down on you like this?" One day, Pansy seemed unable to bear it any longer. She said to him, "You have to put down her arrogance and use your sharpness to deal with her. You have to let everyone know the price of despising you. If you can't even suppress a 'Mudblood', they will think you are weak."
They - referring to the Slytherin students.
"I don't want to talk to her." Draco put on a cold attitude, feeling that Pansy was meddling in his affairs. He felt a little embarrassed and added superfluously, "It's totally unnecessary."
"Draco, you wouldn't be afraid to talk to her, would you?" Pansy looked at him suspiciously and asked pointedly, "Please, are you afraid of her?"
"Of course not! I can talk to her anytime! Whenever I want to!" Draco was exposed and felt a little angry.
In fact, he did lack the experience of actively speaking to Granger.
He never spoke to her on his own initiative, believing that this would lead him to weakness.
In order to prove that he was not "afraid to talk to Granger", in the Care of Magical Creatures class that day, he followed Granger, Potter and Weasley like a ghost, listening carefully to what they were saying to see if he could interject and achieve his feat of "taking the initiative to talk to Granger".
"They're really interesting." The brown-haired girl said to Potter and the others, with her back to him, putting the crazy textbook on a big rock.
"That's very interesting," Draco finally said, and he said it in a sarcastic tone that deserved a beating - like any other bastard boy trying to attract a girl - and finally got Granger's attention.
She turned her head, her bright, cat-like eyes looking at him unconcealedly, an unexpected expression flashing on her face.
"How funny! This place is going to be ruined soon." Draco looked into her eyes, a slight joy in his heart, and his habitual sarcasm came out, "If my father knew that Dumbledore let this fool teach us..."
Now, she refused to meet his gaze again, and instead looked away to look at the book on the stone.
What good could there be in a book about biting people? Draco listened to Crabbe and Goyle's coordinated laughter and looked at her profile with a haughty expression, thinking that she was the girl in the world who couldn't distinguish between the primary and the secondary and the focus.
"Shut up, Malfoy." Potter rushed out, stood in front of Granger and confronted him.
Oh, Saint Pot!
He always thought that Draco Malfoy's provocations were directed at him. Potter was too arrogant!
He didn't need to show any mercy to Potter. Draco simply pretended to be a Dementor to scare him, hoping Potter would move away and out of his sight. He didn't care if Potter's face turned pale with fear after rejecting his friendship.
Through the vision near Potter's ear, he only saw that Granger was frightened by his words for a moment, and even turned back nervously to check the bushes, like a silly cat.
Then, she probably realized that he was bluffing.
She walked up quickly, pulled Potter away amid the Slytherins' laughter, and gave him a look of contempt.
Contempt? When was it her turn to despise him? It was as if she saw through him. His heart skipped a beat.
Then he noticed that her furrowed eyebrows were dark in color and beautifully shaped.
Frowning? Not bad, at least not a cold expression.
Granger still had some emotions towards him! Draco ignored his own erratic heartbeat and was only concerned with being proud of Granger's newfound emotions towards him.
In the following Care of Magical Creatures class, Draco suddenly became a little excited.
He seemed to have found some way to stir Granger's emotions. He was shouting loudly in class, constantly trying to show off, and constantly making things difficult for Hagrid, the fool, just hoping to see her frown at him again.
But then there was the tragedy. Perhaps because he was so proud of himself, he ignored the danger around him. The Hippogriff, displeased with him, attacked him. Amid the screams of the crowd, he fell to the ground.
The funny thing was that his first feeling wasn't pain, but sight. He noticed that she had finally frowned again, and through his distorted vision, he saw her face turn pale in an instant.
Then, the pain in the body came slowly but surely.
The wound burned, deep, and painful. Draco, pampered and cherished by his parents, had never suffered anything like this. When the blood soaked his sleeve, he finally panicked and lay on the ground, yelling loudly.
In the depth of this panic-stricken agony, he heard her footsteps, the hurried rustling of the grass under her feet.
She came closer like the wind, bringing with her the scent of vibrant green apples. He heard her crisply giving orders to Hagrid, as if she were the professor at Hogwarts, taking control of the situation: "You have to take him to the hospital!"
As Hagrid carried him away, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, running over to help Hagrid open the door. He saw worry on her face, and her eyes met his briefly.
It was at this time that he began to hear auditory hallucinations.
He seemed to hear her silently asking, "Are you okay, Malfoy?" In an instant he was back on the cramped stairs of Flourish and Blotts, back to that painful afternoon smelling of book dust, back to the brief moment when she huddled in his arms in panic.
His memory after that was hazy. Madam Pomfrey applied medicine and bandages to him, telling him, "Everything will be fine."
How could it possibly get better? This kind of pain will probably never go away.
His pride had been trampled by that ugly bird of prey, and he felt weak and embarrassed. He had made a fool of himself in front of so many students, and even more terrible, he had lost face in front of her.
But she didn't laugh at him. Her worried eyes kept lingering in his mind, making him feel weaker than ever before.
For the first time, he felt that he was insignificant, not invincible. All his actions, words and emotions today were not what his father approved of.
He felt fear. In the face of absolute power, he was nothing.
He could not help groaning, feeling the pain in his heart. Many Slytherin classmates came to see him, they gave him some false concern, and took the opportunity to see how happy he was.
The crowd was crowded, but she was not there.
Of course she wouldn't come. She was a Gryffindor and a friend of his nemesis, Potter.
He probably meant nothing to her.
She would probably look down on him, as if she could find his weakness.
However, when the students were all going to class, she suddenly appeared.
Like a chipmunk peeking out, her small head hid behind the door of the school hospital, looking at him through the crack.
"What a rare visitor." The moment he spotted her, he stopped groaning and felt his face getting a little hot. He cleared his throat and said in a drawling voice, "What are you doing here? You were scratched too? I thought that idiot only caught pure-blood wizards."
"It's not called a fool, it's called a hippogriff." She simply walked out from behind the door and said with a red face.
"Whatever it's called, since it provoked me, it must bear the consequences." Draco struggled to stand up from the bed, staring at her shining eyes, feeling annoyed and annoyed, and said firmly, "I am not someone who can be provoked easily."
"Malfoy, you deserved it! I saw it all clearly from the side. Who told you to be rude to it first?" Granger moved closer and closer to him, as if because he was injured in bed, she dared to be tougher with him. "I can testify to this, and all the students will testify to it!"
"Go ahead and tell the governors, and the Ministry—" Draco said coldly.
He was hurt by her attitude. He had thought she was there to show concern for him, or at least to offer some comfort to his classmates. Unexpectedly, she was there to show off.
So, she probably hadn't been doing it for him when she reminded Hagrid to take him to the hospital wing, and all the running around.
She didn't care if he lived or died. She probably just wanted to keep that uncouth fool in his teaching position.
"See whether they listen to you or my father." He put on an indifferent look and felt his wound aching again.
She frowned, looked at him, then at his right arm, as if she noticed he was in pain.
How could it be possible? Was his acting so bad? He wouldn't cry out "pain" in front of her.
"I heard you kept crying out in pain," she said slowly, her eyes roaming suspiciously over his face. "I always thought you were seriously injured. I was even a little worried... Never mind, there's nothing much to say. But I found that you were quite resilient. You could argue with me without showing any pain. Malfoy, you're not pretending, are you?"
Draco's eyes widened. Did she realize that she was forcing herself to—
"You're not pretending to be seriously injured to frame Hagrid, are you?" she said, with an expression of utter disgust for him on her face.
Draco was pissed off at her train of thought.
He thought she saw through his weakness, but he didn't expect her to put such a hat on him.
The budding joy in his heart wilted before it could even grow. Boredom and anger surged up again. He smiled at her, a sinister smile. "Yes, that's right! Since you expect that, I'll do as you wish."
"I don't expect anything! Can you at least be a human being and do something human?" She looked at him with a hopeless look, as if he were some pathetic slug.
Why did he have to be treated like this by her when he was so weak?
"Madam Pomfrey, please let her out," Draco suddenly shouted at the door. He was determined not to have any pathetic hope for Granger anymore, hoping that she would suddenly have a brain short circuit and care about him.
In fact, he didn't need her attention at all. She would just be indifferent. Yes, he thought viciously, that's it.
He said to her coldly, "I don't need you. I don't need you to visit me. I don't need to listen to you blaming me and humiliating me. Get out! You mean nothing to me."
Her expression turned cold, so cold that it made him feel uneasy.
He was like an ice sculpture, ignoring the coldness and determined to compete with her to see who could be colder.
She said nothing, never looked at him again, and strode out.
He remained silent, exiled himself to the hospital bed again, and closed his eyes in frustration with an inexplicable sense of self-contempt.
Past Life Story 5: Granger is Alone
Time: Third Year, after Buckbeak is complained about, Hermione has fallen out with Harry and Ron over the Firebolt and Scabbers
Location: The oak tree by the Black Lake; the library; the Forbidden Forest; the oak tree by the Forbidden Forest
Draco found that he was still angry at Granger's cold attitude.
Even though this cold attitude was largely his own fault, he still felt that he was not wrong. No visitor should come to the ward with her suspicious attitude. She really knew how to ignite his anger.
When he woke up from his sleep in the hospital bed, he cursed her for her hateful mouth and thought about how to deal with this ungrateful girl.
Her cold face was like a piece of fine porcelain, and he always wanted to break it.
He spoke loudly at the Slytherin table, trying to show his hurt, but she responded coldly; he howled like a wolf in Defense Against the Dark Arts class to interrupt her, but she responded coldly; finally, he used his trump card - to embarrass the damned hippogriff - ahaha!, and hit her right where she was.
Merlin's beard, she finally came to find him.
Look, she was standing under the big oak tree by the Black Lake, with her hands on her hips menacingly, looking up at him with her little face, her eyes narrowed slightly by the sunlight: "Malfoy, you bastard! You can't do this to it, it's innocent!"
"I thought you'd thank me for not giving Hagrid a hard time." He jumped down from the oak tree, startling her and causing her to step back. He gave her a gloating smile, feeling a little proud. "As for that ugly thing, it deserved it."
He had already been so kind as to ask his father, Lucius, to show mercy to Hagrid—she should be thankful for that. Otherwise, Dumbledore's words might not have been effective.
After all, the people in the Ministry of Magic had long disliked Hogwarts. They wanted to clean up the school, but they were just worried about having no target.
He had been very kind to Granger. Even when she came to spoil his fun, doubted him, and slandered him when he was seriously injured, he still let her go.
He felt like he was almost becoming a philanthropist.
As for the Hippogriff—such a dangerous creature should be euthanized.
It's necessary to make an example of someone, otherwise anyone could try to stab a Malfoy by claiming it was an "accident" or "careless." This is absolutely unacceptable.
Anyone who intends to hurt Malfoy actively or passively, anyone who dares to damage Malfoy's interests openly or privately, should open their eyes and take a good look at the consequences they will bear, right?
That's what his father, Lucius, told him. It must be true, Draco thought haughtily.
"I don't think you have any intention of repenting." She showed that confusing expression again.
Her eyelashes were thick and dense, and they fluttered like brown butterflies, like the butterflies that had once quietly fluttered over an oak tree, making him feel the lushness of leaves at one moment and the desolation of the plain at another.
She said in a tone of inexplicable hurt, "I still can't believe it... Why can you be so cruel? It's a life... I thought you could at least have a little compassion, like in Flourish and Blotts—"
"This matter has reached the level of the Ministry of Magic, little Mudblood!" Draco interrupted her hastily, afraid that she would tear off some terrible veil, afraid that she would scratch him with her claws like a bird of prey and expose her vulnerability.
He took a breath and used his strongest tone to provoke her, "My father will not withdraw the lawsuit. Hurting me is a dead end. Just save your energy and accept the reality!"
She was frowning.
She looked like she was sad for that damn bird of prey.
Had she misplaced her compassion? He was the one dying, the one seriously injured, and had she ever shown the slightest sympathy for him?
A cruel girl. A sharp-tongued girl. A girl who could never tell the difference between right and wrong.
"Malfoy, don't call me that! Is your head full of slugs? Do you know what you look like? You're like a spoiled child, never thinking about whether your behavior will hurt others." The sharp-tongued girl seemed a little disappointed, and said some incomprehensible words.
Hurt? He was the one who was hurt, wasn't he? Draco thought unconvincedly, she had been hurting him all along, that's right! From the very beginning! As soon as he saw her, he felt that something was wrong with her. Everything about her was an eyesore to him.
If he avoided her, she would hurt him; if he didn't avoid her, she would still hurt him; even if she did nothing, he would feel like she was about to hurt him at any time!
This girl, whom Draco regarded as a scourge, had no idea how destructive she was.
She continued to stare at him with a look of unyielding determination in her eyes, and declared to him arrogantly: "It's just a proposal! I don't think the people in the Ministry of Magic are fools and will listen to your family's orders. There will be people willing to listen to our defense! I will prepare sufficient defense evidence for this poor animal! Just wait and see, Malfoy!"
She was quite naive, naive to the point of being foolish, and foolish to the point of being ridiculous.
Did she actually think that the people in the Ministry of Magic would be fair? Draco looked at her furious expression and suddenly felt that his anger had subsided a little, and he even felt that his mood had improved.
Why is he the only one secretly angry?
As the direct cause of his anger, she should feel his anger and feel the torture he suffered.
She will surely suffer a severe beating from reality.
Draco smiled leisurely, his grey eyes fixed on hers, which were a little too bright with anger. He took out a green apple from his pocket and took a leisurely bite. While chewing vigorously, he looked at her and said to her fiercely, "I'll wait and see."
Granger was clearly very fond of the Hippogriff.
Draco could always see her frantically searching for information in the library, staggering through the long corridors carrying a stack of books taller than herself, an eyesore that distracted him from his studies.
Although she made no sound and walked quietly, he still felt that her presence made the air in the library unusually noisy.
Maybe it was because of that messy hair, yes! Every day he wanted to say to that messy hair: "Shut up!"
He always felt that the hair was staring at him, or mocking his incompetence, weakness, etc. The hair made him feel uneasy, but it was not because he felt any uneasy emotions.
He would never admit that he was a little concerned about one thing: he suddenly realized that she was alone.
She was doing this alone. She was looking up those stupid books about hippogriffs alone. He'd thought Potter and Weasley would at least help her out.
But no, none of them paid any attention to the stupid bird. Only she was stubbornly doing some useless and time-wasting work. She did it alone, without any reason, without asking for any reward.
This was something new—Draco had never seen anyone like it.
What was she trying to do? Any Malfoy who was motivated by profit couldn't understand her behavior, just as Draco couldn't control himself from paying attention to this matter.
After all, this matter concerns him. It's only natural for him to be concerned, right?
Also, what was up with those two brainless creatures? Why hadn't they sat with her for so long?
She is alone every day.
Perhaps she had finally grown tired of their stupidity, Draco thought maliciously.
After Christmas, he discovered more details. In Care of Magical Creatures class, those two Gryffindor idiots didn't say a word to her.
Oh, it seems that Potter and Weasley have figured it out. Talking to a little mudblood is lowering one's status? He laughed mockingly, thinking that those Gryffindors who shouted "equal treatment of all backgrounds" were no more than that.
He stood in the cold January wind, looking at her coldly, watching how she was alone, how she went to the remote corners of the forbidden forest to find firewood, or put leaves on the campfire alone.
Facing a salamander leaping in flames, her profile looked a little sad.
Sadness? What did a little Mudblood know about sadness? This was even more bizarre than "coldness."
Look at her clumsy appearance, still looking for firewood! She is almost as miserable as a piece of firewood that no one wants.
At this moment, Crabbe and Goyle were wandering off somewhere. Seeing no one around, Draco couldn't help but secretly follow her and found her struggling to drag a long dry branch out of the bushes, preparing to walk towards the bonfire.
As luck would have it, the branch at the other end of the dead tree had gotten tangled in a bush and was stuck. She didn't seem to notice at all, and was still trying to drag it out furiously—as if to vent her anger—and was about to fall into the muddy ground beside her and fall flat on her butt.
Draco wanted to see her fall in. But inexplicably, he supported her back with both hands and called her a "reckless person".
She jumped, and when she turned around to see it was him, the emotion in her eyes immediately changed from panic to fear, "Malfoy? What are you doing?"
"You want to roll in the mud, little mudblood?" He quickly pulled his hand away, taunting her lazily, "I didn't know you'd picked up a new hobby."
"Don't call me that! Also, stay away from me!" She jumped aside warily, keeping a distance from him, confused like a lost rabbit.
"How rude! You can't even say 'thank you'." He said coldly, with a slight displeasure in his heart.
Why does she always look so alert?
He has overcome his psychological barriers and taken the initiative to talk to her, so what else does she want from him?
He couldn't understand her. He couldn't understand himself either. It was so cold, his brain must have frozen.
"I didn't ask you to help me. I never asked you to help me. I think you just came here to insult me, you always do this!" Her raised face turned a little red, and she glanced at him with disdain from the corner of her eyes, "The matter with Buckbeak is not over yet! I won't give up!"
"Who's Buckbeak?" he asked haughtily.
"Malfoy, you—" she said angrily, her face flushing red. "You nearly killed it, and you didn't even remember its name?"
"Oh, you mean that ugly bird? How long ago was that? Potter and Weasley didn't care anymore, and you were the only one foolish enough to think you could save it," Draco said nonchalantly, offering a rare bit of kind advice. "Don't waste your time. Don't you have anything else to think about? I think Gryffindor will soon have too little room for you."
Why was she worried about that stupid thing? That unpopular, dangerous creature? Why wasn't she worried about whether she was popular? She had no friends, spent her days buried in books, and rushed through the corridors like a frightened bird.
Poor Granger, he can't even take care of himself, and he still has to care about others.
Some people used to think she was smart! Now she looks like a fool, Draco thought to himself.
"Oh my God, you're hopeless. You don't take its life seriously at all." She put on a disappointed expression, as if she was despising him again. "I have nothing to say to you."
"As if anyone would even bother talking to you!" Draco was stung by her tone.
A gust of cold wind cleared his mind. He shouldn't have spoken to her. So he turned and walked away, leaving behind a sentence, "Just stay by yourself, little mudblood! No one wants to talk to you!"
"Shut up, Malfoy!" She seemed to be hurt by his words and shouted angrily at his back.
You're quite angry, Granger. He walked back swinging his hands, feeling somewhat pleased with himself, though he didn't know what he was pleased about—in any case, it couldn't possibly be because he had spoken to her today.
As for the matter of "she being isolated", Draco quickly found out the reason.
It's so unfair that "Poter", the show-off scarred guy, actually received a Firebolt as an anonymous Christmas gift.
Apparently, Granger had informed Professor McGonagall, who was overly concerned for the students' safety, that the Firebolt had been confiscated, and he heard Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor captain, complaining loudly about it in front of the whole table.
That was why those two idiots, Potter and Weasley, ignored her.
Well done, Granger. It would have been even better if the Firebolt had been confiscated a little longer, to last through the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match.
To be honest, that Firebolt is pretty good. But it would be even better if someone cast a curse on it to recreate the state of the runaway broom in first year and embarrass Potter. Draco smiled slyly and stared at the girl who was studying hard.
It was a blessing for Potter, a man with a giant head, to think of this. However, a brain is a good thing, but unfortunately, Potter didn't have it. All Potter knew was to bully the little girl and vent his anger on her.
Draco suddenly felt an urge as he crossed the crowd. He wanted to pick a fight with Scarhead Potter and get a closer look at her. But she remained indifferent to everything, reading her thick book.
Typical Hermione Granger - allergic to shiny things, only interested in the pathetic.
Granger, your self-righteous and careless concern, your cleverness that not everyone can recognize, is completely misplaced, do you know? Draco thought angrily - you only know how to take your anger out on me.
He provoked Potter, but she still didn't look up. Rolling his eyes, Draco walked back to the Slytherin table. At this time, he heard Marcus Flint muttering to himself: "Got to find a way to make Potter less cocky, right?"
Draco narrowed his eyes, staring at her, and said to Marcus, "That's right. Captain, do you have any ideas?"
Apparently, Marcus's plan wasn't very effective. After the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match, Draco was docked fifty points for impersonating a Dementor.
The Slytherins' attitude towards Draco and the other three inevitably became a little colder. It wasn't that they disapproved of Draco and the others' pranks, they just disapproved of their brainless tactics that not only failed to scare Potter, but also got them caught.
Draco didn't want to face anyone for this.
He was in self-loathing, reflecting on the method they had adopted, thinking that he might have gone crazy, and that the method was indeed not very smart. Why did he agree to do this?
Draco had no choice but to follow Granger's lead and leave himself alone. He hid himself in the large oak tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He climbed high up, completely cloaking himself in the oak's dense leaves. If someone hadn't specifically peered through the cracks in the tree, they would never have spotted him.
He closed his eyes, leaned against the tree trunk, felt the breeze, and imagined that he was enveloped by the morning sun of Wiltshire, rather than the somewhat glaring afternoon sun of Hogwarts. Just as he was about to be drowsy from the sun and fell into the lazy atmosphere of the afternoon, the girl's soft call broke his imagination.
Who is so annoying? He was a little annoyed and peeked down through the gaps in the trees to see who was disturbing his peace - and found the messy brown hair.
Of course it was her, who else? Who else could disrupt his inner sense of order?
It's always her! Hermione Granger, alone!
He gritted his teeth in anger, thinking about whether he should just taunt her and drive her away. However, when he turned his head, he suddenly found a pair of bright yellow eyes staring at him quietly from the side of the tree trunk. He was so startled that he almost fell from the tree.
It was a hideously ugly cat. Ginger-colored. Its face looked like it had been beaten flat.
It was studying him.
Draco couldn't imagine who would have such unique taste to raise such a thing.
Its head is covered with grass and willow leaves, and its hair is messy and tangled. It doesn't look like a well-behaved cat.
He made a "hush" sound, trying to shoo the ugly cat away, but the breeze brought the girl's voice at this moment: "Crookshanks, Crookshanks?"
The cat lowered its head and looked at her, then buried itself guiltily deeper into the oak leaves.
In a flash, Draco realized: this was Granger's ugly cat.
And—it really fits her image! The girl who annoyed him the most in all of Hogwarts had a cat that he despised the most!
At this moment, she seemed to be crying, and she continued to look for the ugly cat with bright eyes. "Crookshanks, where have you been? Did you eat Scabbers?"
"Scabbers? What are Scabbers?" Draco thought. The name sounded familiar. Was it that stupid rat Weasley had bitten Goyle on the train?
"You ate the mouse? Goyle might thank you." He smiled and looked back at the cat, whispering, "Well done."
What a joyous occasion! No wonder that good-for-nothing Weasley had the nerve to ignore her. It seemed Hermione Granger had a gift for irritating everyone, Draco thought with amusement.
Then he heard the girl crying even louder. She seemed determined to stay under the tree and sat down against the trunk, crying. Draco frowned as she buried her head in her knees, her shoulders heaving.
Draco knew this was his perfect opportunity to express his disdain for her.
If he laughed at her now, her pride would be completely shattered. She would never be able to act so arrogantly in front of him again.
Just one word.
He had to think carefully about which sentence would be more shocking, unforgettable for her, and cause her permanent trauma.
He thought and thought for a long time amidst her sobbing, and his mind was always thinking of the bare moors outside Wiltshire. Then he could not think any further.
He blamed it on being in poor condition today and not being fit to fight.
Perhaps it would be enough to just jump out of the tree and sneer at her for being a "little mudblood," but he didn't think that was very creative.
Perhaps he shouldn't have spoken to her, that was demeaning, he told himself. It wasn't because she was crying, and he was a little panicked.
Finally, Draco couldn't bear to hear her sobbing anymore. He felt like the sound was making him dizzy - or maybe it was from the sun.
He scratched his hair, turned around, and glared at the ugly cat fiercely. "Go down and find her! You've made her cry!" He pointed his wand at it and threatened in a low voice, "If you don't go down, I'll cast a spell!"
The cat glared at him as if offended, raised its fluffy tail, and walked carefully down the tree trunk.
Yes, send her away quickly and give Draco Malfoy some peace and quiet. Let him relax for the whole afternoon.
He watched as the girl was frightened by the ugly cat named Crookshanks.
He thought she would be angry with the cat, but she wasn't. Instead, she burst into laughter.
She wasn't indifferent to it at all. As if it hadn't done anything terribly wrong. As if it hadn't made her a stranger to her friends.
She just complained a few affectionate words to the cat in a gentle tone that he had never heard before.
She tilted her head and coaxed the lucky ugly cat, patiently and carefully removing all the grass and leaves from its head and body, making it lovable again.
Finally, she stood up, holding the somewhat grumpy cat in her thin arms, and slowly walked away towards the castle.
Draco finally got the quiet atmosphere he had longed for.
However, at this moment, the unkind wind made the leaves rustle, and his inner peace seemed to be blown away by the wind.
His eyes were glued to the shrinking figure, and he felt inexplicably irritated.
Past Life Story 6: The Angry Granger
Time: Third Year, around the time Buckbeak was sentenced to death
Location: Professor Trelawney's Divination classroom; outside the castle gates
Professor Trelawney was probably the type of teacher Draco found most difficult to understand.
She was always weird, wearing colorful clothes, like an old witch. Draco always had to make up a lot of accidents and deaths in his homework to get her to give him a satisfactory "O".
She was so boring that she even spent an entire class teaching those crazy girls how to predict who their partner would be by looking at tea leaves in a cup and a crystal ball.
"Watch out for red-haired men," she said to a Gryffindor girl, who immediately adjusted her seat further away from Weasley, who looked deeply distressed.
Draco smirked at the side, agreeing that "staying away from Weasley" was a good idea.
However, this prediction is too subjective. Just treat it as a joke and laugh it off; if it were taken seriously, there would be countless accidents and casualties at Hogwarts every year - the school would have been closed down long ago.
At the end of the class, Draco was slow to clean up because of his injured arm. His followers Crabbe and Goyle didn't come to the class at all - Draco guessed that they must have forgotten about the class again.
By the time he lazily strolled to the front of the classroom and returned the teacup and crystal ball, the classroom was empty except for him and Professor Trelawney.
As luck would have it, Professor Trelawney tilted her head and glanced at his crystal ball.
She suddenly said to him in a mysterious and unusual tone, with her eyes rolled back, in a sharp and piercing voice:
"Your destiny will punch you in the face. You'll lose her until you meet her next time.
"
"Nonsense! What the hell is this?" Draco looked at her as if she were crazy.
"What did you say?" Draco swallowed and asked suspiciously, wanting to confirm whether he was hallucinating.
"Oh, kid, what's wrong?" Professor Trelawney suddenly returned to normal and asked him with a confused look.
Draco glanced at her, said nothing more, shook his head, and left the stuffy, strange-smelling room without saying a word.
I must have just hallucinated. Or maybe Professor Trelawney was trying to be mysterious and intimidating. She must have pulled this stunt because he'd laughed at her in class and she'd caught him laughing.
He must have been bewildered by the strange atmosphere of the room, and for a moment he actually thought that what Professor Trelawney said might be true.
How could it be true? The boys all thought she was a charlatan who was specifically trying to trick gossip-loving girls.
I really don't know why Dumbledore hired such a person as a professor.
How could his "destined person" be a violent maniac who likes to beat people up?
Want to punch him again? Draco smiled viciously. He wanted to see who dared.
Who among all the girls at Hogwarts would dare to hit him? In other words, who among all the girls in the wizarding world would dare to hit him?
The only ones who dared to beat him were short-sighted people like Potter and Weasley, who relied on Dumbledore's favor to do whatever they wanted.
They were not what Draco considered to be his "destined one".
And what does "you will lose her until you meet her again" mean? It's simply unbelievable.
He was extremely disdainful of this and soon forgot about it.
A third-year boy rarely thought about things like "the destined one". Compared to such distant, imaginary and boring things, he would rather stimulate the annoying Potter and Weasley.
After all, they were so mad that they had the audacity to throw mud at him in Hogsmeade. This was a humiliation!
No one dares to do this to him, no one!
Potter and Weasley must pay the price.
Draco used his old trick. He used the Hippogriff incident to provoke them, to see if the two idiots would cry. A while ago, they seemed to have finally come to their senses and knew to look up books in the library. Granger was no longer the only one working hard.
But obviously, their efforts were too late - the stupid bird's death was basically a foregone conclusion.
Unexpectedly, just when he had successfully provoked Potter and Weasley for the thousandth time and was feeling very proud of himself, the most unexpected thing happened.
Hermione Granger, the girl he hadn't messed with for a long time, suddenly jumped out from nowhere, rushed in front of him and punched him.
"Draco Malfoy, you bastard! How dare you? You disgusting little cockroach!" she said angrily, even drawing her wand.
Everyone was stunned. Potter, Weasley, Crabbe, Goyle, all were stunned.
Even Draco himself was stunned.
She actually punched him!
Punched him?
Draco's eyes widened and he took a step back.
The terrible prophecy that had been hidden in his heart for a long time suddenly awakened from his mind.
In an instant, it struck his crown like a bolt of lightning, nailing him firmly to the spot.
Draco suddenly turned into a fragile piece of glass, about to be shattered by the girl's fist.
He suddenly felt incredibly weak. He was completely panicked.
"Let's go," he muttered to Crabbe and Goyle, and quickly left the scene.
Before leaving, he looked at her in shock, at the girl who had dared to punch him, the girl with bright eyes and burning anger.
He thought he might be cursed or something.
"Don't tell anyone." Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle while running, holding his nose. They nodded, as if they had not yet recovered.
"Stop following me and get out!" He said fiercely to the two stupid followers who were blinking their eyes, and rushed into a men's bathroom alone.
Merlin, she beat him till he bled.
Damn Granger! The most damning thing is, how could it be her?
For a moment, facing himself in the mirror, Draco's head buzzed.
He thought he had long forgotten Professor Trelawney's unreliable prophecy.
However, at this moment, her words struck him with such clarity:
"Your destined one will punch you in the face. You will lose her until you meet her again."
Granger. How could that little nerd, know-it-all, little mudblood, the girl he avoided at all costs, the girl who always made him furious, mad, fearful and resentful, be his "destined one"?
Ridiculous. Abominable. Horrible.
Absolutely not. He shouldn't take that kind of sorcerer's words seriously. Professor Trelawney is always a bit of a sorcerer, isn't she?
That's right, Professor Trelawney is unreliable! She once said, "I saw an ominous death in Potter!" But isn't Potter still alive and well?
She is just a boastful charlatan!
That's right! Draco finally prepared himself mentally, opened the door to the men's bathroom, and planned to go back to the dormitory to calm down.
In an instant, he collapsed again - there stood that horrible little Mudblood outside the door.
She glanced at him, and he was sure her eyes caught his robe and shirt, which were stained by his nosebleed.
There was a hint of uneasiness and guilt in her eyes, but more of anger and contempt, "I don't regret beating you. You deserve it, Malfoy. You devil, your father asked them to sentence Buckbeak to death."
"Whatever." Looking into her eyes, he suddenly felt a little afraid.
She must not hit him again. He didn't want to quarrel with her anymore.
He - he was a little confused, even tired.
It was one thing not to believe that foolish prophecy. It was another to see her standing before my eyes in the flesh.
"Granger, you know nothing," he said wearily, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "Leave me alone, please."
She was definitely not his "destined one." There was nothing between them. Trelawney was talking rubbish.
He hesitated for a moment, and instead of pushing her away like before, he cautiously avoided her, not even daring to touch the corner of her clothes.
He passed her and strode towards the passage to the dungeon, thinking:
What do you mean by "you'll lose her until you find her again"? That's bullshit!
Lose her? What kind of talk is that? As if she were his!
Just thinking about the concept made Draco feel a terrible cramp in his stomach.
He-he wanted nothing to do with this nasty little Mudblood!
Lose her? Very well, then lose her. Even though he never had her.
He didn't want her either. Draco gritted his teeth and thought, who wants a little mudblood?
In short, he and she had never been involved in the first place! They were still involved now! And they would never be involved in the future! Draco persuaded himself fiercely, not knowing whether he should breathe a sigh of relief or become even more confused.
Also, what does "meet her again" mean? This prophecy makes no sense at all.
He meets her every day!
Once you put Hermione Granger in your mind, she becomes such an eyesore: on the dining table in the auditorium, in various classrooms, in the corner of the library, in the stands of the Quidditch field, under the trees by the Black Lake, in the greenhouse of the Herbology class... She is everywhere. This broken prophecy is totally illogical!
Draco was terrified for several days, and in the panic of constantly encountering her, he gradually realized that he was still fine. He was not confused by Granger, nor did he feel lost.
He is still himself, the arrogant, proud and unruly him.
Very good! Draco was absolutely certain that Professor Trelawney was lying.
And he just encountered a terrible coincidence, which made him panic for a short time!
Now, he had to put this unreliable prophecy behind him and continue to enjoy his glorious life as the young master of the Malfoy family.
But does this ridiculous prophecy really have no effect on Draco's heart?
He knew there was something wrong with him.
It was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Such an important match, and he almost got the Snitch. He used all kinds of dirty tricks to hinder Potter.
He almost got it.
But at the last moment, he was distracted - he saw her eyes staring at him in the stands.
He knew she wasn't looking at him. She was probably looking at Potter beside him. She only had eyes for Potter and Weasley.
The sad thing was that he knew she wasn't looking at him, but he suddenly couldn't take his eyes off her.
In this crucial moment, Potter knocked his arm away and got the Golden Snitch.
Gryffindor won.
The game was over. Marcus Flint roared in anger, and the Slytherins booed.
The sounds came and went, and seemed unimportant to him.
This was completely irrational. How could he possibly think that his beloved Quidditch wasn't important? He roared inwardly, but couldn't look away.
He wasn't looking at anyone, not at the Snitch, he was still looking into her eyes - eyes that were shining with joy.
A desperate, bright, joyful light.
Past Life Story 7: The Shaking Granger
Time: Third Year, Buckbeak and Sirius escape, after exam week
Location: Oak Tree by Black Lake
Draco Malfoy peered down cautiously through a gap in the trees.
This day was clearly the open day of Hogsmeade Village, a day when all the students in the school would come out; he had not expected that there would be people like him who chose to stay in Hogwarts to enjoy the scenery.
Under the oak tree were the Potter trio, chatting under the tree, while he sat alone in the tree, completely isolated and helpless.
At times like this, he chose to remain quiet.
A Slytherin who can judge the situation will not act rashly when he is at a disadvantage.
Thankfully, Potter was gone soon after, and a moment later, Weasley was gone too.
But Granger, who made him quite afraid, refused to leave.
She seemed to pick something up from the thick grass and let out a soft sigh.
gentle?
That wasn't the right word to describe her. A girl who hit people couldn't be called gentle.
She stood up, holding something in her hands.
Draco peered through the gaps in the trees for a moment, and it seemed—a bird's egg, mint green with a charming blue tint.
He could bet his hair that they were robin eggs, not only because of the unique color, but also because, on a branch not far in front of him, there was a round bird's nest with two or three eggs of the same color inside.
He had seen something like it before, at the age of eleven, before he came to Hogwarts.
He had once seen a small, ball-like bird with a red bib on its chest on a large oak tree. It had several eggs hidden under its body.
Later, those bird eggs must have shattered with the falling trees, right? He thought expressionlessly, closing his eyes.
It was all in vain. Draco pulled himself together, a hint of sneer on his face.
Sometimes, tiny lives are insignificant in the face of absolute power.
How fragile it is! A natural disaster, a man-made disaster, or even a strong wind can blow a lonely hole in the warm nest, blow the egg out, and rewrite its fate.
Survival of the fittest, elimination of the unfit, as always, Draco thought grimly.
So, Granger, holding that pathetic, world-forsaken egg in her hands, a look of cherishment on her face—what on earth was she trying to do?
What was she to do with it, with the egg that had carelessly fallen from the nest, from the high oak branches, onto the grass?
Although it luckily didn't break, it's too late to save it, right?
Lost the love of parents, lacking the warm protection, alone in the world.
It is so fragile and so small that it will break sooner or later.
But Granger, who always wastes time on useless things, doesn't seem to want to give up.
The way she pursed her lips stubbornly and looked up at the treetops made Draco feel a little curious.
To be honest, she wasn't the kind of athletic girl who could climb trees. Athleticism and balance were probably her few weaknesses. Her broomstick also didn't obey her commands.
Draco studied the distressed frown on her face and watched with amusement as she bit her lower lip.
At this time, she took out her wand and cast a "levitation spell" on the bird egg in her palm.
The egg was slowly rising.
Oh, she is indeed a witch. And a clever one at that.
How could he not have thought of the Levitation Charm? It was clearly a subject they had learned in first grade. Draco quietly watched her focused face from the shade of the tree, feeling a little surprised.
It's not entirely Draco's fault that he didn't think of it. This is a task that is impossible to accomplish using the "levitation spell" alone.
Bird eggs have weight, and controlling a bird egg to float upwards is not as easy as controlling a feather; moreover, its shell is very brittle, and when it passes through those dense, thick, and hard oak branches, any slight bump will break the egg.
The most important thing is that this is not a task that can be attempted multiple times. If it breaks, it breaks.
The chances of success are slim and failure is inevitable.
Any sane wizard would choose to abandon such a doomed attempt.
Granger, on the other hand, obviously didn't have much rationality and wasn't willing to give in easily.
She waved her wand stubbornly, her eyes wide open, as stubborn as a young oak tree. Her face was rapidly flushing, and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead due to nervousness.
But she didn't give up. She continued to shake her wand, delicately manipulating the egg, bit by bit, moving it back and forth among the branches. She strained her neck, her mouth slightly open in anxiety, as if she was trying to use her vine wood wand to thread a needle and embroider a flower on this huge oak tree.
Draco stared at her in amazement, his attention completely riveted. For the first time, he felt a genuine admiration for her. Her manipulation of objects was exquisite, so breathtaking it was impossible to look away. He even slowed his breathing, afraid to startle the egg.
He asked himself, he couldn't do it to that extent. He had to admit that this annoying girl was quite clever.
In fact, she was about to succeed, and the bird eggs would soon reach the end of victory.
The only problem was that Granger, who was sitting under the tree, couldn't see the state of the nest. She kept the egg above the nest, but didn't dare to lower it - she didn't know if there were other eggs inside and whether she would break them in the process of lowering them.
She thought about it and seemed to decide to let the egg slide down along the edge of the nest. This was actually a very good idea, and Draco immediately understood her intention. Sliding along the edge would undoubtedly reduce the intensity of the shock caused by the bird's egg directly contacting other eggs.
Draco sighed in his heart, how could she be so smart?
He couldn't help but smile as he continued to watch the bird egg that was about to return home, and suddenly discovered the loophole in Granger's plan.
Clever Granger was about to fail, he thought ruefully. She had chosen the wrong edge. There was a hole at the very bottom of that edge, and Draco suspected that was where the egg had originally fallen.
However, due to the angle of view, Granger could not see the hole.
The egg was slowly falling, and Draco didn't want to care. But he seemed to be temporarily cursed, and he leaned forward involuntarily and caught the egg that slipped out of the hole steadily - before it was too late.
Like catching a teal snitch. Easy as pie.
Of course he could catch it! He was a Seeker, who could be more agile than him? At that moment, Draco couldn't hide his pride and smiled at the bird's egg.
Granger started. She let out a small scream, then raised her voice and said, "Malfoy, what are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" He leaned forward on the tree trunk and gently placed the egg into a safe place in the nest. He raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a somewhat malicious smile. "Of course, it's to scare you, Granger."
She stood under the tree in amazement, like a cat struck by lightning.
The boy carefully climbed down the tree trunk for a distance, and at a slightly lower position, he jumped directly in front of the girl and brushed the dust off his hands.
"What? Are you scared of me? You should let the whole Hogwarts see how stupid you are." He looked at the girl who was unable to react in time, still unable to hide the smile on his lips.
For some reason, saving this ordinary bird egg gave him a strange feeling.
It seemed as if a sense of loss was filled and a sense of anger was relieved.
It seemed that some emotion from long ago, crossing the torrent of time, suddenly hit his heart.
It was a wonderful feeling, and Draco couldn't find words to describe it.
All he knew was that it was getting to him, and he didn't want to be angry with Granger today.
He couldn't even keep a straight face towards her.
The loss in Quidditch, the fatigue of exam week, and the anger caused by the disappearance of the bird of prey all disappeared in that moment.
How strange. Very strange. He smiled and thought.
The girl stared at him blankly, her wand in hand, blinking rapidly. Her other hand was scratching at her palm. Like a cat in a dilemma, she stared at him with piercing eyes, unsure whether to attack or remain calm.
"I know you've been tampering with that Hippogriff." He observed her uncertain expression and said in a long tone, "Don't let me catch you, or my father will catch it again."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy." Her face turned pale. Her hands clenched.
"You know." He looked at her leisurely with a faint smile on his lips.
He had her under control once more. Yes, if the bird of prey wasn't well hidden, it would be caught soon. Don't get complacent, Granger, who's a bit clever.
She looked at him uncertainly, then suddenly raised her head and looked at the bird's nest. She seemed to understand something and looked at him again, looking very surprised.
She cleared her throat, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "I'm glad Buckbeak survived. But that doesn't mean I did anything wrong. I still despise you and your father for your vile and despicable behavior. And I don't think I was wrong to punch you. But today, thank you."
Her conclusion left him a little confused.
What was going on? Wasn't he threatening her? Wasn't she threatening him?
"I didn't know you had any manners, Granger—" He felt she had bad intentions, trying to bring out his weak side. He said cautiously, a little stiffly, "Even though I didn't do anything."
"Malfoy. Whether you admit it or not, you saved the egg." She suddenly put on an obnoxiously smug expression, like Niffler who had found a gold coin in a puddle.
In Draco's slightly widened pale eyes, he noticed that her slightly red lips were slightly raised, and her brown eyes were the color of the oak trunk - although Draco would never admit it - revealing a firm and constant beauty.
As if she saw through him, she said to him softly and cruelly, "You still have some sympathy, even if it's only a teaspoonful. But after all, you are not completely hopeless."
He was silent. He always felt that she was insulting him by saying this, although he had not yet found any solid evidence that she was insulting him.
"Granger, do you believe in fate?" He felt a little choked up. So he looked into her eyes and asked this question out of nowhere. A stupid question.
"What?" She seemed not to have heard clearly, and seemed shocked by his question.
What? A Malfoy can't care about this kind of field? Draco thought unhappily.
"Destiny!" He repeated the word with rare patience, then expanded on it, "It's about prophecy, divination, crystal balls, and so on."
"No, I don't. I believe destiny is in our own hands," she said firmly. "I never believed Professor Trelawney's talk. She's a con man."
Very good. She didn't believe in fate. He didn't believe in fate either. He pursed his lips.
So, he could finally let go of the prophecy completely and thoroughly. To be honest, Professor Trelawney was a joke.
"Exactly. I don't believe it either." He glanced at her lazily. "She's a complete liar."
"I never thought that we could reach a consensus on something." She looked back at him in surprise.
"There's no such thing as 'we'." He said viciously, turning away, the corners of his mouth involuntarily raised slightly.
She didn't see the corner of his mouth. She didn't even look at him anymore. Her eyes returned to the bird's nest in the oak tree, and her tone became cold again. "I know you don't like me, and I don't like you either. But at least, try to be a human being next time. Like today."
After saying these harsh words, she turned around and left.
A breeze suddenly blew, and the oak leaves above his head made a soothing rustling sound. He stared at her back, watching her messy hair swaying in the wind.
Shaking and shaking, as if it could never stop.