Chapter 107: Melancholy on the Returning School Train
"He really likes you! I bet!" Ginny Weasley blushed and swore to the sky in a low voice.
"Ginny, I've told you many times that he is at most my good friend! A good friend from the neighboring college, okay? Besides, he treats me like a sister..." Hermione whispered impatiently, flipping through Miranda Goshawk's "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4" noisily.
Raindrops were pattering against the living room windows of the Burrow. Everyone was busy with their own things.
Harry was happily maintaining his Firebolt, while Ron was polishing his willow wand, the wand care kit Draco had given him for his thirteenth birthday lying open beside him.
Fred and George sat in a corner, quills in hand, heads hunched over a piece of parchment, talking furtively about something. Hermione guessed they were probably mulling over some new product from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
"But he carried you back! You have no idea how scary his expression was - but he was surprisingly gentle! He even helped you take off your shoes, covered you with the quilt, and took care of you very gently. Don't you think it's abnormal?" Ginny looked at her as if she were a fool.
"Uh - your brothers will take care of you, right? Won't they do these things?" Hermione was a little concerned in her heart, but she pretended to be calm on the surface.
"Oh, please! My brothers wouldn't smell my hair like that, or kiss my forehead secretly while I'm sleeping. That's too weird!" Ginny said unconvinced.
"Maybe you saw it wrong? Wasn't he facing away from you?" A blush appeared on Hermione's face, but she still tried to argue.
"Indeed, it was just a silhouette. I didn't see the front clearly..." Ginny was briefly convinced by her, but still a little confused, "But I always feel that things are not that simple. He gets along too closely with you..."
"We are good friends, he is just helping me!" Hermione said seriously.
"I have reservations," Ginny said hesitantly. "People only want to touch someone they like. Otherwise, they will keep their distance from them. I guess someone like Malfoy who is so arrogant is more likely to do so. Think back, when you didn't need help, did he ever touch you or pat you? Did he do anything that was unnecessary for a friend?"
"It's okay, he didn't—"
At this point, Hermione suddenly shut up. She remembered many details.
Sometimes it was a stray lock of hair he'd casually tucked behind her ear. Sometimes it was the hand he'd taken in the darkness, their fingers intertwined. And then there was the leaf he'd spontaneously plucked from her hair after the Dark Mark had appeared and the Ministry of Magic officials had arrived.
These details were so natural, as natural as his breath carelessly falling on her hair when they were making potions together, completely throwing her off guard.
"He's probably used to taking care of people," Hermione whispered. Ginny kept nagging her like this, and she started to miss the smell of cedar.
Ginny tsk-tsk'd in disagreement.
"Is Malfoy the kind of person who is willing to take care of others? Even if I say this, you don't believe it yourself, right? Or are you blinded by the illusion he created?"
Hermione sighed dejectedly and stopped arguing. She looked at the increasingly dense water droplets hitting the window and felt that her inner confusion was no less than the heavy rain.
Hermione Granger's melancholy was not relieved until she saw Draco on the platform.
By then she had put her luggage in Harry's compartment and returned to the platform to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley and thank the generous and welcoming mother for her hospitality during the holiday.
"You're welcome. You're most welcome to come back anytime," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile and gave her a hug.
By the time Hermione was ready to return to the train, Draco had already boarded. He was leisurely leaning on an empty compartment seat, his platinum-colored head resting on his head, staring out the window in a daze.
Suddenly, he saw her. Through the window, he raised the corner of his mouth and gave her a lazy smile. The handsome man's sculptured, indifferent face suddenly came to life. He beckoned her over with a finger.
Hermione's face immediately turned red.
She didn't want to pay any attention to him. She should have followed Harry, Ron and Ginny back to their compartment.
A finger? This frivolous boy! What did he take her for? A puppy or a kitten? She thought unconvincedly.
However, her legs refused to obey her, and she appeared at the door of his cubicle, a scowl on her face.
She was angry at herself. Her actions weren't at all like the independent person she should be. That deceptive face always let her lose some of her rationality, and that wasn't good.
Draco was alone in the compartment.
He sent Goyle and Crabbe to other compartments - leaving them to watch Blaise and Pansy being affectionate - the young couple would definitely be particularly annoyed that their private time was interrupted, Draco thought with schadenfreude.
Hermione sat down opposite him suddenly, determined to straighten herself up and no longer indulge him in doing whatever he wanted to her without any bottom line.
She asked with a straight face, "What do you want from me?"
"Look at what you said. Can't I come to you if there's nothing wrong?" The boy opposite put down the newspaper in his hand and said.
He seemed to be in a good mood. He smiled at her innocently, his gray eyes looking particularly clear.
"If everything is alright, I'll go back to Ginny," Hermione said, her chin tightened. She lowered her head and dared not look at him, afraid that she would not be able to help but ask him whether he had kissed her forehead at that time.
"Wait. I forgot to ask you something when I last saw you at camp," Draco said slowly. "Are you getting used to living at the Weasleys' this summer?"
"The Weasleys are quite interesting." Hermione relaxed a little at this point. "You should have seen Crookshanks chasing gnomes through the rose bushes. Harry laughed his ass off when he saw it!"
"Spit out rice?"
"When the weather is nice, we will have dinner in the yard. The air is always filled with the fragrance of grass and honeysuckle." Hermione said with interest, "After dinner, Mrs. Weasley will give us strawberry ice cream. Ginny always runs to the front and grabs the biggest strawberry ice cream and gives it to me. Her brothers can never compete with her..."
"I still love strawberry ice cream." Draco said with a smile, "When the snack cart comes, I'll buy you a big one, okay?"
"I can buy it myself!" Hermione puffed out her lips.
She wasn't a child anymore! Why did he, who was younger than her, always speak to her in that childish tone?
"Of course you can buy it yourself." Draco made a face at her to show that he meant no harm.
"Where's Mrs. Weasley?" he asked after a pause. "Is she treating you well?"
"She's a nice person, always smiling at us—except when Fred and George get into trouble." Hermione looked at Draco's disbelieving look and said, "Of course she has her strict sides. She doesn't like us using magic to do housework, she prefers to ask us to do it with our bare hands—"
"Even if you perform magic at the Burrow, no one from the Ministry of Magic will come to visit. That's a wizarding family."
"I know. But she is a very disciplined mother, and she raised her children according to the summer vacation principles required by Hogwarts."
"And then they raised non-conformist children like Fred and George."
"Draco! Don't forget that their eldest brother Bill was the student council president back then and earned 12 OWLs!"
"But what kind of host would expect a guest living in their home to do chores like a house-elf?" Draco said. "May I remind you that you are a guest of the Weasleys. This would be very rude in my opinion."
"The Weasley family has so many children that Mrs. Weasley is simply too busy to handle it all. Who wouldn't respect a mother who manages to raise so many children and still manage everything so well?"
"Aren't all her own children enough for her to command?"
"I've been living there for so long and have already caused a lot of trouble for others. What's the big deal if I can do something to help?"
"Is Harry also required to do chores like you?"
"certainly."
Draco curled his lips and said nothing more.
"I don't think Mrs. Weasley is the type to spoil her children, and I'm happy to help her with any small favors," said Hermione. "All in all, I've had a very pleasant and fulfilling time at the Burrow."
"Okay." Draco picked up the newspaper again and said, "As long as you are happy."
Hermione looked at the back of the newspaper in his hand and noticed that the headline on the front page of today's newspaper was "House-Elf with Wand, Barty Crouch Knowingly Breaks the Law?", signed by Rita Skeeter.
Hermione's attention was immediately drawn to her.
"They're so mean to the house-elves..." She couldn't help but straighten the newspaper a few inches with her hand, read the text more carefully, and muttered.
"What's wrong with your hand?" Draco didn't respond, but instead keenly noticed the scratches on the back of her hand.
He couldn't help but notice. Her nimble hands were so white and tender, but now they were covered with several red marks, which frightened him.
In fact, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable in his heart. He always couldn't stand seeing these narrow marks, and couldn't stand seeing them appear anywhere on her body.
"Is this what you mean by 'they took good care of you'?" he said, suppressing his anger.
"Oh, it's Crookshanks." Hermione said embarrassedly, "He was very irritable today. He was scared by the 'Filippo Fireworks' when he got on the bus. And we came here in a Muggle taxi this morning. We couldn't cast the Space Extension Charm. You know, it was very crowded..."
"I thought Mr. Weasley had a car." Draco frowned.
"Yes, but he went to work this morning because of a bit of an emergency. A wizard called Mad-Eye Moody had blown up his garbage can, and supposedly he thought someone was trying to break into his house..."
Hermione suddenly stopped talking. She was surprised to see that Draco had pulled out a small medicine box from somewhere, grabbed her hand, and began to apply medicine to her.
"Go on." He calmly took out the disinfectants and began to fiddle with the bottles and jars, as if he was accustomed to this situation.
"Why would you carry this with you?" Hermione gaped, blushing slightly.
She suddenly forgot what she was going to say next.
"Because a certain clever little witch always gets hurt when she least expects it," Draco drawled.
He lowered his eyes to hide his sadness. He only focused on the long wounds, applying the medicine with a cotton swab, his movements as careful and gentle as a breeze.
Hermione stared at him blankly, her face gradually turning red.
The cotton swab that applied the medicine was incredibly subtle. It tapped lightly against the back of her hand, as if kissing her, or teasing her. Hermione felt a slight itch on the back of her hand, and her heart felt a slight itch as well.
Why was he always so cautious? He cared more about her injuries than she did herself, even making a fuss about them.
At this moment, Ginny's words suddenly rang in her mind: "He gets along too closely with you..."
She didn't know if this could be considered intimacy, she only knew that her heart was pounding like a drum.
That night—the night the Dark Mark appeared—he had held her beneath him, so close they could almost have touched lips.
She remembered him tightening his hand on the back of her head. He'd tilted his face slightly. His breath had gotten closer. For a moment, he seemed to be moving closer to her, closer to her lips.
If no one shouts, what happens next?
She knew she was imagining something impossible again. It was probably just her imagination. No one would want to kiss in such an urgent, chaotic, and dangerous moment.
So, what happened in the tent? Did he kiss her forehead? Should I ask him?
Hold on, Hermione, she told herself.
Her strong self-esteem prevented her from asking again. If this was a misunderstanding, like the last time he said she was like a sister, she would be ashamed to face others.
"What's wrong?" Draco seemed to sense her unhappiness and sensitively raised his eyelids to look at her.
"That day, why did you think I could date Krum?" Hermione suddenly asked. "Afterwards, Harry and Ron heard the reason for our quarrel and laughed their heads off."
"What's so funny?" Draco said with a frown.
"Why would Krum want to date you?" Hermione remembered the boys in the Burrow trying to hold back their laughter and said in Ron's voice, "You two can have a quarrel, but don't drag my innocent idol into this unnecessary battle, okay? It's simply an insult..."
"Did Harry say that too?"
"Harry said you might be going crazy at home," Hermione imitated Harry's sympathetic tone, "Poor Draco!"
Draco snorted unhappily and added, "Didn't you teach Ron a lesson?"
"Ginny already lectured him. She told him he'd never get a Veela date in his life!"
"Then?"
"Then Mrs. Weasley came into the living room and sent us upstairs to bed." Hermione observed his expression and said, "Don't be upset. I said this to tell you that those weird thoughts you had before were completely incomprehensible."
"It's not inexplicable," Draco said sullenly.
"The truth is, no one would want to date me." Hermione stared at him and said something deliberately discouraging.
How would he respond to this, she wondered, would he agree or disagree?
She was trying to figure out what he was thinking.
Was his previous unhappiness an act of jealousy directed specifically at her, or was it, like Ron's, an act of anger caused by his idol being coveted by female fans?
"Anyone who has such an idea is too stupid. Who wouldn't want to date you?" Draco stared at the scratches on the back of her hand with heartache and said bitterly, "You are smart and beautiful. No one in the whole Hogwarts is more clever and dexterous than you-"
"Oh, is that what you think?" she whispered, a little hope rising in her heart.
He hummed softly, looking a little listless.
Hermione wanted to ask something else, but she cringed. Maybe he was just trying to comfort her; after all, he had just wanted to buy her ice cream and treat her like a child.
All in all, she didn't want to be embarrassed by some false delusions anymore.
They managed to maintain a distance that wasn't too awkward.
Let's just be friends, being friends is not bad. She felt his touch with tears in her eyes, her heart filled with melancholy.
She sighed and changed the subject.
"Harry's been a bit stressed lately. His scar, and the dreams he's been having—"
"Oh, I was just about to ask you about this. Can you tell me the specific details? He couldn't mention too much in the letter..." He said this, but his hands didn't stop moving, as meticulous as a painter depicting a masterpiece.
"Of course. Harry also asked me to tell you about this as soon as possible."
So she locked the delusion in her heart aside, tried her best to ignore the fact that he applied medicine to her, ignored the cotton swab that kept kissing the back of her hand, and told Harry about his scars and dreams in detail...
The train has left the station and is heading north.
Dense raindrops hit the glass windows, making it difficult for people to see the scenery outside.
The sky was already pitch black, and lanterns were lit in the car in broad daylight.
Following the lantern light, Hermione returned to the door of her compartment. She took a deep breath and opened the door with a bright look in her eyes. Harry, Ron and Ginny immediately stopped talking and turned to look at her with confusion.
She plopped down next to Ginny and asked cheerfully, "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, we were discussing what Mum and Bill said on the platform, and why he said our year would be very interesting..." Ginny said, and suddenly smelled a faint medicinal scent on Hermione.
"...and whether you were left crying on the platform, or whether you went on a date with Krum, since you've been gone all morning," Ron teased. "Didn't you, Harry?"
"Oh, I'm not worried. If you were missing, someone would have been worried." Harry said with a grin.
"I know why they say this year is so interesting! Draco told me everything," Hermione said proudly, ignoring her friends' teasing and gossiping looks. "This year we're going to have the Triwizard Tournament!"
"What?" Harry asked. "What is that?"
Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, she quickly explained, "The Triwizard Tournament was founded over seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest wizarding schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school selects a champion to compete in three magical disciplines. It's held every five years, with the three schools taking turns hosting."
"Why haven't we heard of this before?" Ron asked in surprise.
"Because the death toll was so high that the Triwizard Tournament was discontinued. Over the centuries, people have tried several times to restore the tournament but none of them worked, until this year. Now it all ties together why Bill said he wanted to go back to Hogwarts this year." Hermione finished, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I'm not sure I could get along with the students at Beauxbatons. I met them in the woods and they were—so arrogant," Ginny said hesitantly.
"I think this will be a great way for young wizards from different countries to build friendships," Hermione reassured her. "Just think how much fun this year will be."
Harry and Ron were already very excited about the news. They began to talk about what the events of the competition would be, the prize money for the competition, and what they could do that was not allowed by school rules.
"Draco Malfoy told you these things?" Ginny asked her in a teasing whisper. "Were you alone together?"
"Oh, Ginny, we were just chatting!" Hermione emphasized.
What she didn't realize was that all her previous melancholy feelings were quietly wiped away by him.
"Of course, of course, you just chatted. The ointment on the back of your hand was definitely not applied by him, right?" Ginny said with a smile.
"Uh—" Hermione looked at her guiltily and closed her mouth.
At this moment, in a cubicle not far away, the male protagonist of the topic they were talking about was hurriedly writing a letter.
"Sirius,
Please stop everything and come back. I think you're probably aware that Harry's scar is hurting again. The timing is too good to be true. And then there's the dream he had. I suspect there's more to it than meets the eye—"
He stopped writing for a moment, looked out the window at the increasingly heavy rain, and recalled Harry's previous life when he participated in the Triwizard Tournament as the "Fourth Warrior".
Harry had insisted throughout that he had not put his name in the Goblet of Fire, and people hadn't believed him at the time—Draco hadn't believed him either—thinking he was using some opportunistic trick to attract attention.
But what if what Harry said was true? After three years of getting along, Draco had a general understanding of what kind of person Harry was. If he had the courage to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, he would never have lacked the courage to admit this.
That meant that, in a previous life, what Harry said was true.
There must be a shocking conspiracy waiting for Harry.
Draco still remembered the moment Harry finally returned to the center of the arena with Cedric Diggory's body.
The scene is still vivid in my mind.
He will never forget what happened that day.
At that time, Harry cried and said that the Goblet of Fire was a portkey, and they were taken to a graveyard and the Dark Lord killed Cedric.
Does the now-weakened Dark Lord still have the energy to wreak havoc? Draco wasn't sure. However, he couldn't let his guard down—the Dark Mark would appear at the World Cup just as it had in his previous life, wouldn't it?
There must still be loyal followers of the Dark Lord at large.
Even if there is a slight possibility, he must try his best to stop it - use all means and mobilize all possible forces.
He picked up his pen again. "...Combined with the Dark Mark appearing at the World Cup and a major event coming up at Hogwarts this year, I believe Harry is in extreme danger. A conspiracy is waiting for him, and he will need his godfather by his side."
He smiled apologetically at the eagle owl beside him and fed her a few grains of high-quality owl food. "June, you have to make this trip. This is very important."
Joan bit his hand lovingly, unafraid of the heavy rain outside the window. She flapped her wings and flew out of the warm and dry compartment of the Hogwarts Express, flew into the continuous rain, and soon disappeared.
In the silent compartment, Draco stared at the rain outside the window, feeling uneasy and falling into deep thought again.
After noon, Harry's compartment was bustling with activity. Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom had come to visit. They were excitedly reminiscing about the World Cup, talking about Quidditch, and fantasizing about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament.
Hermione was growing tired of the subject.
She felt a little regretful. Perhaps she should have stayed in Draco's compartment and talked to him about philosophy or something; or, she should have read the report about house elves and discussed with him the issue of equality for all and the rights of elves.
But now, she had no good reason to go out and look for him. Ginny was always watching her every move, not missing any opportunity to dig deeper into their relationship; she also always assumed that their relationship was more than just friends, forcing her to reveal more details about their time together, which made Hermione feel shy and uncomfortable.
So she pretended to be unconcerned and continued to study a summoning spell in "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4" - she was impressed by the "Surfing Charm" that Draco performed at the end of the previous school year, and planned to understand it as soon as possible.
Her progress wasn't very smooth. The itching from the tiny scratches Crookshanks had left on her was disturbing her mind.
Hermione knew it was just the ointment working its healing effects—not some psychological effect of Draco's touch.
Absolutely not! She persuaded herself, and in her heart she couldn't help but recall the look on his face when he bent down to apply medicine to her.
A strand of platinum-colored hair hung on his forehead because he lowered his head, and his expression was serious and focused.
Finally, he finished applying the medicine, raised his light gray eyes to look at her, and a faint smile of satisfaction flowed in his eyes.
He was smiling at her. Smiling at her without a clue.
Who could resist his smile? Hermione thought absentmindedly.
"You can stay here forever if you want." He stared at her with burning eyes, holding her hand and seducing her.
"Okay..." She almost agreed. Then, she reacted and said hurriedly, "No, I have to go back to see Crookshanks and let him out of the wicker basket. Also, tell them about the Triwizard Tournament -"
She wanted to leave, but he still held her hand tightly.
"Draco, I have to go." She mumbled, her heart beating unsteadily. "My hand..."
He didn't let her go. He looked at her steadily—as if he were looking at some fragile work of art—and whispered, "Be careful. Don't hurt yourself again, okay?"
"Okay..." She blinked and agreed softly.
"Good, good," he murmured, finally releasing her hand.
Amidst the rumbling thunder, the train arrived at the station, and Hermione's memories also came to an end.
The students hurriedly changed into their robes and got off the carriage. In the pouring rain, they lowered their heads and squinted their eyes in embarrassment, climbed onto the horseless carriage, and embarked on this last short journey back to school.