Chapter 110: Moody's ill intentions
"I just ran into Harry and Ron at the library entrance." Draco asked in surprise as he entered the study corner, "Why do they look so pale?"
"Oh, ignore them," Hermione said disapprovingly, flipping through a book called 'Little People, Big Plans'. "They're busy spinning misfortunes and lies like two paranoid psychopaths - it's pure nonsense."
"Persecution mania? Nonsense?" Draco understood. "Divination homework?"
"Exactly. They're desperately trying to make every day of the next month unlucky for themselves, just to please that old liar Professor Trelawney." She smacked her lips in disapproval.
"Oh, she really loves it," Draco said casually, placing several large books on the table, determined to find some information for his thesis on the eighteenth-century goblin rebellion. "If they're so unlucky every day, their grades must be O's."
"How do you know Professor Trelawney's teaching style?" She looked up sharply. "You haven't been to her classes, have you?"
Draco's expression faltered slightly. Sometimes, Hermione Granger's insight was so strong that it made him feel guilty.
"Uh..." He picked up a book at random and flipped through it, mumbling hurriedly, "There are quite a few Slytherins who choose Divination. I've seen them brooding over their thoughts in the common room quite a lot. Yesterday, Blaise and Pansy were making up misfortunes for themselves while cursing Ron, saying that their weekends were completely filled with this homework..."
"Why?" Hermione asked in surprise. "What does Ron have to do with this?"
"They think Professor Trelawney's sudden change of heart, suddenly assigning so much homework like Professor McGonagall, is because Ron was rude to a girl named Brown in class." Draco rolled his eyes. "He said he wanted to see—"
He stopped talking suddenly. Merlin, he shouldn't have brought that up just to change the subject.
Sometimes, adolescent boys speak without thinking and their words are quite shameless.
For example, Ron's dirty words - "Can I take a look at Uranus, too, Lavender?" - even old drivers like Blaise and Pansy, who were shamelessly hanging out with each other every day, commented that it was "too dirty."
(Original words: Can I have a look at Uranus, Lavender? Uranus can be split into a homophone for Your anus)
"Lavender—my roommate? Why did he say something rude to her?" Hermione frowned in confusion. "I haven't heard her complain about Ron recently..."
"You don't want to know," he said quickly. "Please, don't ask about that, okay? I don't want to pollute your ears. In fact, forget we were even talking about this."
"You only make me more curious when you say that." She asked confusedly, studying his slightly flushed face. "What exactly did he say he wanted to see? Tell me!"
"I can't say that word." He coughed and suddenly took out a silver-green box and placed it in front of her, covering the book she was reading and blocking her mouth from asking questions. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Oh, thank you." She was so attracted by the gift that she was busy opening it, forgetting the mysterious interaction between Ron and Lavender.
It was a book called Practical Defensive Magic and Its Countermeasures against the Dark Arts.
"I have to say, I really like receiving books as gifts - you can never have too many good books - but few people would think of giving me books. They always think I have enough books. In my opinion, it's still far from enough. There are still many books I haven't read." Hermione flipped through the book happily. "But, Draco, have you been too deeply influenced by Professor Moody? Are you still afraid of those unforgivable curses? Even your tendency to choose gifts is a bit -"
"It's more of a worry than fear," Draco said seriously. "While I don't agree with his teaching methods, he's right about one thing: always be vigilant."
"That being said, it's a bit exaggerated. I don't believe anyone would cast a curse on me in Diagon Alley." Hermione said half-seriously. She didn't take the boy's concerns seriously, but she couldn't help but open the book and study it.
"But I can't help but worry about you." Draco muttered softly.
Danger never only exists in Diagon Alley.
A deadly danger could pop up anywhere and cause her some harm. Even in Hogwarts, which was known as the "safest", she had been injured many times.
While turning the pages, his eyes slid from the pages to her, and he felt a moment of comfort because she was safe and sound.
Hermione was happily exploring her birthday present. It had to be said that even though this book was the "panic product" of an overly anxious teenager, it was still quite fascinating. Hermione carefully studied the table of contents and found it to be quite practical.
"It's a very good book. This is exactly what you should learn in Defense Against the Dark Arts." She suddenly sighed and said angrily, "Honestly, based on my own knowledge, it would probably be difficult to accurately find a book like this that focuses on practical operations among the vast sea of theoretical defense books. Children from wizarding families are always more targeted in 'finding the right books'."
"But now, you know about this book, don't you?" Draco glanced at her, trying to wipe away the faint dejection on her face with his words. "Who finds it? What matters most is the result. The result is that you will learn every spell in it and cast it better than those children from wizarding families, right?"
"Of course." She looked up at him, her face brightening with encouragement. "I will."
Draco smiled slightly, thinking that she looked pretty confident, and the way she flipped the pages of the book was a bit attractive.
"Oh, by the way, Draco, you have to take a look at the book on the corner of the table. It's the old book I bought from the small town of Eze..." She flipped through her birthday present with great interest, deliberately not looking up, appearing to be unfocused, but a mysterious smile quietly appeared at the corner of her mouth. "Especially the parts I marked with red pen. I think you will be very interested."
Draco took the book and found that a page on it was marked with the symbol "Attention!" in thick red pen.
"An ancient magic of restoring the body... requires extremely harsh conditions... the bones of the father, the flesh of the servants and the blood of the enemy, and most importantly, the soul of the person to be resurrected... This is basically impossible to achieve, because when a person dies, the soul has already gone to the place where life and death meet..." He softly read out the words that Hermione carefully translated beside him.
"This is—" Draco's breath suddenly stopped.
"Yes! I think the You-Know-Who is likely to use this method. He completely meets this demanding condition, doesn't he?" Hermione snapped the book shut in front of her and looked at the boy's surprised expression. She finally couldn't help but reveal her pride. "That's why I had to buy it at the time. I had turned to that page before, but I wasn't sure about the accuracy of the content. After all, the text was in ancient runes. So, after I bought it, I translated it again using the 'Magic Rune Dictionary' and the 'Magic Spelling Table', and finally discovered something incredible!"
"Did I ever tell you that you're smart—" Draco swallowed his surprise and said to her.
"Yes, a million times over." Hermione glanced at him proudly.
Draco couldn't help but laugh.
Unexpectedly, the research on the Dark Lord, which had made no progress, now finally has some ideas.
Thanks to her presence.
Hermione Granger, how many more surprises are you going to give me?
"I think I have to tell Professor Dumbledore right away." Draco's face rarely showed a childish smile. He said to Hermione excitedly, "I'll borrow your book."
"What are you waiting for? Go!" Hermione nodded at him, calmly picked up the book "Practical Defensive Magic and Its Resistance to Dark Magic", and continued to read it with interest.
Draco grabbed the book and ran out of the library like a true 14-year-old boy, running so fast that he almost knocked Professor McGonagall's hat off as he turned the corner.
"Mr. Malfoy!" she asked, startled, supporting several heavy books in her arms. "Where is your usual unhurried manner? What happened?"
"I have to see Professor Dumbledore—" Draco gasped, barely managing to regain some dignity.
"That's impossible. He went to London this morning—" Professor McGonagall looked at him sharply. "Is there anything I can convey?"
"Oh, I see." Draco calmed himself down. "It's nothing serious. I can send an owl to write him a letter."
"Well," Professor McGonagall said, eyeing him suspiciously, "mind your manners and stop wandering around the corridors—if you don't want me to take points off you—Mr. Malfoy."
Draco bowed to her and walked away maintaining his composure.
What is Dumbledore busy with?
Obviously, something important happened in London, which attracted the attention of this mysterious wizard.
Draco suppressed his excitement, carefully put the book back into his storage bag, and slowly walked down the stairs.
Should I send him a message via my owl, subtly mentioning this new development? No, my owl would be too conspicuous, and someone might see it. That's not entirely safe, he thought silently.
As he passed the second floor, he stumbled upon Mad-Eye Moody, limping towards the dungeon classroom, his claw-like wooden leg making no unusual sound.
Draco smelled a hint of guilty conscience.
He knew he should stay away from Moody.
A Slytherin didn't want to take any risks, especially the risk of being turned into a ferret.
But Draco still kept up with Moody from a distance. He had lost many opportunities because he "didn't want to meddle in other people's business" - such as letting Peter Pettigrew hide in the Shrieking Shack - which forced him to learn to violate Slytherin's rules a little and borrow a little of Hermione Granger's curiosity and desire to explore when he smelled something suspicious.
Draco carefully kept a safe distance from him, neither being discovered by him nor losing him.
He wanted to see what Moody was up to.
It was well known that Moody's office was far from the basement classroom. He was so uncharacteristically furtive, going to a place where he couldn't possibly be, so there had to be something fishy going on.
Sure enough, Moody looked around for a long time and quietly walked into Professor Snape's office.
Draco knew that Professor Snape was not in his office at the moment. On his way to the headmaster's office, Draco had passed by Professor Snape - he was carrying some bottles and jars in the direction of the school hospital, apparently to give Madam Pomfrey some healing potions he had brewed.
Since he was not there, what was Professor Moody doing by barging into his office?
Draco was extremely puzzled and hid behind an ugly stone statue to observe. After a while, Moody sneaked out again and drank something from the small bottle he carried with him. Then, the magic eye seemed to move around towards the stone statue.
He quickly crouched down, trying to hide himself. He didn't want to face Mad-Eye Moody, the terrifying and ruthless man, head-on alone. He wasn't the kind of professor who played by the rules, and he wouldn't accept any specious arguments.
Draco had made this very clear in his previous life.
Whether it was the swiftness and ferocity of his attacks or his natural talent in casting spells, Moody absolutely crushed him one-sidedly - he had no chance of winning at all.
Fortunately, Moody didn't seem to notice him. Or maybe he just didn't bother to argue with students.
Draco listened attentively to the slight sound of the wooden prosthetic leg moving, and only when the figure gradually walked away did he realize that he was sweating coldly.
"Are you sure?" Professor Snape frowned, with a scrutinizing look in his dark eyes.
"Yes, I saw him walk into this office with my own eyes and stay there for about five minutes." Draco's expression was extremely serious.
Of course, the Slytherin Snake King would choose to believe his beloved disciple's words. Draco had no reason to lie to him about such a thing - making up such a lie would do him no good, on the contrary, it might get him into trouble.
Professor Snape looked around at everything on his desk—the bottles, the books, the parchment, everything arranged in a certain order—and after a moment he said slowly and doubtfully, "The thing is, there are no signs of a break-in. The desk has been left untouched. The locks on the drawers are intact. There's something odd about this—"
Draco faced the desk, silent.
They were standing in Professor Snape's office, a dimly lit room filled with shelves. In addition to the large desk, there were hundreds of old bottles and jars on the shelves, filled with various potion ingredients.
This is a paradise for potion lovers - you can find almost any material needed to make potions here, especially rare materials such as skin, armor, horns, and hair from magical creatures.
"Anyway, thank you for your reminder, Draco. I'll talk to him." Professor Snape frowned and said to his beloved student, "I heard about what he did in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You handled it very well. Dumbledore thinks highly of him, and we can't challenge him openly. In this situation, tolerance is a good quality. After all, not every professor can appreciate Slytherin's excellence."
Draco nodded, saluted, and walked out of the office.
He didn't want Moody's admiration; he wanted to be ignored by the powerful former Auror.
It is best to keep to your own business and spend this year in peace.
However, things went against his wishes. In the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Draco once again witnessed Moody's strength.
No one would have guessed that he would suddenly announce excitedly when he was in the middle of teaching the lesson, "Now, I'm going to cast the Imperius Curse on each student in turn. I'll let you feel the power of this spell and see if you can resist its effects with your willpower."
"But - but you said it was illegal, Professor," Hermione, who was sitting next to Draco, disagreed. She glanced at Draco secretly, a look of worry on her face, and said to Moody uncertainly, "You said - using it on others is -"
"Dumbledore said he wanted to give you a taste of it," Moody swirled his sinister eyes around Hermione and smiled threateningly. "If you're willing to learn in a more cruel way, waiting for someone to cast the spell on you so you can be completely controlled, then great. I agree. You can go."
Hermione blushed and stared blankly at Moody's finger pointing towards the door.
At one point, she wanted to stand up and leave, and even pull the boy next to her to go with her - she didn't want his face to show the expression he had when he lay by the Black Lake that day - that extremely sad expression.
But Draco didn't move. He didn't look like he wanted to leave the class.
He continued to sit beside her calmly, and under the desk, he secretly held her hand and patted her. His hand was warm and soft, gently covering her, covering up her worries and uneasiness, as if telling her that everything was fine, everything was fine.
In the end, Hermione didn't leave, nor did she refute Professor Moody. She remained silent and shook the boy's hand.
"Anyone else object?" Professor Moody asked the whole class in a gruff voice, looking at them one by one, without even looking at her.
The classroom was silent.
Hermione Granger, who has never been afraid of questioning the professor, has failed. Who else dares to face the challenge?
So, Professor Moody rolled his magic eye triumphantly, waved his wand, moved all the desks aside, and began to call on the students in line to come forward one by one and cast the Imperius Curse on them.
This was a blatant exhibition of Moody's bad taste.
A dark-haired, dark-skinned Gryffindor boy jumped around the classroom three times, singing the national anthem, causing everyone to burst into laughter.
"Who's that?" Draco turned his head and asked Hermione, hoping to divert her attention and prevent her from puffing up her face in anger because of Moody's provocation.
"Oh, that's Dean Thomas, one of Harry's roommates," she said to Draco, perking up.
Another girl imitated a squirrel vividly, and Ron, who was standing next to her, watched with interest and laughed loudly.
Hermione whispered to Draco, "That's my roommate, Lavender Brown, who was asked by Ron—" She suddenly blushed and didn't continue.
Draco glanced at her silently, guessing she'd finally asked about Divination class. He coughed awkwardly and said nothing more, instead continuing to watch the next victim—Neville Longbottom—who was performing a series of extremely difficult gymnastic moves with astonishing flexibility.
"Oh, he's—" Hermione faltered.
"I know who this is, no need to introduce him." Draco said quickly to Hermione.
Hermione shrugged. "Of course, you taught him the Patronus Charm last term."
"It's a pity that it didn't work," he said.
"I don't think this is your problem." Hermione's mood had improved a lot. She asked curiously, "By the way, did you appear your Patronus?"
"No." He set his jaw.
"Don't worry," Hermione said in a lighthearted tone. "I can protect you until you cast your Patronus. If any Dementors appear, stay behind me."
Hermione was still resentful about the Dementor incident in the train compartment last year. It was shameful that she had done nothing when he had defended her against the Dementors, when he had been struggling to fight them. If she had the chance, she would have protected him.
"Oh, thank you." Draco murmured. He suddenly felt that the fact that he couldn't create a Patronus wasn't so bad after all.
Now it was Harry's turn to step forward.
He was the only one who could resist Moody's spell. Instead of jumping onto the table as Moody instructed, he knocked it over. This "remarkable achievement" earned Moody's praise and allowed him to try three more times - obviously, Harry did not enjoy this "reward".
If Harry, "Dumbledore's favorite", couldn't get mercy from Moody, then there was no hope for a Death Eater's son like himself.
Draco knew that Moody had ill intentions towards him. The only thing he could do was to pretend to leisurely move back while Moody was concentrating on torturing Harry, until he moved to the back of the group and reduced his presence.
He hoped that Moody would become so engrossed in this "little game" of torturing every student equally that he would forget that he was the target.
Time flew by as Moody tormented Harry. The bell could ring at any moment, ending this ridiculous class. There were still many Slytherins in line ahead of him, so it might not even be his turn. He didn't want to lose face.
Draco lazily pulled his pocket watch from his inner pocket and checked the position of the minute hand, wondering how long it would take for him to be freed.
Perhaps the movement he made when checking his watch was too large, attracting the attention of the evil eye. Then, a nightmarish voice called his name.
"Draco Malfoy, come forward," said Professor Moody gruffly, his magical eyes fixed on him with the unblinking excitement of a dog that has caught a rat.
Draco's body tensed up instantly. He sensed the malice in the small eye next to the demonic eye.
There is still a quarter of an hour before get out of class ends, there is no time to delay, he told himself.
Hermione was watching him. She was chatting with her roommate, who had just finished learning about squirrels, a hint of a smile still lingering on her lips. Suddenly, her bright eyes turned to him, a mixture of curiosity, bewilderment, and a hint of hidden worry.
He smiled stiffly at her, knowing that he couldn't hold that hand at this moment.
The Slytherin students made way for him, and he walked slowly through the queues of students and stood in the middle of the classroom, trying to remain calm and face Moody's sudden attack.
The little malicious eye narrowed, and the wand turned towards Draco. He was quite sure Moody was about to cast the spell.
"Soul—"
"Expelliarmus!" He reacted instinctively, disarming Moody. His Defelection Charm was so powerful that Moody's wand was flung to the ground, and Moody himself was knocked off balance and slammed into a table.
The whole class turned to watch Moody struggling with his wooden leg, trying to find his footing.
He heard several students gasp, and several others murmured, "He actually disarmed Mad-Eye Moody..."
"Malfoy! Ten points from Slytherin!" Moody's face was filled with rage as he took the wand that Longbottom tremblingly handed over. "Disarming spell, do you think this is a dueling club? Do you think someone would tell you in advance when they cast the Imperius Curse on you? You completely ignored what I said about 'resisting with willpower'! Put your wand away!"
Draco remained silent and put away his wand as he was told.
From what he saw, Moody was probably going to fight him to the death today.
Draco's Occlumency wouldn't necessarily work against Moody's Imperius Curse. While it's often said that the methods for resisting Legilimency and the Imperius Curse are similar, even subtle differences in concepts and knowledge can lead to different outcomes.
In his previous life, Draco had mastered Occlumency, emptying his mind of thoughts and emotions, burying them in the hollow of his head. He hid everything he held dear, leaving any Legilimency expert to wander in vain.
However, he was not good at resisting spells like the Imperius Curse that eroded the mind and willpower - he had never had the opportunity to practice that part.
This means that although the master of this kind of spell cannot see through his thoughts or dig out the things in the empty space of his mind, he can create some illusions or instructions out of thin air in that empty space and make him believe or obey.
"Look up and look at me!" Moody pointed his wand at him coldly and cast the Imperius Curse: "Imperio!"
Draco was familiar with the Imperius Curse. He had used it on Madam Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks. It was the only Unforgivable Curse he could cast.
Of course he understood what was going on. This was a spell that seemed to have the least lethality, but was actually the most dangerous. Any spell that could influence the mind was extremely dangerous.
His soul left his body, and he felt a wonderful feeling of lightness and a hazy joy that covered his fear and anxiety at the moment.
He stood in the middle of the classroom carefree, like a balloon with an empty head, feeling that everyone was staring at him, especially the girl.
He heard Moody's voice coming from a distant corner. The voice was not so scary, and even seemed a little friendly.
The voice kindly coaxed him through his empty head: Put your head in the water tank... Put your head in the water tank... If you put it in, everyone will admire you... You will be popular... You need to put it in...
If the battle had been one of defensiveness, Draco Malfoy in this life probably wouldn't have lost so miserably; however, resisting the Imperius Curse was a test of willpower, and he had never passed it.
He obediently walked through the dazzling array of various spyglasses and came to the large water tank in front of the classroom. It was originally used by Lupin to store the grindylows last semester, but now it was empty of clear water.
He put his head in upside down, and the water gradually covered his hair, eyes, nose and chin.
Why? I want to stick my head in...
He was deeply puzzled, but he couldn't object. The voice imperiously told him to continue. At one point, he was surprised to find himself blinking in the tank, his eyes dry. But he couldn't refuse.
He seemed to be growing inside the tank. Through it, he could see figures. A brown shadow swayed through the glass. The sound of a fierce, rapid argument seemed to pass through the tank, muffled and reaching his waterlogged ears.
She seems very angry. Why? Why is she angry?
He stayed in the tank for what felt like a whole year, puzzled over the problem. He pondered it for so long that his nasal cavity filled with water, more and more water, and the water seeped into his lungs without stopping.
The pain of choking on water wrinkled his soul. His consciousness was gradually becoming blurred...
But he couldn't raise his head... He couldn't come out...
Why...
"No!" the girl screamed, suddenly grabbed the back of his collar, and pulled him out of the terrifying world of deep water...
It was Hermione Granger.
——Of course it's her, who else could it be? Draco thought with a smile, and a stream of water flowed out of his nose.
More people seemed to appear, dragging him away from the tank - it seemed to be Harry and Ron - and he could hear their panicked calls...
The calling voice came and went, like a dream. He smiled and fell into unconsciousness...
This was the first time Hermione Granger had been so angry at a professor.
Merlin! She'd faced Professor Lupin, the werewolf, and petrified Professor Quirrell, possessed by the Dark Lord! She'd even endured three years of Professor Snape's venomous attacks!
But no one can be as evil as Professor Moody.
Who would use the Imperius Curse to drown a student?
This isn't teaching! This is punishment, this is brutality, this is targeting, Hermione thought angrily.
She had long suspected that Professor Moody was targeting Draco - for some reason she could not understand.
Maybe it's like they say, because the former Auror hates the Death Eaters, he hates everyone in the house?
Like Barty Crouch, he was prejudiced against Draco, the son of a former Death Eater, from the outset.
But Moody is a professor!
Professors certainly have their likes and dislikes, just like Professor Snape hates Gryffindor, but everything has its limits.
Compared to Professor Moody, who has no sense of proportion, Professor Snape's personality of deducting points without any reason actually seems a bit adorable! At least he has never physically harmed students and even protects students from werewolves! Hermione thought angrily.
She could never forget that scene. She watched the platinum-haired boy walk to the center of the classroom with an expressionless face and graceful but slow steps. She noticed that his hands were clenched into fists, hidden behind his robes.
He must be very nervous.
Hermione had already felt relieved. Although Professor Moody had cast the Imperius Curse on the students, he had not ordered them to do anything too extreme.
It was just singing the national anthem, learning to be a squirrel, and doing some gymnastics. Although Hermione could not morally accept the act of casting a spell that deprived others of their consciousness, after all, he did not actually harm the students, nor did he make them do something unacceptable.
Most of the students seemed happy, and it was a rare opportunity to witness someone embarrass themselves in class, or even to participate in it and become the center of attention.
Some students even praised Moody's bad taste. Even Lavender herself was delighted and thought that "imitation of a squirrel is quite interesting." She didn't seem frustrated at all, but instead asked Hermione with interest: "Do they think I'm cute? Who was laughing just now?"
So, Hermione was a little curious. If Professor Moody could tone down his madness a little, she would like to see the good show - to see Draco's good show.
It would be fun to see someone like Draco, who was so obsessed with maintaining his personal image and doing everything with elegance, lose control and do something stupid - just like she wanted to see what he would do in front of the Veela.
Maybe he would do some lively tap dancing, or sing a song in the classroom seriously... She seemed to have never seen him dance or heard him sing before. She looked at him with anticipation, determined not to miss any embarrassing moment of his and ready to tease him about it for the rest of his life.
Then, things took a turn for the worse. Who would believe that Moody wasn't targeting him?
Like a man seeking death, he dived into the water tank, his slender, bony hands tightly gripping the edge of the tank... and resolutely drowned himself in.
Through the clear water in the tank, she could see his face. His expression was the same as that day by the Black Lake... calm and desperate... motionless, accepting his cruel fate... as heartbreaking as a beautiful boy accepting his fate of drowning.
She hated that look.
She hated the faint smile that appeared on Moody's mutilated face even more...
Draco had been in the tank for far too long, and it was deathly silent.
The students around began to murmur, but no one tried to stop them. They all thought this was a test of the Imperius Curse...
They were probably hoping that Draco would be able to pull his head out of the tank any second...
Hermione suddenly felt a little angry.
"Stop! Professor Moody, stop!" Hermione suddenly took a few steps forward and said to Professor Moody with a broken smile on his face.
"If anyone shows no respect for a professor and interrupts the class again, they will be punished," Professor Moody said disdainfully, glancing at her nonchalantly. "This is part of teaching, and no one is exempt."
"Don't you see he's drowning?" Hermione reminded him anxiously. She saw some abnormal bubbles flowing between Draco's mouth and nose.
"Then he should have tried to resist the Imperius Curse instead of being a coward and making excuses afterwards... just like his father, right?" Moody said with a hint of gloating in his tone.
"Even if it's just teaching, it's enough! Please stop!" She begged, with great anxiety and anger in her heart.
Moody ignored her.
"Ten points from Gryffindor. Say another word and you're out," he said grimly, his gaze fixed intently on the drowning boy.
For a moment, Hermione had a strange feeling: he had no sympathy for Draco.
There is not a trace of love and compassion for students that a professor should have.
"No!" Hermione screamed. She rushed forward, grabbed Draco by the back of his collar, and pulled him out of the tank...
Draco… he was drowning, he was slipping into unconsciousness.
But he was still trying to get into the water tank... This seemingly frail boy was actually very strong... She couldn't control him at all.
All the students were stunned, shocked by the quarrel between Hermione and Moody.
They stood there in a daze, not understanding what was happening.
Only Harry and Ron reacted quickly. They rushed over, pried Draco's hands away from the edge of the tank, pulled him to the side, and eagerly helped him untie his tightly tied collar. They tilted his head to the side, hoping that he would spit out the water...
Later, Zabini and Parkinson rushed over, then Crabbe and Goyle... and more Slytherin students gathered around.
Hermione was pushed to the periphery of the Slytherin students.
Apart from pulling him out of the water, she didn't know what else she could do to save him.
She was completely and utterly stunned by the thought that he might die.
Through the gaps in the crowd, she saw him lying pale and powerless on the ground, his platinum hair wet and stuck to his face. He looked like the dying unicorn she had seen in the Forbidden Forest, elegant and beautiful, innocent and pure, yet miserable and broken.
When he was struggling, she had touched his hand, which was so cold, no longer as warm and gentle as before.
Those hands, the hands that once held hers on the Hogwarts stairs at midnight. He once held her hands and said to her, "I want to be good to you. I - want to hold your hand."
The boy said that he hated danger, but he stubbornly protected her in danger countless times.
But she couldn't protect him.
But a quarter of an hour ago, she had vowed to protect him.
Yet, she watched him die quietly without even a struggle.
She hated herself for hesitating for a second or two, wondering whether to step forward and stop him because "Moody is a professor."
Through her tearful eyes, she wanted to scream, but found that she had lost her voice.
She could do nothing but let the anger burn her heart.
Through the crowd, Hermione saw Harry and Ron frantically kneeling beside him, trying to save his life, while others interrupted, offering incoherent first aid advice.
Finally, a tall, thin, dark-haired Slytherin boy, whom Hermione remembered as Theodore Nott, a very shy boy—he was good at Potions—who sometimes partnered with Draco, pushed aside the panicked crowd.
Theodore struggled to push away the disruptive students, no longer as polite and reserved as before.
He yelled, "Shut up! Get away! I need some air!"
The Slytherins nearby were stunned, then obeyed his instructions.
He began to press on Draco's lungs...
Hermione remembered that this seemed to be the Heimlich maneuver in the Muggle world... So, wizards can use it too?
After a long time, the boy who choked on the water woke up. He began to cough violently and finally spit out all the water.
It was then that Hermione realized her face was covered in tears. She looked at Draco, who was frowning and panting, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in her heart, as if a hammer was hitting her heart again and again.
The thought that he might die from this took her breath away.
Her lips trembled, and she turned her head away, silently condemning Professor Moody with angry eyes, who seemed to be indifferent. He could still be so leisurely, taking a sip from his damn curved bottle, as if it was the most important thing in the world.
It was as if Draco's life was like an ant, not worth mentioning.
Damn Professor Moody! He doesn't deserve to be a professor!
She had to do something.
Anything.