Chapter 111: Slytherin Thinking
Professor Moody's feat finally alerted the Vice-Principal, Professor Minerva McGonagall.
"Alastor Moody!" Draco could hear Professor McGonagall roaring through the heavy wooden door of the classroom. "Putting the Imperius Curse on students! We never teach like that! Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you the rules?"
"He may have mentioned it," came Moody's nonchalant voice. "But I think the students need to understand for themselves the horror of these spells. If necessary, I will let them experience more spells -"
All the students in the classroom heard it clearly.
At this moment, no one found his teaching interesting anymore.
"More curses, the other two Unforgivable Curses?" Longbottom whispered to Harry, trembling.
"Have you considered the consequences of doing this?" Professor McGonagall was furious outside the door. "Parents will send owls like crazy demanding your dismissal!"
"I didn't plan to stay long! I came here purely to do Dumbledore a small favor, and I'll leave after a year! Let the Malfoy brat go around complaining, I can't wait to catch up with his father and his headmaster Snape!" Professor Moody said this to Professor McGonagall nonchalantly, limped on his wooden leg, and quickly left the classroom.
Although Draco claimed that he was fine, Professor McGonagall took him to the school hospital under the uneasy gaze of everyone. Under the coercion of Madam Pomfrey, he drank a large cup of Professor Snape's special potion with a strange taste and was ordered to "rest in bed" for a whole day.
There was a constant stream of people coming to the school hospital to see him, which made the idea of "resting" a joke.
Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, their Quidditch teammates... half of the Slytherin students were there. They all agreed that Draco should write to his father immediately and tell Lucius what had happened.
"He's too dangerous, a threat to all Slytherin students..." Pansy narrowed her eyes and concluded, "We must nip the danger in the bud."
This was a very Slytherin-like statement, which received widespread nods and agreement from the Slytherins.
Draco, dressed in his hospital gown, remained silent.
He didn't say anything until Madam Pomfrey put her hands on her hips and started to shoo people away.
"What do you think?" Draco asked Theodore Nott, who came to see him alone a short while later.
"It's easy to replace a crazy professor; it's difficult to replace him with a less crazy one. And now, you have the handle on him, it depends on how you use it." Theodore said calmly.
Draco curled his lips, still as rational, indifferent and ruthless as before, even more like a Slytherin.
But after all, this childhood friend who usually stayed out of trouble did not stand idly by and saved him.
"I haven't thanked you yet. You saved my life." Draco's pale face flushed slightly - he was not the kind of person who was good at saying thank you, especially, he was not good at thanking Slytherins.
Saying thank you—that's not the normal way Slytherins get along.
"It's all right," Theodore said awkwardly, looking away. "I know what a Thestral looks like—I don't need to see death again."
Theodore's mother died early, leaving him and his father, old Nott, to depend on each other.
He had known Theodore since Draco's childhood. He was intelligent and one of the rare people who could converse with Draco on equal terms; but at the same time, he was quite withdrawn and had never formally joined Draco's group, instead drifting between the boundaries of "former childhood friend" and "current friend."
Old Nott was a Death Eater, even older than Lucius - he was one of the first Death Eaters to follow Voldemort. Like Lucius, he was a staunch pure-blood supremacist, and his family belonged to the same Sacred Twenty-Eight, which might be the reason why the two families kept in touch.
Once the battle between the Black and White camps began, it was obvious which side Theodore would stand on. However, in his previous life, Draco had never seen him fanatically against the Dark Lord, nor had he ever heard him want to become a Death Eater.
In his previous life, he had even suggested that Draco stay out of it and let his parents deal with it themselves.
"We shouldn't get involved," Theodore said coldly. "A family shouldn't have all its members be Death Eaters. It's too risky."
"You coward!" Draco curled his lips, feeling that his attitude was a bit negative. "It's an honor to be looked up to! You've never thought about making your father think highly of you, have you?"
"Don't you have anything else in your mind except your father's ridiculous approval?" Theodore glanced at him indifferently, as if he were looking at a fool.
So Draco left angrily, still unable to understand what Theodore meant.
Looking back now, perhaps this taciturn boy - this childhood friend who seemed distant but was willing to lend him a helping hand at the critical moment - saw it better than anyone else.
Draco suddenly came out of his memories and looked at the awkward boy in front of him. Draco no longer paid attention to his cold face, but saw the wet stains on the hem of his robe, which were stained when he rescued Draco.
"Anyway, I will consider your suggestion. Thank you, Theodore. I owe you a favor." Draco said softly. Then, the thin boy took his beloved potion book and left quietly, as if he had never been there.
Draco lay in bed with his eyes closed, thinking about what to do next, but he couldn't help feeling a little irritated. His savior was not just Theodore.
What about the rest of them? Where are they and what are they doing? He wondered anxiously.
It wasn't until before astronomy class that Harry, Ron and Hermione came to see him briefly.
"We each got twenty points docked and were made to feed Hagrid's skrewts," Ron said sadly, holding up his sore, blistered fingers for Draco to see. "Professor Moody said we shouldn't have disobeyed his orders, interrupted class, and caused a disturbance."
"I'm sorry about that," Draco said weakly. He found that he was becoming more and more proficient in expressing apologies.
"It's not your fault," said Harry. "I always thought he was a bit mad. A very capable Auror, all right, but a bit mad. He told Professor McGonagall he had no idea you couldn't swim, and he thought it was a harmless joke."
"He's just a bigot, no wonder they want to kick him out of the Ministry of Magic..." Ron muttered softly, with a hint of indignation on his face.
Hermione remained silent. She looked at Draco with worried, red eyes and made short, small noises, as if she was about to burst into tears.
"I'm fine, aren't I? All thanks to you all for saving my life. Thank you very much." Draco said lazily, with a nonchalant look, "I'm completely fine, with almost no injuries... I just wanted to take the opportunity to skip two classes and rest."
Harry and Ron looked at him gloomily.
"But I may never want to learn to swim in my lifetime - thank Merlin, Quidditch is not played in the Black Lake." He scratched his nose and tried to make a joke, and Harry and Ron finally smiled faintly.
Hermione didn't smile. She still looked like she was about to cry, and she looked at him listlessly.
"Come on, Hermione, go to class. Try to help me take some notes in astronomy class, okay?" Draco said to her gently in a slow voice.
She sniffled and nodded.
The next day, before Draco was discharged, Professor McGonagall came to see him again.
"I'm very sorry about this. I don't expect you to forgive Professor Moody. He has gone too far." Professor McGonagall said with a stern face as she stood in front of the bed. She tried hard to release a gentle smile on her face, but failed.
Draco sat on the hospital bed and looked at Professor McGonagall quietly. He roughly understood what she was thinking, and knew that her current actions were not entirely out of concern for him.
He was the son of a trustee, yet he was treated so badly by a professor that a dispute between the trustees and the professors was imminent. The trustees already had some dissatisfaction with Moody, believing him to be too self-centered; if he, the victim, made the matter worse, the consequences would be disastrous.
This is even worse than "turning students into ferrets" in the previous life. It is a vicious incident that could result in death.
On the one hand, as the vice-president, she certainly did not want to escalate the impact of the matter when Professor Dumbledore was not in school.
On the other hand, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts—who changes more frequently than the toilet paper roll in the bathroom—is like some cursed consumable. Suitable professors for the position are incredibly hard to find, and none are currently available.
"Professor McGonagall, I understand what you mean. I won't tell my father specifically, but I personally sincerely hope that he will stop targeting me in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It would be best if we could live in peace." Draco looked at Professor McGonagall without blinking, and quickly worked out the best solution in his mind.
"As you wish." Professor McGonagall finally smiled, and Draco tentatively called the emotion in that smile gratitude.
Draco was quite satisfied with the result - he had achieved partial relief through a roundabout means.
Theodore's suggestion was right. Draco now had enough leverage to fire Professor Moody. Under Professor McGonagall's strict control, Professor Moody could no longer target him, at least not openly.
Admittedly, Draco occasionally felt Moody's sinister gaze linger on his face. But he never questioned Draco again, or tried any spells on him. He chose to ignore Draco completely, as if the student didn't exist - Draco's homework that was turned in on time often received no marks.
"How could he do this?" It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. Hermione sat at the table in the study corner, shaking her ungraded parchment and making an offended sound. "Your homework was flawless! You deserve an 'O' more than me!"
"Honestly, I don't care." Draco said coldly, "Now you know the advantages of Professor Snape, right? At least he can mark the homework for all students, right?"
"There's no comparison! Draco, our expectations of professors should never be compared to see who's worse, but we should hope they're better, right?" Hermione said wistfully. "To be honest, I kind of miss Professor Lupin."
"Miss this?" Draco glanced at her, grinned, and imitated a wolf howl.
"Shut up! Draco, this isn't funny! We almost died! You know what I mean!" Hermione rolled up his parchment, gave him a threatening look, and was about to hit him on the shoulder.
"Well, I didn't hit you!" He dodged nimbly, and in a flash he stood across the table, raising his eyebrows at her triumphantly.
"If you have the guts, don't come over here again!" Her attack missed, and she glared at him angrily, clapping the parchment roll in her hands again and again, upset that she hadn't succeeded in striking him. "Draco, sometimes your weird sense of humor is really disappointing!"
"Okay, I won't joke around anymore. But I've discovered that you're truly courageous, Hermione Granger." He laid on the table opposite her, one hand supporting his chin, and studied her face, which had flushed slightly with anger, with a smile on his face. "After that night, don't you understand the seriousness of the problem? Don't you hate him, blame him, or fear him at all? You almost died! Do you still think that was just a 'little hairy problem'?"
"Oh, Draco, of course I was scared, terribly scared." Hearing this, she put down the parchment - looked at the beautiful handwriting on it - smoothed it out lovingly, and then said seriously, "But have you ever thought about who was the most scared that night? Was it really us?"
"What do you mean?" Draco asked confused.
"What I mean is, if there was anyone more frightened than you and me that night, it must have been Professor Lupin himself." Hermione sighed, her sincere eyes looking at the boy across from her who was staring at her intently. "He must have been very afraid of hurting us. He's so gentle and kind on a normal day, but when he wakes up and sees what he's done, he'll definitely be very sad and scared. That's why he took the initiative to resign. Because he fears casualties more than anyone else, and he cherishes the lives and health of others more than anyone else. So, although I'm afraid of him, I don't blame him."
Draco was speechless.
It had never occurred to him that Lupin had any right to be afraid.
It had never occurred to him to see the situation from Lupin's perspective.
It had never occurred to him that any victim could be so noble as to try to understand a potential perpetrator.
"Are you so understanding towards everyone?" Draco shook his head, wanting to refute her. "There are bad people in this world. Even if they have no choice, they will bring misfortune. Can you understand this?"
"Of course I know! But I don't want to understand anyone from a negative perspective first. I prefer to understand him from a good perspective first. What's wrong with that?" She smiled, her eyes as bright as stars in the dark night. "On the contrary, I admire him very much. He has the ability to hurt others, but he doesn't want to hurt others. He even voluntarily gave up his teaching position. I think he is a good person, worthy of everyone's respect, and worthy of everyone giving him a chance instead of immediately rejecting him."
"You naive..." He frowned, wanting to correct her dangerous idea. But seeing her matter-of-fact look, he couldn't say it.
He suddenly remembered what she had done to him: the same innocence, the same kindness, the same generosity and selflessness.
Those miserable, vulnerable, and even despised groups are always the first to receive her sympathy.
"What are you trying to say?" Hermione glared at him unconvinced. "Don't forget, Professor Lupin treats students from all colleges equally. Do you think Professor Moody's methods are better than Professor Lupin's?"
"Of course not." Draco exhaled and said softly, "Maybe you're right."
He knew very well what Moody's method was - to use some cold violence against Draco Malfoy. If the students were sensible, they would probably follow the professor's likes and dislikes and ignore and isolate him.
But Draco didn't care; the Slytherin students were more united than the outer houses imagined. At least when it came to the issue of "Moody potentially threatening student safety," they stood by Draco—especially those whose families had Death Eater connections—and they all stood by Draco, even constantly encouraging him to take measures to remove Moody.
"Look, we've got your back," Graham Montague said to him one day in the common room. "Even Marcus said he could use his family connections. They've got people on the board, you know."
"Glad to hear your opinion." Draco smiled at him politely, "I'll find you if I need anything."
Mrs. Meng nodded with satisfaction and walked away arm in arm with several senior students.
Draco didn't act rashly. He knew some Slytherins disliked Moody but didn't want to stand out, so they fanned the flames and tried to use him as a pawn. However, he was content with the current peace. According to his past life memories, Professor Moody had only taught for a year before packing up and leaving. There was no need to confront him.
He suspected that Professor Moody in this life was even more frantic than in his previous life, targeting him even more harshly in class. This was probably because Professor Snape had spoken to him about someone breaking into his office. This was the only reason Draco could find; other than that, he and Moody had no other interactions.
Yes, this might be the reason why Professor Moody hated him. Professor Moody's words to Professor McGonagall outside the classroom were clearly pointed out. He knew that Draco had seen him peeking outside Professor Snape's office and had complained to Professor Snape.
He was warning Draco not to meddle in other people's business.
He seemed to be feeling guilty about something, which aroused Draco's curiosity: Why on earth was he spying on Professor Snape, and why was he so angry about his complaints—angry beyond imagination?
As for Professor Snape, he seemed even more troubled than Draco. He had been getting angry more often than usual in Potions class recently, and he had never been polite to Harry and the others. It seemed that Professor Snape's warnings and talks with Moody had had no effect.
Last night, Draco even saw Moody swagger into Professor Snape's office and said in front of Professor Snape that he wanted to do a routine check. At that moment, Draco seemed to see the anger on Professor Snape's head instantly materialize, and he jumped three feet high.
"I refuse. You are no longer an Auror from the Ministry of Magic, but a teacher at Hogwarts. We are colleagues of equal rank. You have no right to inspect me." Professor Snape said coldly, opening the door to his office. "Get out."
Moody walked out angrily, mumbling something.
Professor Snape slammed the door shut and said coldly, "What did you want to ask, Draco?"
"Oh, how do I eliminate the side effects of the stimulant?" Draco swallowed hard, enduring Professor Snape's negative pressure and saying, "I want to improve this potion so that it no longer has the side effect of smoke coming out of the ears for hours."
"Interesting." Professor Snape said slowly, with his hands on his hips, looking at his medicine cabinet, as if looking for some inspiration. "Improving the potion - how interesting - let me think about it, think about it carefully -"
Draco shuddered as he recalled Professor Snape's murderous gaze.
Perhaps Professor Snape wasn't thinking too much about improving potions, but was planning to use the ingredients in the medicine cabinet to brew some special potion - put it in Professor Moody's curved bottle - to poison him and make him paralyzed. He shook his quill in his hand and thought maliciously: he wouldn't mind helping with that.
"Focus, Draco!" Hermione poked him in the shoulder with the end of her quill in frustration. "Professor Sinistra said the astronomy class you missed was very important and might be on the final exam!"
He was reviewing the contents of his astronomy class under Hermione's supervision. As October approached, all the homework became heavier, and the professors claimed that this inexplicable academic pressure was to cope with the fifth-year OWLs exams.
Draco had already finished his paper on the eighteenth-century goblin rebellions assigned by Professor Binns, but had not yet started the skrewt observations that Hagrid had required every other day. He was relieved that he didn't need to read the three books assigned by Professor Flitwick, as he had already learned the Summoning Charm.
"That's right, you knew how to use the summoning spell last year. Oh no, to be exact, you knew how to use it before your first year. I remember you summoned Neville's Leff on the train! That's why I always feel so stressed, because I can never keep up with your learning progress, although I have tried very hard--" Hermione's tone was filled with envy. The quill in her hand accidentally touched her cheek, leaving a little ink, but she was unaware of it.
"If you could put the house-elf books aside for a while, maybe you'd learn faster." Draco lazily sketched the images of the seven planets - that was his homework for the astronomy class he had missed.
"Of course not!" said Hermione flatly. "Since my visit to the Hogwarts kitchens, I've been researching this in depth in the library. The slavery of elves goes back centuries. I can't believe no one has done anything about it; in the thousand-plus pages of 'Hogwarts, A History' there's never a single mention of house-elves!"
"So?" Draco glanced at her.
"I'm going to start a promotional society," Hermione announced proudly, her face covered in ink. "Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, or SPEW for short."
S.P.E.W..
The unsolved mystery of the previous life - what exactly does SPEW mean - is finally revealed.
It was completely Hermione Granger style. Draco's mouth twitched oddly as he suppressed the urge to laugh.
"What's the goal? This - SPEW?" He suppressed his smile and looked at the ink spots on her face seriously.
"The short-term goal is to ensure house-elves receive fair wages and good working conditions. The long-term goals include changing the law that elves cannot use wands, and also trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because the lack of representation of elves' rights is really shocking." Hermione said radiantly, seeming very proud of the solution she came up with.
The way she spoke with the ink on her face was kind of cute. Too cute, in fact. Draco finally couldn't hide his smile.
At this moment, everything she said would make him feel cute. Any unrealistic castles in the air, any naive vision that made people laugh, seemed to be able to come true when it came out of her confident and rosy mouth.
As if confused, he suddenly leaned closer to Hermione and raised his hand, trying to wipe the ink off her face, but it seemed to make it worse.
He murmured, "Merlin, such a grand goal... How do you plan to achieve it?"
Hermione certainly hadn't expected him to attack suddenly.
"Draco! Are you listening to me?" She slapped his disruptive hand away, leaned back against the seat, her face slightly flushed, and whispered, "What are you doing? Stop it."
"There's something on your face." He innocently spread out his hands and showed her the ink stains on them. "Look in the mirror."
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed in surprise. Rushing to find the mirror, she diligently used the topic organized by SPEW to relieve her panic, "Draco, you will join, right? SPEW?"
"You have to promise not to be angry with me first. Because you may not like what I say." Draco didn't have the heart to pour cold water on her, but now that things had come to this, some things had to be said.
"Go ahead. I'll try not to get angry." She began to wipe her face in front of the hand mirror. Her eyes wandered to the edge of the mirror. She glanced at him, complaining about the mess he had made. "Did you wipe the ink away on purpose?"
"I didn't mean to." Draco's ears flushed, and he took a tissue to wipe his ink-stained hand, "I'm sorry."
His hand was a little strange, even a little out of control, and suddenly it moved on its own - oh, he forgot to use a tissue. He hurriedly grabbed the quill and began to draw a star map, trying to steady his hand.
"Fortunately, it's not much." After a while, she finally wiped her face clean and asked excitedly, "What did you want to say?"
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm going to disappoint you about your organization. I don't think it's a good idea." He drew an image of Jupiter and said seriously, "If I understand correctly, you're almost saying that you want to set the house-elves free."
Hermione's delighted expression suddenly seemed to be frozen.
She came to her senses, put down her hand mirror, and said in disbelief: "Draco, house-elves should be free. You are one of the friendliest people I have ever met towards house-elves. Look at what you did to Dobby! You - should agree with this idea?"
"No." Draco said slowly, determined to reveal the cruel truth to her, "I will not let Dobby go free. It knows too many secrets of the Malfoy family. Freedom means insecurity of information."
"But you're willing to pay it a salary and give it a vacation." Hermione looked at him with disappointment and murmured, "I thought you were different from them."
"Yes. I'm willing to pay her a salary and give her vacation time, but that's all I can do." Draco didn't look back at her, as he meticulously sketched Mercury. "Don't blame me for this, okay? Freedom is always limited. I have limited abilities, so I can only prioritize my own interests."
"But they have thoughts and language, they are not a piece of meat or wood! They need to be given basic respect!" Hermione said fiercely.
"I can only respect it to the extent that I can," Draco said. "I can't control the opinions of hundreds of elves. Besides, they don't want to be freed."
"You are completely sophistry. It's not that they don't want to be liberated, but they simply don't understand that they are being oppressed. This doesn't mean that oppression is right! We should let them be free so that they can understand what freedom means!" Hermione's face suddenly turned red.
"But even if you rush into the kitchen right now and shout 'Who wants freedom?', no elf will cooperate with you. Have you ever thought about understanding and respecting their original ideas first?" Draco said coldly, "Honestly, your current behavior will only make us disliked by the house-elves and banned from the Hogwarts kitchens. What effect will it have?"
"I see. You only care about whether you can get into the kitchen and make something to eat, right? You only care about whether you can get some convenience in life instead of doing the right thing, right?" She looked at Draco as if she was meeting him for the first time. "I didn't expect you to be this kind of person. Selfish and only care about yourself. These thoughts of yours suddenly made me realize that you really are a very Slytherin."
"Yes, I am. I've always been that kind of person. You have to understand that I'm not a selfless person." Draco said calmly, glancing at her. "Yes, I'm a Slytherin who will do anything to benefit himself. I can't do something that will get me involved without any benefit. I suggest you don't do it either. It's meaningless. Even if you run around for them, no elf will thank you."
"I never did this to make anyone thank me! Nor did I do this to gain any benefits! I just wanted to uphold the morality, fairness and justice that this world should have!" Hermione said angrily.
"Perhaps this world doesn't have the morality, fairness, and justice you believe in," Draco asked her. "What makes you think you can break the rules that govern this world?"
Hermione stared at him blankly, as if struck by the implication of his words. Suddenly, she stood up and began to pack up her books, parchment and quill.
A feeling of frustrated self-esteem and not being understood spread in her heart.
"Then we have nothing more to say about the matter," she said bitterly.
"Hermione, don't be like this. Don't be angry with me because of this. I thought we were just discussing the problem." Draco stood up to stop her and said uneasily: "This is unfair to me - find anyone to ask about the rights of house elves, and few wizards will agree with you."
"I don't believe it!" Hermione looked at him stubbornly, "There are always some wizards who are not so selfish!"
"Not so selfish?" Draco laughed briefly, looking at the silly girl and said, "You can give it a try and see if they are what you think. Let's put it this way, if you can find ten members, then I can join your organization; if you can't, you have to admit that this is the consensus of the wizarding world, and it has little to do with the idea of 'selfishness'."
"I will! Draco Malfoy, you just wait and see!" Hermione picked up the last book and didn't look at the boy who looked gentle and charming on the outside but was cold-hearted on the inside.
"Also, finish your astrology chart; it's due on Monday!" She tossed her thick brown curls viciously, held her head high, and strode out of the study corner.