Chapter 112: Hermione's Argument Game
What kind of person is Draco Malfoy?
This question actually became the reason for Hermione Granger's recent insomnia.
He is a mysterious boy, he always has been.
She had suspected him of being cold and distant, until she discerned his hidden tenderness in countless details. She had suspected him of being evil, until she discovered in the astronomical tower that his heart was devoted to light. She had suspected him of being a coward, until that full-moon night, when he stood before a werewolf to protect her, proving his rare bravery.
Now, with the same arrogant air, he told her that he was indeed as she suspected, a selfish Slytherin who only did things that were good for himself.
However, when he admitted this frankly, she was not sure. Thinking calmly, he was not that kind of person at all.
Draco was always like this. He would always describe himself in the worst possible terms. He was a master of saying one thing and thinking another, and he wasn't afraid to define himself in the worst possible terms.
He seems to lack one ability - the ability to discover the beautiful qualities in his soul. This does not mean that those beautiful qualities do not exist, but that he has buried them so deep that he is even ashamed to dig them out.
For example, last school year, when he agreed to teach everyone the Patronus Charm, he also adopted the tone of "Slytherin's benefits" and was embarrassed to admit that he was "helping others."
To belittle oneself daily—it was not a healthy way to live. Hermione's eyes twinkled as she watched him wield his wand with such ease.
She was about to begin her favorite game of argument.
This time, she intended to observe him, to prove whether Draco Malfoy was a person who only cared about personal gain, and to find out what he meant by "benefits".
"I've noticed you go to the Quidditch pitch every evening." During Transfiguration class, Hermione whispered to him, "Isn't there a Quidditch match this school year?"
"Oh, special training—for Crabbe and Goyle." Draco yawned. "They're planning to participate in the selection next school year, and I've made a whole year's training plan for them. The early bird catches the worm."
"What good is this for you? A Slytherin who always has to pay attention to the benefits of everything?" She looked at him with her beautiful eyes, as if to provoke him.
He was stunned for a moment, then quickly regained his lazy demeanor. "Is it a benefit to train players for the Slytherin team in advance?"
"I guess so." Hermione said reluctantly, still with some doubt in her eyes.
"So, how's your SPEW going?" He twirled his wand idly in his hand, as if to kill time.
"Working on it," Hermione said curtly, her jaw set, not wanting to discuss the subject.
Draco guessed that this wasn't going well, because Hermione had only been angry with him for three days before responding to his persistent chatter with a certain arrogance.
"Why does Harry look so listless lately?" He secretly glanced at her instantly stiff face out of the corner of his eye and tactfully changed the subject.
"He feels he is worrying for no reason. You know, ever since he wrote a letter to his godfather at your suggestion." Hermione shook her head and, with a sad face, turned a large white porcelain plate into a beautiful little mushroom.
"Very exciting." He smiled at her encouragingly. "Nothing can stop you, right?"
"Of course." Hearing him say that, Hermione couldn't help but curl up the corners of her mouth, and came out of the melancholy of "SPEW membership development has reached a bottleneck" and smiled happily.
Really, what good would it do him to encourage her? Is this something a selfish person should do? She looked at the beautiful lips of the boy who was full of praise for her and thought confusedly.
It was a Transfiguration class on a Thursday morning in mid-October, and Professor McGonagall was asking the students to practice cross-species transformations, such as turning a hedgehog into a pincushion or a guinea fowl into a guinea pig.
Draco had long been adept at performing these kinds of transformation spells. He and his study partner, Hermione, had both successfully performed transformation spells in front of Professor McGonagall the previous year, rendering both a pincushion and a guinea pig invulnerable.
Professor McGonagall was so surprised that she had to assign them a task separately, asking them to preview the content of the advanced transfiguration class in advance.
"Of course I can let you just follow the syllabus. You will have an easy time in my Transfiguration class. However, why waste your talents during such precious youth? Don't you think it's a pity? Learning in advance will help you get better grades in your fifth-year OWLs and even help you learn in the NEWT courses in the future—" Her usually stern eyes gleamed with expectation, just like the kind of parents in the Muggle world who wanted their children to succeed, as Hermione described. "I think you will probably choose Transfiguration as one of the NEWT courses?"
"Of course," they said in unison, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes.
"Then, from now on, you will have to give it your all," Professor McGonagall said with a gratified smile. "I will be extremely strict with you."
Encouraged by Professor McGonagall's rare smile, Draco and Hermione diligently practiced all the knowledge Professor McGonagall had taught them: turning plates into mushrooms, non-animal summoning spells, turning owls into small telescopes, the Vanishing Charm, even human body transformation, and various other breaking spells...
Now Draco whispered to Hermione, "Harry isn't being too worried. The timing of his scar pain is really odd, and that dream, he saw a giant snake, didn't he?"
As he spoke, he successfully transformed Ron's owl named "Piggy" next door into a pair of panoramic binoculars and handed it to Ron with a sly smile.
"Just like the real thing!" Ron observed everything in the distance with great interest through the telescope, and exclaimed in amazement, "Aha! Harry, I saw a beetle on Seamus's head! Now it's flown away, passed by Dean, and landed on Lavender's hair..."
Harry was still daydreaming about his hedgehog, and didn't seem to be trying to turn it into a pincushion, nor did he participate in their conversation as usual.
He did look a little preoccupied, Draco thought.
"Lavender is fighting the beetle, oh, and now, Parvati has joined the battlefield..." Ron said excitedly, as if he was doing some kind of live broadcast. He didn't stop until he saw Professor McGonagall's angry nostrils in the camera.
"Mr. Weasley, if you're so interested in beetles instead of pincushions, I wouldn't mind trying to turn you into one." Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look, then glanced at the pincushion on his desk that was trembling with fear - there were still a few hedgehog needles on it - and finally walked away to observe the finished products of other students.
"She can be quite scary sometimes, you know, Professor McGonagall." Ron pouted at Draco and threw the Omni-scope back to him for him to remove the curse.
"It's okay, Ron, she's just trying to scare you. Professors can't transfigure students—that's a serious offense." Hermione tilted her head slightly across from Draco and comforted him in a matter-of-fact tone.
Ron grimaced and continued to torture the escaped pincushion on his desk with his wand.
"Ron, actually, you can--" Hermione couldn't help but wanted to remind Ron, but was interrupted by Draco next to her.
"There's a little trick for turning a pincushion into a pincushion." Draco suddenly turned around, blocking her line of sight, and said to Ron, "You can try this method..."
What good would it do Ron any good if he taught him the little tricks on the conversion spell? Hermione looked at the back of his platinum-blond head and listened to him solemnly say what she wanted to say, and suddenly felt confused.
The bell for the end of get out of class interrupted her thoughts. Hermione gathered her books and hurriedly stuffed them into her bag. The next moment, the bag was in the hands of the boy, who said calmly, "Let's go."
"I can carry it myself!" Her face flushed.
"Hermione Granger, I've noticed that you're not used to accepting even the slightest help from your friends." Draco looked her over and said in a hurt tone, "Don't you consider me a friend?"
"Of course I consider you a friend," she said hurriedly.
"Just an ordinary friend from the next door college." Draco said with a smile.
Hermione opened her mouth and slammed it shut. How did he know that? she wondered guiltily.
"Don't be so quick to deny it. I heard it all." Draco's face showed a grudge. "That sounds a bit distant, doesn't it?"
"I—I mean, you're a good friend of the neighboring college. Not just an ordinary friend," Hermione said hastily. Feeling she was making things worse, she simply turned around uncomfortably and walked away. "You—if you want to carry it, just carry it!"
What good would it do to help her carry her schoolbag? This Slytherin who claimed to be "selfish"! She was extremely confused, walking from the corridor to the classroom door with her empty hands, her mind full of question marks.
Draco smirked and followed her.
Ron, who had witnessed all this from across the aisle, was stunned. He asked Harry in confusion, "A schoolbag—what's so good about it? It's not the Quidditch trophy. Why are you so excited?"
"Have you ever heard of a word? Sovereignty." Harry finally came to his senses. He looked around at the confused and disapproving eyes of those around him and said mysteriously, "He's asserting his sovereignty."
The girl, whose sovereignty was inexplicably claimed, was completely unaware of this. She was walking side by side with a scheming young man on the way to the Ancient Runes Classroom, discussing Harry's psychological state.
"Harry felt that Sirius had finally started his own life and was finally willing to go out and see the world... He didn't want to become a burden to Sirius..." Hermione said softly.
"Nonsense! What burden? Sirius Black is Harry's godfather." Draco frowned.
"Harry is just afraid that Sirius will bear too much pressure because of the title of godfather. He thinks Sirius should not be trapped in the Black mansion, but should go out more often and enjoy the free air. Being a godson means too many restrictions." Hermione clicked her tongue.
"He hasn't fully understood his godfather yet, nor does he understand the seriousness of the problem. Sirius Black had a difficult time in Azkaban. The only reason he was able to hold on in that harsh environment, without collapsing or withering, was because of a breath of air—Harry was probably that breath of air." Draco said to her, his eyes distant and complex. "I guess that for a long time, Harry was Sirius Black's only hope for survival. If anything happened to Harry, he would never be able to recover."
Hermione looked at Draco inquiringly.
Is he really the "late bloomer" his mother thinks he is? However, his insights into many things are so sharp, and his thinking patterns when looking at many specific problems are quite mature.
In the case of Sirius Black, neither Harry nor Ron could grasp this depth; their understanding was still somewhat childish. But Draco, he was able to make such judgments, he could realize the pain and inner torment that Sirius Black had gone through.
He always said that he was a selfish Slytherin. But, could a selfish person really put himself in other people's shoes and think about things from their perspective?
He always said he didn't do anything that didn't benefit him, but what good did it do him to care about Harry's depression, Ron's Transfiguration problems, or even Sirius Black's mental state?
"That's right. I think so too." Hermione stared at his silent face, trying to find some evidence of his duplicity in his calmly blinking gray eyes. "I have advised Harry before, but he needs time to understand this. You know, he always wants to report good news instead of bad news, always hoping that Sirius Black will be proud of him instead of worrying about him. This is probably a common human problem."
"Understandable. You wouldn't tell Mr. and Mrs. Granger all the worrying things, would you?" Draco asked.
"Of course. If they knew the dangers we'd been through, they'd be worried sick. I only told them a little bit about werewolves, and Dad panicked." Hermione said worriedly, "Although they tried their best to hide such emotions, I could still vaguely sense them. Sometimes, I don't know how to deal with such things. You know I value honesty, but I'm hiding things from them, and it often makes me feel very stressed. It's not that I don't love them -"
"On the contrary, you love them too much, so you find it difficult to be honest with them about certain things. There's no need to feel this way," Draco said lightly. "Think about it, do your parents tell you everything that worries them?"
"I guess not," she said, feeling suddenly relieved.
"So, concealing something doesn't mean you don't love me. Not being honest doesn't mean you don't trust me." Draco said meaningfully, "Do you understand what I mean now?"
"I understand a little now." Hermione reminded him vigilantly, "But I still hope you can be honest with me."
"On some issues, I've been more honest with you than with my parents," Draco said bluntly.
"Really?" She looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"Of course. So, to be honest, I have to tell you that the reason Sirius Black went out was because of Harry. Remember our conversation in the Astronomy Tower? He is also doing what I did. He is now my ally." Draco said mysteriously, "He left London not for ridiculous reasons such as traveling around or pursuing freedom, but to try to track down some clues."
"Oh—" Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
Now she had more evidence of his selflessness. He was rebelling against Voldemort and against his family's will. What good would that do him?
He pretended to scoff at fairness and justice, but as he embarked on a difficult path of secretly opposing Voldemort, constantly facing the pain of betraying his family and parents, wasn't he actually upholding the fairness and justice in his heart?
Yet he insists he is selfish. Could anyone be more duplicitous?
"It all makes sense." Hermione walked quickly into the door of the Ancient Runes classroom, which he had opened for her. She smiled at him gratefully and continued walking towards her seat. "I used to wonder why Sirius Black was in such a hurry to embark on this journey that he even missed the Quidditch World Cup. This would have been a great parent-child activity, you know, the two of them setting up a tent and camping. I guess Harry must have felt a little disappointed about this -"
"Don't tell Harry about this, at least not now. Sirius Black would like this matter to remain low-key, at least until he returns; and you don't want Harry to have to worry about whether his godfather is in danger while he's in Transfiguration class? He's anxious enough as it is already." Sitting in their usual seats, Draco leaned close to her ear and whispered so that the students in the classroom wouldn't hear.
"Of course I understand! I'll keep it a secret." She blushed as she felt a slight tickle on her ear.
The Ancient Runes class after Transfiguration was one of Draco's favorite subjects.
It's not that it's particularly interesting; in fact, most of the time it's quite obscure, but it's quite practical, especially when it comes to some of the more ancient magical areas—like tinkering with the Vanishing Cabinet.
In his previous life, Draco did not specifically choose to take this kind of knowledge, and he relied on his self-study ability to repair the Vanishing Cabinet; in this life, Draco was eager to learn it systematically, so he seized this elective opportunity.
In this class, they are learning about the numerical symbolism of ancient runes.
Professor Bathsheda Barbling is always enthusiastic about her course: "In the early Middle Ages, many Old English inscriptions were written in runes, which led to their widespread use in many medieval wizarding communities in Britain... and numerical symbolism is very important in this context."
She looked around at the eager faces of the students in the classroom and smiled with satisfaction. "Today, we will study the animal symbols that represent the numbers 0 to 9. I suggest that you work in pairs to explore these topics in the textbook. This is the homework for this class. Please hand it in before the end of get out of class..."
"The runic number 0 is taken from the Invisible Beast... the number 1 is the horn of the Unicorn... the number 2 is the horns of the Horned Beast... the number 3 is taken from the three heads of the Runespoor..." Hermione quickly flipped through the book and read out the symbols of these numbers, while Draco wrote them down on a blank piece of parchment in beautiful cursive handwriting.
"The harpy has four colors of fur, representing the number 4... the five-legged pentas represent the number 5... the salamander can only survive six hours after leaving the flames, representing the number 6... the number 8 is taken from the eight eyes of the Acromantula... and the number 9 represents the Hydra..." Hermione continued reading, her brows furrowed.
"Where's the number 7?" Draco glanced at Hermione nonchalantly. His slender fingers paused, and he tapped the table with his knuckles in a hint of impatience.
"That's the problem," Hermione said, puzzled. "Seven doesn't have any symbolic meaning. It's just a saying: it's the most magical number."
"The most magical—" Draco said with interest, "I remember the same statement about '7' in the Arithmancy class. It's a mysterious and magical number—although we don't know why it's so strange."
The reason why he was so impressed by 7 was that the number 7 appeared in the interpretation of both of their names.
"That's right. This number is also quite popular in the Muggle world. Muggles divide a week into seven days..." Hermione thought with interest.
"There are also seven days in the wizarding world. Oh, is it time for another demonstration of your argumentative skills?" Draco said lazily, "If you insist on finding proof from the corners, there is also the theory of seven planets in astronomy - the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn and Jupiter. I just drew them."
"If you've studied Muggle math, you might know that 7 is a prime number, divisible only by 1 and 7." Hermione said unyieldingly, "I won't lose to you in this kind of situation."
"There are seven colors in a rainbow." Draco glanced at the colored light on the window glass.
"In a certain Muggle religion, the Old Testament of the Bible says that God created Adam in seven days and took out Adam's seventh rib to create Eve." Hermione said seriously.
"That's too bloody!" Draco looked at her in surprise. "Why did you take out his ribs?"
"That's a metaphor! It shows the deep bond between them!" Hermione shook her head, amused by his ignorant attitude.
After all, what good did it do him to always be willing to play the argumentative games she so relished? Was it just to outdo her?
"Well, Muggles are really scary." Draco said with lingering fear, "Back to the number '7', in the wizarding world, children will show magical abilities around the age of seven."
"Yes, I did start to display magical abilities when I was seven. I was sitting on the floor, glancing at the book on the top shelf, and it instantly appeared in my hand - Mum and Dad were shocked." Hermione asked curiously, "I thought this ability appeared randomly. Do all wizarding children display magical abilities at a specific age - seven? Are there no exceptions?"
"A Squib," Draco said. "If there's no sign at the age of seven, it's most likely a Squib."
"Like Mr. Filch?"
"That's right."
"I have a question: Are there many Squibs in the wizarding world?" Hermione asked with interest.
"More than you think," Draco said flatly.
"But I've only ever seen one Squib, Mr. Filch."
"That's because the other Squibs have gradually moved to the Muggle world to live," Draco said. "Except for places like Hogwarts, few people are willing to provide job opportunities for Squibs."
"Oh, come on, another example of unfairness," said Hermione, shaking her head. "I thought it was only house-elves—"
"Don't be angry just yet," Draco explained, noticing her disapproving look. "Even if there were jobs, few Squibs could adapt to wizarding society and meet the needs of employers. Imagine everyone around you can use magic, but you can't. Filch can't even cast a cleaning spell—all the cleaning has to be done manually—it's incredibly inefficient, isn't it?"
Hermione looked at him and nodded.
She suddenly realized that he was always willing to patiently explain the rules of the wizarding world to her, but what good did it do him? He could have avoided explaining so much.
"You see, something that could have been easily solved with a wand has become something that requires a lot of time and energy," he said regretfully. "Squibs naturally don't want to live in the wizarding world for long - it's too difficult."
"That's a bit tragic," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Now I can understand why Mr. Filch always punishes students by making them clean the trophies with their hands instead of using magic. He probably wants them to experience how hard it is to be unable to perform magic. Every cleaning job is hard for him, but everyone always subconsciously ignores this and keeps adding to his workload with mud, slugs, and all sorts of mischievous magical items."
"Oh, don't say you sympathize with him." Draco said disdainfully, "Have you forgotten who caught you in your first year and caused you to be deducted 50 points?"
"Of course I remember. But we did break curfew. He was just doing his job." Hermione frowned and said slowly, "Of course, I never thought his way of punishment was humanitarian. I just think that not all Squibs are as harsh as he is. There are always some Squibs with likable personalities, right? Just like there are likable people among Muggles."
"Which Muggle are you talking about?" Draco asked her back.
"The neighborhood kids are all so cute. And the kids of Mum and Dad's friends are always friendly to me," Hermione said with a shrug.
"Boy or girl?" he asked with a pout.
"Yes, both." She said frankly.
Oh, Muggle boys! Draco's face darkened.
"Don't forget, no matter how likable a Muggle is, he's still a Muggle. Wizards and Muggles are from two different worlds," he said coldly.
"I have reservations," Hermione said stubbornly.
Mum and Dad were the sweetest Muggles she had ever known. She would always love them, and the fact that they couldn't do magic wouldn't make it any less.
"All right." Draco glanced at her, and was pierced by her certainty that some Muggle boys were likable.
He said unhappily, "Anyway, I win. After discussing this for so long, you haven't come up with any new arguments about '7'—"
"Wait, there are still seven years left at Hogwarts!" Hermione said unconvincedly. "I didn't bring it up right away because I wanted to discuss the topic of Squibs with you!"
"If you say so, don't forget there are seven floors in the castle," Draco reminded her.
He even thought of the seven secret passages through Hogwarts shown on the Marauder's Map, but that was difficult to explain to Hermione.
Hermione seemed stumped. She pondered for a moment, then hesitantly said, "There are 142 staircases in the castle—"
"From the perspective of arithmetic divination, the sum of these three numbers 1, 4, and 2 is 7." Draco quickly responded.
"I listed these examples, you can't snatch them away!" Hermione glared at him and said proudly, "Can't you think of anything else? I win, don't I?"
"People have seven orifices." Draco said, staring at her face.
Hermione glared at him, furious. "A Quidditch team needs seven players! The seventh player is a seeker!"
"I didn't know you were so interested in Quidditch." Draco's grey eyes flashed with a faint smile.
"Because—" Hermione faltered.
Because you play Quidditch.
Because I have never missed any of your Quidditch games.
But she couldn't say it.
She didn't want to show too much of a fascination with him.
"Why?" He raised his eyebrows and asked her.
"Some Seeker," she said briefly, her cheeks gradually turning pink and her eyes looking at him defiantly.
Then she saw the smile in those clear eyes slowly fade, replaced by a cold tone. His mouth opened and closed, and he uttered something incoherent, "Oh, it seems that Viktor Krum is really unforgettable."
What's going on with Krum?
She didn't like his expression or his tone.
What good would it do him to bring up that unfortunate Krum now? Was he simply trying to confuse the audience by evading the issue because he couldn't come up with any other arguments for "7"?
"Draco, you're absolutely incomprehensible." Hermione slammed the book shut, and as the bell for the end of get out of class rang suddenly, she took the parchment from the boy's hand and handed it to Professor Victor at the podium.
A whole day passed, and she still didn't know whether he was that kind of selfish person.
She still didn't understand what his so-called benefits were behind his many hypocritical behaviors.
But she was absolutely certain that Draco Malfoy was quite weird and inexplicable at times, even to the point of being extremely awkward!