"...What kind of madness are you on?"
Watching Harry, whose expression had been peculiar since just now, Malfoy frowned and asked.
By this time, they had already left Lockhart's office, or more accurately—been expelled from it. Lockhart was clearly displeased with Harry interrupting his speech, but his status as a professor made him politely "invite" the two out of the office.
"Shut up."
Harry snapped without hesitation, and he looked around, somewhat bewildered—the dim Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom was empty except for him and Malfoy, with the chandelier of burning candles swinging gently on the ceiling.
"Ha, if you're worried about being expelled, you can always come to me—" Malfoy sneered. Although he didn't know what was wrong with Harry, mocking Harry Potter seemed almost ingrained in his bones, "The terms I mentioned earlier are still effective—"
"Ha, I wouldn't bow to a fool whose head is stuffed full of slugs—"
"You—"
Malfoy took a deep breath and quickly headed towards the classroom door. He stopped at the doorway, seemingly wanting to throw some harsh words back at Harry, but the next moment, the heavy wooden door slammed onto his forehead—
"Thump—"
Does it sound good? A good sound means a good knock.
Stumbling from the collision, Malfoy fell on his backside, clutching his forehead, glaring angrily at the unexpected intruder who burst into the classroom—
"...Went the wrong way again."
Looking at the somewhat familiar classroom, William mumbled as he turned the map in his hand, but the Niffler sitting on his shoulder had a completely different opinion. It used its short forelimbs to tap William's cheek, squeaking loudly as it occasionally pointed at the map in front of him.
"...William?"
Harry was somewhat surprised and instinctively called out the name of the newcomer.
"You're...the transfer student from Hufflepuff?"
Malfoy glared at William with a face full of anger, his pallor turning into a disturbingly crimson hue—he opened his mouth as if wanting to mock, but when he locked eyes with William's deep blue ones, he found himself completely speechless.
"Harry Potter..."
William looked around the classroom—so...is he stepping into some main storyline?
"Good evening..." Harry walked up, seeming somewhat restrained, "We were just detained...so are you looking for someplace?" He clearly noticed William's mumbling as he entered, and the Hogwarts map he was holding—
This was a map William had clipped from a copy of "Hogwarts: A History".
At this moment, Harry had already pushed aside the whispers from hell earlier, looking at William standing outside, yet his mind was filled with the warmth of grasping the other's right hand earlier this morning in front of Hagrid's hut.
"..."
Why does he keep staring at my hand?
Feeling a bit uneasy from being stared at, William instinctively stepped back, and at this moment, Malfoy dashed out of the classroom—he surprisingly didn't turn back to throw harsh words at Harry, but instead ran quickly down the stairs without looking back, his hurried footsteps quickly fading away into the air.
Yet the two standing at the door clearly paid no attention to Malfoy's departure.
Because William didn't want to be seen as the Savior's "mother", he chose to hide his hand behind his back, "I'm looking for a dragon sculpture that should be inscribed with Hogwarts' motto—Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. (Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon)"
"...Sorry, I don't know where that is."
"It's understandable, Hogwarts' paths are indeed hard to recognize..." William wasn't disappointed, and the Niffler sitting on his shoulder nodded as well, "But I remember it should be underground, yet I've circled three or four times in the Slytherin Dungeon..."
"But this is the fourth floor—" Harry opened his mouth, seemingly unsure what expression to make.
"Would you believe me if I said I don't know how I got here?"
Once inside the castle, William's pathfinding attribute was maxed out, and he sighed helplessly—he had spent two and a half years secretly connecting most fireplaces in the castle to the Floo Powder network, ensuring he wouldn't be late for class every day.
But those fireplaces, either dismantled or expelled from the Floo Powder network over the past hundred years.
Now, to get to where he used to go, he could only circle around the castle looking—fortunately, the Room of Requirement's position wasn't too hellish, and he found the tapestry of the Troll clubbing Barnabas on the eighth floor in just two days.
"..."
Harry nodded, then shook his head because every time he saw the other, he would vaguely feel that warm wrapping sensation, making his attitude towards William somewhat peculiar—
"Alright, detention is over, you should head back to your dormitory—come, extend your hand."
William grabbed the Niffler that had just crawled back onto his shoulder, indicating Harry to extend his palm. After the boy cradles his hands in front of him, William's wrist started to exert slightly, as ten or so Golden Galleons dropped into the boy's hands as they shook.
"...That should be all, I'll be leaving now."
Poking the Niffler's dazed belly, William turned and walked in the opposite direction of where Malfoy had disappeared.
"Wait—"
"?"
"I wanted to say...uh, thanks, for saving me and Ron earlier above the Black Lake—" Harry hesitantly said.
"Oh, you mean that? It's nothing."
William shook his head, his figure disappearing at the end of the corridor.
Watching the disappearing back, a faint feeling of loss welled up in Harry—his goal in calling the other was to once again feel the warmth he felt earlier in the morning, but in the end, he wasn't sure how to express it.
He barely organized his feelings and familiarly returned to the Gryffindor Tower.
"Fwooper—"
The Fat Lady's portrait swung open, Harry climbed into the common room with hands and feet.
"Harry, you're finally back?"
Having an adequate number of people, they finished detention early, and Ron, who was now center stage dancing in the common room, turned his gaze. He was presently embellishing the story of his outstanding "achievements" against Slytherin earlier that morning to the other young lions, waving when he saw Harry appear, "How was Malfoy's expression tonight? Was it spectacular?"
"...More or less." Harry said weakly, his mood still on the mend, but suddenly remembered Malfoy's mention of Ron's potential expulsion, so he scanned the room, "Where's Hermione?"
"Don't know, haven't seen her—" Ron clearly noted the perfunctory tone in Harry's voice, but assumed it was due to Harry being ravaged by Lockhart for four hours, "So, did Malfoy say anything to you?"
"Uh...no."
Seeing the excitement on Ron's face, Harry shook his head—he knew the answer his friend craved wasn't the one he provided.
After greeting Ron, Harry dragged his weary body back to the dormitory, laying down on his bed, his hand lifted to rub his brows—Harry felt he was forgetting something very important.
But when he tried to recall, he simply couldn't remember.
...
Meanwhile, in the tower dungeon.
"Finally..."
Looking at the spiraling staircase in the room's center leading downward, William nodded in relief—he'd managed to avoid losing his way until morning.