Malfoy walked briskly, forcing Hermione to jog to keep up.
"How are we getting there?" she asked, a spark of determination lighting her eyes. Once Hermione made up her mind, she became even more eager than Malfoy.
"Just follow me."
He led her through winding corridors, turning east and west, entering and exiting classrooms, until they reached the midpoint of a corridor on the fourth floor.
"This is the one," Malfoy said, striding towards a statue of a hunchbacked witch with only one eye.
"Separate!" He tapped the witch lightly with his wand.
The statue's hump immediately opened, wide enough for a thin person to slip through.
"How did you know there was a mechanism here?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Secret," Malfoy replied, keeping her in suspense.
"Fine, don't tell me then." Hermione sounded annoyed, though her earlier unhappiness seemed to have vanished.
"Follow me. Try not to get lost—though, from here, I doubt you could."
With that, the two of them stepped into the opening.
They slid down for quite a while, like on a smooth stone slide. After an uncertain amount of time, their feet finally touched solid ground again.
"It's freezing down here," Malfoy muttered, shivering.
"Lumos!" Hermione cast the spell. A glow from her wand illuminated the narrow, winding tunnel.
"This place is really like a rabbit warren," Hermione observed, looking around.
"Don't get distracted. Watch your step," Malfoy warned.
The ground was uneven, and one could easily trip. More than once Hermione nearly stumbled, but each time Malfoy caught her arm to steady her.
The journey was long and dull, yet with two people, it didn't feel lonely. They filled the silence with idle chatter.
An hour passed quickly.
"I'm starting to suspect you're trying to murder a Muggle-born witch," Hermione joked lightly. "This place is so secretive—and I couldn't even fight back."
"That's not funny," Malfoy replied with a shrug. "I've got my own headache about my parents' ideas."
"Oh, we're nearly there," he added, feeling the passage begin to slope upwards.
After another ten minutes, they reached an old stone staircase leading upwards into darkness.
"Knock, knock," Malfoy said, tapping twice on a trapdoor above before pushing it open.
"Careful, we're in the cellar," he whispered.
He climbed up first, then offered his hand to Hermione and pulled her through.
The cellar was filled with tables and chairs, the floor thick with dust. The trapdoor blended almost perfectly with the floorboards—if they hadn't seen it open, they would never have guessed it was there.
"So, how do we get out now?" Hermione asked. "We'll be taken for thieves."
"You don't need to worry about that," Malfoy said, already heading for the stairs.
"I think you've lost your mind," Hermione muttered, pressing a hand to her forehead. She could already imagine both Slytherin and Gryffindor losing twenty—no, fifty—points each. "I'm just an accomplice; he should lose more."
Before she could continue fretting, a cheerful voice rang out.
"Oh, little Draco! What are you doing here?"
Hermione blinked. "No wonder he's so familiar with this place," she thought.
"Just out for a bit of fun on Halloween, Auntie Ambrosius," Malfoy said smoothly.
"So it is little Malfoy!" A middle-aged man appeared beside the woman. "Thanks to your idea last time, we made quite a profit!"
"But you'd better stay inside this shop," Ambrosius warned with a chuckle. "You're only a first-year, aren't you? You'll lose points if you're caught. The other shopkeepers wouldn't be as forgiving as we are."
"Of course. I sneaked out this time—and even brought a burden with me," Malfoy teased.
"Let's see…" The man's eyes landed on Hermione. "Oh! Bringing a little girlfriend to play on Halloween—how romantic. Don't worry, we'll treat you well. We just got a new batch of sweets today. Want to try some?"
"I'm not his girlfriend!" Hermione said firmly, enunciating every word.
"I understand, I understand," Ambrosius said with a wink. "You young people use different terms these days. We old folks can't keep up with your nicknames."
Running off to Hogsmeade on Halloween night—it was hard to believe their excuse.
"Alright, enough chatter. Show us around," Malfoy cut in quickly, sensing Hermione's growing irritation.
"Then you must see our newest goods," Ambrosius said enthusiastically. "Hard to transport, these are. If it weren't for the profits from last time, we wouldn't have managed it."
Honeydukes wasn't particularly large, but every inch of space was crammed with colourful sweets. Rows of shelves glistened under the soft lantern light.
There were slabs of butterscotch, glowing pink coconut ice, neat rows of chocolate in every imaginable form, barrels of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, tubs of Fizzing Whizbees, and floating sherbet fountains.
Along another wall were "special-effect" candies—Drooble's Best Blowing Gum (which filled rooms with bluebell-coloured bubbles that lasted for days), splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, fiery Pepper Imps, squeaky Ice Mice, and creamy Toffee Éclairs shaped like toads ("They actually hop in your stomach!"), brittle Sugar Quills, and Exploding Bonbons.
Hermione was mesmerised. The sweets in the Muggle world suddenly felt terribly dull in comparison.
"Just looking won't satisfy your appetite," Ambrosius said, handing each of them a Fizzing Whizbee. "Try these—they're lovely."
"But we haven't paid yet," Hermione protested.
"Draco already settled it, didn't he?" Ambrosius said with a grin.
Hermione shot Malfoy a questioning look.
"Just take it. I'll explain later," he said.
"Alright then…" Hermione accepted the sweet reluctantly.
It turned out, once again, that one should never underestimate the power of sugar. For humans—especially girls—its allure ran deep in the genes.
"Feeling better?" Malfoy asked after finishing his.
"Mm…" Hermione nodded lightly.
"How about taking some back to school?"
"I can't eat that much," Hermione pouted.
"Not even for your two friends?"
"They're not my friends!" she burst out, her irritation returning.
"Still upset?" Malfoy asked calmly. "Let's make a bet—if you attend the Halloween feast tonight, I guarantee they'll apologise."
"Really?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.
"See? You still care about them," Malfoy said with a faint smile.
Hermione's expression froze. "You're trying to trick me again."
In the end, the bet went nowhere, but Hermione seemed to take his words to heart.
"Gryffindor courage should include admitting mistakes," Malfoy said lightly. "Like when you apologised to me."
"If you hand out these sweets, they'll probably be speechless."
Hermione giggled, picturing Harry and Ron's faces.
"Alright," she said finally, "I'll believe you—just this once." Realising her tone was too soft, she straightened, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her mood.
"Oh, it's getting late," Malfoy said, glancing out the window where the sun was sinking. "We should head back."
"What?" Hermione's eyes widened, a hint of panic setting in.
"Don't worry," Malfoy said. "Everyone's busy celebrating. No one will notice a few missing students."
He grabbed several types of sweets from the counter and a few from a wooden barrel, handing them to Ambrosius.
"Would you like more of this one?" he asked, pointing at Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.
"Yes, I think my parents would like it too," Hermione replied automatically. Then she blinked. "No—we really should go! If we're caught, we'll lose points!" The rule-abiding student in her had returned.
"Is this what happens when you've untied a knot in your heart?" Malfoy teased.
"Come on, let's go," he said, handing her the wrapped sweets.
"Thank you for your business, sir," he said politely to Ambrosius.
"Be careful on the way back! The road's rough!" the man called.
"Of course," Malfoy replied, and descended into the cellar once again, with Hermione following close behind.
As they retraced their steps, Hermione asked in the darkness, "I didn't get to ask earlier—how are you so familiar with that shopkeeper?"
"When I came here before, I gave him a few tips for selling to Muggles. There's something called—ah, yes—hunger marketing. Looks like it worked. He's made a lot of money, so he didn't charge me."
"How old were you when that happened?" Hermione asked, incredulous.
"Sometimes you can't measure wisdom by age," Malfoy replied, tapping his temple though she likely couldn't see it.
"Why weren't you sorted into Ravenclaw, you know-it-all?" Hermione muttered.
"Are you thinking that if I were in Ravenclaw, we'd be closer?" he said lightly.
"What are you talking about!" Hermione's face flushed red, though the darkness hid it.
"Just joking," Malfoy said.
Still, his words lingered in Hermione's mind. It would be nice if he were a Ravenclaw, she thought, then quickly patted her cheeks.
It had to be admitted—their encounters had changed her view of Malfoy. They even made her reflect on the mistakes she'd made when they first met, strengthening her resolve to make Harry and Ron apologise to him.
"What am I thinking?" she muttered, shaking the thought away.
"I think we're nearly back," Malfoy said, feeling the tunnel level out.
Before long, a faint light appeared ahead—the exit beneath the one-eyed witch.
Malfoy climbed out first, scanned the corridor to make sure it was empty, and gestured for Hermione to follow.
"The party's about to start," he said. "Harry and Ron are probably looking for you to apologise. Go on, quickly."
"Thank you… for everything today," Hermione said softly.
"It's nothing," Malfoy replied.
"So, this counts as resolving the troll incident, right?" he murmured, watching her walk away. He let out a long sigh of relief.
The next step should be simple: the three would reconcile, and Hermione's affection for him would grow.
"I've been gone long enough. Best get back before anyone notices," he muttered, turning towards the Slytherin common room.
But as he lifted his foot to move, he froze.
A pair of cold, sharp eyes met his.
"This is bad," Malfoy thought, feeling the creeping malice of the world close in around him.
In front of him stood a girl, arms crossed, a sneer curling her lips.