Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Secret of the Marauder's Map
"Put it on," Draco said simply, placing the shimring, light fabric in her hands.
"Invisibility Cloaks are truly amazing." Hermione exclaid, touching it. "They always feel smooth, like they're woven from water..."
"The raw materials aren't as simple as water—they're made from Demiguise hair. The entire body of the Demiguise is covered in these long, fine, silky, shimring silver hairs," Draco said. Seeing Hermione's curious look, he casually pulled a book from the shelf to show her. "Look, this is what they look like."
Hermione took the book and saw the illustrated description of the Demiguise.
It was a gentle, peaceful herbivore that looked sowhat like an ape, with a pair of large, black eyes often hidden in its hair.
"Their eyes have a kind of elegance, and a kind of sadness," she comnted. "I bet they'd rather hide themselves than be captured by people."
"This explains why Invisibility Cloaks are so rare and expensive..." Draco said noncommittally. "Rarity makes them precious."
"I'm starting to hate myself," Hermione suddenly said.
"What makes you say that?" he asked in surprise.
"I've discovered my own hypocrisy. On one hand, I feel that the process of making Invisibility Cloaks is cruel, but on the other hand, I need to use one to escape my predicant." Hermione sighed softly.
"I'm afraid I should advise you to prioritize pragmatism," Draco said, glancing at the clock that was about to strike eight. "We were having such a good ti that we were a little late. You heard the noise outside, didn't you? After all this trouble hiding for so long, it's not worth getting caught in the end."
Hermione pursed her lips and nodded, knowing he was right.
So she frowned and tried to put on the Invisibility Cloak to hide herself.
However, everything was difficult at the beginning. It was her first ti wearing one on her own, and she clearly wasn't very skilled at it. She didn't know how to tie the fastenings, and either her hair or her feet were showing.
"May I?" the boy stepped forward and asked casually.
"All right," she said awkwardly, glancing at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, as he reached out to adjust the Invisibility Cloak clasp at her collar.
Draco's gaze remained fixed on her throat. Only now could he be absolutely certain there were no marks on her neck.
He didn't stop, gently tying a slipknot at her neckline, and whispered, "I'm sorry."
"Why?" She looked at him, puzzled.
"Did it hurt when I grabbed you yesterday?" he asked softly, a hint of regret in his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you—"
"It's all right," she said casually, glancing at his tightly pursed lips. "Thinking back now, I realize I was wrong too. Impersonating soone else... it's not exactly sothing to be proud of. In your eyes, I must have seed very suspicious back then."
"A little," he said. At that ti, he'd even had a bout of paranoia.
"You really startled . Are you always this rough with others?" Hermione frowned and looked deeply into his eyes. "I've never seen you like this before."
"No. I'm not usually this bad," he said, lowering his eyes and avoiding her gaze.
He wasn't usually this extre. But he was always ready to go this extre, or even worse.
He couldn't control himself. He always felt insecure.
If Hermione had the chance to ask Blaise, she'd know that Draco Malfoy always kept his wand under his pillow.
If anyone were to approach him in his sleep, he'd rcilessly cast a hex and send them flying. Therefore, no one in Slytherin dared trespass into his dormitory.
Even privileged individuals like Blaise and Theodore, who occasionally had access to his dormitory, dared not disturb him during his sleep.
But how did she end up kneeling in front of him? Draco wondered in surprise.
He'd been completely unaware and had no sense of crisis whatsoever.
He loosened the Invisibility Cloak clasp he'd tied with both hands, raised his eyes, and secretly studied her, observing this girl with an innocent face.
"All right, thank you," she said happily, pulling her hood down to hide her innocent and lively face in the air. "Let's go!"
Draco put aside his doubts for the ti being, knowing he couldn't waste any more ti.
He calmly walked out of his dormitory and down the stairs to the common room—the early-rising Slytherin students imdiately made him realize the necessity of the Invisibility Cloak.
He gestured with his chin toward Pansy Parkinson, who was flipping through the latest issue of Witch Weekly in the corner, then whistled at Slytherin Chaser Adrian Pucey, who was slumped in an armchair, and patted the shoulder of the swaying, hungover Slytherin Beater Peregrine Derrick...
Thanks to Hermione Granger, what was usually a trivial daily greeting turned into an exceptionally dangerous experience. Draco, trying to remain calm, walked out of their sight without looking to the side.
With his heart pounding, he quickly opened the common room door, gently helped the invisible girl across the threshold, and together they slipped out of the Slytherin common room without incident.
Hermione's face turned deathly pale.
As she walked out of the Slytherin common room, she suddenly realized that her "Polyjuice Potion plan" had been full of flaws.
If Draco hadn't found her yesterday, she'd have had countless opportunities to be caught by any of the Slytherin students.
Not only because of the star-studded Pansy Parkinson who was about to return to the common room, but also because she didn't know how to open the door to the Slytherin common room to get out—its structure was different from the Gryffindor common room, and its chanism was quite different from the Fat Lady's portrait.
She'd got in purely by luck. She'd followed Marcus Flint in, knowing he was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team—she often saw him when she watched Draco's training. But she wasn't always so lucky as to follow soone in ti and find the right exit to get out.
She could already imagine the embarrassing scene that would unfold when the potion wore off, leaving her blocked by that door, helplessly reverting to a Gryffindor student, and being caught red-handed by a malicious Slytherin student.
It would likely be a huge scandal.
Draco was right about what he'd said to scare her yesterday. Professor Snape might use this as an excuse to dock fifty or even five hundred points from Gryffindor.
While silently thanking rlin for letting the platinum-haired boy find her in ti and save her from danger, she took off her Invisibility Cloak and returned it to him behind a hidden wizard statue.
Draco quickly folded the object into a small bundle and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his robes, continuing to follow her at a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
In fact, it wasn't a short distance—he followed her to the portrait of the Fat Lady of Gryffindor until he lazily stopped.
"I can co back by myself," Hermione said awkwardly.
After removing the Invisibility Cloak, they didn't make eye contact or touch each other.
But every ti Hermione went up the stairs, she could see his platinum blonde hair flashing past on the lower stairs—he was following her at a leisurely pace.
"I have to make sure you get back to the Gryffindor common room safely. If anyone finds out you sneaked into my room and then disappeared, Professor McGonagall might think I'm so kind of kidnapper," Draco said slowly, giving her a mischievous look with his grey eyes.
"All right." Her face flushed red at the ntion of "kidnapper" in his words, and she could only clear her throat. "Then, I'll go back."
"Tell Harry all our deductions, all right? He's been looking rather listless ever since Justin Finch-Fletchley's accident," Draco instructed her.
"Of course! Don't worry—he'll be happy to hear about our progress," Hermione said smugly.
Draco was sowhat pleased by this lively expression. Even the thought of staying up all night didn't seem so annoying anymore.
"Are you going in or not?" the Fat Lady in the portrait asked Hermione impatiently, adjusting the pile of Christmas presents in front of her. "Don't keep from opening my presents!"
"All right, I'm going back now." Hermione waved shyly to Draco again and said goodbye in a low voice.
Draco was in a good mood today.
He retraced his steps, intending to walk down from Gryffindor Tower and stroll leisurely to the Great Hall for breakfast, unaware that he was humming a soft tune to himself.
But after taking only a few steps, he was "kidnapped" by the Weasley twins, who were wearing identical jumpers, who suddenly appeared from behind him.
"Give a break! Give so privacy!" the Fat Lady yelled behind them. "First thing in the morning! And it's Christmas! One by one, they're trying to peek at what gifts I received. Don't think I don't know! I've had enough..."
"Forget it!" Fred shouted back at her. "We know which portrait's backdrop you nicked the gift boxes from!"
"Nonsense! You're just jealous!" the Fat Lady retorted.
"Be careful we don't tell them to take these boxes away!" Fred added mischievously, finally silencing the nagging, complaining Fat Lady.
"I bet she won't stay quiet for long. She'll be looking for the next person to show off to," George said, winking at a surprised Draco. "She does this every Christmas."
The three looked at each other and couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Speaking of which," Fred asked with a knowing smile after a mont of laughter, "we just saw Hermione Granger, a second-year, saying a tearful goodbye to you in front of the Fat Lady—"
"Dating at such a young age... and it's progressing so fast..." George said to his brother with a mischievous grin. "Look at him! And look at you!"
"What are you talking about? We're friends!" Draco stopped laughing, a faint blush rising on his pale face. "Why should I listen to your nonsense on Christmas morning?"
"It was just a joke—don't take it seriously." The twin brothers exchanged a knowing glance and smiled.
Draco, seeing them suppressing their laughter, felt a surge of wariness. "What are you trying to do? I'm warning you—don't spread rumors about the little girl."
"Of course. Who would dare ss with Hermione Granger? Wouldn't they be Petrified by her?" Fred shuddered, then grinned. "We just wanted to express our gratitude to you."
The two brothers pulled out two identical burgundy dragon-hide bags and flashed him big smiles. "The best Christmas presents we've ever received!"
Draco knew the twins had long coveted these expandable, large-capacity dragon-hide bags. They'd help them carry their various supplies more easily.
While ordinary small bags could certainly be expanded using Extension Charms, they weren't as durable as dragon hide. Moreover, items made of dragon hide were often quite expensive.
Despite having Draco's investnt, the Weasley brothers always kept their finances strictly separate, never using the money from the joke shop for themselves. Therefore, for them at this stage, buying a miniature dragon-hide bag was still a bit of a luxury.
The Weasley brothers might appear carefree and irreverent, but they were quite principled at heart. Draco gradually ca to understand this through his interactions with them.
He appreciated this principle.
Especially given the Weasleys' limited finances—he'd occasionally overhear Ron complaining to Harry about his old wand, secondhand books, and his brother's hand--down rat.
"You're welco. Using them properly is the greatest thanks you can give ." Draco put his hands in his robe pockets and continued down the stairs. "By the way, your products have been selling well lately. Even the Slytherin girls are buying Fainting Fancies."
"Yeah, I didn't realize that Puking Pastilles were so popular among girls," Fred said.
"The custor survey you suggested we send out last ti has been returned. Can you believe it? Ninety percent of the female custors replied that they eat the Puking Pastilles to lose weight," George said, spreading his hands comically.
"Weight loss? Are there side effects?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Of course! If you keep vomiting, the stomach acid will burn your esophagus and trachea." George shook his head.
"Print so words on the packaging of Puking Pastilles—'Vomiting for weight loss, harmful to your health,'" Draco said.
"Naive!" Fred rolled his eyes.
"Draco, you know we can't control that much. As long as there's a market for it, we can't stop it." George looked at Draco suspiciously. "Besides, would you be so kind? Has the ruthless capitalist changed his ways? Moreover, those girls won't care what you say. As long as it's effective for weight loss, they won't stop."
"I really didn't intend for them not to eat it," Draco said calmly. "It's just a disclair, you understand? We've put it in black and white. Whether the custors listen or not is their business. In short, we're not responsible for any health problems they experience."
"Sure enough, you're still a wicked capitalist at heart," Fred said with a grin. "However, I like your frankness—it's much more interesting than those hypocritical capitalists."
"Inventions always have two sides," Draco said. "We can't ignore their positive effects just because they have negative ones. Also, Fred, how about developing a new product? Sothing to relieve burns in the trachea and esophagus? Can you do that?"
"No problem. I think I can do it," Fred said easily. "In fact, I've already started working on it."
"Great. Once it's successfully developed, let's sell it together with Puking Pastilles," Draco said.
George grinned. "That's a good idea—the witches will love it."
"That reminds ," Draco recalled that in his previous life, the Weasley brothers' joke shop had a large section specifically for witches.
Clearly, their products were very popular with witches.
"When the shop opens, maybe we can consider products that witches like: acne treatnts, magical costics, love potions..." Draco said seriously, counting on his fingers.
"Good idea. Girls will do anything for beauty..." Fred said casually, putting his arm around Draco's shoulder. "Sotis, I think you're really sothing. What twelve-year-old boy could co up with these ideas?"
Draco paused for a mont as he went down the stairs.
"Oh," he said casually, in a tone that sounded like he was talking about the weather, "maybe doing business is my talent, just like joke products are yours."
"That makes sense." Fred made a face, reluctantly accepting his explanation. He pulled Draco toward the fourth floor, saying enthusiastically, "We've already checked out that shop, and it seed pretty good—"
"It just requires so work on the renovations. I think you'll have to go and see the place in person, and maybe sign a contract with the owner while you're at it," George added.
"? How can I go?" Draco said. "That passageway you ntioned last ti is completely unworkable—"
"That passageway recently collapsed. But don't worry—take a look at our Christmas present first." Fred pulled Draco past a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch and into an empty classroom to the left of the statue.
Fred cautiously peeked into the corridor, glancing left and right before alertly closing the door. Then, with exaggerated movents, he pulled sothing from his pocket and solemnly placed it on the table.
It was a large, blank square of parchnt. Draco noticed that it was badly worn, sowhat tattered, and clearly quite old.
Draco didn't act rashly. He seriously suspected this was yet another prank by the Weasley twins.
"Draco, the secret to our success lies here," George said, stroking the parchnt with affection.
"We really hate to give it to you," Fred said with a smile. "But we decided a long ti ago that you need it more than we do."
"We've morized it all anyway," George said nonchalantly. "Now we're passing it on to you formally—we don't need it anymore."
Draco stared at the silent parchnt, utterly bewildered.
The next ten minutes were ten minutes that shocked his worldview.
George and Fred explained how they'd got the parchnt from Filch's drawer when they were in first year. Then they demonstrated how to use this magical item called the "Marauder's Map."
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" Fred pointed his wand at the parchnt, and ink lines began extending, revealing everything before his eyes.
"Wait—isn't this Hogwarts?" Draco exclaid.
That's amazing!
This map was depicting all the details of Hogwarts Castle and its grounds, as well as the nas of everyone who was in it.
"That's right!" The twin brothers exchanged a glance and said smugly.
Most importantly, when Draco looked closely, he also discovered several passages leading to Hogsade.
"This is—" Draco looked up at the twin brothers in surprise.
"That's right—secret passages." George pointed to the routes and said, "There are seven in total. Filch knows four of them, and only we know the other three... The passage with the mirror on the fifth floor that we told you about before has collapsed, and the Whomping Willow passage is also unusable... But! The one leading to Honeydukes's cellar is still usable. The entrance is right outside the classroom, by the one-eyed witch's hump."
"That's brilliant!" Draco exclaid in amazent.
"We've tried it several tis," George said cheerfully. "Thanks to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."
"Don't forget to say 'Mischief managed' after you're done," Fred winked at Draco. "See you at Honeydukes next Saturday—"
"Disguise yourself a bit—don't let anyone find out you're a second-year," George reminded him.
Draco's bewildered expression amused the twins greatly. Then, arm in arm, they walked out of the classroom, satisfied. "Have fun!" they said, turning back to him with smiles.
Draco had no ti for them—this Marauder's Map was fascinating.
He could see that the area around his na was gradually becoming empty.
The nas of the Weasley twins followed the footprints toward the Entrance Hall.
He could also clearly see that Hermione's na was in the girls' dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, and not far from her, Harry and Ron's nas were in the Gryffindor common room.
"A salute to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," he murmured.
For the next few days, Draco was imrsed in the novelty of the Marauder's Map.
Herpo's notebooks had fallen out of favor. His investigation into the feud between Colin Creevey and Filch had hit a dead end. And even his usual forte, Wizard's Chess, had failed to pique his interest.
"What exactly does he do every day?" Blaise asked Pansy coldly in the Slytherin common room.
He'd excitedly set up the chess pieces, only to be t with Draco's callous "I have other things to do" and a hurried departure, which infuriated him.
"Forget it—ignore him. I'll play Wizard's Chess with you." Pansy tossed Witch Weekly aside and glanced at him.
"Who wants to play chess with a girl? It's no fun at all," he said dismissively, glancing at her.
"I bet you're too scared! You're afraid I'll slaughter you without leaving a trace, aren't you?" Pansy gave him a disdainful look.
"What's there to be afraid of?" Blaise sneered. "Do you think I'm afraid of you? Don't cry when you lose!"
"Oh, that's spirited! If you lose, you'll have to call 'big sister,' all right?" Pansy said with a mischievous smile.
Draco remained unmoved by the tense atmosphere between Blaise and Pansy.
His favorite thing to do now was to look at the map all day long.
The entire school seed to be under his control, and secrets could not be hidden from him.
This feeling of being in control was the strongest psychological comfort for soone who lacked a sense of security about everything.
He could see everything.
Irma Pince and Poppy Pomfrey's nas occasionally appeared at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop in Hogsade, sitting together—he'd had no idea they were friends.
It was nothing new that Crabbe and Goyle's nas frequently appeared in the Great Hall—they were probably feasting again.
There were also several couples who frequently hung out together: Percy Weasley of Gryffindor and Penelope Clearwater of Ravenclaw; Stebbins of Hufflepuff and Fawcett of Ravenclaw; even Blaise and Pansy were often alone together, and no one knew what they were doing... There were countless such bits of gossip, keeping Draco busy.
Besides gossip, so old mysteries that had troubled him for years were finally solved.
The Head of House's na appeared in the staff bathroom at a fixed ti each week. This proved that, although infrequently, Professor Snape did indeed shower and wash his hair.
And so trivial things that bothered him.
For example, he could see that Argus Filch's na lingered sowhere in the third-floor corridor, and he guessed that Mr. Squib was sitting in that chair again, glaring fiercely at every passing student, hoping to catch the "culprit" who'd hurt his beloved pet.
Unfortunately, the location of the Chamber of Secrets wasn't shown on this map, and the Basilisk was nowhere to be found. These skilled cartographers were probably not from Slytherin—they were unaware of the Chamber of Secrets.
One morning, Draco had just woken up and, as usual, lay on his bed in his dormitory, studying with great interest the nas of people on the map beside his bed.
His gaze casually swept over the almost overlapping nas of Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, then glanced at the nas of the Weasley twins who appeared in the Hogwarts kitchens, and then inexplicably noticed that the nas of the Grey Lady and Luna Lovegood lingered together, as if they were talking.
"The Grey Lady can make friends now?" Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise.
He turned his gaze to check on Gryffindor Tower, but was suddenly stunned by a na that appeared on the map.
"Peter Pettigrew," he murmured the na as if it weren't real.
Is this possible?
How could a wizard who'd been dead in the public eye for many years walk out of the Hogwarts common room and onto the road to the Great Hall, while still being associated with the nas Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?
He leapt out of bed, hastily threw on a shirt and robes, and rushed to the Hall as fast as he could.
Peter Pettigrew was still there.
Before entering the Hall, Draco checked the map again, and Peter Pettigrew remained motionless at the dining table.
Could it be that he's going to have breakfast? That's unbelievable.
Draco put the Marauder's Map in his pocket, gripped his wand tightly, and hurried into the Hall, desperately trying to appear calm.
Peter Pettigrew was a treacherous and disgusting Death Eater who'd betrayed his friends, but was also a key figure in helping the Dark Lord resurrect.
We must catch him.
It's like a gift from rlin! I was just worried about where to find him, and now he's walked right into my trap, Draco thought excitedly.
Draco had truly got to know Peter Pettigrew when they'd worked together under the Dark Lord.
Draco had no idea where he'd lived or what he'd been doing for the past ten years or so.
Perhaps now was the only ti Draco might have any interaction with him.
But the scene before him sent chills down Draco's spine.
Peter Pettigrew did not appear. It was still early, and the Great Hall was empty. Draco could clearly see that only Harry and Ron were at the Gryffindor table.
Draco completely lost control of his facial expression.
He rushed over to Harry and Ron, staring in disbelief as they gulped down milk, montarily speechless.
"Oh, good morning, Draco." Draco's expression was so horrifying and abnormal that Harry couldn't help but look down to check his clothes. Finding everything normal, he greeted him with a hint of doubt.
"Good morning." Draco snapped out of his daze, forcefully suppressing his ferocious expression. "I'd like to ask—were you with anyone in the Hall just now?"
"It's just the two of us." Ron looked up from among ten fried eggs, giving him a questioning look. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Draco said. He was so distraught that he even forgot the Slytherin table wasn't there, and sat down directly opposite them, staring at them intently.
Could it be Polyjuice Potion? He wondered with suspicion.
No.
If Peter Pettigrew were impersonating Harry or Ron, then there'd be two nas on the map instead of three, thus refuting that conjecture.
However, judging from Harry and Ron's calm and composed deanor, they didn't seem to be lying.
If Peter Pettigrew were to appear at Hogwarts right now, the atmosphere wouldn't be so quiet and peaceful, but rather a commotion.
After all, in the wizards' eyes, he was already dead.
Is the map broken? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, is there sothing wrong with your map?
"Draco, what are you doing at the Gryffindor table?" Just as he was deep in thought, Hermione strode down next to him, bringing a gust of cool air. She was looking at him curiously, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold wind.
"Oh, I just ca to say hello," Draco said dejectedly.
Hermione tilted her head to look at him, her bright eyes scanning Draco's clothes, and then she suddenly smiled.
"I bet you were in a huge rush this morning. Your collar's all crooked." She casually reached out and straightened Draco's collar, nodding in satisfaction. "That's much better now."
Draco stood there dumbfounded, letting her tighten the loose Slytherin tie around his neck, until she lowered her hand and he realized what had happened.
This level of intimacy... he was a little dazed, and hurriedly thanked her with his ears turning red.
"You two finally made up?" Harry's erald green eyes darted over them through his glasses as he asked with a smile.
"Oh, Harry, I don't understand what you're talking about." Hermione said cheerfully, starting to spread butter on her toast. "When did we ever have a fight?"
"Oh, yes... So, the person who spent a month brewing Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was ?" Ron said incredulously. "Girls are terrible! So fickle."
Hermione frowned and glared at him. Ron quickly lowered his head and secretly made a face at Harry, who chuckled to himself.
Draco couldn't help but look her over and raise an eyebrow at her.
Hermione, she's so clever—she actually thought of going there to brew potions.
"Want so?" Hermione handed him a piece of toast sared with butter and poured him a glass of pumpkin juice. "Have so?"
"Oh, thank you." He took a hesitant bite of toast, his mind reeling.
Should I continue thinking about Peter Pettigrew's problem, or should I think about sothing else?
Is she taking care of ?
All in all, the toast today was quite delicious. Do the house-elves also know how to play favorites, putting the best toast and butter on the Gryffindor table?
I'll have to ask Winky next ti... he thought doubtfully, taking another bite of toast.
"I have to say, I think your guesses are quite possible." Harry looked around and lowered his voice to Draco. "We asked around, and it seems quite a few Gryffindor students were caught by him around that ti."
"Slytherins too." Draco forced himself to focus on the conversation in front of him. "I made a list, marking out the possible candidates. Hermione—"
"Ah, here they are. Yours, Harry's, and I've inquired with Susan Bones about suspicious Hufflepuff characters," Hermione said smugly, shaking the parchnts. "I'm going to compile them today."
"Also, I asked Ginny—she's Colin Creevey's Charms partner," Ron said. "According to her, Colin hasn't offended anyone."
"Are you sure we can just ask her?" Hermione asked doubtfully. "She seems distracted lately, probably terrified by what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. What if she's forgotten so details? Should we ask a few more of Colin's classmates for cross-verification?"
"Hermione, my sister is the smartest kid in the family! She's been acting a bit scared lately because she was overly frightened by George and Fred. I believe she's said everything she needs to say!" Ron said, frowning. "If you're not sure, you can always ask soone else yourself."
How could Ron, that git, talk to her like that?
Draco was a little annoyed.
He was about to interject when Hermione beat him to it. "Of course I'll find soone else myself! I'm just as worried about Ginny as you are! But only by finding clues and solving the problem can she stop being afraid, right?"
Draco was slightly surprised. Hermione, when she's with Harry and Ron, is surprisingly assertive and persuasive.
He seed to have no need to worry about her suffering any losses.
"That's true." Ron's tone softened. "Sorry, I've been a bit down lately. You know, one thing after another has happened in the Chamber. Ginny's been crying every day, and my rat has been a bit listless lately. I almost couldn't find him a few days ago..."
"It's all right. I'll talk to Ginny too, give her so encouragent and stuff. So things are easier for girls to talk about." Hermione said magnanimously, glancing at her list the whole ti, as if the argunt was no big deal.
Her eyes were fixed on the list. Now, she sighed with worry, "Only Ravenclaw is missing."
A hush fell over the table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged bewildered glances.
No one had any connections with Ravenclaw students.
"My dormmate Parvati has a sister in Ravenclaw, but we're not that close. And she's always so gossipy, always asking questions—I'm afraid she'll tell everyone..." Hermione hesitated. "Unless we're absolutely desperate, it's best to—"
"Well, perhaps I can give it a try," Draco said, swallowing a bite of toast. "I have so special connections."
Based on the information on the Marauder's Map, he could probably ask the Grey Lady to inquire with her new friend, Luna Lovegood.
"Oh, Draco, that's wonderful!" Hermione smiled at him cheerfully, her eyes sparkling. "I'm starting to really like your special connections!"
Draco smiled slightly.
"And how do we get rid of that Basilisk?" Harry said. "Hagrid's roosters are all dead—where are we going to find new ones? Besides the crowing of roosters, is there any other way to subdue it? Are there any spells or anything like that?"
"I have absolutely no clue about this," Draco said. "Dealing with a monster of this size is almost unthinkable. Only a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore could probably handle it, so you must not act rashly. I suspect even spells might not work—its hide is probably very thick. You'll have to find its weak point."
Harry fell into deep thought.
"How about we try to find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?" Ron said. "If we can seal that entrance, the monster won't be able to get out, and Hogwarts will be safe, won't it?"
"Your thinking is very clear, Ron," Draco praised Ron, raising his eyebrows. He'd been observing Ron throughout the conversation and hadn't noticed anything unusual so far.
Ron blushed and said to Draco, "I'm sorry—what I said about Slytherin before didn't actually include you... Anyway, don't mind it..."
Draco took a sip of juice and waved his hand. "I've long forgotten."
He'd been busy arguing with Hermione at the ti and had no idea what anyone else had said.
Ron was relieved. He took his beloved rat out of his pocket, then pulled out a delicate little white bottle, and said to Draco, "Thank you for the Rat Tonic. Scabbers hasn't been very energetic since winter. I'll feed him so now..."
Ron seed perfectly normal. At least neither Harry nor Hermione noticed anything amiss with him.
There was no indication that any invisible person was coercing him. Draco's gaze swept over Ron, a mixture of confusion and unease in his eyes.
The Great Hall gradually filled with more students.
At that mont, at the Slytherin table, Crabbe called out to him, "Draco, Pansy asked to call you over to be a witness! A once-in-a-century event!"
Draco slightly raised his chin at him, indicating that he'd be there soon.
rlin! Draco looked gloomy. I'm burdened with many vexing mysteries, yet entangled in trivial matters, and sighed wearily.
"Then I'll be going now." He took a deep breath and said as gently as possible to the girl who was studying the list with her head down, "I'll give you the list as soon as possible, all right?"
"All right." Hermione looked up and smiled at him.
Her eyes finally left the parchnt—watching the platinum blonde disappear back into the silver-green sea—and unusually, she no longer paid attention to the nas.
Draco, she thought, he's always been very popular with the Slytherins.
Those arrogant and indifferent Slytherins would always call on him for anything.
In the Slytherin common room, this feeling of "he was popular" was even more pronounced. All sorts of people were willing to greet him. No matter how arrogant or aloof soone was at Hogwarts, they all seed to have a good relationship with him.
She seed to be gradually understanding why he was so popular. He appeared aloof, but he was very reliable.
It seed she could always count on him to cover for her if there was anything she couldn't do herself.
For example, the Ravenclaw list. Just when she was struggling with this, he'd thought for a mont, then accepted the task, casually saying he could get it.
He might be the kind of person who quietly accomplished great things. She stared intently at his back and couldn't help but have this thought.
Draco strolled leisurely to a corner of the Slytherin table, where he heard Pansy proudly announce to everyone, "Blaise is going to call 'big sister' in front of everyone—he lost his Wizard's Chess ga to !"
"Please, I only lost one ga, but we played a hundred!" Blaise said in disbelief.
"When you made the agreent with , you didn't say how many rounds would be the maximum, or how many wins would count!" Pansy said with a sly grin. "Co on, call 'big sister'!"
"Impossible! Absolutely not!" Blaise said in a flustered manner, his usual arrogant deanor completely ruined by Pansy, this "unreasonable and haughty girl."
"What is all this? Is it worth the trip? Crabbe, you be their witness," Draco said lazily, deciding not to get involved.
He shook his head, ignoring the bickering of the two. He found an empty seat and quietly pulled out the map from his robes to look at it.
Peter Pettigrew's na still stood arrogantly beside the Gryffindor table, almost overlapping with Ron Weasley's na.
That's so strange.
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