Chapter Nine: He and She Together Fly
Draco's eagle owl was probably the most frequent guest at the entire Slytherin table.
Almost every few days, he would receive sothing from his mother—sweets, chocolate, or so trendy little gadgets that Narcissa thought her precious son could use.
But today, Draco, whose expression was usually calm and expressionless, showed an unusual hint of joy after opening the exquisite silver package. Inside was sothing he'd been longing for—an Invisibility Cloak.
After returning from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions last ti, he'd imitated his mother's handwriting and ordered the item from the shop, paying a large sum of Galleons for it.
Draco hadn't bought the Invisibility Cloak intending to use it every day, but rather as a precaution. Invisibility Cloaks available on the market required many rare materials to make, and their drawback was obvious—they had a limited number of uses. After prolonged use, they gradually lost their invisibility effect and beca just ordinary cloaks.
It wasn't that Draco couldn't use the Disillusionnt Charm. In his previous life, Draco had already mastered it, but it was unreliable and he wasn't very proficient at it. Besides, the spell had a ti limit.
Before you fully mastered the Disillusionnt Charm, an Invisibility Cloak could save you a lot of trouble.
Draco didn't want to lose another fifty points for wandering around the school at night. And in so places, it would be safer to go late at night when everyone was asleep.
For example, the Room of Requirent on the eighth floor. Or, for instance, going to the towers at night to get so information out of the ghosts.
At that mont, at the Gryffindor table across the way, Longbottom, looking rather dazed, had once again received a Rembrall from his grandmother, attracting a crowd of Gryffindor first-years. Draco had lost all interest in it and didn't want to embarrass the clumsy boy.
But rlin's will seed very powerful. Even without Draco's interference, the reckless Potter still ignored Madam Hooch's orders and flew after the Rembrall as Professor McGonagall hastily took it away.
That stupid Rembrall! When Longbottom's broom malfunctioned and made him fall from the sky, the Rembrall had fallen out of his pocket and gotten stuck on the roof. The show-off Potter flew over to retrieve it, then dove fifty feet as the Rembrall rolled off the roof, catching it a foot from the ground.
All the first-years were dumbfounded. Then they began to chatter about the spectacle. Draco stood at the back of the crowd, silently watching Potter's small figure disappear into the Hogwarts entrance hall, led by Professor McGonagall.
"Harry won't be expelled, will he?" Hermione appeared beside Draco, asking worriedly. Harry had broken the rules in an undeniable way, and he'd been caught red-handed by the strictest professor.
Ever since taking Draco's flying lesson, Hermione had always instinctively wanted to ask him for advice whenever she was unsure about sothing.
To be fair, what did it matter whether he was a Slytherin or not?
Draco knew many spells and always seed to be in complete control in class. He displayed a calm and collected attitude toward many new things at school, standing out from the "ignorant and shocked faces" of other boys his age. Most importantly, he could always give reliable answers and advice, the most prominent example being what he'd said to her before the Sorting Ceremony.
Compared to him, the other boys always seed silly. It had nothing to do with "which house" they were in, Hermione couldn't help but think.
"I'll wager he won't be punished. Hogwarts is more flexible with its rules than you think," Draco said cryptically. "Think about it another way: Professor McGonagall is a Quidditch enthusiast. And as far as I know, the Gryffindor team is missing a decent Seeker."
"Draco, I don't think you're right this ti! That's impossible—he's too young! And how can soone do sothing wrong and not be punished?" Hermione looked unconvinced. How could even Draco say sothing so unreliable?
By dinner ti, news that Potter had beco the new Seeker for Gryffindor had spread throughout Hogwarts, and even the portraits on the walls were discussing it with great interest.
"I told you so." Draco whispered to Hermione as they passed each other, her mouth agape in disbelief, a faint smile playing on his lips. He was pleased by the dazed look on the Know-It-All's face.
Although his smile was rare and rather handso, she always felt there was a hint of mockery hidden in it.
Hermione sat down at the table, her anger blazing, feeling indignant for the first ti at the fact that "Draco was right." She sat down opposite the cheerful Harry and Ron with a stern face.
Human nature was often strange and unpredictable. When her friend was in danger, she worried and fretted. But when her friend broke the rules and went unpunished, she felt it was unfair.
"So you think breaking the rules is all right?" she said haughtily to Harry. "You could have broken your neck, you know that?"
Harry clearly didn't know how to handle the situation. He was still caught up in the shock and joy of becoming the Seeker.
"Oh, don't be a killjoy. What's it got to do with you?" Ron said dismissively.
"This could get us into trouble, couldn't it? Don't you care about Gryffindor, only about yourselves? I don't want you to lose all the points I earned from Professor McGonagall with my Transfiguration!" Hermione was furious.
"But Harry wasn't expelled, and he beca the youngest mber of the house team in a century. All you care about are your marks! You have no idea what joining the Quidditch team ans!" Ron glared at her—as if she were mad—and angrily dragged Harry away.
Of course she didn't understand! Hermione thought angrily. She didn't want to understand this ridiculous performance of riding around on broomsticks!
Even so, during Draco's second private flying lesson for her, Hermione couldn't help but complain: "I really don't understand why boys beco so unreasonable when it cos to broomsticks and flying."
By now, she was very proficient in the preparatory movents and theoretical knowledge, but she still didn't dare to fly.
The horrific crash Neville Longbottom had suffered during the last flying lesson seed to have left her traumatized. Draco glanced at her. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"
Occasionally, wizards did claim to have acrophobia or even airsickness. But Draco believed that most wizards who feared heights had psychological issues and could overco them through practice.
What's more, this was Hermione Granger, a girl who'd even ridden Gringotts's dragon—that Ukrainian Ironbelly.
Acrophobia? You must be joking.
"I think flying is boring." Hermione pretended to mount her broomstick, head held high, looking extrely proud, but still showed no intention of taking off.
She was just wasting ti babbling on and on—which made Draco a little impatient.
This was flying! Did she even realize what a wonderful experience she was missing out on?
"All right." He stepped forward, swung a leg onto the broom in front of her, and quickly adjusted his position. "Fine. I'll demonstrate for you. Hold on tight."
"What do you want to do—" Hermione had just grabbed his robes when, before she could finish speaking, she felt the broomstick take off into the air. Before she could even prepare herself, a fierce gust of wind swept over her.
And so, he took her soaring into the sky. Suddenly. Without warning. Completely out of the blue.
Her feet left the ground, dangling in midair, becoming unsteady and terrifying.
The air rushed toward her face and body, and now the only reason she hadn't fallen was this broomstick beneath her, which she didn't quite trust.
And was it really safe for two people to ride on the sa broomstick? She couldn't help but worry and clutched his robes tightly.
If Draco knew of her hesitation, he would have told her that under normal circumstances, a broom could only support one adult wizard. But in an ergency, a broom could support two adult wizards, let alone the weight of two underage wizards.
However, these words would have to wait until later. At this mont, Hermione was too frightened to ask any questions. She focused on clutching his robes, imrsed in the tension of her first flight, and frantically realizing that she'd completely lost control of her surroundings.
She was like a feather floating in the air, drifting at his whim, her rise and fall entirely beyond her control.
Amidst the rushing wind, Draco shouted wildly a few tis ahead, seemingly finally experiencing genuine joy. "You have to experience the joy of flying for yourself! That freedom! Otherwise, you'll never understand!"
"No, Draco..." Hermione finally cried out, but the howling wind swallowed her words. She tried to look around—the thick clouds seed both near and far, and the wind blew in from all directions, making her shiver.
Hermione had to admit that she had absolutely no faith in the broomstick. Two months ago, broomsticks had been just cleaning tools to her, but now she was being asked to believe that one could carry people flying.
So she could only turn to the only person in the sky who could give her a sense of security—the one who could control the flight. Her face turned pale, her heart raced, and without thinking, she stretched out her arms and wrapped them around the boy's waist.
That was better, Hermione thought. He seed quite familiar with broomsticks and wasn't afraid of flying at all. If she held on to him, she probably wouldn't fall off.
"Look! Look down!" Draco shouted from the front. "You have to see how beautiful it is!"
Only after he'd reminded her did she dare to look.
Good heavens, they'd flown so high! The Hogwarts grounds had beco a vivid picture beneath her feet, a vast world unlike anything she could see from within them.
The magnificent Hogwarts Castle looked like exquisite building blocks, the towering Gryffindor Tower stood at their feet, and the dense and deep Forbidden Forest resembled a giant head of broccoli... Scenes that could only be glimpsed from windows before were now presented to her without any obstruction, a three-hundred-sixty-degree view without any blind spots.
Then she saw sothing farther away. Rolling mountains and calm, still waters stretched out like a magnificent oil painting, with the sky and earth as its canvas and the contours of the lakes and mountains as its brushstrokes.
They were as insignificant as a drop in the ocean, yet as effortless as mayflies drifting through the vast universe. He rode his broomstick, carrying her leisurely through the beautiful scenery, like two linked shooting stars streaking across the boundless cosmos.
The sight made Hermione forget to breathe, forget her fear. She was overwheld with awe and her heart pounded. At that mont, any words were pale and powerless, unable to describe even a fraction of its magnificence and splendor.
"So beautiful..." she said in a dreamy voice, resting her head on his shoulder and hugging him tightly. He laughed in front of her, and she felt vibrations from deep in his chest.
"Draco, wouldn't this be breaking school rules..." Hermione said with admiration, though her voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. "We need to get down quickly—"
"Give five minutes!" Draco shouted.
rlin! He hadn't flown freely and joyfully for far too long.
Flying was the only thing that could still make him feel emotional. Only the thrill and heartbeat brought by the high altitude could make him feel that he was still truly alive, could make him certain that everything he was experiencing was real, not an illusion.
"Hold on tight!" he suddenly shouted. On a whim, he swooped down with Hermione from the sky, almost vertically, toward the still Black Lake.
Hermione let out her first tiny scream in the air, like a fledgling bird trying to fly for the first ti. She clung to his back, gripping even tighter the only sense of security she could find high in the sky.
The sudden feeling of weightlessness awakened the fear she'd just forgotten, and her heart pounded like a drum. The fierce wind was tearing at her cheeks and hair, and she dared not look around anymore. She could only press her face firmly against his back and neck, avoiding the cold wind and desperately seeking his warmth.
He stood firmly, letting her approach without trembling. Strangely, a refreshing scent like fresh apples wafted from his neck.
Hermione thought she must be going mad, because in the midst of this terrifying, uncertain, and suffocating fall, she actually had the energy to think about other things—she thought the sll was wonderful.
Her scream snapped Draco out of his daze. She was terrified. He skillfully swerved the broom, gliding nimbly across the mirror-like surface of the Black Lake before they plunged headlong into it.
The screams stopped abruptly, but her heart was still pounding.
The wind suddenly softened, and the warm sunlight made one feel sowhat lazy, as if the weightlessness that had just overwheld Hermione had never existed.
But the crisp scent on his neck told her that they had indeed plumted straight down, and it wasn't a fantasy but reality. Besides, at this mont, all her strength had been drained by the screams and the fall.
The Black Lake was still and calm today. At this ti of day, the Black Lake was usually deserted, which was why Draco had felt safe bringing her here to fly.
A gentle breeze caressed their cheeks. "Look at this lake. Isn't it beautiful?" Draco's voice was filled with excitent. The lake shimred beneath their feet, reflecting their image like a bird soaring through the sky.
"Yes, it's beautiful, but I'm worried..." Hermione's voice trembled as she clung to him tightly, afraid that the broom might slip and pull her into the lake.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure nothing happens to you." Noticing the tension in Hermione's movents, he spoke loudly from ahead, then quickly glanced back, only to see her curly brown hair fluttering in the wind.
His voice was clear and bright, carrying an unusual joy. He didn't seem as aloof and proud as usual but rather revealed a touch of genuine childlike innocence. This unusual quality wasn't unpleasant. Hermione cald herself slightly, trying to listen to him and experience the wonderful feeling of flying through the air.
However, due to the lingering effects of the dive, she was still terrified. She simply closed her eyes, clinging to him like a sloth, inhaling his faint, refreshing scent, pretending she was on flat ground, sitting on the back of soone's bicycle or sothing. Her hands remained tightly wrapped around him, not daring to let go for even a mont.
They did fly for only five minutes. But it felt like she'd run a marathon.
When she dismounted, her legs went weak and she almost tripped. So Draco, that infuriating boy, reached out and steadied her.
"Well, little Know-It-All, how was that? Want to try again?" His eyes shone brightly, and the smile on his lips looked both smug and triumphant. Miss Know-It-All's hair seed even more disheveled by the wind, making her look like a little madwoman, which made him smile even wider.
This was the first ti Hermione had seen him smile so joyfully. It was as radiant as the sun, as bright as the stars. She was speechless, montarily dazzled by his captivating smile.
A strange thought inevitably surged in her wildly beating heart: he should smile more.
Of course! Now wasn't the ti to think about this! She quickly ca to her senses and began to get angry in earnest. "You... I'm sure you're breaking the school rules!"
"Nobody saw it anyway," Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "If you obey all the rules, you'll miss all the fun."
"Draco Malfoy, you madman! All boys are crazy when they get on broomsticks!" she snapped at him, overwheld by the lingering fear of flying and the deep turmoil within her.
This crazy boy! She no longer considered him a little gentleman! When he went mad, he was even more outrageous than Harry and Ron...
What was worse, she couldn't explain what it felt like to fly in the air.
Undoubtedly, she hated flying at high altitudes. At tis, she'd felt like being sick. But she didn't hate the feeling of holding him in the air, nor did she hate his scent, nor did she hate the way he smiled at her.
He'd said he wanted to "do it again," and for a mont she'd actually considered whether she should try it again.
But she clearly hated the feeling of flying high in the sky, the fear of being out of control, the emptiness of feeling lost and adrift... so why would she be willing to try it again?
What a chaotic and complex feeling this was!
She stord off, her face flushed. Pretending to be angry at Draco—or perhaps a little irritated by the wind—she was probably actually frightened by her own chaotic emotions.
Good heavens! She hated flying! And this ssed-up mood of hers! It all ca down to the boys being far too obsessed with that stupid broomstick!
That was just a broom!
Who would really believe it could fly?
For the next few days, Hermione was extrely serious and didn't speak to Draco on her own initiative. Draco felt a little regretful. Perhaps he shouldn't have impulsively taken her flying—now one of his few sources of joy at Hogwarts was gone.
He'd been sowhat out of control at that mont. He probably hadn't touched a broomstick or flown properly in a long ti. At that mont, he'd felt a strange surge of excitent, a desire to fly and share that joy with her.
Moreover, he'd maliciously wanted to see her show more of a less "know-it-all" side, to not be so composed, not so rigid, not just living in her comfort zone and ignoring the things that might be dangerous but could also be wonderful.
He always wanted to tease her.
This wasn't a good habit.
Clearly, this approach had been wrong—too simplistic and crude. And she was just a little girl now, far from the brave and fearless Hermione Granger who could withstand his teasing.
He should have been gentler and more patient. Draco glanced at her wistfully. She was preparing potion ingredients with the round-faced Longbottom, her face expressionless, lost in thought.
So Draco had no choice but to temporarily beco potion-making partners with the dull but sowhat intelligent Theodore Nott.
Fortunately, he noticed that she also ignored Potter and Weasley.
In other words, it seed like she didn't want to talk to anyone anymore.
Draco was quite familiar with this cold attitude. Back then, she'd always been wary, defensive, and resentful toward him, often glaring at him as if he were a giant flobberworm.
Compared to that, this wasn't as serious as it had been in his previous life. It was just that she didn't want to talk to him or even make eye contact—Draco comforted himself.
Hermione Granger was indeed in a foul mood. And when Harry's broomstick package landed brazenly on the Gryffindor dining table, her resentnt seed to reach its peak.
This reminded her of all the unsettling emotions caused by that damned broomstick, whether it was the boys lining up to break school rules because of brooms, or the particular emotional turmoil caused by Draco.
Boys' fascination with broomsticks was no different, whether they were Gryffindor or Slytherin!
"Cheers, Neville!" Harry and Ron raised their goblets of pumpkin juice to Neville. Neville blushed and said shyly, "You're welco."
"So you think this is a reward for breaking the school rules?" an angry voice ca from behind them. Hermione walked past them, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hands.
"I thought you weren't going to talk to us anymore," Harry said.
"Yes, please don't," Ron said. "It's much more peaceful that way."
Hermione felt a sharp pang in her chest. She forced an arrogant air, held her head high, and strode away.
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