Draco didn't know if the murderer was an S, nor did he care.
But one thing was certain—the Forbidden Forest was definitely not normal. For all he knew, the killer could already be targeting another unicorn.
So, just to be safe, Draco wordlessly drew his wand on the way back and cast the Disillusionment Charm on Norberta, Hermione, and himself.
Easier said than done.
Spells required an exchange of power, and to conceal a body as massive as Norberta's for any sustained period demanded an overwhelming amount of magic—far beyond what any underage wizard should be capable of.
In terms of magical output alone, the fact that Draco could manage something like that made him practically monster-level.
Can you imagine how much magical energy it would take to make an entire house vanish?
As a first-year, there was no way Hermione could grasp the difficulty of it all—so it never even occurred to her to stop Draco.
But the moment he cast the charm over her and Norberta, she saw it—the pallor on Draco's face, the way his body swayed. Realizing what was happening, she immediately stepped forward to steady him.
His state reminded Hermione of something she'd read about in a book.
Magical exhaustion.
Not low reserves.
Not empty.
Negative.
A condition wizards only reached when they had no other choice.
Put simply, Draco now couldn't even win a fight against a Muggle with no magic at all.
'This reckless idiot…'
Hermione didn't know whether to feel guilty or grateful.
If he didn't completely trust her, Draco would never have pushed himself this far.
Then again, she seemed to be forgetting something—if trust was involved, there was still a giant dragon watching her back…
In any case.
Right now, the young witch looked at Draco with a complicated expression as he straightened up and waved her off like he didn't need anyone's help.
Hermione felt both worried and a little frustrated.
Even in this condition, he still stood tall, pretending like nothing was wrong.
But when their eyes met—his gray ones slightly unfocused under the moonlight—Hermione finally gave up trying to argue.
It wasn't often she gave in. And yet, in that moment, it felt like something shifted quietly inside her...
...
For a young wizard still growing, pulling an all-nighter was already tough enough—draining his magic completely made it so much worse.
Draco, now sitting at the long table in the dining hall, stared at his lunch without the slightest appetite. He understood that feeling all too well.
"There won't be a next time."
Muttering to himself with a wry smile, he rubbed his aching temple with his fingers.
He'd been mentally prepared and had read about symptoms like this in books, but only after going through it himself did he understand why wizards did everything they could to avoid it.
Beyond being unable to use magic for a while, it felt like someone was jabbing needles into his brain.
In some ways, Draco was a wizard who enjoyed his comforts...
Pansy, who had long noticed something was off, eyed Draco curiously. With his eyes half-shut and looking thoroughly worn out, this was the first time she'd seen him like this.
"What did you do last night? You even used a Stimulant Potion."
She was referring to the small, clear vial on the table—the one Draco had just drained in a single gulp. The purple liquid it had held was completely gone.
As the name suggested, a Stimulant Potion helped stabilize a wizard's mental state. It was the kind of straightforward naming that perfectly reflected how wizards weren't great at naming things.
That potion, like the rapid-sketch quill Hagrid had used to map things earlier, came through special channels. In other words—dark magic items.
"You know the side effects of that stuff, right?"
"Relax. As long as I don't overdo it, I'll be fine."
Pansy glared at him, annoyed he wasn't giving her a real explanation. But the moment she saw how drained he looked, her angry little face softened with concern.
Noticing her sudden silence, Draco figured she was worried and offered a bit of reassurance.
"Just overused my magic a little. No need to stress."
"How can I not...?"
Pansy muttered under her breath, then moved behind Draco and gently took over massaging his temple with her own fingers.
Draco was a little surprised, but he didn't refuse her gesture.
Across the table, Goyle and Crabbe stared like they'd seen a ghost, which only made Pansy curl her lips into a chillingly sinister smile—so sharp it sent shivers down their spines. Any trace of her earlier gentleness had vanished.
Driven by pure survival instinct, Goyle and Crabbe quickly realized that unless they did something, their fate might be grim. So they rushed to share some gossip they'd picked up that morning—anything to shift the "witch's" attention elsewhere.
"Draco, did you hear?"
"When we woke up this morning, someone noticed Gryffindor was down a hundred points from last night!"
Pansy had heard about that too. It was no small matter.
"Huh? Wasn't that just a mistake?"
"Nope. Someone checked with Professor McGonagall. It's real—Gryffindor lost a full hundred points."
"Don't tell me the red-haired twins got caught sneaking around?"
As she said this, Pansy didn't catch the slight twitch of Draco's eyelids.
"Nope. You'll never guess who it was."
"Spit it out!"
"Ahem... it was the Chosen One and his little sidekick."
Was it surprising?
Maybe not. Considering how they kept popping up around recent incidents, it almost seemed inevitable.
"What did they do? How'd they lose that many points?"
"Word is they lied to Professor McGonagall. Said someone was going into the Forbidden Forest last night, but McGonagall stayed up half the night and didn't see a soul."
"!?"
Draco, who had been sitting there disinterested, suddenly snapped his eyes open. Bloodshot and intense, his gaze looked almost frightening...
...
[Upto 50 chapters ahead for now]
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