Hermione's sudden appearance caught Pansy completely off guard, and the rest of them were just as startled to find someone already there.
It wasn't just Hermione's mention of the so-called cursed blood that surprised them—especially those who had no idea what she was talking about. Her sudden entrance had thrown everyone for a loop.
Draco, however, was more puzzled than startled. He studied Hermione closely, noticing a trace of urgency in her expression. It looked like something serious had happened.
But just as Draco was about to ask, Pansy, having snapped out of her shock, stepped forward...
"Miss Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, is there something you need?"
Pansy delivered an impeccable noble curtsy as she addressed Hermione, gracefully lifting the hem of her robe with one hand in a way that would make any wizard unfamiliar with etiquette feel inadequate.
Her words were perfectly polite, and her manners flawless—but for some reason, the air seemed to crackle with tension.
Faced with Pansy Parkinson's pointed question, Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly. Whatever anxious urgency she had felt before seemed to melt away the moment their eyes met.
"I have something important to discuss with Draco."
Hermione may not have had a prestigious upbringing or formal aristocratic training, but she was proud, and she didn't see status as any kind of obstacle. She certainly didn't feel inferior—nor did she find anything especially remarkable about Pansy, aside from the fact that her curtsy had been rather pretty.
So even without titles or background, Hermione's presence didn't lose out to Pansy's in the slightest...
...
Draco wasn't sure what was going on between the two girls, but what he really wanted to know was why Hermione had come looking for him.
One look at her flushed cheeks and the light sheen of sweat on her forehead was enough to tell him she'd been running—and that definitely wasn't the look of someone casually passing by.
"Did something happen?"
"Yes! I don't have time to waste, Draco, I need your help."
Snapped out of her strange mood by Draco's question, Hermione gave herself a frustrated slap on the cheek, then—ignoring Pansy's twitching expression—stepped around her and reached for Draco's robe.
"Wait, calm down. At least tell me what's going on first."
Thud!
Before she could drag him away, Draco stopped her with a swift, light chop to the head.
"What was that for?!"
Hermione clutched her forehead with one hand, glaring at him while crying out in pain.
The bizarre exchange made Goyle and Crabbe instinctively take several steps back.
Because the boss lady was now radiating an ominous black aura...
Whatever Pansy might've been thinking at that moment, one thing was clear—Draco's quick chop had done its job. Hermione had, at least, calmed down a little.
"Come on, what actually happened?"
"It's just..."
Though Hermione still looked a little anxious, she was much calmer than before. But her hesitant glance at Pansy, Goyle, and the others made it clear—she didn't want them to hear about it.
"Hmph, then don't bother."
The moment Pansy caught that look, she stepped up beside Draco and flashed Hermione a tiny smirk, baring her little fangs in a gesture that, while cute, wasn't angry in the slightest.
Hermione raised an eyebrow but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she locked her eyes firmly on Draco's face.
That cold disregard sent a clear message, and Pansy instantly realized—this girl wasn't easy to deal with.
Of course, if she were just some ordinary girl, Draco wouldn't be involved with her at all...
Pansy wrinkled her nose.
"Tch. Let's go! You two don't just stand there like a couple of dumb gorillas!"
"..."
"..."
After giving Draco a swift kick to the calf, Pansy turned and walked off, leaving Goyle and Crabbe—the "gorillas" in question—scrambling to catch up.
It was hard to believe that the same Pansy who had just looked at Hermione like a thief would so casually leave the two of them alone.
Whether it was confidence or something else, one thing was certain—Pansy really was spoiling Draco...
...
Hermione's gaze followed Pansy's back for a second before snapping back to glare fiercely at Draco.
She wasn't even sure why, but an odd, simmering frustration had taken root inside her. After glaring at him, she glanced down at the dark mark on his calf where Pansy had kicked him—and suddenly felt an itch in her own foot to do something similar.
"Can we talk now?"
Noticing her gaze flicking to his leg, Draco stepped back with a dark look. Did all girls like kicking people?
"Fine, let's walk and talk."
Always one for action, Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. He didn't resist—he was too curious about what had her this worked up.
"We need to get the Philosopher's Stone before Snape does."
"..."
That hit like a thunderclap. For a second, Draco didn't even know how to respond.
It wasn't until they'd run a few steps that he snapped out of it, yanking Hermione around to face him—almost pulling her into his arms.
"What... what are you doing?!"
"That's my line!"
"Huh?"
"First of all, I don't think Snape's after the Philosopher's Stone—just hear me out. Second, where on earth did you get the idea you could take on a professor-level wizard like Snape?"
Draco kept his grip on her arms, steadying her as he spoke, while Hermione blushed furiously for reasons even she didn't understand.
"And why didn't you go to a professor?"
"We—of course we tried. But Dumbledore's not at the school, and Professor McGonagall didn't believe us. She scolded us instead."
That made sense. No other professor would have believed them either—especially given Harry Potter's recent history of "bending the truth."
"Is he really not here... or is he just conveniently not here?"
Draco's muttered comment made Hermione blink in confusion, unable to catch what he'd said. But remembering how much time she'd already lost, she tried to pull away again.
"Anyway, we're the only ones who can stop them from getting the Philosopher's Stone."
"Come with me, you idiot. I'll show you how to do things the right way."
Hearing her idealistic and reckless claim, Draco nearly burst out laughing.
Trying to go up against a full-fledged professor?
Who was the real idiot here—him, or Snape?
"You have no idea what real magic is capable of."
Draco's intense, commanding gaze made Hermione fall silent. She wanted to argue, but the memories of what she'd seen in the Forbidden Forest flashed through her mind—and with them came the quiet realization that maybe... they had overestimated themselves.
She opened her mouth, then glanced down at Draco's hand holding hers. In the end, she just pouted and stayed quiet.
She wasn't an idiot...