Hermione had already heard the full account of what happened that day from Harry and the others.
She'd also shared Draco's suspicions with them.
In truth, the moment Hermione learned that the Invisibility Cloak had been a gift from Dumbledore to Harry, she'd begun to believe Draco's theories—though she didn't think the professors had acted with ill intent.
What she couldn't forgive, however, was that they'd been put in danger. Especially after hearing what Harry had gone through, Hermione still felt a lingering sense of dread...
"I can't believe it was Quirrell. He really fooled everyone."
Thinking about how he used to be concerned for him, Ron looked like he'd just swallowed a fly. The guy had hidden it all too well.
Hmm... If Draco had heard that, he probably would've scoffed. After all, he'd sensed something was off with Quirrell from the start.
"So the Philosopher's Stone is really gone? Then... won't Nicolas Flamel die?"
At the mention of it, Ron couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret over the destroyed Philosopher's Stone. That was a treasure said to turn any metal into gold.
"I asked that too. But Headmaster Dumbledore said something like, 'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.' At least... I think that's how he put it."
As Harry answered Ron's question, his gaze kept drifting toward the witch standing beside Draco, making him seem noticeably distracted tonight.
"I told you he's always been a bit off."
Ron, ever the one to think in Galleons, couldn't make sense of Dumbledore's words. To him, the Stone meant immortality and untold riches—just given up, like that.
Hermione, however, was more concerned about something else.
"Harry, did Dumbledore say anything about You-Know-Who?"
"Yeah... he said Voldemort never truly disappeared. He just went into hiding, waiting for the right moment to return."
Harry whispered the secret, unaware of Ron turning pale at the name or Hermione tensing beside him. It was the first time she'd heard those words straight from Harry...
...
Even as Harry and the others whispered among themselves, Dumbledore tapped his knife and fork against his bowl, drawing every wizard's attention before slowly rising to his feet.
"Another year has passed. And before you all dive into these marvelous dishes, I must ask you to indulge an old man's ramblings for a moment. Ah—what a brilliant year it's been. I'm sure your little minds are fuller now than they were before."
Draco, paying absolutely no attention to Dumbledore's speech, kept his eyes fixed on the book in his hands, his expression one of complete indifference. Pansy, sitting beside him, could only roll her eyes in helpless frustration.
He was the only one in the entire hall bold enough to disregard Dumbledore so openly...
...
"Behave yourself, or the professor might notice—then we're screwed."
Despite what Pansy said, she still sat up straighter and subtly blocked the view of anyone who might be looking their way.
"Relax. Multitasking is a form of training for me."
"Hearing you say that only makes me more nervous!"
Pansy puffed her cheeks in mock annoyance, but the next moment, she suddenly turned toward the Gryffindor table.
"What is it?"
Apparently, Draco wasn't just joking about multitasking. Her reaction made him ask in confusion.
"It's nothing... I just feel like someone's staring at me. Could it be Hermione Granger?"
Realizing something, Pansy glanced suspiciously in Hermione's direction.
But before she could figure anything out, Dumbledore's voice caught everyone's attention...
"Now, as I understand it, we should begin with the House Cup ceremony. The final scores for each house are as follows: Fourth place, Gryffindor, 212 points. Third place, Hufflepuff, 352 points. Ravenclaw, 426 points. And Slytherin, 472 points."
As soon as he finished, thunderous applause and stomping erupted from the Slytherin table. Goyle and Crabbe were banging their goblets against the table in excitement—it was no wonder Pansy often called them gorillas.
Even Snape, sitting at the staff table, showed a rare smile, though it looked more like a sneer.
Pansy, trying to be discreet, even called out Draco's name, prompting him to glare at her with a helpless smile.
"Yes, yes, well done... but—"
That one word was enough to silence every Slytherin student.
Even Draco lowered his book and looked up at the kindly smiling wizard, immediately sensing something off in his tone.
"However, some recent events must also be taken into consideration."
What did he mean by that?
The Ravenclaw students, currently in second place, glanced over with hopeful expressions.
But unfortunately, they were never the ones in the spotlight...
"Ahem, there are some points to award. Let me see... ah yes, first—Mr. Ron Weasley."
Ron, suddenly thrust into the center of attention, blushed so hard his face looked like a baboon's backside.
In a way, this was probably the most glorious moment of Ron's life.
"He won what was arguably the most brilliant game of wizard chess Hogwarts has seen in years. For that, I award Gryffindor 100 points!"
Boom!
The cheers from Gryffindor nearly blew the enchanted ceiling off. The whole hall seemed to tremble from the noise...
"Draco, how could he do that!"
Pansy stared in shock. That was 100 points—the same amount awarded to the Quidditch Cup champions.
In other words, Ron's single chess game was being rewarded as much as a whole term's worth of effort. No wonder Pansy couldn't accept it.
In fact, aside from the cheering Gryffindors, students from the other houses were all staring at Dumbledore in disbelief...
And things were far from over.
"Next, Harry Potter—"
The Gryffindors went quiet this time. Somehow, they sensed what was coming.
The Slytherins sat in sullen silence too, though their proud heads remained unbowed.
"He showed remarkable courage and bravery. For that, I award Gryffindor 170 points!"
Anyone standing outside the hall might've thought there'd been an explosion. The cheers from Gryffindor roared even louder. Harry and Ron leapt to their feet, shouting, and were instantly swarmed by their housemates in a storm of hugs.
Once the chaos died down a little, Dumbledore finally continued...
"This means we'll need to make a few small changes to the decorations."
With a wave of his hand.
And in the blink of an eye.
The green and silver vanished. The Slytherin banners disappeared, and the entire hall was awash in red and gold—the colors of Gryffindor.
Dumbledore's actions made the House Cup's final result crystal clear.
In that moment, Draco's eyes flashed with rare anger—because Pansy had buried herself in his arms, crying.
"But... but Draco... you worked so hard... it's not fair..."
Draco gently patted Pansy as she broke down in front of him, unsure how to comfort her.
He looked up in silence at the old wizard smiling kindly on stage.
His narrowed gray eyes darkened, as if something had been decided.
What an ugly sight—the so-called greatest wizard of this era...