What was nearly a full-blown conflict between the two houses was quickly defused by Professor Lockhart's timely arrival, calming both sides.
Hermione, who had been anxiously wanting to speak up, let out a heavy sigh of relief. Deep down, she had no desire to see things escalate like that—but she also hadn't known what to do to stop it.
She wasn't sure whether it was because she was well aware of Draco's strength, knowing that even if they ganged up on him, they might still lose, or if it was something more personal.
Either way, whatever the reason, Hermione realized that if she didn't do something, this kind of situation was bound to happen again...
...
Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Despite having mentally prepared herself, the moment Lockhart's so-called quiz landed on Draco's desk, he finally realized—he had completely underestimated this man...
"..."
"What even are these questions?"
Pansy, who'd also received the quiz, stared wide-eyed in disbelief, as if she were looking at something utterly incomprehensible. Her reaction wasn't because the questions were too hard or absurdly easy.
They were just... bizarre.
A second later, clearly wanting to share her bewilderment, Pansy leaned over to Draco's side, completely ignoring the fact that they were technically taking a test, and whispered some of the questions aloud...
...
"What's Lockhart's favorite color? What do you think his greatest achievement is? What gift would he most like to receive? Who on earth wants to know any of this?!"
"Heh."
"Feels like I'm back at that book signing in Diagon Alley."
As Pansy muttered complaints, Draco casually tossed aside the three sheets of parchment that made up the 54-question quiz. Even if he knew the answers to these ridiculous questions, he had zero interest in answering them. Something told him that if he took them seriously, he'd lose a bit of his dignity.
Beside him, Pansy buried her face in her hands in embarrassment.
"Even if it's just a tactical alliance, I feel like this will go down as the biggest disgrace in the history of the Parkinson family."
"Relax. As long as things go normally, no one else will ever find out."
"Let's hope so..."
Just like Draco, Pansy had no intention of answering the quiz—and no idea how to, anyway—so she simply laid her head on the desk, openly expressing her disdain for the whole thing.
Whether he didn't notice or just didn't care, Lockhart—wearing his usual smug smile—continued talking, basking in the adoring stares of the young witches around him.
"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Third-Class Order of Merlin, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award—but I don't like to brag. After all, I didn't drive the Banshee out of England with just my smile."
"There aren't even any Banshees in England..."
Draco couldn't help mentally scoffing as he watched all the girls gaze dreamily at Lockhart while he smoothed down his hair, blushing at every word he said.
Unlike the other boys, Draco didn't shoot Lockhart glares or openly mock his ridiculous teaching style. Instead, he simply pulled out The Ocean Adventures of Magical Creatures and began reading it like he was in his own world.
Ever since being asked that question about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, Draco had become curious about magical creature lore—and this particular book appeared to be about magical beasts becoming pirates at sea. Whether by coincidence or not, Lockhart seemed to deliberately ignore Draco's behavior...
"I see you've all purchased my complete collection. Excellent. I hope some of you will truly grasp its meaning."
Grasp its meaning?
Not everyone in the room was a Lockhart fan. A quick glance at the quiz only made it more baffling what exactly Lockhart thought they were supposed to be "grasping," because nothing in those questions seemed remotely enlightening.
Was it just pure flattery?
In truth, even hardcore fans probably couldn't answer half the quiz.
Still, if you looked closely, you'd notice there was one young witch who hadn't stopped writing since the test began.
Naturally, that witch was none other than the know-it-all herself—Hermione Granger...
...
Just as the quiz time ended and Lockhart began collecting the test papers, he flipped through them right there in front of the entire class—clearly with no intention of actually teaching.
Draco gave Lockhart a passing glance before looking away. He'd already given up expecting anything worthwhile from this professor.
And sure enough, what followed only confirmed his suspicions...
"Tsk tsk, almost no one remembered my favorite color. I mentioned it in A Year with the Yeti ."
"..."
"A few of you should reread Weekend with a Werewolf. In Chapter Twelve, I clearly stated that my ideal birthday present would be for magical and non-magical folk to live together in harmony. Though I certainly wouldn't say no to a nice big bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!"
Lockhart's cheeky wink earned a few raised brows from the sharper students in the room. A flicker of doubt started to spread—some of them were beginning to realize something wasn't quite right.
That doubt reached even Hermione, who Lockhart called out by name...
"But Miss Hermione Granger knows that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and to market my own line of hair care potions. In fact—perfect score! Which one of you is Miss Granger?"
Unusually, when the professor praised her and awarded full marks, Hermione didn't look particularly pleased. Instead, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face.
Because she'd noticed something—Draco's complete lack of reaction. Not just disinterest, but total dismissal, like Lockhart didn't even exist.
Though she hadn't known him long, and usually acted proudly around him, Hermione couldn't deny—even if only to herself—that she admired Draco. So when she saw his reaction, it made her wonder...
Was there something more going on behind the scenes?