Chapter 138: Minerva was greatly shocked
It was a long-awaited open day in Hogsmeade Village, and Draco Malfoy was sitting in a corner of the Three Broomsticks Tavern, reading the newly arrived Daily Prophet.
His gaze lingered for a moment on the "history reveal" about "Ludo Bagman's past providing information to Death Eaters," and he figured the report was probably just embellished by Rita Skeeter to complete her quota.
He impatiently flipped the newspaper over, casually glanced at a report about the breeding of fire dragons, and decided to ignore the rest of the boring news content.
He was about to put down the newspaper and pick up the next one when he suddenly noticed that the girl sitting opposite him was intently reading the text on the back of his newspaper.
He was seized by a playful impulse and peeked at her from behind the newspaper.
She clenched one fist, supporting her chin, while her other hand absentmindedly stroked the handle of her butterbeer mug. She frowned slightly at the article he had dismissed, her lips pouting, as if deep in thought.
Draco liked her serious expression. She was like a focused, alert, furry cat, a vibrant life force radiating from her face.
So he paused for a moment, then continued to hold up the newspaper for her to look at. He smiled as he looked at her features—her eyes were bright, sparkling with childlike curiosity, a vibrant gaze that had been the most effective remedy for his low spirits.
Even now, that's one of his favorite looks.
It was as if she had discovered a secret that others could not.
She seemed to find inspiration and enjoyment in even the most mundane and boring things—Draco smiled faintly.
Harry and Ron, standing nearby, were already used to their constant displays of affection.
They were enjoying a new candy from Honey Duke, their ears constantly emitting colorful smoke from the heat of the candy.
"It's kind of like the original, unmodified stimulant, isn't it?" Harry asked with interest, watching the steam rising from Ron's ears.
"Oh, right. Speaking of which, who improved that energy drink?" Ron asked.
"Professor Snape," Draco replied casually, still staring at Hermione's face, "I only mentioned it to him—I didn't expect him to be so quick."
Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise, but said nothing more.
After a long while, long enough for Harry and Ron's hearing to return to normal, Hermione finally snapped out of her reading and contemplation. She noticed Draco's interested gaze lingering on her and couldn't help but smile at him.
"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked with a smile.
He didn't answer, but just gave her a lazy smile.
"Hermione, he held up the newspaper for you for almost fifteen minutes—and kept staring at you the whole time. Couples!" Harry exclaimed, eager to report back to her.
"Someone seems to think that the meager weight of a newspaper can tire you out. He seems to have forgotten one thing—when you were in third grade, you could carry seven or eight books and run across the entire castle like the wind, and even Mrs. Lorris might not have been able to keep up with you," Ron said with a grin, earning a fierce glare from Hermione.
"Speaking of which, your study plans—" she threatened, "and the papers Professor McGonagall assigned, have you finished them?"
"Alright, truce! I won't say anything more!" Ron shrank back and started fiddling with Harry's newly bought deck of self-shuffling wizarding cards. "Harry, tell me, are the rules of this deck the same as the Muggle cards you used to play with..."
"Draco, you should have told me—I could have kept it myself," Hermione said, blushing, though the upturn of her lips betrayed her good mood.
"I like doing this." Draco finally put down the newspaper. Now, he could finally look her in the eye.
"When did you become so interested in reporting on Rita Skeeter? I remember you used to hate her," he asked casually.
"I do hate her, and I still do. But sometimes reading about her reminds me of details I've never noticed before," Hermione said thoughtfully.
She felt a little thirsty and wanted to drink some butterbeer, but found that her glass was empty.
"Let me order you another drink," Draco said quickly, glancing at her, and got up to get it for her.
"No, I think I've had enough. I just want a little bit more to moisten my mouth." Hermione shook her head and refused. "It's okay if you don't drink anymore, we'll be going back soon anyway."
"So, would you mind drinking mine?" Draco tapped his glass with his fingertip; it contained a warm mead from Mrs. Rosmerta's house. "However, I've already had a sip."
"I don't mind," Hermione said. "I thought you would—"
Many people would mind sharing their cup with others.
She knew he was always very particular about these kinds of things, almost to the point of being a germaphobe.
"It's alright," Draco said quickly. "It's alright with you."
He pushed the glass of honey-colored liquid toward her and said slowly, "You've done this kind of thing before, haven't you?"
"When?" she asked, puzzled.
"A year ago, you drank my iced Americano." He smiled at her, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Back then, you didn't hesitate at all. Now you're all coy and afraid to drink it?"
Hermione's face flushed as she suddenly remembered her feat during her third-grade summer vacation. At the time, she hadn't really thought much about it, but now, looking back, she felt a different kind of shyness.
She glanced at him guiltily and found him looking at her leisurely, as if he were provoking her.
With a feeling of "proving that I haven't backed down," she picked up his cup and took a small sip, stopping short of taking a deep breath.
"It's quite nice," Hermione said slowly, savoring the taste for a moment. "It seems to have flavors of raspberry, blackcurrant, and some kind of cherry—"
"Your palate is very sensitive—it's Belgian Schaerbeek cherry," he said approvingly. "You can tell that the mead balances the fruit acidity and the sweetness of the honey, making it smooth on the palate."
"This tastes quite pleasant." She pushed the glass back, a regretful expression on her face. "I'm afraid I can't drink anymore today; I'm still thinking about Ludo Bagman—"
"Oh?" Draco looked up at her. "Ludo Bagman? What else is there for us to be interested in besides his despicable gambling addiction?"
"He's been acting very suspiciously," Hermione said. "When I go to see Blink, he always says he's a bad wizard."
"When did you go to the Hogwarts kitchen again?" Draco asked suspiciously. "How come I didn't know?"
"When we were arguing," she said huffily.
"Well, you weren't exactly idle back then, were you?" he said helplessly. Harry and Ron, standing nearby, turned pale upon hearing this, still haunted by Hermione's strict homework instructions from that time.
Hermione suddenly remembered something, and her anger turned into smugness. "Wendy told me you asked her to secretly send me flowers. I never imagined our young Malfoy would be so subservient to a house-elves. Who would do that if they wanted to enslave an elf?"
"Don't you even know which heartless girl I'm doing this for—" Draco's face turned suspiciously red as he muttered under his breath.
Hermione didn't hear him clearly and asked, "What did you just say?"
"I mean, tell me more about Bagman," Draco quickly changed the subject.
"Oh, right. You know, at first I even suspected that he was the one who put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire, wasn't he, Harry?" Hermione said.
"Yeah, he's always been overly enthusiastic towards me, always trying to pull me aside and talk to me alone, ever since the dragon incident. He seems to want to give me some tips or something. But I don't know him well, and I can't understand his inexplicable affection—it makes me uncomfortable. So most of the time, I avoid him when I see him…" Harry grinned at them.
"Ludo Bagman? He's a fraud!" Ron's face suddenly contorted with anger as he finally interjected, "You should ask Fred and George—they're the ones who suffered the most. They won a bet with Bagman during the Quidditch World Cup and got their due. But then they discovered that Bagman had given them the gold from the vanished goblins—"
"Your words clear up some of my doubts. I've been wondering for a while why they're so enthusiastic about selling lately, and then so listless when they're not busy." Draco frowned and complained, "I didn't know they'd pulled this stunt. What was the point of betting with Bagman? Aren't the stakes at the school enough for them to open a betting operation, and isn't the Magic Tricks Shop busy enough for them? They promised to import invisibility smoke bombs from Peru, but there's still no sign of them."
At that moment, Hermione glanced at him with the keen eye of a cat. He seemed to know a great deal about how the Magic Tricks Workshop operated, revealing secrets that no one else knew so easily.
Draco didn't notice her gaze. After his rant, he was finally thirsty. So he spun the glass 180 degrees and sipped the mead from the stained rim.
"It tastes good." He smiled with satisfaction, seemingly just praising the wine.
Hermione's face immediately turned bright red—that little bit of curiosity was completely forgotten.
Draco, that bad boy!
He actually did something so suggestive in public—was it intentional?
"They said they didn't wager a large sum, just joined in the fun—maybe ten Galleons—and with the Galleons they won, the amount should be quite substantial." Ron looked a little regretful. "They didn't make a big fuss at first; they just wanted to catch Bagman and fix this mistake—"
"I don't think it's a simple mistake." Draco sipped his drink, seemingly oblivious to the wine stains she had left on the rim of his glass, just as he was oblivious to the girl's shy expression.
"That's right. Later they noticed his evasive attitude and guessed he was probably doing it on purpose. But lately he's been elusive and extremely hard to find." Ron clicked his tongue in amazement at his two older brothers' disastrous experiences with betting on football.
"It seems he's probably in deep debt. I never thought Rita Skeeter would find the right subject for her story. This should be big news, considering he's the Director of Sports and Physical Education at the Ministry of Magic and has financial entanglements with those goblins..." Draco finished speaking and calmly took another sip from his glass.
Hermione was extremely restless.
His subtle, composed demeanor was even more suggestive than a direct indication.
Did he actually see the wine stain? And what was he thinking? Could this be considered an indirect kiss?
She cleared her throat, trying to draw her attention back to Ludo Bagman. "That's my point. He has an unusual interest in Harry—he's suspicious."
"Maybe he's made some bet again, you know, betting that Harry will win so he can recoup his losses." Draco glanced at Harry with concern. "I suggest you stay away from him. It's a deadly scandal for a champion to have a secret affair with a referee. Don't let Rita Skeeter get involved with you."
"Sirius said the same thing—his paranoia is even worse than yours," Harry said as he played a card for Ron. "He thinks that Bagman's sudden act of kindness might be hiding some deep-seated malice, like a sting operation. If I accept his help, they could throw mud at me the next second. As the dealer, that would be a better outcome for him, wouldn't it?"
"It's not impossible—it's always good to be cautious." Draco thought for a moment and said slowly, "In short, the best way to deal with such unfounded concerns is to remain vigilant and keep a safe distance."
"I agree—" Hermione said. She was still somewhat concerned about the newspaper lying on the table, so she picked it up again and began to read it carefully.
"You two are too serious," Harry said dismissively. "Sometimes, I think you two are like a pair of overly worried parents or something—"
Hermione quickly covered her face with the newspaper and stopped nagging.
"Oh, yes, he has a son who's a bit of a handful—" Draco didn't shut up like Hermione did out of embarrassment, but instead went along with it and even chimed in.
Harry glared at him.
"I considered you my friend! And you actually tried to be my father!"
"Just kidding—you started that." Draco shrugged. When it came to teasing, he'd never lost a fight.
Hermione buried her flushed face even deeper into the newspaper, pretending not to hear what they were talking about.
"Okay, I'll be careful," Harry decided. "I'll stay away from Bagman."
Harry didn't worry about Bagman for long. As Easter approached, his attention reluctantly returned to his studies.
The professors were assigning more and more homework, and the students were feeling increasingly overwhelmed. Even Hermione's nagging seemed less annoying, given that she always managed to give the correct answers.
Hermione Granger—as she always has—not only manages to finish the mountain of homework, but also sets herself extra tasks.
"Draco, I need to see your Helpo notebook, if you don't mind." After the last Transfiguration class before Easter, she deliberately packed her books slowly on her desk, waiting until Professor McGonagall and the other students had all left before leaning close to his ear and whispering the question.
"Can you give me a reason?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
When did she become interested in books about dark magic? If this continues, Slytherin will open its doors to her... The boy looked at her meaningfully, and couldn't help but smile.
"Didn't you tell me that the mysterious man's soul might have completely vanished? But there's one problem we haven't solved yet: how many Horcruxes did he actually create?" she said seriously. "What if some escaped? We still haven't found that ring, have we?"
Draco's smile gradually froze on his face.
Hermione continued, "I want to translate the book completely to see if there are any clues. There's other content that hasn't been fully translated yet! How can you be sure that there's no knowledge about Horcruxes in other chapters?"
"Of course, you're absolutely right. I've wanted to look into this for a while now…" Draco's face paled as he took the small book out of his storage bag and handed it to her.
Somewhere deep down he knew that Hermione was right.
Carefully and repeatedly confirming the "number of Horcruxes" is the most rational and prudent choice at present.
He hadn't forgotten Sirius's hesitant expression when he talked about the black gemstone ring.
The possibility that "the Dark Lord has not completely disappeared" has always existed, and the possibility that "the Dark Lord has more Horcruxes than they have found so far" has always lingered in his mind, but he stubbornly refused to think about it.
After spending the most relaxing and enjoyable month of his life, he became lazy about this for the first time—he always had a vague urge to procrastinate on something.
This is the first time since Draco's rebirth that he has been unwilling to think about the Dark Lord.
The mere thought of this possibility is unbearable. And if the outcome is unsatisfactory, the Dark Lord has other Horcruxes…
Merlin, Draco simply can't imagine.
"Draco, I know what you're worried about." Hermione carefully put the book away, then placed her warm hand over his slightly cool one, trying to soothe his anxiety with a gentle voice. "Harry's scar hasn't hurt in a long time. Let's just double-check, okay?"
"Okay." He squeezed her hand, calmed his tone, and tried to hide the worry in his eyes.
But the girl looked at him with an all-knowing gaze, leaving him nowhere to hide his vulnerable thoughts.
Merlin, his willpower is growing weaker and weaker in her presence. She is becoming more and more adept at seeing through his bad moods.
"Like you said, I'll be with you—you're not alone in this—I'll always be there for you," she whispered to him.
Instead of being encouraged, he remained frowning, absentmindedly putting the quill pen into his textbook and rolling the parchment into the ink bottle.
In the end, he made a mess of the things on the table, his mouth drooping, looking like he was about to cry.
Hermione sighed.
She had expected him to panic, but she hadn't anticipated such a strong reaction.
The classroom for the Transformation class was empty, with only the two of them remaining.
"Don't be like that, Draco. It's just a suspicion, it doesn't mean anything." She was extremely upset, and with a determined heart, she kissed his lips.
His lips were pale and cold, but she didn't care.
She was no longer as naive as before, and used a newly learned technique—she began to lick him—this level of proactive advances was a new experience for him.
This made it difficult for Draco to concentrate on being frustrated.
Okay, she succeeded.
She persuaded him with her warm, soft lips until he was as captivated as she was.
He took the initiative, grasping her neck and embracing her waist, kissing her passionately as if savoring intoxicating honey wine.
A sly smile crept across her lips, and she felt smug about her successful scheme.
And... oh my god, he's a master kisser... every kiss is incredibly pleasurable...
His warm hands unconsciously caressed her, and she moaned softly as she snuggled closer to him, skillfully nestling into his warm embrace.
"Merlin's Beard, what are you two doing?!" Minerva McGonagall stood in astonishment at the classroom door, her lesson plan clattering to the floor.
They separated, panting, and were abruptly stopped, leaving them slightly bewildered. When they realized who had interrupted them, their faces flushed red and then paled in an instant, a rather comical sight.
Minerva's heart was resounding with despair—her worldview was crumbling. She hurriedly knelt down to gather her shattered lesson plans, even forgetting that she could use her magic wand.
When she stood up again, the two top students in her transformation class were already standing obediently to one side, as well-behaved as two quails.
"Miss Granger, do you think that behavior just now was rational enough? I'm not saying this to attack anyone, but if anyone is coercing you, you can tell me. Don't be afraid of anyone, and I will get justice for you—" Minerva didn't look at Malfoy, but turned to look at her favorite female student. She tried to soften her tone, but she still couldn't hide her worry.
"Coercion? Absolutely not! Professor McGonagall, for Merlin's sake, he didn't do anything against my will," Hermione said in surprise, her face flushed red. "In fact, if you really want to know who made the first move, I have to admit, it was me."
"Oh—" Minerva's mouth opened and closed again. She was a little dizzy from the shock.
Granger, such a pure and studious student, was corrupted by Malfoy! They even dared to do such things so brazenly in her sacred classroom!
"This is really... I never expected this... I should have thought of it sooner..." she whispered to herself.
She should have realized that Draco Malfoy's rescue in the Black Lake was for ulterior motives!
What moral character could this young Slytherin master possibly possess? He's clearly seducing a good Gryffindor student!
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy—she had always thought it was impossible!
She had heard some rumors recently, but she thought they were just gossip spread by teenagers under the influence of hormones—teenagers always love to spread exaggerated and embellished gossip—she had been rumored to have some when she was young, but never took it to heart.
"Granger and Malfoy, they did have some contact, but they were just my study partners in Transfiguration class. They are two very talented young wizards, and you can't stop them from having some academic exchanges. No one should make malicious speculations about them because of this!" She had also said this indignantly to Argus Filch, that old gossipmonger, in the teachers' lounge, and vehemently reprimanded him for spreading rumors about students.
At that moment, Sirius Black gave her a half-smile; Severus Snape, instead of spraying venom, nervously looked away without saying a word.
Looking back now, they must have known about this all along!
Minerva leaned against a nearby desk, hunched over, and sat down, waving at them. "Let's go, let's go... I need some peace and quiet."
"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said sheepishly, "we're so sorry, we'll be more careful about what we do next time…"
Later—there's a later? Minerva rubbed her head, feeling the veins under her temples throbbing wildly.
Do they know what they will face in the future?
Let's not even mention the toxic and irresponsible pairing of Gryffindor and Slytherin—there were indeed such unexpected couples at Hogwarts a long time ago—and couples who had happy endings were extremely rare; just look at the Malfoy family, what a devilish family that prioritizes pure blood!
Naive Miss Granger, she was clearly a studious and simple girl, how could she understand these intricacies? It was probably that smooth-talking scoundrel Malfoy who seduced her—was he deceiving her feelings?
But why would Miss Granger say that it was her initiative? Could it be that Mr. Malfoy was the one who was subdued by Miss Granger—and what does that mean?
Minerva stared at the lesson plan in front of her, her thoughts winding and turning, yet she still couldn't quite make sense of it.
"Let's hurry, before she comes to her senses and deducts points from our score," Draco whispered.
While Professor McGonagall wasn't looking, he quietly helped Hermione pull up one side of her disheveled shirt collar. His mischievous fingers lightly brushed against her neck and collarbone, making the already uneasy girl even more anxious.
Hermione, her face flushed and her whole body steaming, wrinkled her nose at him slightly, signaling him to take his hand away quickly, and promptly handed him the backpack beside her.
He grinned at her mischievously, raising an eyebrow as if he wanted to play with fire. He interlaced his fingers, grabbed her hand, slung their bags over his shoulder, and pulled the girl, who was covering her face, away with him, escaping Professor McGonagall's gloomy Transfiguration classroom.