Chapter 12: Potter's Blind Trust
As November approaches, Hogwarts welcomes the Quidditch season.
The fact that "Potter is about to play as Gryffindor Seeker" was like a stone falling from the sky into a calm black lake, causing ripples of discussion in the school and stirring up layers of predictions - some thought he would play well, while others thought he would fail miserably.
As for how Potter himself viewed this issue, Draco wasn't sure. However, he once saw Potter sitting at the Gryffindor table, holding the book "Quidditch Through the Ages" that had been borrowed by the unconfident Hermione, trying to see some self-confidence.
This feeling is particularly fresh.
His opponent, who had once been full of confidence and had defeated him many times on the Quidditch field, now showed his anxiety so realistically in front of him that Draco was a little hesitant to make up his mind to gloat.
"You have nothing to worry about." One day, he couldn't help it and stopped next to Potter.
Potter looked at Draco, and at Crabbe and Goyle, who were sullenly munching on chocolate cake behind him, with a puzzled look on his face.
"If I were you, I would go to the trophy display room on the fourth floor. I remember that several trophies have the name James Potter on them." Draco stopped talking and said nothing more.
If "family inheritance" couldn't make Potter confident, Draco didn't know what better way to do it.
Those students who only need to serve as spectators in the stands spend more time on their studies.
After the excitement of the start of school has passed, almost all students are overwhelmed by the increasingly heavy homework, and more and more students are lingering in the library.
However, Hermione Granger's reasons for spending time in the library were always different from those of ordinary people - she was never there just to complete her homework.
Sometimes, she would grab Potter and Weasley by the back of their collars and order them to complete their homework in a somewhat arrogant manner, or criticize their terrible parchment and ask them to rewrite it without any hesitation.
At other times, after Potter and Weasley had fled the library clutching their pitiful parchments, she would sit alone at a table by the window, reading intently beside the misty white gauze curtains, often surrounded by a mountain of yellowed books.
This made Draco curious.
Sometimes, to satisfy his curiosity, he would pretend to meet her by chance and take a look at the books she was reading. Then, he was surprised to find that the books she read were often unrelated to her schoolwork and the content she read was often beyond the level of a freshman.
When it comes to ambition, you can always admire Hermione Granger.
Draco flipped through an old book that mentioned the villain Murrick, and he couldn't help but admire it.
Why was she working so hard? Draco wondered.
Could it be that the experience of being "helpless in the face of the troll" ignited Hermione's extraordinary fighting spirit?
Draco understood the feeling of being helpless. He had felt the same way when his father, Lucius, was imprisoned in Azkaban.
He was practically forced into becoming a Death Eater. He never really enjoyed being branded with the Dark Mark. Of course, he'd brag about it to all the Slytherins. Over and over again, he'd tried desperately to convince himself that it was a good deed that brought glory to the Malfoy family.
Indeed, the Dark Mark on his left wrist instilled awe in the Slytherins, and sometimes, out of genuine awe, he would bare his arm to show them.
This way, perhaps some opportunistic Slytherins would not take advantage of Lucius's imprisonment and make his life easier.
In front of others, he acted complacent, boastful, and arrogant, but behind others' backs, he worked hard to learn and even research those taboo and complicated black magic and obscure alchemy.
He desperately wanted to prove to the Dark Lord that he was a useful subordinate, a person worth winning over, so as to help his father escape from the misery of Azkaban as soon as possible.
Those unbearable and poisonous memories attacked his brain all the time. Draco rubbed his temples, pushing them back into the depths of his mind, and returned his attention to the book in front of him and the parchment covered with dense words.
Like Hermione, Draco often spent time in the library, sometimes to finish homework he had already done, and sometimes to look up information about the Ravenclaw Diadem.
It was not easy to pry open the clam-like mouth of Ms. Grey. She was a ghost, and there was no material benefit that could move her. Draco could only try to find the key to her heart from books.
That day, the library was packed, as it seemed all the students were trying to finish some papers. Given that the teachers at Hogwarts were constantly increasing the difficulty of the assignments, the stringent requirements for the length of parchment had also reached new heights.
When Hermione Granger walked into the library, there were no seats available. She walked around several times with a few books in her arms, looking for a seat, and even when she was almost in the restricted section, she still didn't see a single empty table.
She sighed regretfully, frowned, and simply sat down on the ground in front of the bookshelf, intending to read for a while. She was completely unaware that a pair of light gray eyes were silently looking at her in the gap behind the bookshelf.
"What are you doing?" The owner of those eyes appeared. He slowly walked around from behind the bookshelf, came to her side, and looked down at her.
"Reading." She turned another page, raised her eyelids sullenly, glanced at him, and said with a pout, "There's no seat left. Sit down and read for a while."
"I have an extra chair here... maybe you would like to sit on it and watch." Draco asked hesitantly.
"Really? Is it okay?" She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly lit up like shining stars.
"Sure." He leaned over and picked up her thick books from the floor, offering his arm so she could help him to his feet. He said, "Come with me."
Draco took her into his secret base.
A Malfoy never helped others without a reason. However, strangely enough, Draco Malfoy always made an exception for the know-it-all, Hermione Granger.
Perhaps this is just the mutual admiration between so-called academic masters.
Or rather, he needed a little bit of the innocence and vitality of the little girl - this made him feel that he was still alive, rather than a piece of rotten wood that was about to be corroded by memories.
Hermione, she made him experience the word "alive".
Fresh joy, fresh worry, even fresh anger - all were awakened by her.
Since his rebirth, almost all of his intense emotional fluctuations were related to her.
The girl in his memory who only looked at him coldly and was wary of him was not only smart, rigid and foolishly kind, but also lively, arrogant, cunning, and even had a cute side.
He had no hope.
He originally thought that she would hate him, just like in her previous life. However, she didn't seem to hate him, nor did she reject him.
"Would you like some tea?" he asked, fiddling with his tea set expertly.
"Okay." She happily sat on the extra chair, hugged her books, dangling her legs in the air, and waited obediently for the tea he made for her.
"Is it better than sitting on the ground?" he asked casually while pouring tea.
"Much better! You can't get a better seat!" she enthused, lavishing praise.
So he gently placed the teacup in front of her and smiled silently.
"But I can't find this place normally." At this moment, Hermione complained with a frustrated pout, "It seems that I can only find it if you lead me."
Draco sat back in his seat and continued polishing his paper on Murrick the Villain, writing a fantastic account of the life of this short-lived but extremely cruel medieval Dark wizard, even adding in all the minor legends.
After so many years of teaching, Professor Binns would obviously get bored. He loved to see something new in his students' papers that went beyond the textbook. As long as you carefully put in brackets that this was a legend that had not yet been fully verified, Professor Binns would greatly enjoy the small pleasure of correcting the paper and would generously give an "O" to appreciate the students' tireless spirit of exploration.
Draco said to her slowly, correcting some grammar and wording, "There are many wonderful things in the Hogwarts library. You have to discover them yourself."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, half believing and half doubting his inscrutable words. She sipped her hot tea and peeked at his profile through the misty steam above the teacup, feeling that he was just being perfunctory.
"It may be a little rude to ask this... On the day of the Halloween dinner, you seemed to be crying in the bathroom. Why?" After writing on the parchment for a while, Draco couldn't help but ask his doubts.
For some reason, he cared about this matter.
He...didn't like hearing her cry.
"Honestly, I was a little silly at that time...it's no big deal..." Hermione said embarrassedly.
"I insist (on wanting to know)." He paused writing and looked at her sincerely with his gray eyes.
"Okay! I can tell you, but you can't laugh at me." Hermione raised her eyes and looked at him quietly. "At that time, Ron said I was like a nightmare... said that no one could stand me..."
The tip of the pen in Draco's hand snapped, and the nearly finished piece of parchment was ruined.
"Oh my God!" Hermione was startled. She stood up hurriedly and tried to help him clean up the mess of ink. "Hurry up, take this paper away, don't stain the one below... What's wrong with your pen? It's so difficult to use..."
However, Draco didn't move.
He just continued to look at her with those eyes, his face quickly darkening.
Hermione thought he was flustered by the sudden accident, so she quickly pulled the quill from his hand and threw it into the trash can beside the table. She then pulled a pile of paper towels on the table to help him wipe his hands, and said anxiously, "You have to wipe it yourself. What's wrong? Are you so scared that you are stunned?"
"You're not a nightmare." He ignored the ink on his hand and held her hand firmly through a pile of tissues.
He looked at her steadily, his usually clear voice a little muffled, but every word was clear, "You are not a nightmare, Hermione. You are the best dream a person could have."
Hermione, who was busy wiping his hands, was forced to stop. She was confused for a moment, then she realized that she was embarrassed by his inexplicable compliment, and then a sense of happiness of being recognized came over her.
"Is that what you think?" she asked cheerfully, with an undisguised smile.
He nodded slightly without saying anything more.
She looked at him carefully and found that his gray eyes were as clear as lake water. He did not dodge or avoid her gaze.
He was serious. Her smile widened.
"Do you need me to help you beat up Weasley?" Draco said coldly, gnashing his teeth.
He didn't even know why he said it. However, he just couldn't control his mouth.
"No need, Draco. He has already apologized to me. It was all a misunderstanding, I have to say. I might have been too showy when I was learning the levitation spell, and he might be a little mentally unbalanced..." Hermione said happily, obviously no longer taking it to heart.
"Very good," Draco said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Then he realized his hands were covered in ink, and the parchment he had almost finished writing on was a mess.
She took away the ink-stained parchment for him, glanced at it, and said in surprise, "Where did you find this information? It's much more detailed than what I found... I didn't know that Murrick's rival, the evil monster Egbert, had inherited his Elder Wand through a duel..."
"Just a little anecdote," Draco said.
He was angry and feeling worthless for her, but she was concerned about the content of his paper? Draco didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I'm fine, Draco." Hermione noticed his worry. She shook off her previous depression and said with energy, "Actually, it's not just because of Ron. I was... I thought I had no friends and no one liked me. But later I found out that I was totally wrong."
She didn't want to tell Draco about the strange feeling she had on the day of the flight, nor did she want to confess the inexplicable closeness she had felt to him under his invisibility cloak.
On the day they learned the levitation spell, when his feather flew over the classroom with hers, she felt a little angry and a little shy. Her feelings towards him had nothing to do with "hate".
Her intuition told her that it would be best to bury these confusing things deep in her heart at this moment.
Maybe it was simply because she had truly begun to see him as a friend, not just a Slytherin classmate who was easily noticed.
She looked at Draco and smiled brightly. "My friends showed up at my most critical moment, risking their lives to save me. And yet I was angry with them because they didn't follow the rules. In fact, if you had followed the rules that day, I might have died."
Draco had just calmed down and was now refilling Hermione's tea. Hearing this, he looked up at her and raised his lips lazily, "I'm glad you think so."
He admires people who know how to adapt.
"Draco, you saved me twice that day. I think I can trust you." Hermione said seriously, "Harry also asked me to thank you. We found his father's trophy in the trophy display room, and he is in much better training condition than before."
She cleared her throat, sat down face to face with Draco, took the cup of tea obediently, and announced proudly, "The three of us discussed it and decided to tell you a big secret."
Then, to Draco's surprise, Hermione revealed everything on behalf of the Potter trio:
Hagrid was once asked by Dumbledore to go to Gringotts to pick up a special small package; they once accidentally entered the restricted area on the fourth floor and saw a big dog with three heads; there was a trapdoor under the big dog's body; even when Harry accidentally discovered that Professor Snape was injured, Hermione told him everything.
"Harry and Ron suspected that Professor Snape wanted to steal the thing the big dog was guarding!" Hermione said seriously, carefully observing his expression. "They even suspected that Professor Snape had let the troll in."
Draco pinched his forehead and asked with difficulty, "Why did you tell me?"
Are they such rash and gullible people?
Are you that familiar with him?
Shouldn't they report it to Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore?
"We believe in you! You have been helping us." The girl in front of him had eyes that flashed with sincerity, even a hint of trust.
Draco just wanted to sigh.
Merlin! With such a troll-like brain circuit and such blind credulity, how did Harry and the others survive to the end?
Don't blame him for being so sentimental.
In his previous life, they had always been wary and cautious of him; in this life, this trust came too easily, which made him feel unreal.
He certainly knew that this trust was a good thing for him, as it meant that Harry and the others had good intentions towards him, or at least did not dislike him.
Because of his past memories, Draco knew what was going on. It was Quirrell who had released the troll, and it was also Quirrell who had tried to get through the three-headed dogs.
Quirrell wanted to obtain the Philosopher's Stone, which could be used to make an elixir of life, for the Dark Lord on the back of his head, but Draco couldn't explain this to them directly.
And, as Draco reviewed the events of his first year, an idea gradually came to him.
——All this seems to be a test, or trial, that Dumbledore gives to Potter, the future savior.
Although interfering on my part can solve the problem, it will hinder Potter's growth. How can Potter then take on the responsibility of being the savior?
Hermione stirred the sugar in her teacup for a moment, then hesitantly continued, "Actually, I don't believe any professor at Hogwarts would put their students in danger. You're a student at Professor Snape's academy, and you know him better than we do. Perhaps you could pay more attention to him and give us some ideas."
It seems that they showed their sincerity, not only out of simple trust, but also for the purpose of cooperation.
"You want me to be an insider?" Draco couldn't help but ask.
"It's not an inside job, it's observing Professor Snape's eyes." Hermione said seriously, "Don't you want to find out what kind of person your college's dean is?"
This idea must have been Hermione's. Potter and Weasley couldn't have come up with such a rhetoric. Draco looked at the girl in front of him with an unpredictable expression and couldn't help but think.
She was smart, courageous, and a bit cunning. He looked at her with admiration, watching her calmly drink her tea and smile at him with a frank expression.
Draco could understand their suspicion of Professor Snape, but he did not agree with it.
Professor Snape has a bad temper and is very mean. He likes to use harsh words to attack non-Slytherin students.
However, Draco believed in his professional ethics as a Hogwarts professor. In his memory over the years, he would at most bully students and do his best to deduct a few points from other houses, but he would never attack any student, nor was he interested in obtaining any mysterious treasures.
If the Philosopher's Stone had been replaced with boomslang skin, Professor Snape might have given it a try.
But the Philosopher's Stone? Please, please...
Poor Professor Snape, because of his gloomy personality and eccentric behavior, became a pure scapegoat.
Out of his secret sympathy for Professor Snape, Draco couldn't help but ask, "Instead of suspecting Professor Snape, don't you think Professor Quirrell is more suspicious?"
Hermione froze, she set down her empty teacup and stared at Draco.
"Professor Quirrell?" she asked uncertainly.
"Perhaps you weren't at the Halloween party and didn't know the whole story." Draco poured her some more tea and said slowly:
"The first thing I did when I returned to the Slytherin common room was to ask the students who had witnessed the whole incident in the Great Hall. Interestingly, they told me that the first person to notice the troll was gone was Professor Quirrell. He ran into the Great Hall and shouted that sentence, which immediately caused a commotion in the Great Hall."
Hermione was disturbed by his words.
She had never considered such a possibility. In a trance, she suddenly took a big sip of tea, which was so hot that she suddenly fanned her mouth with her hand, but at the same time, she liked the taste of the tea very much and squinted her eyes in satisfaction.
This is not very polite, but the simple and unrestrained vitality is not offensive.
Draco secretly observed Miss Know-It-All's amusing expression, wanting to drink but afraid of the heat, and chuckled twice. Before she noticed, he put on a serious face again and continued his unfinished speech, "Under normal circumstances, Quirrell should quietly tell Dumbledore to try to avoid student riots, so as to avoid a stampede caused by panic."
Hermione opened her mouth, about to retort, but Draco spoke to himself, "What's even more interesting is that no one knew Professor Quirrell's whereabouts. I mean, from the time the student organization returned to the dormitory until we hid in the classroom and heard Professor Quirrell coming to deal with the troll."
"Didn't he faint?" Hermione interrupted in confusion, interrupting Draco's analysis.
"Yes, he seemed to have fainted. Therefore, when Dumbledore led all the teachers to look for the troll near the dungeon, he was the only one who did not need to participate in the search because he had fainted. And after the students evacuated, there was no one in the hall who could prove where Professor Quirrell had been during this time." Draco tapped the table with his fingertips and analyzed in an orderly manner.
"I agree with you, Hermione. I also don't believe that any professor at Hogwarts would do anything to put students in danger." Draco rested his pointed chin on his crossed hands and stared at Hermione's confused and wrinkled little face.
"But if we must doubt a professor, we might as well guess, is the stuttering Professor Quirrell really as innocent as we originally thought?" he asked calmly.