Chapter 14: Gentle and Cold Snow
On the eve of the Christmas holidays, a sudden heavy snow fell over Hogwarts Castle, making almost all students unable to concentrate on their studies.
Even Hermione Granger, who always buried herself in her studies and was the odd one out at Hogwarts who lived in the library, had to admit that Hogwarts covered in snow was so beautiful that it aroused people's imagination.
She guessed that if someone rode a broom and looked down at Hogwarts from mid-air, they might find that Hogwarts looked like a whole piece of delicate gingerbread houses sprinkled with icing sugar, or a model of a castle in some kind of singing, snowflake-filled crystal ball in the Muggle world.
Why would one make such a guess—from such a high altitude? Hermione suddenly became puzzled.
It seemed that the five-minute flight initiated by a Slytherin boy had a profound impact on her way of thinking.
Draco, the boy who is as gentle as snow and as cold as snow.
Occasionally, during breaks in class or in the corridors, Hermione would hear the Slytherins whispering, "Malfoy is as it should be. You can't expect him to be approachable to you. His family is inherently arrogant."
Arrogant? He was very approachable to her in private, Hermione thought confusedly.
"I think there's something wrong with his nervous system that controls his smile," Lavender said to Parvati during a night talk in the dormitory one day. "I advise you to look at other boys. Malfoy is too cold, and he's a Slytherin."
"I know. I don't like Slytherins anyway—they always look down on others." Parvati said disapprovingly, "But judging by his looks alone, Malfoy is pretty good-looking, isn't he? It's hard not to notice him."
"It's only when he has a serious face that he looks good—maybe his smile would be really ugly!" Lavender chuckled. "That's why he doesn't dare to smile."
No way! Hermione thought angrily, hiding behind the curtains of the bed. He looked so handsome when he smiled.
Hermione had seen him smile. When he took her flying and got off his broom, his smile had been so bright and passionate, like the dazzling sun, with stars in his eyes.
He never smiled like that again. He always had a cold and distant look on his face.
Come to think of it, when we were partners in Transfiguration class, he never smiled and always had a stern face, looking quite serious.
But this doesn't mean he is unfriendly to her.
If they were talking face to face, studying together in the library, or working as partners in class, he would always be very kind to her, always speak to her politely, and even vaguely give her "special care."
This special feeling is subtly reflected in certain details that only the person involved can notice.
No matter what class it was, if she walked to the empty seat next to him and planned to sit down, he would raise his eyelids and glance at her expressionlessly, then pull out the chair for her - she had never seen any other study partner care about such a thing - in fact, he didn't seem to be so considerate to other students.
When there were no seats in the library, when she planned to sit or stand there and read a book for a while, he would most likely come from behind a bookshelf and "accidentally" pick her up, take her to that comfortable private space that she could never find on her own, put her neatly in a soft armchair, let her sit and read for a while, and even make her a cup of hot tea.
He would respond to any greeting she gave him, regardless of whether there were a bunch of Slytherins around to make noises. However, he rarely took the initiative to greet her, unless she was walking around the castle with a pile of books teetering on the edge of her arms. Only then would he take the initiative, not only suddenly learning to say hello but also helping her carry the books until she reached her destination.
Is he giving her "special care"? Hermione wondered.
Or maybe she was just being sentimental.
Sometimes, she inexplicably felt his gaze fixed on her, but when she turned around to look, he was staring somewhere else.
A boy who is close yet distant.
She didn't even know if their relationship could be considered as friends.
He never approached her unless it was necessary. It seemed that he would only approach her when she needed help.
When she was feeling alright, he left without hesitation. Afterwards, he kept a distance from her coldly, even refusing to make eye contact with her.
It was as if he didn't want to get into any trouble.
However, when she took the initiative to find him - no matter when, where or what - he never showed any annoyance, and his expression would even be softer than usual.
She could sense his thoughtfulness, even his attentiveness. When she got close enough to him, he wasn't cold at all, but rather a certain tenderness he had hidden.
Their conversations were always pleasant, and when they were interesting he would smile at her briefly—very occasionally—and then, more often than not, his smile would disappear immediately, his expression turning bitter and resentful.
A mysterious boy. He gave people a feeling of being mysterious, even a little mysterious, but this did not make people dislike him. Instead, it aroused her interest in exploring him.
She began to observe him.
He was too lazy to talk much. He would never even use a sentence if a single word was enough to answer.
He rarely smiled. He didn't smile at anyone except his professors. His attitude toward everyone was indifferent, with a cool demeanor and a bored look.
Compared to that, he still said a lot to her. Compared to his peers, his attitude towards her could be described as "unprecedented enthusiasm," Hermione thought.
But for some reason, even though he exuded an aura of "keep away from strangers", the Slytherins still respected him. They didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with it.
At the dining table in the Great Hall, there were always some Slytherin students surrounding him, eating and talking happily around him, following his lead and getting used to his cold attitude.
This is totally illogical. How could a cold boy be favored by the friendship tree?
Could it be that the Slytherins follow a different set of friendship rules—in this college, the cooler you are, the more popular you are? Hermione wondered in confusion.
In the Gryffindors' friendship code, the more outgoing, unrestrained, and enthusiastic a person is, the more popular they are. For example, her roommate, Lavender Brown, knew everyone in Gryffindor on her first day at Hogwarts.
Lavender has a special talent - she can quickly get along with all the Gryffindors. No matter who it is, she can greet them warmly and say a few words to them.
But looking at Draco's cold expression, it's probably impossible for him to be as gifted as Lavender and quickly know the preferences of all Slytherin students, right?
Why did he make the Slytherins always want to surround him?
Just like she, always couldn't help wanting to be his class partner, even though he didn't like to smile.
Hermione Granger, why are you willing to partner with him, again and again? she asked herself.
Alas, the Slytherin boy is as gentle as snow and as cold as snow.
The Gryffindor girl sighed wistfully, stuck her head out from the corridor, looked up at the snowflakes dancing in the sky, and involuntarily stretched out her arms - a few crystal snowflakes floated in the air, like gifts from the smoky gray sky. They fell with the wind and kissed her palms as if nothing had happened.
The bits of ice melted instantly in her warm palms, leaving only light traces of water.
Hermione shuddered at the cold touch, shook off the cold water droplets, blew warm air on her hands, and her eyes showed some lively emotions.
She smiled slightly, suddenly feeling a little happier. Shaking off the suspicions sparked by the snowflakes, she continued walking towards the library, carrying a few books.
The girl had no idea that she was being seen by a pair of light grey eyes as she tilted her head back to catch the snowflakes.
Of course Draco saw her.
The girl standing against the light on the corridor looked like a dream created by Merlin in a trance.
The fluff in her hair was clearly visible in the snowy light. She was like a cat that had strayed into the snow, curiosity brimming from hair to tail. Unaware, a few snowflakes had touched her fringe, her eyes bright as she gazed skyward.
The arm she extended into the corridor was smooth and slender, without any mark.
She looked fragile and cute as she tried to touch the snowflakes.
The kind of fragility that makes people reluctant to touch, the kind of cuteness that makes people feel heartbroken. Draco stared at her in a daze, a faint sense of sadness rising in his heart.
This was another side of Hermione Granger that he rarely had the chance to see.
An innocent, cheerful look. A look that is worth cherishing.
Don't think about it. Don't bother her. As long as she continues to smile, nothing else matters.
Let her read her book peacefully and happily.
She loves books the most, doesn't she?
The snow grew heavier, falling softly, covering his lonely face and choking his stagnant heart.
Suddenly awakened from yesterday's memories, Draco withdrew his gaze and returned it to the noisy atrium.
The students were laughing in the atrium, and the Weasley twins had enchanted several large snowballs so that they chased Quirrell around and landed on the back of his turban, much to the amusement of the students watching.
In the end, Quirrell had to cover his headscarf in embarrassment, stammering and angrily announcing that points would be deducted from the Weasley twins and they would be punished with detention.
"Wait, why don't you develop your talents?" Draco quickly caught up with the brothers in front and spoke to them.
The Weasley twins, apparently unfazed by their impending detention, were chatting animatedly about Lee Jordan's stash of giant spiders, but at the sound of Draco's voice they paused and glanced at him.
"Let me see, isn't this the little brat from the Malfoy family?" Weasley on the left said with interest.
Weasley on the right grinned at him: "Good job! We all listened to what Ron said...
"...You helped a lot in the last game!"
The two brothers, arm in arm, asked, "So, what does it mean to carry forward the great cause?"
Draco chuckled briefly and mockingly, sarcasticly, as he reflected on the snowball that had just hit Quirrell on the back of the head.
"I mean, you guys are really talented at pranks, so why don't you come up with some fun gadgets? Maybe even open a joke shop?"
He still remembered that in his previous life he had anonymously ordered a large batch of Peruvian invisible smoke bombs from Weasley's Joke Shop.
Pretty clever products, and they really work – even if the things you do with them aren't great.
"Like cookies that turn people into canaries when eaten, fake wands, candies that make people bleed from the nose..." Draco racked his brains to recall some of the products developed by the Weasley brothers in his previous life, and explained to them with gestures, feeling like a fool.
Such behavior is obviously not what a noble Malfoy should do.
But the effect was remarkable. The Weasley twins' cynical expressions vanished at this point, and they exchanged a quick glance.
They were clearly interested.
"We don't know what you mean by that," one of the Weasleys said with feigned indifference.
"A Slytherin's advice often has ill intentions." The other Weasley looked at Draco inquiringly, as if trying to find out his true thoughts behind his cold face.
"And, with all due respect, although you and our brother have some friendship... the Malfoys and the Weasleys have never been on the same page," the Weasley twins said in unison.
"I understand. But I personally appreciate your sense of humor. So this will be my personal investment and has nothing to do with my father." Draco handed them a piece of parchment with some preliminary plans and cooperation agreements written on it.
"You can take a look first. If you are interested, you can contact me." Draco smiled at them pretentiously and turned away.
"Is he crazy?" Behind him, he could still hear the faint surprised voices of the two brothers.
"He's really gone crazy..." The sound of turning parchment, with a tone of awe.
Draco had been planning to spend his Galleons on various investments rather than letting them rot in Gringotts. Although the Malfoy family had a lot of Galleons, they couldn't just live off their inherited wealth.
A qualified Malfoy must learn how to make money from money, so as to ensure the family's invincibility and everlasting prosperity.
In the wizarding world, he couldn't make any big moves, lest his parents notice. Especially in areas where his family had already ventured, he couldn't touch them at all. Otherwise, a small move would cause a ripple effect, and Lucius would soon know what his son was trying to do.
Draco didn't want his parents to know this. Sometimes, it wasn't always best to tell everything, even to his parents.
Weasleys' Joke Shop would be a highly profitable and well-hidden investment in the wizarding world - he had already seen the Weasley twins succeed once, and, most importantly, no one would believe that a Malfoy would invest in Weasley.
He also planned to invest some of the Galleons in several properties in the UK in the Muggle world; in the future, he would gradually get involved in the currency and stock trading markets.
The Dark Lord has always looked down on Muggles, which also means that these investments in the Muggle world are safer than investments in the wizarding world.
As for the properties, he planned to use some for rent and convert some into safe houses. As a cunning rabbit has three burrows, these hidden houses could serve as temporary shelters in case of danger.
There was nothing surprising about this. Honoring purebloods didn't mean blinding themselves to the benefits of the Muggle world. For the Malfoys, investing in the Muggle world was nothing new.
It goes without saying how much Muggle land the Malfoys have annexed near Wiltshire over the past few hundred years; it also goes without saying that the Malfoys have maintained close relations with the Muggle royal family, and the family has no shortage of famous paintings, gold, antique furniture and all kinds of jewelry; just to name one thing, if we were to list their assets in the Muggle world, it would probably take three days and three nights to list all those in the UK.
As for the rumor in the wizarding world - that for centuries, the Malfoy family had successfully entered the Muggle currency and asset trading market - although the Malfoy family heads had strongly denied these claims after the promulgation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, Draco knew that these rumors were true.
How could the wealth and connections accumulated over nearly seven centuries, from the 11th century to 1692, when the International Statute of Secrecy was officially implemented, be lost overnight? It simply shifted from the public realm to the shadows.
To this day, the Malfoys still hold a large amount of Muggle currency. When the principal is large enough, earning interest on the money becomes a natural and safe return. Moreover, since it is pegged to the Muggle world's currency in some way, it is natural for the Malfoys' wealth to soar along with the inflation of Muggle currency.
Anchorage, what a sweet word it is. Draco thought, if those impoverished pure-blood wizard families could have seized any opportunity during these 300 years of isolation to see the soaring prices in the Muggle world, they wouldn't have fallen so tragically.
Draco learned about these situations after his father was imprisoned and he tried to share the burden of the Malfoy family and handle some family affairs.
There is nothing more ironic than that a large part of the huge wealth that supports a pure-blood wizard family is drawn from the Muggle world.
However, for any Malfoy, the sound of gold coins jingling in his pocket is the most beautiful sound. As a family tradition, there is no shame in making money.
Therefore, when Draco in this life considered investing in the Muggle world, he had no psychological burden and did not feel any shame of "a pure-blood wizard lowering his own status".
Then again, Draco wasn't sure whether the Weasley twins would have the foresight to agree to his investment plan.
What is certain is that the brothers' reason for causing trouble for Quirrell is probably because they feel that Potter has been treated unfairly.
After all, judging by the results, Potter's out-of-control broom didn't alarm the school.
"We once told Professor McGonagall everything about Quirrell's curse on Harry, and Professor McGonagall promised to tell Professor Dumbledore about it." Hermione was very angry during the Transfiguration class. She whispered to him, "But the school never punished Quirrell!"
This result might have sparked the anger of those who knew about it, Draco thought calmly. Not to mention the Weasley twins, who were also somewhat surprised by the outcome of the matter.
It seems that Dumbledore did not realize the seriousness of the situation. He seemed to be determined to use Quirrell as a whetstone for Potter's growth.
But perhaps this time, even a great wizard like Dumbledore would misjudge the situation.
Quirrell is not just a remnant of the Dark Lord's men. If the Dark Lord behind him is not restrained and allowed to return to the mountains, it will bring immeasurable serious consequences.
Draco remembered that in his previous life, Quirrell was brought to justice, but the Dark Lord's soul escaped. Later, with some help from Peter Pettigrew, the Dark Lord regained his body and plunged the entire wizarding world into darkness again.
Draco thought of Malfoy Manor in his previous life. The once magnificent home was turned into a filthy state, all thanks to the Dark Lord. And from the beginning to the end, someone had already discovered the signs of danger, but shortsightedly let it go. Isn't it ridiculous?
With anger in his heart, he kicked the snow pile on the side of the road, and his shiny black leather shoes were stained with dirty snow water.
In this protracted game of wizards and chaotic battles, each player has his own calculations, and no one is completely selfless.
No one.
Should have been expected, wasn't it?
What's there to be angry about?
He tried to calm himself down and with a lazy wave of his wand, he cleared away the mess.
Exposing the Dark Lord wouldn't be that hard. Draco took a deep breath and thought as he walked: If I took off my turban in public, everyone would know.
The problem is that this dangerous soul cannot be underestimated. Once exposed, whether it takes advantage of the chaos to possess other people in Hogwarts or escapes to somewhere outside Hogwarts again, it will be difficult to find any trace of it.
How to deal with an illusory soul?
Draco was still absentmindedly pondering this question until he entered the dungeon classroom of Potions.
"Ron and I have been practicing the Leg-Locking Curse recently. Next time, if Quirrell casts a curse on Harry again, we will make him unable to move." In the last row of the dungeon, in the steam rising from the crucible, Hermione, who had come to partner with him again, placed a lionfish spine heavily on the operating table and said viciously.
This rash action finally drew his attention away from the annoying Dark Lord.
"Wait!" He grabbed her wrist to prevent her from touching the vertebra again.
"What's the matter?" She turned around and looked at him in surprise.
The boy in front of her was holding her wrist.
The temperature of his hands was icy, and the strength with which he held her was gentle, like snow.
Hermione couldn't think about Quirrell anymore. She only felt her face getting slightly hot from the heat of the cauldron.
Draco pulled a pair of dragonhide gloves from his pocket and slapped them against her palm, releasing the wrist that looked like it would break if pinched. With a flicker of disbelief in his heart, he said calmly, "Put it on before you grind it into powder. Lionfish vertebrae are no joke; they might spew venom."
"Oh, thank you." She reacted and held the glove. Her brown eyes were no longer filled with anger, but had a hint of smile.
"And goggles." While she was putting on gloves, he frowned and looked at her, feeling that those bright eyes also needed some protection.
"It's not that troublesome, is it?" She showed a troubled expression. "The gloves are so thick, it's hard to wear goggles. So there's no need to wear them——"
"Let me help you." He picked up a pair of goggles and began to help her put them on her head.
"Isn't that a bit exaggerated?" She glanced coyly at the classmates around her, then at the serious boy in front of her, her tone holding a hint of resistance, "Look, no one else is wearing this thing."
"Their operations are irregular and unsafe," he explained to her.
"Draco, I have to admit that I don't like goggles. It's not just because they're inconvenient to operate with gloves on, but there's another reason—" Hermione said in a low voice with a bitter face, "Every time I wear them, the straps get caught in a few of my hairs. It hurts like hell."
"I understand. I'll be careful. Okay?" He raised his gray eyes and finally met her gaze.
Hermione looked him straight in the eyes and couldn't help but nod.
So he leaned over and tilted his head to help her adjust the length of the goggle strap.
This Slytherin boy, he's doing this again, she thought dazedly in the flickering candlelight of the dungeon.
He clearly had a cold expression and his words were shockingly brief. But at the same time, he was clearly taking care of her, being considerate and attentive to her, yet he still made a fuss and cared about her safety.
He was intently fiddling with the stubborn strap, his lips pursed tightly, his pointed chin very close to her face. Somehow, a hint of tenderness flickered in his usually cold, pale grey eyes.
Hermione looked at the color in his eyes, feeling a little dazed.
His eyes are so beautiful, as bright and dense as broken glass.
"Ah, it doesn't matter if I got caught." After being stunned for a while, she suddenly came to her senses and said hurriedly.
She didn't want to put any pressure on him. She frowned slightly, waiting for the moment of pain, and her tone was mixed with a hint of self-abandonment. "I have too much hair, it's hard not to be-"
"It's on," Draco said, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised where she couldn't see.
Hermione was amazed that he had put it on her completely.
Gently, carefully, and quickly.
Not a single hair was caught.
How did he do it, Hermione wondered, when she herself couldn't be flawless?
"Thank you," she stammered.
He gave her a satisfied chin raise and turned away to stir the potion in their cauldron.
Look at this boy, how could you refuse his help? And how could you even think of finding anyone else to be your partner?
Anyone else seemed clumsy compared to him.
Does it matter whether he is a Slytherin or not?
What does it matter whether he is cold or not, whether he smiles or not?
Anyway, Lavender and the others were totally wrong! She had already seen his smile, maybe she was the only one in the school who had seen it! His smile must be the best looking in the school, absolutely! Hermione ground the powder fiercely, making a lot of noise, and felt very uneasy.
Draco didn't know what she was worried about - he thought she was so irritable because she was still worried about Quirrell.
"In fact, I think you should practice 'Petrificus Totalus' and 'Langlock'." He watched her overly indignant grinding movements uneasily, slowly stirring their potion and reminding her, "When facing an adult wizard who is more powerful than you, it is best to make him lose his fighting ability as soon as possible, making sure he can't wave his wand or recite spells."
"Langlock?" Hermione forgot her anger and said with interest, "How come I've never heard of this spell? It must be very advanced, right?"
"Oh, I forgot where I saw it, but the effect is to stick the tongue to the roof of the mouth, making it impossible to speak." Draco said a little guiltily, touching his nose.
Tongue-sealing and throat-locking spells he learned from a previous life when he and Potter attacked each other.
"Given that some wizards may cast silent spells, relying solely on the Tongue and Throat Lock would still be risky. I think the Petrification Spell is the first choice," he added hastily.
She looked at him in awe, with a little girl's admiration, "Draco, you know so much. It seems that there is no problem that you can't solve. I have always been curious, how can you, a first-year student, know so much magic?"
"Maybe I, like you, also like to read some extracurricular books for entertainment." Draco said casually, and couldn't help but glance at her.
Hermione Granger's admiration.
Tsk, how rare. He must remember this strange expression.
"What's with all this stack of books?" He nodded slightly toward the large tomes on Hermione's desk.
"I'm investigating Nicolas Flamel. I've searched through the 'Research on the Development of Modern Wizards' and couldn't find this person at all. We guess that he is related to what the three big dogs are guarding. Hagrid accidentally told us that this is a matter between Nicolas Flamel and Dumbledore." When Hermione said this, she felt a little distressed.
"If I were you, I'd check the older wizards." Draco finished weighing the lionfish vertebra powder and whispered to Hermione when Professor Snape wasn't paying attention. "Think about it, how old is Dumbledore this year? His friends might be older than him. Some wizards can even live for hundreds of years."
A word of advice awakened the dreamer! Hermione's eyes quickly lit up.
"I think you're right! Now I have a lot of new ideas! I might have to go to the library a few more times. There are probably several rows of books available for reference..." An idea flashed in her mind, and a beaming smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Draco."
Draco shrugged at her and quickly dropped his eyes before her smile could infect him.
By now, Draco had become more and more accustomed to providing some extra help to the Potter trio's "adventures".
He couldn't help but want to help. He could never forget the help Potter had given him, nor could he forget that Potter might be his best hope of defeating the Dark Lord.
Besides, once you and Porter and the others have shown goodwill towards each other, you will find it difficult to hate them again.
Although Gryffindors' IQs are sometimes comparable to those of trolls, and their actions are too reckless and impulsive, their sincerity, enthusiasm, and wholehearted trust still exceed a Slytherin's expectations.
In his previous life, his circle of friends was limited to Slytherin. He only knew the Slytherin code of friendship, which relied on hierarchy, command, and submission, and believed in the concept of "eternal interests." Obviously, this code never applied to other houses, especially Gryffindor.
After returning to Hogwarts, he lowered himself, tried his best to be polite, and approached Potter in a nice way. It was not because he suddenly changed his personality and fell in love with the Gryffindor way of making friends - in this life, he was still quite cold to those irrelevant people - but because it was profitable to do so.
However, Porter and the others obviously didn't think so. They took out something that looked like sincerity.
What should he do? How should he respond? Slytherin was not always so open-hearted. No one had taught him how to deal with this kind of thing!
Facing them, Draco often felt panic, confusion and at a loss.
The Gryffindors' way of making friends is too shocking.
There was no roundabout probing, no secret observation, and no scheming.
They are direct, proactive and enthusiastic.
Especially Hermione Granger.
He had originally intended to be just an ordinary friend with her, content with not harboring hatred or being indifferent to each other.
But she approached him, hugged him and smiled at him.
She was becoming increasingly overwhelming for him.
Draco admitted that if she encountered a problem and was looking for a solution, he couldn't help but give her some hints. He couldn't bear to see her distressed when she was unfortunately trapped in a blind spot in her thinking.
If she came to talk to him about academic matters, he couldn't refuse her. It would be hard to find a smarter peer than her, and no one was more to his taste than her.
If she couldn't find a class partner and had to stand timidly in front of him, or couldn't find a comfortable seat in the library... he couldn't bear to see her suffer such injustice.
She was just a little girl, and he couldn't help but take care of her a little.
His body always reacted faster than his brain. His mouth always reacted faster than his mind. His smile always reacted faster than his brain. His uncontrollable liking always reacted faster than... Sigh! Draco sighed softly.
Whenever he realized that she was fine and didn't need anyone's help, he wanted to evacuate her and return to a safe distance.
A safe distance away from danger.
But she would take the initiative to come to him.
Ignoring his indifferent face, she stood in front of him again and again, smiled at him, and came to him to be her partner.
Sometimes she would look at him with shining eyes, as if he were someone she could trust.
How precious is this look. Who can resist the power of this look?
She was innocently trying to pry open his frozen heart, regardless of whether he would struggle and suffer, or whether he would be heartbroken because of it.
Hermione Granger, do you know that there is no light in my life?
I am the mire, the night dew, the hollow tree. I am filthy, heavy, and fragile.
You are like fire, wind, free and brilliant, but I don't deserve your warm treatment.
My life is as cold as snow and as deadly empty.
I'm doing something extremely dangerous. I'm an extremely dangerous person. I don't want you to be in any danger.
If I could live my life again, I would be well aware of my grave sins and I would not dare to hope for anything more.
I just want to watch you from a safe distance.
I only ask, only ask that you be happy, and no harm can hurt you in the slightest. He felt bitter, lowered his head, and didn't dare to look at her, pretending to fiddle with the bottles and jars.
"Draco—" she called him again, calling him so affectionately.
"Hermione Granger, don't come too close to me. I'll destroy you. I'll hurt you," Draco thought desperately, stealing a glance at her.
She was not sure what she was thinking about, but she stood on tiptoe to look into the crucible, her eyes shining brightly.
"Hermione, what am I going to do with you?" he sighed, feeling rather worried.
"Draco, come here and look at the color of this potion!" She waved at him with a hint of doubt in her tone.
She seemed to be in trouble.
So he couldn't ignore her anymore.
He could finally respond to her with peace of mind: "Here I come."
Just to help her, to make her feel better. Nothing else. Draco persuaded himself and walked towards her involuntarily.