Like Hermione, Draco often spent time in the library. Sometimes it was to perfect assignments he had already completed, and sometimes it was to research information about the Diadem of Ravenclaw.
Prying open the Grey Lady's shell was no easy task. She was a ghost, and nothing material could influence her anymore. Draco could only attempt to find the key to unlock her heart in the books.
That day, the library was packed with people, as it seemed that all the students were attempting to finish some essays, given that the Hogwarts teachers were constantly increasing the difficulty of the assignments, and the demanding requirements for the length of the parchment had reached new heights.
When Hermione Granger entered the library, there were hardly any seats available. Clutching several books, she wandered around the possible seating areas several times, almost reaching the Restricted Section, but could not find a single empty table.
She sighed regretfully, frowned, and simply sat down on the floor in front of the bookshelf, intending to read for a while, completely unaware that a pair of pale grey eyes were silently watching her from behind the bookshelf.
"What are you doing?" The owner of those eyes appeared. He slowly walked around from behind the bookshelf, stood beside her, and looked down at her.
"Reading," she turned another page, reluctantly raised her eyelids, glanced at him, and pouted, saying, "There are no seats left. I shall sit and read for a while."
"I have an extra chair... perhaps you would like to sit in the chair and read," Draco asked hesitantly.
"Really? Is that all right?" She looked up at him, her eyes lighting up instantly, like twinkling stars.
"Yes," he bent down and picked up her thick books from the ground, then extended his arm so she could use it to help herself to her feet. He said, "Come with me."
Draco led her into his secret sanctuary.
Draco Malfoy never helps anyone without a reason. Yet, strangely enough, I always find myself making an exception for Hermione Granger, the know it all.
Perhaps this is merely a case of mutual appreciation between so called top students.
Or rather, I need a touch of the innocence and vitality of a young girl. It makes me feel alive, not like a piece of rotting wood about to be consumed by memories.
Hermione, she makes me experience the word vibrant.
Vibrant joy, vibrant worry, even vibrant anger, all are awakened by her.
Since his rebirth, almost all of his intense emotional fluctuations had been related to her.
The girl in his memory who only glared at him and was wary and guarded was not only intelligent, rigid, and naively kind, but also lively, proud, and mischievous, and even had an endearing side.
He had not held out much hope.
He had initially thought she would hate him, just as in his past life. However, she did not seem to hate him, nor did she reject him.
"Would you like some tea?" he asked, skillfully arranging his tea set.
"All right," she sat happily on the extra chair, holding her books, swinging her legs in midair, and obediently waiting for him to make her tea.
"Is it better than sitting on the ground?" he asked casually as he poured tea.
"Much better! There is no better seat than this!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, sparing no praise.
So he gently placed the teacup before her and smiled silently.
"But I cannot usually find this place," Hermione pouted in frustration. "It seems like I can only find it if you lead me."
Draco sat back down and continued polishing his essay on the villain Ekrizdis, embellishing the life of this medieval Dark wizard with details, including every last bit of legend.
After teaching for so many years, Professor Binns must have grown bored too. He liked to see something new in his students' essays that went beyond the textbook. As long as one carefully put a note in parentheses indicating that it was a legend that had not yet been fully verified, Professor Binns would thoroughly enjoy the little pleasures he found in marking papers and would be willing to generously give an Outstanding to commend the students' tireless spirit of exploration.
As Draco corrected some grammar and wording, he slowly told her, "The Hogwarts library has many secrets. You will have to discover them for yourself."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, half believing his cryptic words. She sipped her hot tea and stole glances at his profile through the rising steam, feeling that he was simply giving her a vague answer.
"It might be somewhat rude of me to ask... You seemed to be crying in the toilets on Halloween. Why?" After writing on the parchment for a while, Draco could not help but ask his question.
For some reason, he was somewhat concerned about this matter.
He did not like hearing her cry.
"Honestly, I was a little foolish back then... but it was not a big deal..." Hermione said embarrassedly.
"I must know," he paused, putting down his quill, and looked at her sincerely with his grey eyes.
"Very well! I can tell you, but you cannot laugh at me," Hermione peeked at him. "Back then, Ron said I was like a nightmare... that nobody could stand me..."
Draco's quill snapped with a sharp crack, ruining the nearly finished piece of parchment.
"Oh my goodness!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise. She hurriedly stood up and tried to help him clean up the ink splattered mess. "Quick, quick, take this parchment away. Do not let the rest get dirty... What is wrong with your quill? It is so unreliable..."
However, Draco did not move.
He simply continued to look at her with those eyes, his face quickly darkening.
Hermione thought he was flustered by the sudden accident, so she quickly snatched the quill from his hand, threw it into the rubbish bin next to the table, and grabbed a bunch of tissues from the table to wipe his hands. She said urgently, "You must wipe them yourself. What is wrong? Are you stunned?"
"You are not a nightmare," he ignored the ink stains on his hands and firmly grasped her hand through the pile of tissues.
He stared intently at her, his usually clear voice slightly low, but each word was spoken distinctly, "You are not a nightmare, Hermione. You are the best dream a person can ever have."
Hermione, who was busy wiping his hands, was forced to stop. At first, she was puzzled, then she realized what he meant and felt shy about his unexpected praise. Then, a feeling of joy at being recognized welled up inside her.
"Is that what you think?" she said happily, revealing an undisguised smile.
He nodded slightly, without saying anything more.
She carefully observed him and found that his grey eyes were as clear as lake water, without any flinching or avoiding her gaze.
He is serious. Her smile widened.
"Do you need me to hex Weasley for you?" Draco said coldly, his back teeth clenched.
He did not even know why he said it. Yet, he simply could not control his mouth.
"No need, Draco. He has already apologized to me. It was all a misunderstanding, I must say. I might have been showing off somewhat too much when I was learning the Levitation Charm, and he probably felt a little resentful..." Hermione said cheerfully, clearly no longer holding a grudge.
"Very good," Draco said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.