As Draco and Hermione were talking, the sky outside the carriage window gradually darkened.
"Do you know which house you will be Sorted into?" Hermione asked him.
She did not seem to want Draco's answer immediately, and continued speaking, "I have asked around. I hope to be Sorted into Gryffindor. Everyone says it is the best house. I heard that Dumbledore himself was in Gryffindor, but I suppose Ravenclaw would not be too bad..."
In most cases, such lengthy and rapid conversation could only indicate one thing: she was somewhat nervous and was attempting to use words to mask or relieve her anxiety.
Draco glanced at her. Indeed, it seemed as the train drew closer to Hogwarts, the tension in her eyes grew more pronounced.
Was it fear of the unknown? This was a side of Hermione Draco had never witnessed before.
He never knew that the know-it-all Miss Granger, who had been so confident since first year, would be anxious when she first entered school.
"Oh, do not worry," he began to reassure her unexpectedly. "I believe you will go to Gryffindor."
"Thank you for your encouragement." She gave him a forced smile and followed his gaze out the window. Under the deep purple sky, the shadows of the mountains and trees slowed in their passing.
"We are almost there," Draco said in a firm tone, staring at the shadows outside the window.
"I think you should go change into your robes," Hermione said to him, carefully cradling the toad as it squirmed uncomfortably. "I need to return this to Neville immediately, or he will surely cry. See you later."
Draco nodded to her reservedly and watched her hurried figure disappear into the corridor.
Gryffindor... Hermione Granger, listen to what you are saying!
Your reasons for wanting to go to Gryffindor are quite un-Gryffindor.
"That is the best."
"Dumbledore himself was in Gryffindor."
How could this possibly be something a Gryffindor would say? Draco pursed his lips, thinking this was something a Slytherin who pursued excellence and harbored ambitions would say.
He opened the door of his compartment and found that Crabbe and Goyle had finished their meals and were now sprawled crookedly on their seats, with satisfied smiles on their round faces and burping repeatedly.
"Did anyone tell you there is a feast at Hogwarts? I heard it is quite lavish. Can you still manage to eat?" Draco was in good spirits and teased the two gluttons mischievously. As expected, he saw their shocked and regretful expressions.
"No! No, no one told us there was food at Hogwarts!" Crabbe said, distraught.
"Should we not sleep at school?" Goyle blinked, his face blank.
Draco observed their desperate expressions, shook his head privately, and began to put on his wizard robes.
When the train came to a complete stop, a huge crowd of people rushed to the door and disembarked onto a small, dark platform. All the first-year students followed the enormous Hagrid and walked down a steep, narrow path.
The muddy path was difficult to navigate. The first-years stumbled and slipped frequently. For example, the girl walking in front of Draco was staggering alarmingly.
Hermione Granger was in a state of extreme distress. She stumbled in the dark, following Neville's footsteps, but unexpectedly, the toad in his hand suddenly leaped down and landed at her feet, nearly causing her to step on it.
"Trevor!" Neville shouted, turning back to search for it. He looked left and right, and finally discovered in despair that the toad had jumped into the dark forest on either side of the path.
"No!" Neville cried out in anguish, stretched out his hand helplessly, and watched the rebellious toad's back disappear into the distance.
As for Hermione, in order to avoid both the toad and the heartbroken and somewhat reckless Neville, she suddenly stopped moving forward, but due to her momentum, she could not maintain her footing and was about to fall into the slippery mud.
At this moment, someone behind her firmly grasped the collar of her robes and pulled her center of gravity back.
She turned around in alarm and saw a flash of platinum in the heavy darkness. It was the boy she had met in the carriage corridor: Draco.
"Thank you," she said, still shaken, whispering to the boy. Her confident manner was gone, and her voice was filled with embarrassment.
"Little daredevil," in the dark and cold air, amidst Neville's cries for having lost Trevor, he said to her lightly, "Grab my sleeve."
Hermione hesitated, but did not move.
Draco confirmed that the little girl before him was definitely the original Hermione Granger: she had almost no coordination and was skilled at tripping on flat ground. At the same time, she was too proud to accept help from anyone in public, or to openly admit she was not proficient at something.
Unless one could exploit her weakness of "not wanting to lose face in front of everyone" and use it to compel her.
"Grab my sleeve," Draco repeated himself, adding lazily, "if you do not wish to appear before the entire Hogwarts student body at the Sorting Ceremony with a face full of mud."
"Thank you very much," Hermione was frightened by the horrific scene his words conjured. She quickly grasped the back of his robe sleeve and walked behind him.
This was much more stable, Hermione thought.
This boy named Draco always seemed able to find the smoother and less treacherous parts of the path in the darkness, which was indeed easier than walking by herself. Only slightly, of course.
The boy in front of her was feeling rather smug.
This scene was rare: Hermione Granger would actually grasp his sleeve obediently and walk behind him like a well-behaved companion, completely satisfying the small remaining streak of mischief in Draco Malfoy.
After trudging along for a while, amidst a chorus of complaints and endless panic, the first-years finally reached the end of the path.
"So beautiful..." He heard Hermione sigh softly behind him.
It was indeed beautiful. This was the magnificent Hogwarts Castle before it had been ravaged by Death Eaters.
The turrets stood like a forest, the stars twinkled. It was peaceful, magnificent and beautiful.
Once they were on level ground, Hermione released her grip on Draco's sleeve and whispered her thanks to him again.
"My pleasure," he said briefly.
Then, like the other first-years who were seeing this scene for the first time, she rushed to the edge of the Black Lake animatedly and crowded together with others, gazing out at the endless vast lake and the dreamlike Hogwarts Castle with shining windows on the opposite shore.
The first-years were noisy and shouting in admiration.
Draco stood silently at a distance, watching all this unfold, feeling like a stranger in a foreign world. Returning to Hogwarts, he could not quite summon the same excitement he had felt in his previous life. Instead, he could only feel a vague sense of melancholy welling up within him.
According to tradition, the first-years had to cross the lake by boat, just as the four Founders had done. Draco did not rush to board a boat, but watched quietly, wanting to observe who Potter would go with.
Draco had to pay attention to these details. Longbottom's constant loss of his toad had been a reminder to Draco.
He remembered that in his previous life, the toad had gone missing on the train, and Longbottom had been crying throughout the journey, which had been quite irritating. It was not until Hagrid found the toad while checking the empty boats before entering the gates of Hogwarts Castle.
In this life, he had been tempted to help Hermione find it in advance. But it had still escaped, and Longbottom continued to cry throughout the journey, as if he could not escape the fate of being losing the toad once again.
Just as Draco was thinking silently, just as in his previous life, Potter, Weasley, Hermione and Longbottom took a boat together.
At this moment, it seemed as though fate would remain unchanged as long as he did not interfere, Draco thought.
And even if he did interfere, it seemed that fate would adjust accordingly, attempting to put everything back in place, such as with the lost toad.
Later, he must observe and see whether Longbottom's toad would return on its own.