After all, in the end, Potter's out of control broom did not alert the school.
"We told Professor McGonagall exactly what happened when Quirrell cursed Harry, and Professor McGonagall promised to tell Professor Dumbledore." Hermione was furious during Transfiguration class. She whispered to him, "But the school has never punished Quirrell!"
This outcome might have angered those in the know, Draco thought calmly. Even he, let alone the Weasley twins, was somewhat surprised by how the matter was handled.
It seems Dumbledore did not realize the seriousness of the situation. He seems determined to use Quirrell as a whetstone in Potter's path to growth.
But perhaps this time, even a great wizard like Dumbledore will misjudge the situation.
Quirrell is not simply a remnant of the Dark Lord's followers. If the Dark Lord behind him is not restrained and allowed to return to power, it will bring immeasurable and serious consequences.
Draco remembered that in his previous life, Quirrell had been brought to justice, but the Dark Lord's soul escaped. Later, with the help of Peter Pettigrew, the Dark Lord regained his physical form, plunging the entire wizarding world back into darkness.
Draco thought of Malfoy Manor in his previous life, where the once magnificent house had been turned into a filthy mess, all thanks to the Dark Lord. And from beginning to end, someone had long since noticed the signs of danger, but shortsightedly let it run rampant. Did he not find that ridiculous?
Filled with anger, he kicked a snowdrift by the roadside, getting his shiny black leather shoes covered in dirty snow water.
In this protracted game of wizards and chaotic battles, every player has their own calculations, and no one is completely selfless.
There is no one.
It should have been expected, should it not?
What is there to be angry about?
He tried to calm himself down, then lazily waved his wand, using a Cleaning Charm to remove the grime.
Exposing the Dark Lord was not actually that difficult. Draco took a deep breath, thinking as he walked. If I remove his turban in public, everyone will understand.
The problem is that this dangerous soul should not be underestimated. Once exposed, it will be difficult to find any trace of it, whether it takes advantage of the chaos to possess other people at Hogwarts or escapes to a place outside of Hogwarts again.
How can one deal with an elusive and intangible soul?
Even after entering the Potions classroom in the dungeons, Draco was still absentmindedly pondering the question.
"Ron and I have been practicing the Leg Locker Curse lately. Next time Quirrell casts a curse on Harry, we will make sure he cannot move." In the last row of the underground classroom, amidst the rising steam from the cauldron, Hermione, who had once again come to partner with him, slammed a lionfish spine heavily onto the workbench and said fiercely.
This rash act finally drew his attention back from the annoying Dark Lord.
"Wait!" He grabbed her wrist to prevent her from touching the spine again.
"What is wrong?" She turned around and looked at him in surprise.
The boy before me is holding my wrist.
His hands are icy cold, yet the grip on my hand is gentle, like snow.
I cannot think about Quirrell anymore. Hermione only felt her face growing slightly warm from the steam of the cauldron.
Draco took a pair of dragonhide gloves from his pocket, patted them into her palm, and released her wrist, which looked like it could snap at any moment. A slight sense of loss lingered in his mind as he said calmly, "Wear these before grinding. Lionfish spines are no joke. They might spit venom."
"Oh, thank you." She realized what she had done, and holding the gloves, her brown eyes no longer filled with anger, but with a hint of a smile.
"And goggles." While she was putting on her gloves, he frowned and glanced at her, feeling that her bright eyes also needed some protection.
"Is this not a bit excessive?" She looked troubled. "The gloves are so thick, and wearing goggles would be difficult. Maybe we should not wear them."
"Let me help you." He grabbed a pair of goggles and started putting them on her head.
"Is this not a bit exaggerated?" She glanced shyly at her classmates, then at the serious looking boy before her, her tone slightly resistant. "Look, no one else is wearing this."
"Their operation is irregular and unsafe," he explained to her.
"Draco, I must admit, I do not like goggles, not merely because they are inconvenient to work with gloves on, but also because..." Hermione said in a low voice with a pained expression, "Every time I wear them, the strap gets a few strands of hair caught in it, and it hurts terribly."
"I understand. I will be careful. All right?" He raised his grey eyes and finally met her gaze briefly.
Hermione stared straight into his eyes and could not help but nod.
So he bent down and tilted his head to help her adjust the length of the goggle straps.
That Slytherin boy, he is doing it again, she thought absently in the flickering candlelight of the dungeons.
He appeared indifferent, and his words were shockingly brief. Yet, at the same time, he was clearly taking care of her, being considerate and attentive, and even making a fuss about whether she was safe.
He was intently adjusting the stubborn binding strap, his lips pressed tightly together, his pointed chin very close to her profile. For some reason, a hint of tenderness flickered in his usually somewhat aloof, pale grey eyes.
Hermione stared at the color in his eyes, somewhat dazed.
His eyes are so beautiful, like shards of glass, both bright and soft.
"Oh, it is all right if it catches my hair," after a moment of stunned silence, she suddenly came to her senses and said in a flustered manner.
She did not want to put any pressure on him. She frowned slightly, waiting for the pain to strike, her tone tinged with a hint of resignation. "I have so much hair, it is hard not to..."
"Done," Draco said, a slight smile playing on his lips on the side she could not see.
Hermione was utterly astonished. He had actually put it on her completely.
Gently, meticulously, and swiftly.
Not a single hair was caught.
Even she herself could not do it flawlessly, so how did he manage it? Hermione wondered in astonishment.
"Thank you," she said, stammering.
He nodded at her with satisfaction, then turned around and went to stir the potion in their cauldron.
Look at a boy like this, how could you refuse his help? And why would you want to find anyone else to be your partner?
Anyone else would seem clumsy compared to him.
Does it truly matter whether he is a Slytherin or not?
Whether he is indifferent or not, whether he smiles or not, what does it matter?
Anyway, Lavender and the others were completely wrong! I have already seen him smile, and I might be the only one in the whole school who has ever seen him smile! His smile is definitely the most handsome in the whole school, absolutely! Hermione ground the powder fiercely, making considerable noise, feeling extremely unsettled.
Draco had no idea what she was struggling with. He assumed her outburst was because she was still upset about Quirrell.
"In fact, I think you should practice Petrificus Totalus and Langlock." Watching her overly indignant grinding motions, he slowly stirred their potion and reminded her, "When facing an adult wizard stronger than you, it is best to incapacitate him as quickly as possible, so that he cannot wave his wand or cast spells."
"Langlock?" Hermione forgot her anger and said with interest, "How come I have never heard of that spell before? It must be very advanced!"
"Oh, I forgot where I read it, but the effect is to stick a person's tongue to the roof of their mouth, making them unable to speak," Draco said somewhat guiltily, touching his nose.
Langlock was a spell he had learned during his previous life when he and Potter were dueling each other.
"Given that some wizards may use nonverbal spells, relying solely on Langlock would still carry some risk. I think Petrificus Totalus is the first choice," he quickly added.
She looked at him with awe, her expression one of a young girl's adoration. "Draco, you know so much. It seems like there is no problem you cannot solve. I have always been curious, how can a first year student like you know so much magic?"
"Perhaps I am like you, enjoying reading extracurricular books for leisure," Draco said casually, glancing at her as he did so.
Hermione Granger's adoration.
How rare. I should remember that unusual expression.
"And what is this stack of books?" He nodded slightly at the large volumes on Hermione's desk.
"I am investigating Nicolas Flamel. I have searched through Notable Magical Names of Our Time, but I cannot find him anywhere. We suspect he is connected to what Fluffy is guarding. Hagrid accidentally told us it is a matter between Nicolas Flamel and Dumbledore." Hermione looked troubled as she said this.
"If I were you, I would check books about older wizards." Draco finished weighing the lionfish spine powder and, when Professor Snape was not looking, whispered to Hermione, "Think about it, how old is Dumbledore this year? His friends might be even older than him. Some wizards can live for hundreds of years."
These words were like a revelation! Hermione's eyes lit up instantly.
"I think you are right! Now I have so many new ideas! I shall probably have to make a few more trips to the library. There are probably several rows of books available to consult..." A flash of inspiration struck her, and a beaming smile spread across her face. "Thank you, Draco."
Draco shrugged at her, and before her smile could infect him, he quickly lowered his eyes.