"We have finally got our revenge," Pansy said. "The newspapers even hinted that Peter Pettigrew might be connected to the recent Chamber of Secrets incident at Hogwarts. Now they cannot take their anger out on us over the Chamber of Secrets anymore. To be honest, I am tired of arguing with them." She took off her bag and gestured to the tables of the other three houses.
"Nevertheless, I highly doubt that Salazar Slytherin would have chosen such a sleazy student from Gryffindor as his heir," Blaise said disapprovingly.
Pansy smiled indifferently, "Whether it is true or false, who cares? Anyway, as long as someone takes the blame, that is fine."
That is right. Cornelius Fudge just wanted to quell the situation as quickly as possible and did not want to delve into the truth, Draco thought with a conflicted expression.
"Draco, well done." Marcus Flint, who had just walked over, raised his eyebrows and said with high spirits, "But do not let your fame go to your head. We have a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw in a couple of days... Hopefully you can play as well as you did last time..."
After he finished speaking, he thought for a moment and added, "Of course, do not let it fall off the broom again... I will check the rogue Bludger carefully." It seemed that the last rogue Bludger had also frightened him quite a bit.
Draco nodded and smiled at him.
Marcus was burning with rage, determined to make a run for this year's Quidditch Cup. He trained three times a week, sometimes even forcing the team to do extra practice. Draco understood him—last year's Slytherin had been utterly thrashed.
But not all students can regain their senses like Marcus and continue doing what they should be doing.
The students at Hogwarts were abuzz with the news, regarding Draco and the Weasley twins as heroes. As they walked down the corridor, the students around them pointed excitedly, whispered amongst themselves, or stared at them with awe.
This is understandable. Three months have passed since the last monster attack in the Chamber, and nothing has happened since. The fear of the Chamber has gradually faded, and almost everyone believes that the attackers have given up and abandoned this cruel game.
Coupled with the vague hint in the newspaper, most students believed that Peter Pettigrew was the mastermind behind the Chamber and had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Moreover, during the Herbology class, Professor Sprout happily announced some good news: the Mandrake was showing signs of ripening.
"Yesterday, a few Mandrakes had a noisy party in the greenhouse," she said enthusiastically. "They will be ready when they want to be repotted."
This brought a sigh of relief to all the students who heard the news.
This meant that those poor souls who had been Petrified would soon be saved. The students, too, became more enthusiastic when helping to compost the squeaking Mandrakes.
"Draco, are you hiding from me?" Hermione strode up to him and caught him.
"No." His gaze drifted to the Venomous Tentacula hanging from the ceiling. Remembering Professor Burbage he had seen that morning, his heart tightened, and he shrank back slightly.
"No way! You were so nervous this morning you would not even look me in the eye, were you?" She was holding a flowerpot, brushing aside the lush Mandrake leaves, and complained to him fiercely. "I have always felt something was off about your attitude towards that rat. And the question you asked me in Transfiguration class... Did you not say you would tell me once you figured it out? You broke your promise! Harry was the one who told me the whole story!"
Draco could no longer drift off into daydreams. Looking at her vibrant, lively face, he could not ignore her for a moment.
"It happened so suddenly. We were sure there was something wrong with the rat, so we immediately took it to the Headmaster's office. I have to thank you for that Muggle fairy tale tip. It was very helpful." He explained as he quickly caught the bowl that had slipped from her arms.
That was close!
"Thank you." She was startled. "This flowerpot is unusually heavy."
"You are welcome." A slight smile appeared on his face.
Clumsy, know-it-all girl—where has all the cleverness from Potions class gone?
"All right, I understand the need to act expediently in an emergency. But how exactly did you figure out that the rat was an Animagus? That is not something you can just dismiss with intuition or inspiration..." Hermione looked at him curiously, her eyes shining like searchlights, as if trying to find some evidence on his face.
"It is an unspeakable secret." He shushed her, which earned him a cold snort from her.
"A Slytherin boy full of secrets!" she muttered under her breath, looking unwilling, and prepared to go to the front to move more flowerpots.
"Let me do it. How many more pots do you need to move?" he asked her.
"Six pots," she said sternly. "I can carry them myself."
"Come on," he said lazily, his mood improving. "Those skilful hands that brew Polyjuice Potion are not for heavy lifting. Why do you not hold this flowerpot steady? That Mandrake is practically sprouting out..."
She quickly steadied the flowerpot and pressed the Mandrake plant into the soil. Seeing him so diligently carrying the flowerpot for her, she could not bring herself to frown at him.
Then came the repetitive work of composting. Hermione held the pot and watched him fertilise the sulking Mandrake with a look of disgust, and suddenly found it quite amusing to see his gritted teeth and helpless expression.
She finally could not help but smile at him.
"Draco, do you think Peter Pettigrew was behind the Chamber of Secrets incident?" She was in a good mood and started asking questions again.
"Of course not," Draco said. "If he were to go to the Chamber of Secrets, he would only be the Basilisk's dessert."
"I think so too," she said softly. "We still cannot be careless, right?"
"That is right." He gave her a deep look. "Stay alert, be careful, all right?"
Yes, that is it, Draco convinced himself. He could not ignore her until the matter of the Chamber of Secrets was resolved.
She is not safe. She could be harmed at any moment. How could he possibly feel at ease and keep his distance from her?
After Herbology class, Draco and several Slytherin classmates walked through the vegetable garden, intending to go back to their dormitory for a quick shower, but were unexpectedly stopped by Ron.
"Why did you not just tell me?" Ron said with a gloomy face. "You have suspected Scabbers for a whilst now, have you not? I knew it was because you were staring at it so much lately. Why did you go through all that trouble and have George and Fred take Scabbers away?"
Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, looking on with anticipation, eagerly drew their wands—they had never liked the Gryffindors, and had only refrained from arguing with "certain people" in the past because of Draco.
Now, seeing someone actively looking for trouble, they could not help but feel a little excited.
"You have replaced Crabbe and Goyle with new bodyguards after all?" Ron did not move, glanced at them, and said contemptuously.
Pansy glared at him. Blaise's face also turned cold.
Draco knew Ron's words had stirred up a hornet's nest. Pansy and Blaise were both incredibly proud. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle, they were not heartless. They would never accept being treated as inferior servants or bodyguards. These words deeply offended them.
"You ungrateful wretch!" Pansy pointed the tip of her wand at Ron, giving him a threatening look. "He saved your life, you know that? That rat could have killed you at any moment, you idiot..."
"What is it to you? You—" Ron said angrily.
"There is no need to insult my friend, Ron. I do not think you are the type to take your anger out on others," Draco said, turning to Blaise, whose face had darkened. "You should know he is angry at me, it has nothing to do with you. You take Pansy and leave."
Blaise gave Ron a once-over and a dismissive "hmm." Ron's face flushed red.
"Blaise, you dare, you dare try to pull me..." Amid Pansy's threatening words, Blaise shoved and pushed her away, taking her with him as she looked back every few steps.
Before leaving, Blaise spat on the ground. "Weasley, use your brain! Do not push your luck!"
"Let us go, let us go." Draco waved to them and smiled reassuringly.
Once they were far enough away that they would not suddenly rush back to stir things up, Draco said calmly, "I admit I deliberately kept it from you. I thought that was the only way to maximise efficiency and success rate."
"Me, drag down your efficiency? Hinder your great progress towards obtaining the Order of Merlin, Second Class?" Ron said with a mocking expression, his face as red as his hair.
"That is not what I meant. I just thought you would not hand it over to me easily," Draco patiently explained.
"This is my rat! Of course I have the right not to give it to you, the right to question it, and the right to be angry!" Ron shouted angrily at him.
"That is the problem. I certainly respect your rights. But if I may be frank, whilst we were arguing about whether Scabbers was an Animagus, he may very well have already escaped." Draco calmly pointed out the issue. "You know that wizards can understand human speech in their Animagus form, right?"
Ron choked. He realised Draco had a point, but he just did not want to admit it.
"I completely understand how you feel. I know you love that rat—even though you complain every day that it is listless and useless—you have been concerned about its health and taken good care of it." Draco said with a hint of helplessness.
It was precisely because he understood Ron's obsessive love for the rat that he had to take extra precautions to ensure the capture of Peter Pettigrew went smoothly. He continued, "That is why I am certain I cannot get the rat directly from you in a very short time."
Ron was furious.
Why does Draco have the right to define him arbitrarily, and then try to act as if he is trying to understand his thoughts?
A feeling of betrayal welled up inside him, along with a deep sense of injustice—the injustice that Draco did not believe he could make the right choice.