"Draco, I suddenly realise that I am not brave at all." She looked at him with teary eyes and could not help but say, "I am not the heroine you described. I cannot even solve any problems. I always feel that I do not like either of these paths. The path I would prefer is closed to me."
Merlin, why is she about to cry? Did I say something too harsh? Draco panicked.
"No, no, that is not it." He said hurriedly, brushing the snowflakes from her hair. "You are very brave. You have learned some of the cruel truths of this world, discovered the problems, and are still willing to try to find ways to solve them. That in itself is a kind of courage."
"Is that so?" She bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with a misty light.
"Of course! Someone as cowardly as me, the first thing I do upon learning the truth is run away, cover my ears, and refuse to hear another word. I never think about solving any problems." Draco made a face, trying to tease her. "I am a coward, am I not?"
Hermione was indeed amused by him and managed to smile slightly, forcing back her tears.
"Draco, you are always like this! Always belittling yourself." She buried her face in his scarf, always feeling that it carried a fresh and pleasant scent... enough to bring her inner peace.
She took a deep breath and said to him, "I do not think you are not brave. I think it is also brave to see through the cruel reality, to embrace it, and even to seriously explain this cruel reality to me."
Draco raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. He was in a good mood, but still decided to contradict her. "No, I am still that cowardly Slytherin. Do not forget that, I shall never be a Gryffindor. I shall never be associated with courage."
Hermione did not rush to respond to him, but instead looked at him quietly with a probing gaze that made him uncomfortable.
Draco lowered his head, hastily trying to find another topic. "Oh, your hands are shaking too. Are the gloves too thin? Why do you not put them in your pockets?"
The girl blushed slightly, lowered her eyes, and remained silent.
He suddenly remembered that she had been clutching his robe. So, impulsively, he put one of her hands into his pocket. "See, is it warm now? This way I can walk beside you without you feeling cold, can I not?"
She buried her face in the silver-green scarf and mumbled a soft "hmm."
"Let us go, it is getting late," he said cheerfully, leading the girl who had her hand in his pocket, slowly making their way down the somewhat slippery, icy road.
They fell silent.
They walked in silence through the snow, avoiding the slippery ice and muddy potholes.
Both of them pondered the question of "what is courage," wondering whether they were truly brave, while simultaneously savouring each other's words of affirmation and finding a small measure of comfort in them.
Only after entering the gates of Hogwarts and reaching the entrance hall did Hermione take her warm hand out of his pocket before speaking solemnly again.
"Draco, I am not angry any more, not at all. And I do not mind that you hid Professor Lupin's secret from me any more. Because I have just suddenly realised something."
She smiled and looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a brilliant starlight... even though there were no stars today... a very dazzling starlight.
"What is it?" he asked uneasily, sensing a trap looming in her eyes that was about to lead him astray.
In the glow of the torches in the entrance hall, a gleam of triumph shone on her face, her eyes gleaming with unwavering certainty:
"You have not told anyone about this! You are keeping his secret, are you not? You secretly want to preserve this opportunity for him, do you not? You speak the most heartless and cold words, seemingly opposing him and hoping he will leave quickly; but in reality, you are very kind, you do not want to hurt him, do you?"
Draco glanced at her in alarm.
There was indeed a trap in her eyes. Beneath the trap lay a gentle blade. With words as her weapon, she had unearthed something in his soul that had never existed before.
"I... I just do not want to meddle!" He cowered, like a snake about to be caught at its vital spot.
"Yes, that is right. You are not brave, not kind, not even gentle." She smiled and echoed him, her expression somewhat meaningful, not at all as if she genuinely agreed with him.
She seemed to be saying something ironic that he could not understand.
Draco let out a short breath, wanting to put on his mask of indifference and utter some harsh words to save face; but she beat him to it, taking off the silver-green scarf and placing it back in his hands, announcing to him in a cheerful tone:
"I also discovered something today that has been bothering me for three years. It turns out that the silver-green scarf and the gold-red scarf are exactly the same. They are both equally warm. They are both... very lovely. Thank you, Draco."
Then she smiled shyly at him and quickly walked into the hall.
All that remained was a stunned, bewildered, and agitated Draco Malfoy, clutching the scarf... the silver-green scarf still warm from her touch... feeling that his palms were no longer empty and his heart no longer desolate.
Hermione, Hermione, how could you say that?
It is as though you do not hate me at all.
It is as though you think I am likeable.
He stood frozen in the entrance hall, clutching the scarf tightly, his body as stiff as armour that had not been moved in a castle for years, unable to speak or move.
He stood there stunned for a long time.
Some time later, when he returned home for Christmas, he sat in an armchair in front of the fireplace in his own library, still staring blankly at a book titled A Study of the Development of Modern Witchcraft.
He could not concentrate on his studies. He was still thinking about his conversation with Hermione before the holidays.
He was completely unaware of when his mother had appeared, or how long she had been silently observing him.
"Draco..."