Chapter 137
Hermione flipped quickly through the newspaper, skipping over things she already knew—or even understood better than the reporter. She had learned most of it through the truth serum, and in greater detail.
These parts were useless to her. They didn't help her understand what had really happened.
"Hermione, stop reading. You need to rest," Harry said, reaching out to hold down a corner of the paper.
"The rest is just the reporter exaggerating things. Don't take it seriously," Ron added, though Harry shot him a warning look. That sounded far too revealing.
Hermione paid no attention to them. She pulled the newspaper back and continued reading.
"…After his scheme was exposed, Peter Pettigrew flew into a rage. In desperation, he attempted to capture our savior, Harry Potter, in order to avenge his master. However, he did not know that long before this, Draco Malfoy—pretending to remain under his control—had already secretly informed Headmaster Dumbledore and helped set an inescapable trap. To avoid alerting the enemy, this plan had been kept strictly confidential…"
"As for why he did not seek help from the Ministry of Magic? The actions of Minister Fudge must have left a deep impression on our readers. I am not surprised by Draco Malfoy's decision. The following represents my personal opinion and does not reflect the position of the Daily Prophet.
"It is time for Fudge to step down. I even suspect that he may have colluded with Peter Pettigrew. If this student had gone to him, I believe he would have suppressed the truth to protect his position."
"Fudge is capable of such actions. Please see page three for details. Our reporter conducted an in-depth investigation within the Ministry. The crimes committed by the Dementors were far more serious than previously reported, but were concealed under Fudge's policy of suppression. When a Minister loses public trust, it is time for him to resign…"
Hermione stared at the page.
She clearly remembered that it had been Malfoy who provided Fudge with information about Sirius at Hogsmeade. That was why Pettigrew had been pushed into the spotlight during the festival.
A chilling realization surfaced in her mind.
Fudge had been manipulated as well.
"It's time to go, Ron," Harry whispered, gripping Ron's shoulder. "She's getting to the important part. It'll be awkward if we stay."
He half-pulled, half-dragged Ron out of the ward.
Hermione, completely absorbed, didn't even notice they clarifying left.
"…Unfortunately, Pettigrew had already lost his sanity. As capture became inevitable, he kidnapped a Hogwarts student…"
"Rita Skeeter really does know how to write," a familiar voice said from her left.
Hermione froze.
A hand reached over and took the newspaper from her.
"A cliché hero-rescues-the-damsel story, and she still manages to make it emotional. That's her talent," the boy said with a soft laugh.
Blond hair. Casual tone.
Draco Malfoy stood beside the bed, looking down at her.
"From the look in your eyes, the confusion is gone. I suppose you've already figured it out. Am I right, Miss Granger?"
Hermione didn't even have the energy to be angry at the article, which portrayed her as a foolish girl who had fallen in love with her rescuer at first sight. She had more important questions.
"You—"
"This isn't how you should treat your savior," Malfoy interrupted calmly, placing the newspaper back on the bedside table.
"That's all I can tell you. Listen carefully, and don't interrupt."
He began pacing beside the bed, glancing around to confirm they were alone.
"Your memory is correct. If it had been altered, the story would match the newspaper exactly—and that would have been the end of it. But an old man objected. So that plan was abandoned."
Malfoy shrugged.
"You've probably guessed most of what happened. But it would be best if you don't try to tell the truth. Otherwise, those two who were finally cleared might end up cooperating with another investigation because of your testimony."
"Professor Lupin and Sirius—are they alright?" Hermione asked urgently, her face flushing with sudden hope.
"At least they're better off than you," Malfoy said, glancing at her lying weakly in the bed.
Her guilt vanished almost instantly. The outcome was what mattered.
She wanted to ask more—about Moody, about Malfoy's role, about everything—but those questions suddenly felt beyond her reach.
"Thank you," she said at last, the words coming out with difficulty.
"What I said before still stands," Malfoy replied lightly. "Fix your hair and your teeth first. Then, maybe I'll consider accepting your thanks."
He waved dismissively and walked out without looking back.
Hermione clutched the bedsheet, staring at his retreating figure, her face burning with embarrassment and anger.
The door closed softly behind him.
Silence returned to the ward.
Outside, Malfoy dropped into a chair and let out a long breath.
"Playing the villain who bullies a helpless girl… that was exhausting," he muttered to himself.
He lowered his head, still recovering. Over the past few days, he had switched between too many roles—calculating strategist, negotiator, obedient student, deceiver without hesitation. It had drained him completely.
Then his expression brightened.
A long silver beard had entered his view.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore. It's been a while."
Dumbledore stood before him, blue eyes studying him carefully.
"You've given me quite a difficult problem," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard with mild reproach.
"With your sense of responsibility, you would have found another solution anyway," Malfoy replied casually. "How are they?"
"There are no further issues," Dumbledore said.
"And the rat?" Malfoy asked.
"See for yourself."
Dumbledore raised his wand.
A bright white light flashed, and a large projection appeared on the wall opposite them.
A thin rat was running frantically, its small eyes darting nervously as it fled through darkness.
It was surrounded by dense undergrowth and needle-like plants that blocked out the light. Even though it was daytime, the forest floor was dim and shadowy. Dry leaves crackled beneath its feet as it ran.
From time to time, the distant roars of large beasts echoed through the forest, filling the scene with a sense of danger.