Harry Potter’s return to Hogwarts caused quite a stir. Aside from a few exceptions, nearly everyone wanted to hear firsthand what had happened from Harry and his friends.
The Ministry’s plans, the details of Sirius Black’s capture—whichever it was, they were fascinating stories in the eyes of young wizards eager for gossip.
Yet what puzzled everyone was that not only Harry Potter but even Ron Weasley—who normally couldn’t keep a secret to save his life—remained unusually silent about the whole thing, as though afraid of revealing something important by accident.
Of course, the more they kept quiet, the more curious and suspicious everyone became.
For the past several days, crowds of students had gathered around Harry and his friends wherever they went. The sight of wizards following them down every corridor had become commonplace—a level of attention that nearly rivaled Draco’s usual popularity.
Though the nature of that attention was entirely different...
...
As the end of Draco’s third year approached, something else—besides Harry Potter’s return—disrupted Hogwarts’ usual rhythm.
Professor Lupin’s identity as a werewolf had somehow been exposed.
“Who could’ve imagined it would end like this?”
Pansy’s sigh drew everyone’s attention in the train compartment.
Yes, Draco and his friends were on the Hogwarts Express, heading home after finishing their third year.
“Exactly. But I doubt Gryffindor’s captain ever imagined they’d lose their Seeker before the next match.”
“But boss lady, if it hadn’t happened, this year’s House Cup might’ve actually gone to Potter and his lot.”
“True. If the term hadn’t ended early, who knows what kind of points they would’ve gotten at the end-of-term feast? Don’t forget, our so-called Savior captured Sirius Black.”
As she said this, Pansy recalled the past events, and her tone grew sharper with each word.
Draco could only resist rolling his eyes—especially since Pansy, while talking, didn’t forget to cast a disdainful look toward a certain someone nearby.
After all, a Gryffindor witch was sitting right there.
“Say what you want, but please don’t look at me like that. You know that’s not something I could’ve decided,” Hermione said, raising her brows and glaring back in irritation. She had no trouble catching the implication in Pansy’s words.
Still, Pansy’s comment wasn’t entirely without merit. There was precedent for such things, after all—and Hermione had noticed back then that the points awarded had seemed... off.
“Besides, this isn’t what we should be talking about right now,” Hermione continued. “What matters is whether those people have returned.”
“.....”
“.....”
The mood in the compartment shifted. Aside from Goyle and Crabbe, Pansy’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious, and Draco quietly lifted his eyes from the book in his hands to look at Hermione.
Meanwhile, Goyle and Crabbe, oblivious to the tension, were still focused on their food.
Closing his book, Draco looked at the two of them. “You two, stand outside. Until I say otherwise, no one is to come near this compartment.”
“Got it, Draco.”
“Mhm.”
They didn’t understand what was happening, but Goyle and Crabbe obeyed without question, passing on Draco’s instructions to the Slytherins waiting outside.
Dim-witted as they might seem, simple tasks like this were well within their ability. At the very least, just standing guard at the door was enough to make any passing wizard think twice before approaching...
...
Once Goyle and Crabbe had left the compartment, Draco finally lowered the book in his hands and fixed his gaze—those signature Malfoy gray eyes—on Hermione sitting across from him.
The sudden heaviness in the air didn’t intimidate her. On the contrary, her own eyes gleamed with the sharp light of intellect.
“Judging from your reactions, I must be right. Those mysterious hooded figures from before... they were Death Eaters, weren’t they?”
“Afterward, I read about the Dark Mark and its purpose on a Death Eater’s arm. That’s why you asked Parkinson to investigate, isn’t it, Draco?”
“Mm. You two were the only ones with the means and opportunity to approach those people.”
Hermione spoke with excitement, her eyes bright as she eagerly shared everything she had pieced together. From the looks of it, she had managed to deduce all of this on her own, using nothing more than a few small clues.
It was clear that when Draco had asked Pansy to investigate those individuals that day, Hermione had immediately sensed something was off and followed the trail of details to reach her conclusions.
Whether she was right or not, the display left Pansy utterly speechless. She had never imagined Hermione could be this sharp.
“Hold on a second—do you even realize what you’re saying?”
“So, I was right then.”
“Right? That’s not the point! Honestly, you Gryffindors never use your heads.”
Compared to Hermione’s bold deductions, Pansy knew from her own investigation that things weren’t nearly so simple. This wasn’t something to throw around carelessly.
Thinking of what she had uncovered, Pansy instinctively glanced toward Draco.
Catching her look, Draco finally spoke.
“Have you mentioned any of this to anyone else? Potter, perhaps?”
“...No, I haven’t.”
At that question, a flicker of irritation crossed Hermione’s face.
Ever since Harry Potter had returned to school, he and the others had made a habit of badmouthing Slytherin—and warning her to stay away from Draco.
It wasn’t something Hermione had ever told Draco.
And perhaps that was why she hadn’t chosen to sit in the same compartment as Harry and the others...
“So, what do you make of it?”
“Draco!?”
“Trust me, this idiot’s a lot smarter than you think.”
Hermione, who had been smiling just a moment ago, puffed out her cheeks in frustration at Draco’s teasing remark.
So then... was she the idiot? Or the clever one?