Professor Flitwick might not have fully grasped what was going on with Ron, but the young wizards who'd been paying attention had a pretty good idea.
So when class ended, Ron had to face curious stares from fellow Gryffindors and probing glances from the Slytherins.
Maybe none of them meant anything by it, but the ever-sensitive Ron interpreted every look as mockery.
As if they were saying—
He couldn’t even cast a simple charm. He’s nothing like his brilliant brothers...
“Damn it!”
Clutching the battered wand in his hand, Ron couldn’t stop thinking about the way those Slytherins looked at him—like he was some pathetic charity case.
His gaze toward Hermione darkened with resentment.
It was clear now—he blamed her for everything.
While the Weasleys were far from negligent parents—arguably better than many wizarding families—having so many children meant Ron, the youngest son, was sometimes overlooked.
And boys’ pride can be a fragile thing, often leading to reckless behavior.
Maybe Ron wasn’t a bad kid. Maybe he didn’t truly mean anything cruel.
But when anger clouds your judgment, there’s no room for rational thought.
Especially after embarrassing himself in front of a pretty girl and his peers. That kind of shame was enough to spark a storm of impulsiveness.
Just like what happened after Hermione humiliated him in Charms class...
Still, maybe he had some boundaries—or maybe he knew he couldn’t win against Hermione.
So instead of lashing out physically, Ron lashed out with words.
And he didn’t bother to lower his voice. Even Draco and the others, a good distance away, could hear him loud and clear.
“No wonder everyone can’t stand her. Honestly, she’s like a walking nightmare.”
Ron forced his way through the packed corridor, gritting his teeth as he spoke to Harry.
He didn’t say her name, but his tone and the way he mimicked her gestures made it painfully obvious who he was talking about.
After all...
Nearly everyone in Charms class had witnessed what happened earlier.
Maybe only the ever-confused Neville still looked at Ron with a puzzled expression...
Just as Harry was about to speak up, someone suddenly bumped into him hard. He looked up, but only caught a glimpse of the person’s back as they hurried away.
Still, that figure felt familiar.
“That was... Granger, wasn’t it?”
“.........”
“.........”
From that point on, Draco could no longer hear what Harry and Ron were saying.
But it was already enough to understand the situation...
…
“Talking trash about someone right in front of them—did Gryffindors have their emotional intelligence eaten by dogs or something?”
Pansy gave Draco a look of pure disdain as she glanced at Ron, her tone dripping with contempt.
A moment later, as if something occurred to her, she tilted her head and shot Draco a sideways look.
“Your little idiot's getting bullied.”
Though it sounded like she was teasing him, Pansy was actually curious—would Draco do something?
Would he whip out his wand and hex that Weasley?
Or maybe storm over and throw a punch to vent his anger?
Whatever the method, Pansy was convinced Draco would react somehow. That was the Draco she remembered from before school started.
After all, Draco was a Malfoy—someone others saw as a villain.
It’s not that evil dragons don’t fly.
Maybe they’re just asleep.
But what Pansy really wanted to know was—how far would Draco go?
Slytherins might be represented by snakes, but that didn’t mean they were cold-blooded. When it came to friends, they were loyal and sincere.
If someone earned their recognition, they could gain their loyalty.
Draco had never said outright that they were friends, but there was no denying that Hermione Granger held a place in his heart.
Faced with Pansy’s probing words, Draco silently watched the figure retreating into the crowd...
That small frame, head bowed low, clearly not wanting anyone to see her face, stumbling through the sea of students.
Was that really the same Hermione who usually stood so proud and confident in front of him?
Draco’s grey eyes darkened, a flicker of anger surfacing...
“Goyle. Crabbe.”
“What’s up, Draco?”
“Want some pumpkin candy? I’ve still got a few left.”
Draco didn’t even turn around, nor did he reach for the candy. Strangely, he didn’t even mock the two gluttons this time.
That moment made Goyle and Crabbe both sober up a little. They felt a pressure coming off Draco they couldn’t ignore.
Without a word, they tossed the food in their hands aside.
Judging by how naturally they did it, this probably wasn’t the first time something like this had happened...
“Go find out what just happened to that little wildcat... Hermione Granger.”
“From Gryffindor?”
“No problem, Draco. Leave it to us.”
Draco gave a slight nod, then hesitated before adding,
“Also... make sure she doesn’t wander off.”
“Who? Oh—got it!”
As she watched Goyle and Crabbe rolling up their sleeves like they were about to interrogate someone, Pansy rolled her eyes and couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy at Draco’s reaction.
“So what about Weasley—what are you going to do about him?”
“Him? Hmph. He’s not even worth getting angry over.”
“.........”
Pansy looked at Draco’s aloof expression and couldn’t help wanting to call him out.
You’re acting like this and still saying you’re not angry?
Draco ignored her look completely and started walking toward the Slytherin common room.
Pansy huffed, stomped her foot in frustration, and quickly followed after him...