“That was terrifying!
How can the school keep something that dangerous inside the castle?
Good thing Potter properly escorted you back…”
“He’s not that bad, is he?
Still, getting so scared your legs gave out is a little—”
“Parkinson!”
The next morning at the Slytherin table, Draca, Daphne, and Pansy were still discussing the previous night’s frightening experience.
Seeing the mischievous grin on Pansy’s face, Draca immediately realized where she was going with this.
Embarrassed, she flushed red and hurriedly cut her off.
“If you’re so brave, you can go take a look at it yourself!”
“No thanks.
I’m not that interested in breaking school rules.”
Pansy smiled smugly at Draca’s embarrassment.
Compared to her own lively personality, her two closest friends were respectively gentle and reserved, and coldly dignified.
Seeing those two usually composed girls become awkward and shy in front of her never failed to delight Pansy.
Draca merely shot her a mildly irritated glare.
Then she gently took the silver milk jug from Daphne’s hand, poured some into her slightly strong breakfast tea, picked up a teaspoon, and stirred it slowly.
Her thoughts, however, had already returned to something she’d glimpsed in the middle of last night’s panic.
Perhaps because she’d remained crouched for most of the encounter, she’d managed to notice something the others hadn’t.
There seemed to be a trapdoor beneath the three-headed dog’s feet.
Draca couldn’t help becoming suspicious.
Had Professor Dumbledore’s warning at the start of term been meant only to keep students away from danger?
Or had it also hinted that some secret was hidden beneath that trapdoor in the third-floor corridor?
“Draca?”
Only when Daphne softly called her name did she come back to herself.
Apparently, she’d been stirring her tea the entire time she’d been lost in thought.
The silver spoon repeatedly tapped against the porcelain cup with several clear little clinks.
Draca stopped, took the cup by its handle, and sipped lightly.
Her eyes narrowed as she sank back into thought.
“What are you thinking about so seriously?”
“Or maybe you’re thinking about someone, Miss Malfoy?”
Even Pansy’s teasing seemed distant.
So did Crabbe and Goyle’s irritated complaints as they returned to the table.
Draca only vaguely caught part of what Crabbe was saying.
“We’re all first-years, so why is he the only one allowed to have a broom?”
“And it’s a Nimbus 2000!”
That’s so unfair.”
Apparently, they were furious about Harry Potter.
The moment Harry Potter was mentioned, Draca’s thoughts wandered again.
Her heartbeat seemed to quicken, almost as though she were back in front of the three-headed dog the night before.
Frowning at the unfamiliar sensation, she unconsciously pressed her left palm against her chest.
No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t understand why someone as rude as Harry had ended the night by offering her help like a gentleman.
After the adventure on the night of the duel, both Harry and Draca became noticeably more restrained around each other.
Draca still treated Ron and Neville as though they didn’t exist.
At the very least, however, she no longer seized every opportunity to clash with Harry as she had at the beginning of term.
Though naturally, both of them were still angry with the other.
What bothered Harry was that Draca had never thanked him.
That night, after all, he’d taken the risk of escorting Draca all the way back to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons before returning to Gryffindor Tower by himself.
If she’d been an ordinary friend, Harry certainly wouldn’t have cared about such a small thing.
What irritated him was Draca’s spoiled young-heiress attitude.
She was always talking about the etiquette expected of great families, yet now she couldn’t even manage a simple thank-you.
It wasn’t that Draca felt no gratitude.
But whenever she remembered how pathetic she’d looked that night, her face would flush with embarrassment and the words simply refused to come out.
Then, whenever her thoughts reached that point, she would inevitably start examining the matter more carefully.
If Harry Potter hadn’t broken the terms of their duel and brought along a whole group of unrelated people, Filch never would have noticed them in the first place.
Then they wouldn’t have been forced to flee and accidentally stumble into the third-floor corridor.
Each believed the other had been at fault.
Yet both also remembered the instant their eyes had met in front of the three-headed dog—and the frantic pounding in their chests.
Without their constant arguments, when they occasionally crossed paths around the school, they now did little more than glare fiercely at each other before quickly turning their heads away.
Of course, conflict was still unavoidable in the classes Slytherin and Gryffindor shared, particularly Potions and Flying.
Ever since the incident during the first Flying lesson, however, Madam Hooch’s attitude had become considerably milder.
The course had also progressed into explaining and memorizing the basic rules of Quidditch.
Draca found those lessons painfully dull and had no interest in competing with Harry there.
Potions was where Harry and Draca truly clashed.
Harry’s performance actually wasn’t bad.
In fact, he could be considered above average.
But beside Hermione and Draca, that level of ability was hardly impressive.
On top of that, whenever Professor Snape found the slightest opportunity, he would praise Draca while belittling Harry.
As a result, Potions became the perfect class for Slytherin to widen its lead in the House Cup.
Two months wasn’t a particularly long time.
But it was more than enough for the rivalry between Harry Potter and Draca Malfoy to become known throughout the school.
Draca could certainly keep pace with Granger in Potions.
But judging from the other professors’ evaluations, Granger had firmly secured the top position in their entire year in Charms, Herbology, and Transfiguration.
(History of Magic was too boring, while the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was far too useless, so Draca automatically excluded both subjects from consideration.)
Then, during their adventure that night, Draca had discovered that Hermione had somehow already learned the Full Body-Bind Curse as well.
That made Draca pay even closer attention to her.
Could someone born to a Muggle family truly possess this much magical talent?
Draca quietly asked Daphne to keep watch.
If possible, she wanted Daphne to find an opportunity when Granger was alone so Draca could have a proper conversation with her.
At first, she’d assumed this would be extremely easy.
After all, all the first-years understood that Granger’s aloof personality and outstanding academic performance had left her without anyone she could truly call a friend.
But that was precisely the problem.
Granger’s movements were limited almost entirely to the Great Hall, classrooms, library, and common room.
The common room was obviously impossible to enter, while the other locations always had professors or the librarian nearby.
So Draca could only continue waiting for an opportunity.
Meanwhile, their lessons finally moved beyond their general introductory material.
During Charms class in the week of Halloween, Professor Flitwick finally announced that from then on, after the first half hour of spell explanation, the remainder of each lesson could be used for practical spellcasting.
“Remember the wrist movement.
The important part is the swish and the flick.
Don’t overdo it.”
“Next comes the pronunciation and stress of the incantation.
Make absolutely sure you remember them.”
Professor Flitwick hadn’t even finished explaining the Levitation Charm exercise before the Slytherin first-years excitedly began waving their wands.
Crabbe’s feather was struck by his wand because of his overly forceful movement and burst into ash.
Goyle’s remained completely motionless on the desk.
Careful as always, Daphne tested the movement several times before successfully making her feather drift gently into the air.
Then Pansy mischievously tickled her, and the feather immediately dropped back onto the desk.
What delighted Professor Flitwick most was that all three young Slytherin ladies successfully managed to levitate their feathers.
“Excellent, very good!
Wonderful!”
“Three Slytherins have successfully cast the spell.
This is the best-performing class so far.”
“Each of you has earned fifteen points for your House.”
“Next lesson, I’ll tell you how the Gryffindor first-years performed!”
Professor Flitwick said excitedly as class ended.
Draca, Pansy, and Daphne exchanged glances and smiled proudly.
Compared with the strict teaching styles of Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, this was a method Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout particularly enjoyed— using the students’ desire to compete for the House Cup to motivate them into performing well in class.
It really helps the fic grow!