Christmas break ended, and the new term began in the dreary depths of winter.
Compared to the excitement that had surrounded their first weeks at Hogwarts, the first-years were slowly beginning to face the realities of attending a school of magic.
The steadily increasing workload seemed determined to remind them that once the second term ended and Easter break was over, exams would be right around the corner.
As the term went on, the footsteps of students throughout Hogwarts Castle only seemed to grow heavier.
Fortunately, the professors appeared to notice the drop in morale.
Before long, they announced something that immediately breathed life back into the school.
The third Quidditch match would be Gryffindor against Hufflepuff.
With something worth looking forward to, the first-years quickly recovered their enthusiasm.
The Gryffindor common room and the castle corridors were once again filled with banners and scarves in scarlet and gold.
Compared to the Lions’ flamboyant display, Hufflepuff’s yellow and black appeared much more subdued.
It was almost as though they’d already decided they had no intention of competing with Gryffindor at all.
Naturally, this drew the curiosity of several sharp-minded students, Draca among them.
After dinner one evening, she and Pansy followed Daphne over to Hannah and quietly stopped her to ask.
“It’s because Cedric isn’t playing.”
Hannah spoke mysteriously.
“Cedric?”
“Cedric Diggory.
Our ace.”
Faced with the confusion of the three Slytherin girls, Hannah gave them a bright, sunny smile.
“He said the first match didn’t show Harry Potter’s real ability at all.
Sacrificing one match so he can sit in the stands and properly observe him isn’t a big deal.”
Seeing Pansy’s incredulous expression, Hannah lowered her voice again as though sharing a secret.
“He said Gryffindor only beat Slytherin by 110 points in their first match, but Hufflepuff beat Ravenclaw by 180.
As long as Hufflepuff makes sure we don’t lose by more than 100 points, the gap between the two teams can grow to no more than 130.
After that, all he has to do is beat Slytherin by more than 130 points and make sure Gryffindor loses to Ravenclaw.”
Hannah paused and narrowed her eyes.
Then she lowered her voice, imitating a boy’s deep, gentle tone.
“Even without me playing, there’s no possible way we’ll lose by more than 100 points.
Potter looks like he’ll be one of Gryffindor’s main players for the next several years.
Sacrificing one match to learn exactly what he’s capable of still leaves us in a position to secure the championship.
It’s a trade where we lose nothing.
Why wouldn’t I make it?”
The left corner of Hannah’s mouth slowly rose.
She lightly clenched one hand into a fist and pretended to kiss a nonexistent ring on the index finger of her right hand.
Her movements were dignified, yet somehow carried a calculating, almost sinister air.
Even her normally clear eyes flashed with cold satisfaction.
“H-Hannah…?”
Daphne spoke nervously at the sight of Hannah suddenly seeming like a completely different person.
Pansy also took a few wary steps backward.
“Hehe, pretty convincing, wasn’t it?
That’s exactly how Cedric said it to us.”
Hannah smiled sweetly, instantly returning to her usual lively self.
She gently took Daphne’s hand and stuck out her tongue.
“But how can he be sure Ravenclaw can beat Gryffindor?
And how can he be so certain Hufflepuff won’t lose by more than a hundred points…?”
Draca calmly bit her lower lip and pressed for an answer.
“That’s a secret.
But Cedric did give us a hint about Ravenclaw.”
Hannah winked proudly.
Then she once again imitated the boy named Diggory.
“Ravenclaw needs a new Seeker.
I’ll give them a candidate they won’t be able to refuse.”
The absolute confidence in her voice sent a faint chill through Draca.
She exchanged a look with Pansy and Daphne and tightened her grip on her folding fan.
Apparently, Harry Potter wasn’t the only person they needed to keep an eye on.
On the day of the match, the Gryffindor students were beside themselves with excitement.
Draca’s mood, however, only worsened amid all the noise.
Her investigation into Nicolas Flamel had reached a dead end.
Although she had learned about Flamel and had even guessed what secret lay beneath the third-floor corridor, she still couldn’t understand Quirrell’s motive for stealing the Philosopher’s Stone.
Nor did she understand why Quirrell would take the risk of openly chanting a curse in front of a crowd in an attempt to kill Harry.
“Maybe the Philosopher’s Stone can do more than grant immortality or create gold?”
“Could it…
increase the power of Dark Magic?”
“Maybe Quirrell already wanted Potter dead, and that’s why he’s after the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“But why would he want Potter dead in the first place?”
Every discussion with Daphne and Pansy inevitably ended with them circling back to the same questions.
What made Draca even more unhappy was that while searching the library for some connection between the Philosopher’s Stone and Dark Magic, she accidentally discovered that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been spending plenty of time there too.
Worse, they had also discovered Flamel’s secret.
…
“See?
That dog must be guarding Flamel’s Philosopher’s Stone!
I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him because they’re friends—”
Hermione’s excited whisper echoed between the deserted bookshelves on a winter evening not long after the term began.
“A stone that can turn metal into gold and make you live forever!
No wonder Snape wants it.
Anyone would want something like that!”
Harry’s triumphant conclusion, along with yet another accusation against Severus, made Draca raise an irritated eyebrow.
What a stupid conclusion.
They completely ignored my warning!
But what truly infuriated her was what Harry said next, followed by Ron’s agreement.
“I told you we’d find it ourselves.
We don’t need Malfoy’s help.”
“She probably only came because Snape told her to throw us off the tra—”
Draca couldn’t listen to another word.
She deliberately strolled past the shelves where the three were hiding, slowly raising her folding fan to cover lips that had gone pale with anger.
“There’s no need to discuss me behind my back, you ill-mannered fools.”
Ron sucked in a breath, while Harry’s eyes widened.
“I’ll uncover the truth behind the Philosopher’s Stone crisis before any of you do.
I’ll prove just how completely wrong you are.
And then you people who slandered me can stand in front of me and bow your heads in apology!”
With that, she whipped around and walked coldly out of the library, the ends of her hair fluttering behind her.
…
Amid the noise surrounding the Quidditch pitch, Draca was surprised to discover that Severus had volunteered to referee the match.
She quickly understood why Cedric Diggory had been so confident that even if he sacrificed this match, Gryffindor’s winning margin would remain limited.
Severus would undoubtedly award Hufflepuff plenty of penalty shots.
She also understood that he’d chosen to referee because he wanted to stop Quirrell from interfering again.
But that only made her mood worse when she heard Ron loudly complaining about Severus.
“I don’t want to watch anymore.”
After quietly saying a few words to Pansy and Daphne, Draca abruptly stood and left the pitch.
“Hey!”
“Oh, sorry.
Didn’t notice you there, Weasley.”
Ignoring the conflict that broke out behind her between Crabbe and Goyle and Ron and Neville, Draca continued straight toward the castle entrance.
Her thoughts remained tangled the entire way.
Only after reaching the castle did she realize Pansy had disappeared and that Daphne alone had hurried after her, slightly out of breath.
“Pansy…
Pansy said she had to tell Goyle not to fight.”
Even while panting, Daphne struggled to maintain her composure, refusing to bend over or brace her hands against her knees.
She merely bit her lip and deliberately slowed her breathing until she recovered.
Draca took Daphne’s hand and led her back toward the common room at an easy pace.
“Don’t run like that.
I only thought it was too noisy and wanted to leave the pitch.
It wasn’t anything important.”
As they walked, Draca gently patted Daphne’s back with concern.
Only a few minutes of running had already left her face slightly pale.
Daphne merely smiled softly.
“Don’t start thinking I’m fragile just because of my family’s curse.”
Her protest was gentle.
Seeing Daphne like this, Draca’s thoughts immediately left the Philosopher’s Stone behind.
Instead, they turned toward the mysterious Greengrass family curse that only afflicted their daughters.
It wasn’t until that evening that she indirectly learned the result of the match from other Slytherin students.
Harry had seized the Golden Snitch shortly after the match began with an impressive diving maneuver, finally showing the entire school what the youngest Seeker in history was capable of.
But because Severus had awarded Hufflepuff seven penalty shots, Gryffindor only won by eighty points.
What confused everyone was that the Hufflepuff players showed no trace of disappointment as they left the pitch.
Instead, they were in high spirits, almost as though they already considered that year’s Quidditch Cup theirs.
Several more weeks passed, and the school returned to peace without any further incidents.
After challenging Harry, Draca became even more determined to uncover the truth behind the Philosopher’s Stone.
As a result, the complete lack of progress frustrated her even more.
“I heard Granger has already started preparing for the exams.”
“Isn’t that way too early?
There are still ten weeks…”
Daphne nervously shared the latest library gossip, earning an astonished response from Pansy.
Draca merely turned another page in boredom.
“Only Muggles would get that nervous.”
Despite saying that, she was somewhat annoyed to find herself feeling restless for reasons she couldn’t explain.
“Still nothing…
Could we be looking in completely the wrong direction…?”
She gloomily closed the book and rubbed between her brows in frustration.
The title on its first page read Alchemy in Magical History.
“Should we…
try waiting around near the gamekeeper’s hut again?”
Daphne’s gentle suggestion made both Pansy and Draca widen their eyes.
“After Miss Malfoy, even Miss Greengrass is learning bad habits.”
Pansy smiled mischievously.
Daphne immediately flushed and pouted.
“I-I only…
I just don’t want to see Draca worrying this much.
Besides…
we got very useful information there last time, didn’t we?”
She hurriedly defended herself, her small dimples deepening.
Draca shot Pansy a cold glare before turning back toward Daphne, a light appearing in her eyes.
“Maybe it really is worth trying.
Besides, gathering intelligence on the enemy is an important tactic.”
She murmured to herself, convincing herself that doing so absolutely did not mean admitting defeat, then stood properly.
“Miss Malfoy, are you planning to eavesdrop again?”
Pansy raised her voice and imitated Professor McGonagall’s tone, putting on an expression of exaggerated disapproval.
“How could I possibly do something so vulgar?
The weather is simply lovely, and I feel like going for a walk.”
Draca looked at Daphne and Pansy.
All three wore equally sly smiles.
“Do you want us to come with you?”
“It’s fine.
I can manage by myself.
Thank you, Daphne.”
“After all, three people accidentally passing by the same hut and then accidentally overhearing something would look a little suspicious, wouldn’t it?”
“……”
“Shut up, Parkinson.”
Draca left the common room.
She had only just climbed the stone steps and returned to the castle’s entrance hall when she unexpectedly spotted Hagrid’s suspicious-looking back coming from the direction of the library.
He appeared to be hiding several books behind him.
What’s the gamekeeper doing in the library?
Draca narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Her gaze landed on the title of the book at the top of Hagrid’s stack.
From Hatching to Fire-Breathing: A Dragon-Raising Manual.
Her curiosity immediately intensified.
After hesitating in place for a moment, she decided to head toward the library. New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
She had barely stepped into the corridor when she heard approaching footsteps and Harry’s voice.
“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon.
He told me himself.”
Draca suddenly tensed, unsure whether she’d heard correctly.
That reckless, careless gamekeeper wanted to raise a dragon at school?
But that’s illegal…
The thought had barely crossed her mind when Ron’s astonished voice reached her.
“But our laws forbid keeping dragons.
The ban on dragon keeping was formally passed at the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709.”
Hearing Weasley say exactly what she’d been thinking convinced Draca that today was definitely not a good day.
She had actually sunk so low as to share an opinion with Weasley.
Hermione seemed to ask something, and Ron hurried to answer.
Their footsteps were drawing closer.
Only then did Draca suddenly realize that if things continued like this, she would walk straight into the two rivals who believed they were discussing a secret.
After a moment’s thought, she decided to strike first.
She lifted her chin, adopted her usual cold and haughty bearing, and walked lightly up the corridor as she spoke.
“Potter.”
To her satisfaction, all three sets of footsteps and voices immediately stopped.
Clearly, she’d startled them.
“Hogwarts isn’t so boring that I need to know what the gamekeeper wishes for.”
As she passed them, she caught sight of Harry’s irritated, stunned expression and couldn’t resist slowly opening her folding fan to hide the upward curve of her lips.
Once inside the library, she deliberately chose a seat beside a window overlooking the Forbidden Forest.
After confirming that the three figures were heading toward the hut, she quickly stood and followed.
When she reached Hagrid’s hut, she was once again taken aback.
The heavy curtains had all been drawn tightly shut, while thick clouds of white smoke poured continuously from the chimney.
There was still some lingering spring chill in the air, but this was absurdly excessive.
Draca lifted her head and looked at the white smoke, imagining just how unbearably warm it must be inside.
Perhaps because every door and window had been shut and the curtains drawn, this time she could only hear faint, indistinct whispers.
She checked that no one was nearby, bit her lip, and moved closer to the window.
Only then could she make out the conversation.
“…Besides the three-headed dog, are there any other protections guarding the Philosopher’s Stone?”
The moment Draca heard Harry’s question, she couldn’t suppress her smile.
She silently thanked Daphne.
She really hadn’t come here for nothing.
“Of course I can’t tell you.
First, I don’t know.
Second, you already know far too much.
So even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Hagrid’s answer made Draca roll her eyes.
That was obviously the attitude of someone desperate to share a secret while pretending he had no intention of doing so.
“Oh, come on, Hagrid.
Maybe you really don’t want to tell us, but you definitely know, don’t you?
Nothing that happens at Hogwarts gets past you.
And besides, Dumbledore trusts you so much.
We can’t think of anyone else he’d trust enough to involve in something this important…”
Sure enough, Hermione’s sweet, flattering voice immediately came from inside the hut.
The mixture of soft pleading and innocent admiration was perfectly measured, almost exactly like the way Draca acted spoiled around her father and Severus.
Even Draca couldn’t help being impressed.
Inside the hut came the sound of a cup striking the wooden table, followed by Hagrid’s foolish chuckle.
“All right, I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you three.
Here’s how it is.
He borrowed Fluffy from me, and then he asked several professors to put protections around the Stone.
Let’s see…
Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell.
Dumbledore himself did a bit of magic too.
Oh, right!
One more person—Professor Snape—”
“Snape!?”
All three voices cried out at once.
Outside the hut, Draca frowned unhappily.
“Yeah.
You’re not still suspecting him, are you?
Listen, Snape helped protect the Stone.
He wouldn’t be trying to steal it.”
Hagrid spoke as though it were obvious.
Draca, however, strongly disagreed with his reasoning.
Unlike Hagrid’s blind faith, Harry’s reasoning wasn’t entirely wrong.
He’d merely chosen the wrong person.
Quirrell was also one of the people protecting the Stone, yet he was after both the Stone and Harry at the same time.
Her thoughts once again returned to the connection between the Philosopher’s Stone and Harry.
She only caught fragments of the remaining conversation inside the hut, mostly between Ron and Hagrid.
“But what are you going to do after it hatches?”
“Well…
I’ve been reading up on it.
Borrowed some books from the library.
For example, you have to keep the egg in the fire, because the mother always breathes fire over her eggs.
Then after it hatches, every half hour you feed it brandy mixed with chicken blood.
And this one teaches you how to identify the breed.
Mine’s a Norwegian Ridgeback.
They’re very rare.”
Draca blinked and finally came back to herself.
She looked around.
Apparently, there was nothing else worth hearing.
Shaking her head, she slowly made her way back toward the castle.
Her mind remained occupied by the question of what connection could possibly exist between the Philosopher’s Stone and Harry.
It wasn’t until she was washing up that night that Ron and Hagrid’s conversation suddenly resurfaced in her mind.
What had they said was going to hatch?
And what exactly was a Norwegian Ridgeback?
It really helps the fic grow!