Some things were difficult to forget once you knew about them.
Over the days that followed, Draca felt as though, despite her privileged life, she’d never been this constantly on edge before.
On one hand, Daphne had begun following Hermione’s example and preparing for the exams, so Draca and Pansy had started reviewing as well.
At the same time, however, Draca continued secretly watching Quirrell’s every move.
She would frequently find excuses to visit the third-floor corridor, confirming that the three-headed dog, apparently named Fluffy, was still there and still roaring away.
As a result, she also found herself crossing paths with Harry’s trio far more often.
Their eyes always met.
Harry increasingly looked as though he wanted to say something to her.
For some reason, ever since Christmas night, Draca had vaguely felt that there was something different about the way he looked at her.
But she always responded with an irritated glare.
And every time, she would see the same confusion in Harry’s eyes, as though he couldn’t understand why she was angry.
What truly infuriated Draca was the latest piece of news that had begun occupying her thoughts.
Harry and the others were clearly helping the gamekeeper secretly hatch a wild dragon in blatant violation of the law.
That made Draca spend even more time in the library, quietly keeping track of the trio’s movements in case they did something else that spiraled out of control.
Her disappointment and impatience with Granger grew as well.
After the troll incident, Draca had thought there would at least be someone capable of keeping Harry Potter under control.
Instead, Granger had only joined in and added to the chaos.
As expected, children raised by Muggles simply weren’t as dependable as those from pure-blood wizarding families.
But Harry was still the one who annoyed her most.
Her first term at Hogwarts had already strayed completely from the perfect school life she’d imagined since childhood, all because of Harry Potter.
She hadn’t expected the Boy Who Lived to somehow find even more ways to cause trouble for her.
Naturally, her mood remained gloomy.
Daphne and Pansy had hinted more than once that Harry’s trio could go on all the ridiculous adventures they wanted without any of it having anything to do with Draca.
But whenever they saw her sulking expression, the two could only exchange helpless looks and leave the rest unsaid.
Several more weeks passed like this.
One morning at breakfast, shortly after the owls delivered the mail, Draca noticed Harry take a note from his snowy owl.
He immediately pulled Ron and Hermione to their feet and hurried out of the Great Hall.
Draca sighed deeply.
For no apparent reason, irritation rose inside her once again.
She stood and gave Pansy and Daphne a brief, “See you later,” before lightly following the three of them.
Only after confirming from a distance that they had entered the hut did she step onto the path.
Even before she got close, she could see that the white smoke pouring from the hut was far thicker than before.
Draca cautiously moved closer and heard Hagrid cheering so loudly that even the tightly shut doors and windows couldn’t contain his voice.
She bit her lip again, nervously tightened her grip on her folding fan, and crept toward the window.
Through a narrow gap in the curtains, she caught sight of the gamekeeper’s enormous body.
Only after Hagrid finally moved aside could she see the backs of Harry, Ron, and Hermione gathered around the fireplace.
Then she witnessed something that drained all the color from her face.
The fire in the hearth was burning fiercely.
The eggshell sitting among the flames had already cracked open, and a tiny, wrinkled creature with black skin poked its head out, opening its mouth and looking around curiously.
Then it stretched out its two little forelegs and pushed itself up from the shell as though stretching after a nap.
Only then did Draca see its angular wings, still tender and smooth like thin membranes.
The baby dragon seemed to yawn in satisfaction, sending two or three sparks sputtering from its mouth.
A tiny frightened sound escaped Draca before she could stop herself.
She hurriedly raised her folding fan to cover her lips.
But Hagrid had already noticed her.
Their eyes met for less than a second.
Draca immediately turned around in horror and hurried back toward the castle.
Her heart pounded with panic, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.
She never noticed Hagrid collapsing onto the floor in fright behind the window.
“This is completely insane!
It’s dangerous!”
“I think we should tell Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall…”
Several days later, Draca finally gave in and told Pansy and Daphne about the dragon.
Their shock was no less intense than the panic still fluttering inside her own chest.
“That would get them expelled.”
Draca forced herself to sound calm.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered Daphne’s suggestion.
She could simply imagine all too easily what the strict Professor McGonagall would do.
“But…
ah…
don’t tell me!”
At the mention of expulsion, a trace of sympathy flashed across Daphne’s face.
Halfway through speaking, she suddenly realized something and lightly slapped her thigh before exchanging a look with Pansy.
“What is it?
What did you two think of?”
Draca asked in confusion.
“Weasley was apparently sent to the hospital wing with a really serious injury.”
“Could it have been…
a dragon bite?”
Draca’s expression changed instantly.
She sprang to her feet.
“It’s not Potter or Granger, you know.
It’s Weasley.
Don’t tell me you’re actually going to visit him?”
Pansy asked in astonishment.
Draca abruptly turned around, her expression haughty.
“I’m going to warn him.
And I should probably warn Granger too.
They’d better stop dragging Potter into this kind of stupidity.”
The moment Draca reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey stopped her.
Draca patiently made up an excuse about wanting to borrow a textbook from Weasley before finally getting past the bothersome school matron.
When she saw Ron lying comfortably in bed, stuffing himself with food as though he didn’t have a care in the world, she felt an indescribable disgust toward him.
He’d caused this much trouble, yet he was still relaxing as though none of it concerned him?
“Eat while you still can, Weasley.
I don’t think you’ll be getting many snacks once this dragon business comes out and you’re sent back to your parents’ nest.”
She spoke disdainfully, satisfied to see him choke from shock and fear until he could barely get his words out.
“Mal—cough, cough…
you…
what are you doing—cough…”
“Shut up.
I didn’t give you permission to speak.”
Ron stupidly closed his mouth.
One word silently appeared in Draca’s mind.
Pathetic.
“I should have warned you long ago.
Potter being stupid and stubborn is his own problem, but if you weren’t constantly clinging to him, he wouldn’t have gone this far astray.
Stay away from Potter.”
Her voice was icy.
As soon as she finished, she caught sight of Madam Pomfrey approaching.
Ron’s face had turned bright red.
Draca couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or whether he’d simply choked on his food again.
Unwilling to waste any more words on him, she glanced toward the books beside Ron’s bed.
Among them was a library book about alchemy.
Draca grabbed it and turned to leave.
She had already made her way down the stairs and was approaching the Slytherin common room in the dungeons when she noticed a sheet of parchment tucked inside the book.
Dear Ron,
How have you been?
Thanks for writing.
I’d be happy to take in the Norwegian Ridgeback, but getting it here won’t be easy.
I think it would be best to ask some friends of mine to help.
The important thing now is that neither you nor they can be caught illegally keeping a dragon.
Could you bring the Norwegian Ridgeback to the highest tower at school at midnight on Saturday?
You can meet them there, and they’ll take the dragon away under cover of darkness.
Please write back as soon as possible.
Yours,
Charlie
Draca stared at the letter in disbelief.
Then she stamped her foot furiously.
The dungeon corridor was silent, yet she could practically hear the curse repeating itself over and over inside her head.
Those damned Weasleys.
On Saturday night, Draca remained restless until late into the evening.
Eventually, she accepted Daphne’s suggestion and went to relax in the bath.
The unfamiliar sense of relaxation made her completely lose track of time.
Only when midnight was approaching did she hurriedly dry her long hair.
She changed into her robes and didn’t even have time to put on her usual headband.
Instead, she grabbed a few hairpins at random, secured them at the sides of her head, and quickly swept her hair neatly back.
Then she rushed out of the common room and made her way toward the Astronomy Tower.
Her nervousness grew with every step.
Over and over, she rehearsed in her head exactly what she intended to say when she saw Harry and Hermione.
As midnight drew closer, she finally heard soft footsteps approaching.
When the footsteps neared the entrance to the spiral staircase, Draca took a deep breath.
Carrying all the dignity of the Malfoy name, she began haughtily.
“Potter, I—”
The words had barely left her mouth when she caught sight of a tall figure in emerald-green robes from the corner of her eye.
Draca sucked in a sharp breath.
“Miss Malfoy?”
“Pro-Professor McGonagall…?”
Their eyes met.
Professor McGonagall was clearly just as surprised.
Then an earth-shaking roar of fury echoed through the stairwell.
“Detention!
And twenty points from Slytherin!
Wandering around the castle in the middle of the night—you’ve got some nerve—”
For the first time in her life, Draca was being scolded this harshly.
The echoes only made it worse, as though her humiliating predicament were being announced to the entire school.
She was being reprimanded for no reason, yet she had no way to explain herself.
Draca could only tremble slightly as tears of grievance gathered at the corners of her eyes.
“But…
but it was Potter.
If he hadn’t brought some dragon—”
She choked out the words quietly, never expecting Professor McGonagall to hear every one of them.
“Still making things up?
You would actually invent a lie like that?”
The merciless criticism, and the accusation that the daughter of a great family was lying, left Draca with no choice but to lower her head.
She bit her lip and said nothing.
Her fingers tightened around her folding fan until her knuckles turned white.
“Come with me.
I’ll have Professor Snape deal with this, Miss Malfoy!”
Draca followed close behind the furious Professor McGonagall, holding back her tears and refusing to show weakness.
As they passed a corner, she vaguely sensed some indistinct presence slowly drawing closer to her.
She paid it no attention and continued following Professor McGonagall until they entered the dungeons.
After McGonagall’s rapid knock, the dungeon door opened almost immediately.
“Severus!”
Before Severus could even greet her, Professor McGonagall angrily recounted everything Draca had supposedly done.
Snape listened quietly, then spoke lazily.
“Is that so?
Draca accused Potter?
Rest assured, I’ll deal with it.
Though if I were you, Minerva, I’d stay in my office.
Perhaps Potter was the one who set Draca up.
In any case, good night, Minerva.”
As he spoke, he glanced toward Draca.
Ignoring Professor McGonagall’s displeased expression, he pulled Draca inside the dungeon.
“Good.
Night.”
After McGonagall’s furious farewell, Snape shut the door.
Silence followed.
Draca had no idea how long it lasted before Severus finally spoke with his back turned to her.
“I told you not to concern yourself too much with Potter, Draca.”
His voice was gentle, yet there was something unusual beneath it.
When he turned around, Draca could almost feel the anger radiating from him.
But it wasn’t directed at her.
“They actually accused you of lying?
Rest here for a while, then go back to your dormitory and get some sleep.”
He paused and narrowed his black eyes as he looked at her.
Once again, several memories involuntarily flashed through Draca’s mind.
Then Severus spoke at an unhurried pace.
“Draca Malfoy, you put yourself in danger trying to stop Potter from doing something stupid.
Twenty points to Slytherin.”
When he mentioned Potter, a resentment Draca had never seen before flashed in his black eyes.
It sent a flicker of fear through her, but it also stirred her curiosity.
Before she could ask anything, Severus reminded her again.
“Next time you decide to move around at night, be more careful.”
Then he opened the dungeon door, checked that Professor McGonagall was gone, and hurried out, leaving Draca with one final remark.
“I’m going to find Filch and Dumbledore.
I think Potter really has gotten himself into serious trouble.”