Just as Draco had predicted, Hermione hesitated for a long ti without answering his question.
Naturally, the question exchange ga ended without a conclusion.
But Draco didn’t really mind not getting an answer. From Hermione’s conflicted expression—and the bits of conversation he’d overheard—he could already piece together so clues...
“Is it about the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“Are there other traps besides Fluffy?”
“Do they suspect my godfather is planning to steal the Philosopher’s Stone?”
From what he had heard back then, it was clear Harry Potter and the others were wary of and suspicious toward Snape.
Right or wrong aside, Draco had felt irritated hearing soone talk behind his godfather’s back.
That irritation was exactly why he’d deliberately broken his Disillusionnt Charm in front of them—to scare them.
Taking Hermione hostage, knocking the wand from Ron’s hand—those were just acts of revenge.
With that in mind, it was no surprise Goyle and the others said Draco was fiercely protective of his own...
...
As Draco was lost in thought, a faint sound reached his ears, snapping him back to the present. He turned his head toward it.
“She’s here?”
Under the moonlight streaming through the window, a petite figure slowly ca into view.
Looking closer, Draco saw it was a witch in a thin nightgown—Hermione Granger from Gryffindor—and they were currently on the eighth floor of Gryffindor Tower.
To Draco’s amused eyes, Hermione looked just like a little cat sneaking off after stealing fish. She quietly slipped out from behind the portrait hole, the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.
The Fat Lady in the portrait seed completely unfazed, casting Hermione a knowing glance before silently looking away.
Typical Gryffindor—always sneaking off on adventures...
“Malfoy? Draco? Arrogant jerk?”
“...”
“It’s this late already—where is he? Don’t tell he ditched !”
Thanks to the Disillusionnt Charm, Hermione had no idea Draco was right nearby. When no one responded right away, she genuinely thought he’d bailed on her.
What she didn’t know was that Draco, hiding in the shadows, was silently watching her with a deadpan expression as she crouched, trying not to be seen—still muttering complaints about him...
He silently moved closer.
“I really didn’t know that’s how you see .”
“Ah! Waaaah!”
“It’s , stop screaming!”
Draco’s sudden voice startled Hermione, who was already on edge, into a scream. Fortunately, he was quick—he imdiately covered her mouth with his hand, cutting off the sound before it could escape.
If they made a scene and alerted a professor, sneaking around the castle at midnight without being in their dorms would definitely earn them serious punishnt—and possibly expose the dragon’s existence.
“Let go of !”
Hermione stomped hard on Draco’s foot, finally managing to pull away. In the moonlight, the shimr at the corner of her eyes and the furious look on her face made it clear—Draco had scared her badly, and she was far from happy about it.
She drew a deep breath, ready to speak—but Draco cut her off.
“You’re late.”
“…”
Before she could even question what he’d just done, Draco was already accusing her instead. Hermione’s face flushed red. If it weren’t for the ti and place, she might have lunged at him right then and there.
But he wasn’t wrong—she really hadn’t arrived at the agreed ti.
“And... what are you wearing?”
“I…”
Draco’s gaze felt almost physical, making Hermione instinctively cross her arms over her chest, which had noticeably started to rise and fall.
She was still in her sleepwear—a soft pink nightgown chosen with no small amount of girlish fondness.
“None of your business!”
Truthfully, if Draco hadn’t pointed it out, she wouldn’t have even realized she was still in her pajamas. But she’d never admit to such an oversight.
Sure, it was comfortable, and yes, she did look a little cuter than usual in it. But this was absolutely not the right outfit for tonight’s mission.
Draco hadn’t expected that Hermione could get so flustered when she was nervous...
Still, ti was short, so he shelved the teasing and pulled out his wand.
“Co closer. We’re out of ti.”
Still feeling a bit awkward over her mistake, Hermione quickly set aside her embarrassnt and stepped forward.
The mont she did, Draco draped his cloak over her. The gesture caught Hermione so off guard that she froze, forgetting to even protest.
Not that Draco gave her the chance.
“Disillusio.”
Draco waved his wand through the air a few tis, then lightly tapped the top of Hermione’s head.
Instantly, she felt a strange, cold sensation trickle down from her scalp, and right before her eyes, her hands and feet vanished.
Not gone—just hidden.
“This is the Disillusionnt Charm? I really can’t see myself!”
Amazed by the effect, Hermione started patting her arms and legs in wonder. If Draco hadn’t still been nearby, she might have started stripping just to test how thorough the charm was.
“It’s not truly invisible—just very hard to see.”
Sensing her gaze, Draco cast the Disillusionnt Charm on himself as well.
The sight was dazzling. Hermione’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, clearly eager to learn how to master the spell herself.
“We should get going. I’m a little worried about Hagrid.”
“Ah... right…”
As Hermione nodded, trying to figure out which direction to go—and where exactly Draco was—she suddenly felt a hand take hers. It was just large enough to wrap around her smaller one.
He didn’t give her a chance to react. Draco simply took her hand and started walking, pulling her along with him.
It was his way of keeping track of her position and making sure they stayed together, without risking visibility.
Hermione didn’t need an explanation. She just quietly tightened Draco’s cloak around her with her free hand, then looked ahead—at the faint ripples in the air that marked where he was.
And in that mont, she realized sothing surprising: midnight at Hogwarts wasn’t nearly as cold as she thought it would be...
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