As Hermione listened to the unfavorable comnts about Draco, a trace of worry appeared in her eyes. At the sa ti, she felt annoyed that Draco wasn’t defending himself.
Didn’t any of his friends think to speak up for him?
“Hmph… I’m not worried about that guy.”
That’s what she told herself, but the crè brûlée she had unconsciously poked to pieces on her plate betrayed just how much this tsundere's thoughts didn’t match her words.
Still, in the face of such overwhelming sentint, even if Hermione wanted to defend Draco, there was nothing she could do. Besides, Draco didn’t seem to care at all.
His carefree attitude only made the little witch secretly even more frustrated...
...
After breakfast, the first class of the afternoon was the notoriously dull History of Magic.
It was by far the most boring subject on their titable. Among all the professors, only Professor Binns was a ghost—which might explain why his classes always felt so lifeless.
The only remotely interesting part was when he floated through the blackboard into the classroom, but that novelty had long worn off.
Today’s class was as dreary as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began reading in a dry, low, monotonous voice. His tone was like a sputtering engine on the verge of breaking down. One by one, the students slipped into a daze, occasionally snapping to attention just long enough to jot down a na or date, before dozing off again.
Half an hour had passed before anything out of the ordinary happened in that lifeless classroom...
...
Although the young wizards often speculated about who had opened the Chamber of Secrets, most of them barely understood what it really was. Even Hermione, known as a walking encyclopedia, didn’t know much.
The books only ntioned it in passing, suggesting a connection to Salazar Slytherin, the founder of Slytherin House.
So when soone brought up the topic in class, the previously groggy students suddenly perked up and turned their eyes to Professor Binns at the front of the room...
“I’m Granger, Professor. Could you tell us what the Chamber of Secrets is?”
It was the first ti Hermione had ever interrupted a professor in class—definitely not sothing the rule-abiding Hermione Granger would normally do.
At that mont, Professor Binns had been lecturing about the International Warlocks’ Convention of 1289. Even he seed taken aback by the question, a flicker of surprise breaking through his usually expressionless face.
In fact, it wasn’t just Professor Binns. Even Draco, who had been flipping through “1000 Ways to Petrify,” looked up.
“This is a History of Magic class. I deal in facts, not myths and legends, Miss Granger.”
Professor Binns' dry rejection didn’t discourage Hermione. Instead, she raised her hand even higher, as if afraid he hadn’t seen her.
Moved by her bright eyes and unwavering determination, Draco, who had only glanced up initially, now set aside his book and turned to fully look at Hermione Granger, the girl now holding the attention of the entire classroom.
That brave, petite figure made Pansy, standing nearby, pout and let out a small huff...
“Miss Granger?”
“I’d like to ask, sir—aren’t most legends based on so truth?”
On stage, Professor Binns looked slightly surprised. Draco’s lips curved into a faint smirk; he was certain this was the first ti the professor had encountered such a sharp student.
After a brief pause...
“Well, yes, I suppose you could say that. But the legend you’re referring to is an extrely sensational, even downright absurd tale.”
Professor Binns fixed his eyes on Hermione, as if trying to get a better look at the student before him. His words had the entire class hanging on every sentence.
For a mont—even as a ghost—he could feel the invisible weight of pressure in the air.
It was obvious that the students’ unusually intense interest had left Professor Binns at a rare loss...
“Oh, alright then. Let think... the Chamber of Secrets...”
Seeing that Hermione had successfully persuaded him, Draco grew curious about what Binns might say. Even Pansy, who had been fixated on Hermione, turned her attention to the professor on stage.
But no one noticed that Ron Weasley, sitting next to Harry Potter, showed zero interest in the discussion. Instead, he sat dazed in his seat, his eyes shifting vaguely as if lost in thought...
...
After History of Magic, the young wizards pushed their way through the crowded corridor toward the dining hall.
At that mont, Hermione and the others caught sight of the Slytherin students quietly following behind Draco...
“I think that Death Eater is the Heir of Slytherin.”
Harry Potter’s expression looked a bit off as he spoke. His gaze wasn’t fixed on Draco, but rather on the aloof girl standing closely beside him.
Ron, who was already not on great terms with Draco, seed to snap out of his daze the mont he heard Harry’s comnt. His eyes lit up.
“What do you think, Harry? Isn’t it ti we started investigating?”
“Investigate… Ron, do you have a plan?”
Harry, rembering last year’s adventure, clenched his fists in excitent. Ron’s suggestion seed to ignite his eagerness all over again.
“I think we can get close to that damn Death Eater and find out sothing from him.”
“How? There’s no way he’d talk to us, and we can’t even get near him.”
“No, we can. All we need is a little Polyjuice Potion.”
“What’s that?”
Harry had no clue what Ron was talking about, but Hermione, who had remained quiet until now, raised an eyebrow and looked at the unusually calm Ron Weasley.
She wasn’t surprised by Ron’s hostility toward Draco—what caught her off guard was that he actually knew what Polyjuice Potion could do.
Was this really the sa foolish Weasley Draco and the others kept mocking?
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