After Draco and the Slytherin students left the Great Hall with cold smirks, the young wizards, having nowhere to vent their frustration, could only return to their seats in sullen silence.
Cedric, still the center of attention, couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination, but the glances directed his way seed to carry faint mockery. His face turned grim as he rose and left as well...
anwhile, Hermione, pressing her temples, had witnessed the entire scene.
Unlike the others, whose faces showed confusion or anger, hers carried a trace of weary resignation—and a helpless understanding toward Draco’s rciless behavior.
Though what he said was true, Draco’s single remark had effectively reignited the rivalry among the three Houses.
Particularly Cedric Diggory—afterward, soone spotted him flying alone over the Quidditch Pitch for hours, his wild state worrying many that he might have been pushed too far.
It was worth noting that in the following Potions class, Snape awarded Draco quite a few extra points. Whether it was related to this incident was anyone’s guess...
...
The Room of Requirent.
Because he needed a place to train freely, Draco often appeared there.
But strangely, just as he was about to start his training, Astoria pushed the door open and entered as well.
Judging by Draco’s calm expression, this clearly wasn’t the first ti. How Astoria managed to find her way in remained a mystery...
“Just as I thought, you’re here.”
The mont she stepped inside, Astoria flopped onto the room’s only sofa as if she were coming ho.
In that lazy posture, it was hard to associate her with the always-elegant second daughter of the Greengrass family.
Draco’s gaze drifted from her slightly rumpled robes to the bottle of purple potion she had brought with her.
From its color alone, he couldn’t tell what kind of potion it was.
“Curious?”
Sprawled across the sofa, Astoria tilted her head slightly. Her half-leaning position made her lips pout just a little, and her lazy manner made Draco’s eyelids twitch.
He couldn’t understand why she only ever acted this way in front of him.
Unaware of his thoughts, Astoria sat up, lifted the potion bottle with both hands, and gave him a playful wink.
“Want so? It tastes a lot like Gurdyroot Infusion. I think you’d like it.”
“......”
Ignoring Astoria’s pitiful expression, Draco silently declined and turned his gaze away.
He didn’t know what kind of potion it was, but it was obviously sothing Snape had specially prepared for her—likely sothing important.
As for its effect, Draco wasn’t sure.
The mont he looked away, Astoria’s face, which had just been scrunched up over the taste, fell with faint disappointnt.
Had Draco kept his eyes on her, he would have noticed her staring blankly at the potion in her hands, her earlier playful air quietly fading away...
...
After gulping down the potion and imdiately stuffing several handfuls of sweets into her mouth, Astoria’s puffed-up cheeks, round like a hamster’s, turned toward Draco.
Yet, despite the overwhelming magic surging around her, she couldn’t cast a single spell. The strange sight quickly bored her.
Restless, she suddenly rembered sothing.
“You know what I found in Snape’s workshop?”
“Workshop…”
Draco’s hand, mid-wave with his wand, paused as he realized what she ant—the private room Snape usually occupied.
Indeed, rather than a space for preparing Potions lesson plans or fulfilling his duties as Head of Slytherin, that room was clearly a dedicated brewing workshop.
Compared to Astoria, who sotis used it to obtain potion ingredients, Draco was far more familiar with the place. So even with her deliberately tempting tone, he wasn’t the least bit curious.
Until—
“I bet you didn’t know Snape’s been brewing a cauldron of Wolfsbane Potion.”
“You said… Wolfsbane Potion?”
Seeing him freeze, Astoria smugly bit into her Chocolate Frog.
“That’s right. The potion that keeps werewolves from going mad during their transformations.”
“I know.”
“Then here’s the question—this potion doesn’t last long and isn’t exactly practical. So who do you think it’s for?”
Astoria’s eyes glead with cleverness, her confident and mysterious air making her impossible to ignore.
But Draco didn’t seem interested in solving her riddle. Instead, he gave the answer outright.
“You’re talking about Professor Lupin.”
“Eh?!”
For the Malfoy family, discovering sothing like that wasn’t difficult.
And given the recent lessons about werewolves—and Lupin’s regular absences every month—it was nearly impossible not to be suspicious.
Draco glanced at Astoria, lounging on the sofa.
“Unfortunately, the existence of the Wolfsbane Potion only confirms my theory. In fact, I think Snape wanted you to find out.”
“You an… Snape knew I’d tell you, so he did it on purpose? But how could he be sure I would?”
“He didn’t need to.”
Astoria tilted her head in confusion, her expression puzzled by his blunt response.
Draco didn’t explain how peculiar Snape could be. To him, it was simply the result of reason and emotion clashing within the man.
He wanted to expose Lupin’s identity as a werewolf, yet sothing—or soone—had stopped him, making his behavior impossible to read.
Thinking this, Draco steadied his restless magic and frowned.
“I suppose there’s a reason Snape can’t speak openly, even though he despises that man.”
For example—
Dumbledore’s decision...
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