After closing the door and shutting out that slightly unhinged laughter, Hermione noticed that Draco's expression was far more serious than usual.
That habitual air of detached indifference now carried a trace of gravity.
Walking beside him, Hermione found herself sobering as well. She had no choice. Anyone who had heard those words would struggle to stay relaxed—unless they were truly heartless.
It wasn't long before her curiosity won out.
"What Lockhart said… could it really be true?"
"He had no reason to lie. And the wizards he mentioned were indeed the ones imprisoned in Azkaban back then. Some of them I'd never even heard of."
"So those wizards were all Death Eaters too."
"Exactly. And not just any of them—the most special batch."
Unlike the Death Eaters who had managed to avoid being sent to Azkaban, these were powerful and heinous criminals—the most loyal followers of the Dark Lord.
In other words, compared to those who discarded their Death Eater identity the moment the Dark Lord lost power, or those now following Lucius who had not responded to the Dark Lord's return…
The Death Eaters who had refused to believe Voldemort was defeated and were imprisoned in Azkaban were precisely the subordinates he would most want to reclaim.
As for the information Lockhart hadn't said outright—yet had revealed through his laughter and expression…
"The Dementors may have run into trouble. That wouldn't be unusual… It might even have been the Dark Lord himself who made a move."
"..."
The bold speculation left Hermione blinking in stunned silence.
It was hard to tell whether she couldn't quite process what Draco had just said, or whether she simply hadn't heard him clearly.
In truth, her reaction was perfectly normal. Anyone else might have cried out on the spot.
It was simply too unbelievable.
As shocking as the idea was, judging from Lockhart's reaction and the Ministry's series of strange actions, it wasn't impossible.
In fact, it might well have been both at once—
The Dementors' submission.
Voldemort's personal intervention.
At the thought, Draco's expression refused to ease.
It wasn't only that the Dark Lord's influence was expanding. It also implied that Voldemort's strength was recovering.
'If it's an alliance, Father and the others should already know. I just don't know what measures they're taking.'
Compared to whatever trouble his father might be facing, Draco now felt an even sharper pressure—the pressure of time.
"They've given us far too little time to grow… Tch."
If his ability to communicate with dragons had truly been exposed, then peaceful coexistence with Voldemort was out of the question. A power like that was something an ambitious man would never tolerate.
One day, they would inevitably stand on opposite sides.
And not merely against a Horcrux that wasn't even at its peak…
That was precisely why Lucius Malfoy had chosen to oppose Voldemort without hesitation.
Hermione and the others were well aware of this and had long since prepared themselves.
"If that's really the case, what can we do?"
"First, let's gather everyone. I have a few things to say."
When Draco and the others stepped out of the Hog's Head, they immediately spotted Pansy and Astoria waving at them from a distance.
Compared to the atmosphere inside the pub, it felt like an entirely different world outside.
"Draco, over here!"
"You're finally out."
"Did something happen in there just now?"
"That male Student Council President was carried out."
The two girls hurried over, firing questions at him one after another.
Faced with their bright smiles and the effortless energy of youth in their movements, the heaviness from moments ago eased almost instantly.
A smile finally returned to Draco's face.
Things… weren't quite as dire as they had seemed, were they?
...
In Hogsmeade Village.
If Honeydukes Sweets is the place every young wizard adores and makes a point of visiting, then the pub known as The Three Broomsticks is the haven beloved by adult wizards…
Unlike the dim and grimy Hog's Head, this place offers warmth and comfort, along with an array of delightful drinks.
You don't even need to bring your own cup.
Although The Three Broomsticks also serves lemonade, hot mead, red wine, cherry juice, and soda topped with tiny umbrellas, its true specialty—the one everyone comes for—is the Butterbeer made from a special recipe.
And, of course, there's its captivatingly mature and charming landlady, Madam Rosmerta…
After Draco and the others chose a table in the corner and sat down, the beautiful proprietress swayed her way over with unhurried grace.
She looked to be around forty, yet her face and figure were impeccably maintained. In the short distance it took her to cross the room, Draco noticed countless pairs of eyes tracking her every step.
That alone was proof enough of her charm.
"That hair color and those grey eyes… It seems my pub has the honor of welcoming a distinguished guest today~"
Unlike Umbridge, Madam Rosmerta's voice was just as sweet, but without the cloying unpleasantness.
Draco wasn't surprised she recognized him.
After he took the menu, Rosmerta's gaze drifted toward Pansy and the other girls.
With her experience serving all kinds of guests, she immediately caught the subtle dynamic among them. A knowing smile curved her lips.
Which one of them would end up as the young lady of the Malfoy family, she wondered?
"Once you've decided, just tap your choices on the menu. And no alcohol, of course. A few of your professors are in my pub at the moment."
With that gentle reminder, Madam Rosmerta tactfully withdrew, leaving them to themselves.
Professors?
At her words, Draco and the others began scanning the room.
Hermione was the first to spot someone familiar.
"That's…"
"Hagrid?"
"And Professor McGonagall?"
"No, look closer… Isn't that the Headmistress of Beauxbatons Wizarding School?"
A witch with giant blood.
Olympe Maxime…