For the past few days, Ginny had been counting off every possible Gryffindor boy's name on her fingers... from first year to seventh, without missing a single one.
"Draven?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Drew?"
Another shake.
"Dreyfus?"
Still a shake.
"Drogo?"
Another shake.
"Dryden?"
Still a shake.
Each time, Hermione gave the same response: a quick, unquestioning shake of the head, as if certain Ginny could not guess. She was as cautious and vigilant as a cat hiding its tail.
"It cannot be Dragot, can it?" Ginny asked suspiciously on the way to the Quidditch pitch.
"What is that?" Hermione asked alertly, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
"Oh, a Dragot is a kind of currency in the American wizarding world," Ginny said lazily. "Perhaps you like the smell of money."
"Of course not!" Hermione relaxed, denying it outright.
"Merlin, who is he, anyway? Which boy in our House do you actually like?" Ginny sighed. "I give up. Just tell me, will you?"
"I do not know what you are talking about," Hermione said, unconsciously using the boy's usual innocent tone. He loved to talk like that when he was being evasive.
"This is not fair!" Ginny whispered to Hermione as they walked onto the stands. "I have already told you what is on my mind. I demand an equal, fair friendship. You have to tell me what is on yours too."
"Do not be silly, Ginny. Your secret is far too obvious; almost everyone knows," Hermione said warily. "It was hardly a secret to begin with..."
Ginny was furious. She sulked for a long time in the stands, her face contorted with anger.
Hermione, who was usually so friendly, seemed to be holding back, and she was starting to doubt herself, since she could not work it out... had her insight weakened?
Now, the bewildered Ginny emerged from her recent days of frustration and continued to watch Hermione intently... Hermione was focused on the pitch, her usual dejected expression replaced by excitement.
See, something is wrong with her again.
Ginny thought, there must be someone nearby who is bothering her.
"Malfoy, you scoundrel..." Amid Zacharias's furious tirade, Draco smiled maliciously at him, making a gesture that only fuelled his anger.
Zacharias wanted to say something more, but he did not get the chance to argue with Draco. His captain, Cedric Diggory, flew over and belatedly yelled at Smith, "What were you doing, Zacharias? Were you trying to pull him off? That is a foul!"
"No! The Golden Snitch!" Zacharias roared, his face pale, glaring past Cedric.
Cedric whirled around and saw a platinum-and-gold shadow flash past the tail of his broom, creating a gust of wind that filled him with despair.
The match was over.
Draco had the Golden Snitch.
Of course he had to get it! She had come to see him, had she not? How could he waste Hermione Granger's precious time?
Draco thought smugly, giving Marcus a high-five as he flew towards him.
Marcus, tears streaming down his face, waved his arms wildly like a child, shouting, "We are over three hundred points ahead of Gryffindor! Draco, over three hundred points! Draco, my finest Seeker!"
Draco understood. After this victory, unless there was a stroke of bad luck, this year's Quidditch Cup would likely belong to Slytherin.
"Well done, Draco," Hermione said, lowering her Omnioculars amidst the cheers rising from the distant stands and the anxious sighs from those around her, her voice barely audible, all but drowned out by those beside her.
Harry to her left, and Ginny to her right, watching her intently.
Ginny Weasley's insight, like a sleeping lion suddenly awakened... her mouth fell open.
Of course, of course! It made sense! No Gryffindor boy with "Dr" in his name was Hermione's type!
Perhaps, what Hermione had smelled from the very beginning was not a Gryffindor at all!
But a wretched Slytherin she would never have considered!
Hermione Granger's study partner!
"Dr... Draco?" she asked Hermione urgently, her eyes wide... wider than when she had seen Harry at her house one morning.
She tugged at Hermione's sleeve, stammering, "Dr... Draco Malfoy? You, you smelled him?"
Then, to Ginny's astonishment, the girl who had always confidently shaken her head at her, the most composed and level-headed student in all of Gryffindor, widened her eyes even further, her face quickly flushing red.
Blushing, like a cat whose tail had been trodden on, she blinked guiltily, and did not shake her head.
Did not shake her head.
Merlin's great-uncle! Under everyone's gaze, Ginny very nearly slid clean off her seat in the stands.
After the match, Draco, startled, broke free from the ecstatic Marcus Flint, who had been about to kiss him, and dragged his flying broomstick along as he hurried to catch up with Hermione, who was rushing towards the castle.
He flashed in front of her, blocking her path, looking for praise. "How was it? Pretty good, was it not?"
"Very, very good. Everyone says you are amazing." She looked up at him, her face beaming, her eyes sparkling.
That is more like it.
Draco smiled smugly at her, about to say something more...
She suddenly became serious, her cheeks flushing, as though she were anxiously remembering an unfinished assignment with the deadline fast approaching. Like Crookshanks, she hurriedly turned and ran. "I, I have to go!"
She was studying a little too hard.
Was that Time-Turner business driving her a little to distraction?
Draco's worried eyes followed her departing figure, his steps faltering. She really ought to drop a couple more subjects, should she not?
"Malfoy!" A sudden voice from behind interrupted Draco's thoughts.
He turned around warily, displeased, and saw Cedric Diggory, the captain of Hufflepuff. His face darkened, and he asked impatiently, "What?"
"Congratulations on getting the Golden Snitch. I have to explain, I knew nothing of what Zacharias was doing beforehand. I never thought of, nor told him, to use such methods..." Cedric said hastily, but Draco waved him off.
"No need to explain," Draco said indifferently, glancing at the famously handsome Hufflepuff, ignoring the anxiety and apology on his face.
A strange sense of annoyance rose in his heart, and his voice was as cold as ice. "Spare me your hypocrisy and false kindness... I do not care."
He did not look at Diggory's expression again, and strode away with an indifferent gait.
He did not know how to face Cedric Diggory. In his previous life, Draco had always been indifferent to him, and had never had any real contact with him.
Cedric Diggory had always been polite, gentle, refined, and friendly to everyone. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had always been arrogant, bullying his classmates, and looking down on everyone.
They were not the same kind of person at all.
Draco could never forget that scene.
The body of that seventeen-year-old boy on the ground of the Triwizard Tournament, Professor Snape's black robe draped over him... that was the only time Draco could remember Professor Snape taking off his black robe.
Only then had he roughly understood what death meant.
It was confusion, panic, and emptiness. It was a warm body turning into a cold shell, the heart-wrenching sobs of friends, and the agonising grief of loved ones.
It was the shared lamentation echoing across the school grounds.
In his past life, Draco had mocked others' panic, yet he too had been deeply shaken.
In this life, whenever he saw Cedric Diggory, he remembered his now-empty grey eyes. This made him unsure how to treat him, just as he was unsure how to treat those who had truly died before his eyes.
Seeing them always pierced his eyes, heart, and soul.
Stop thinking, Draco Malfoy, you cannot save everyone.
Stay far away from them, keep your distance!
Stop overthinking, as if you did not have enough to consider already!
He told himself, walking alone through the crowd, occasionally managing a weak smile at a few students who greeted him.