novelraw Chapter 23: Granger Full of Fighting Spirit
Chapter 23: Granger Full of Fighting Spirit
Chapter Twenty-Three: Granger Full of Fighting Spirit
Around three in the morning, the famous giant squid of Hogwarts floated drowsily on the rippling Black Lake, preparing to nap in its favorite territory.
It quickly found the semi-circular crystal structure—the dome of the Slytherin common room—and sprawled most of its body across it, soon falling silent.
Most creatures living in the Black Lake fell silent. Even luminous plankton concealed themselves, hiding among dense aquatic plants at the lake bottom.
Perhaps Draco's private bedroom was an exception—a dim candlelight still flickered in that crystal window, a rarity.
"Then that centaur named Firenze came along. He was guarding Harry Potter and that girl Hermione. I think he was protecting them." Dobby opened his round eyes wide and gestured excitedly to his young master.
"Tell me something I don't know," Draco said impatiently, rising lazily from a dark green leather chair with snakeskin patterns and pacing across the carpet.
"Hagrid arrived with a boy named Neville and that cowardly dog. Later, many professors came—Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Dumbledore. They took Quirrell, who was motionless, and temporarily placed him in the Hogwarts dungeons." Dobby said with lingering enthusiasm. "Great young master! Brilliant spells!"
"You weren't discovered?" Draco asked.
"Dobby has been hiding far away since the professors arrived!" the elf shrieked.
"Good. Where's Potter?" Draco yawned.
"Professor McGonagall took him to the Hospital Wing! The great Harry Potter insisted on walking himself, refusing the professors' Levitation Charm and Hagrid's offer to carry him! He was clearly in pain, yet so strong!" the elf said, tears welling.
Draco shook his head. "And Hermione?"
"Her? That friendly girl? She helped Hagrid bury the dead unicorn, then returned to the Gryffindor common room. What a wonderful girl! She said 'thank you' to Dobby, even knowing Dobby was a house-elf!" Dobby said smugly.
"Well done, Dobby," Draco said with satisfaction. "Flawless."
"So, next—" Draco had barely begun when Dobby shouted, "No! Dobby hasn't spent all his money yet! Dobby doesn't want so many rewards!"
"How about I give you holiday? I've nothing to do lately." Draco rubbed his temples and waved lazily. "Visit old friends, see what they're doing. Take a vacation."
"I don't—" Dobby argued pitifully.
"That's an order," Draco said, yawning impatiently.
"Oh! Noble and great young master! You are so generous to Dobby!" With a loud CRACK, Dobby vanished, tears streaming.
Draco finally drifted into contented sleep and enjoyed good rest.
After nearly a year of exploration, planning, and strategizing, they'd finally reaped rewards tonight.
The cold chains binding his heart loosened slightly, making breathing less suffocating.
With the Dark Lord's soul in Dumbledore's hands, half the battle was won. Dumbledore, with his superior abilities, would surely restrain the Dark Lord. Next, by uncovering the diadem's secret and eliminating potential danger, he could shed those terrifying memories and return to being a carefree Malfoy heir.
Next morning, Draco Malfoy stood before his dressing mirror, gazing at the ambitious boy, and finally gave a faint smile.
He seemed about to touch the door to freedom.
If only he could try harder and persuade the Grey Lady to speak.
"Try harder," Draco thought, sitting at the Slytherin table, staring inscrutably at the brown-haired girl.
"Oh... look at the Gryffindor hourglass! Something's wrong—how did so much sand get added overnight?" Pansy Parkinson shouted from the Entrance Hall.
"Professor Dumbledore added them for us!" Longbottom shouted from the other end, voice brimming with pride. "Last night in the Forbidden Forest, we captured Professor Quirrell!"
"Professor Dumbledore?" "You captured Professor Quirrell?" "The Forbidden Forest? You went there?" Students swarmed the round-faced boy, bombarding him with questions.
Draco walked from the Great Hall and glanced at the boy surrounded by crowd, gesturing excitedly: "Professor Quirrell hurt a unicorn, and we were searching for it during our detention in the Forbidden Forest... then Hermione caught him red-handed!"
"What did you and Potter do? How could you let a girl steal the spotlight? I thought you two earned the extra fifty points!" a senior Gryffindor boy said incredulously.
"McLaggen, don't say that! Harry and Neville certainly helped!" Weasley said from the side. "They each got twenty points!"
"You talk like you saw it yourself!" McLaggen sneered at Weasley, then turned and ordered, "Longbottom, explain again—how exactly was it discovered? How was he captured?"
"Harry and Hermione were one team. I was with Hagrid on another. We saw the signal halfway and went over." Longbottom looked confused. "I can't really say what happened initially. Anyway, Professor Quirrell was eventually caught."
"Then how did you determine the girl caught Quirrell?" McLaggen asked dismissively.
"The centaur said so!" Longbottom said, round face turning red.
"Centaur?" two Gryffindor girls asked in surprise.
"Yes, Lavender, Parvati—I think he was a centaur. There are many in the Forbidden Forest," Longbottom said, sounding uncertain.
"This is getting ridiculous! Unicorns? Centaurs?" Pansy looked him up and down suspiciously, eyes sharp. "Longbottom, you cowardly whiner—what can you possibly accomplish? You're making this up, aren't you?"
---
In following days, rumors spread like wildfire. Hogwarts students buzzed with discussion, offering interpretations. Everyone tried guessing what role those Gryffindors played that night, and why they'd received so many points.
However, the individuals involved kept low profiles, and students barely had chances to question them.
Hermione Granger only appeared during class. Once the bell rang, she disappeared into the library, and apart from a certain Slytherin boy, even Merlin didn't know which nook she studied in.
"I had to hide. Professor Dumbledore told Harry and me to keep it secret," she told Draco, examining a thick book in his private quarters. "He said some news might cause student panic."
Harry Potter remained in the Hospital Wing, refusing visitors. Madam Pomfrey would stand hands-on-hips at the entrance, turning away enthusiastic callers.
Neville Longbottom was easier to catch—he was never shrewd and answered whatever asked. However, he was confused about that night, and apart from repeating the same sentences from the Entrance Hall, offered no new details.
Furthermore, due to his usual timid demeanor and poor memory, students felt his words weren't reliable evidence, veracity inevitably questionable.
"Today, Hufflepuff students—based on that idiot Longbottom's nonsense—started making up rumors!" In the Slytherin common room, Pansy Parkinson wrinkled her nose disgustedly, speaking to Blaise Zabini playing Wizard's Chess. "Some say Granger tied up Professor Quirrell that night and traded him to centaurs for a unicorn; some say Potter defeated twelve centaurs barehanded, which is why he's been hospitalized for days; some say Longbottom and Hagrid encountered Professor Quirrell on a date with centaurs while searching for a unicorn and caught them!"
Blaise was a tall boy with prominent cheekbones, dark skin, and narrow, slightly slanted brown eyes. He moved his rook and said coldly, "Clearly, it's getting ridiculous—they've turned this into entertainment, haven't they? A contest of wild imaginations?"
"It's because the main parties aren't speaking!" Pansy shrugged, picked up her new *Witch Weekly*, and began flipping idly.
"By the way, Draco, aren't you acquainted with Granger?" After a while, she suddenly looked up, sizing up Draco playing Wizard's Chess across from Blaise. "Isn't she your classmate? She often greets you?"
"That's right," Draco said calmly, shifting his Queen.
"Why don't you ask her during Transfiguration?" Pansy pressed.
"Don't make things difficult. You expect him to start conversations with a Muggle-born? Besides, he's not much of a talker anyway." Arrogance appeared on Blaise's face.
"It has nothing to do with blood status. I don't think gossiping in Professor McGonagall's class is wise," Draco said. He unusually spoke longer sentences, making Blaise and Pansy exchange surprised glances.
Draco ignored their scrutinizing expressions. He continued directing his Queen across the board, revealing the King behind her, and cheerfully announced, "Checkmate!"
Blaise gave a regretful grunt, watching dejectedly as his chess pieces raised white flags in surrender.
"In short, the school can't just ignore this nonsense." Pansy flipped through the magazine noisily and said casually, "Someone must come out and explain."
Draco's brow twitched slightly.
Pansy was right. Rumors were rampant, and points had been added inexplicably. A reasonable explanation was necessary.
That evening, faced with cacophony of outrageous rumors, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward at dinner to dispel falsehoods and set the record straight: Hermione Granger received fifty points for discovering Quirrell, who'd harmed the unicorn; Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom each received twenty points for bravely facing danger without abandoning their friends.
Dumbledore didn't reveal the whole truth. Draco understood that both the secret of Quirrell's possessed skull and Potter's scar pain were too sensitive. Revealing only partial information would explain Gryffindor's sudden grade rise without being too dangerous—the Death Eaters probably wouldn't notice anything.
In his previous life, Dumbledore had said very little about this. Draco had learned what was behind Quirrell's head from his father, Lucius—during summer after fourth year, shortly after the Dark Lord's resurrection.
However, the old man was truly biased. Potter hadn't done anything—just rolled on the ground with a headache! As for Longbottom, he hadn't even been there!
Every time Draco passed that huge hourglass and saw the sudden ruby increase, he couldn't help complaining internally.
However, let it be! Given the Dark Lord was successfully imprisoned by Dumbledore, Draco decided to be magnanimous and forgive Potter and Longbottom.
Hermione's brilliant Full Body-Bind alone deserved a hundred points.
He knew she hadn't been unafraid. She'd collapsed afterward.
But she'd withstood pressure and performed excellently.
A twelve-year-old witch accomplishing such a feat! Even with fear in her heart, the wand she'd used to cast the spell had been steady, not shaking at all.
How many possessed such mental fortitude? Draco inexplicably felt pride.
In short, no one could ignore the fifty points Hermione earned for Gryffindor. She finally survived the period of ridicule and regained classmates' kind smiles.
She started sitting front row in every class again, actively answering questions—behaving no different from the confident know-it-all she'd been.
This relieved Draco. He was used to her flamboyant, energetic demeanor. Living dejected, timid, and hiding wasn't Hermione Granger at all.
Since she had talent, she deserved recognition and visibility, not burial. His indifferent grey eyes remained fixed on the girl jumping and raising her hand before Professor Binns.
---
Next came busy days reviewing lessons.
Draco spent most time tutoring those two idiots, Goyle and Crabbe.
For them, an entire year's course content was more preview than review.
"Goyle, you still have a rat's tail stuck to your cup," Draco said, half-laughing, half-crying. "Focus, have some conviction!"
He was in an empty classroom, preparing to help Goyle practice Transfiguration.
Suddenly, Hermione's bushy head peeked from the doorway, and she quietly waved.
"What's wrong?" He walked over, glancing casually. "Hogwarts heroine, who's upset you this time?"
Hermione pursed her lips and said nothing. She pulled him by his sleeve into an empty corridor before stopping, releasing him, and scrutinizing him critically.
Draco Malfoy! The boy trying to stay uninvolved!
Look at him, gazing at her with that relaxed, innocent expression, as if he'd never experienced the Forbidden Forest. Hermione thought—who'd have thought he'd done such a thing?
"I want to know why. I mean, how did you know there was a face on the back of Quirrell's head?" She looked up at him, puzzled.
That night in the forest, so many strange things happened she'd been exhausted and hadn't reacted quickly enough to notice anything unusual. Days later, she'd gradually recovered from shock, life returned to normal, and reason and logic returned to her mind. Only then had she realized something was amiss.
One night, staring at wine-red curtains on her four-poster bed, trying to sleep, Draco's platinum-blond hair kept flashing in her mind.
Initially, she'd just been thinking he'd held her hand in darkness, making her feel safe.
His sudden departure had left her feeling somewhat lost and helpless. This feeling was perplexing.
Thinking about him, she'd suddenly realized something more important: his every move facing Quirrell had been so perfectly timed, his predictions so accurate they were almost unbelievable.
Ultimately, her agreement to secretly take Draco to the Forbidden Forest hadn't meant she completely believed Quirrell would appear—it was merely tacit agreement based on doubt.
But what he'd predicted had actually happened, exactly as predicted, which was astonishing and even terrifying upon examination.
"And that spell you used—I've never heard of it. What's it for?" she asked pointedly.
"I thought after helping you deal with Quirrell and protecting Harry's safety, you'd say 'thank you,'" Draco interrupted.
"Alright, thank you." Those brown eyes remained fixed on him, as if he were some potion ingredient needing dissection.
This wasn't "gratitude"—she was beginning to suspect him.
Draco almost forgot that Hermione Granger wasn't only intelligent but excessively intelligent—so intelligent that sometimes she left people with nowhere to turn.
"Can't you just let it go without asking?" Draco sighed, looking frustrated.
"I can't. Draco, you cast a spell I've never heard of, then dealt with Voldemort." Hermione's brown eyes were so inquisitive, like a stirring rod rummaging through Draco's grey eyes.
"Don't call him by that name!" Draco said irritably.
"That doesn't matter! You defeated him, yet you don't dare say his name? That's ridiculous!" Hermione said dismissively. "When did you become a coward? Draco Malfoy has never been a coward in my eyes."
"You don't understand..." Draco frowned. Hermione had probably misunderstood him.
He'd always been a coward. Been one for a long time.
Draco Malfoy had never been associated with "brave."
He remained patient and evasive. He harbored doubts.
He always dared maneuver cautiously in shadows, rather than launch direct attacks in sunlight.
"You left me alone in the Forbidden Forest! I was terrified! Didn't you say you'd always be with me? Never separated?" Hermione felt angry thinking about it, voice becoming sharp.
"Don't be silly! Even invisible, I waited until Hagrid showed up before leaving! And I left Dobby with you... If there's danger, Dobby will take you away," Draco said expressionlessly.
"Is he that good?" Hermione asked in surprise, forgetting her anger.
"Dobby is quite powerful—even better at concealment magic than I am," Draco explained patiently. "Professor Dumbledore can see through Invisibility Cloaks. Was I supposed to stay and wait to be discovered?"
Hermione stared in disbelief. "Professor Dumbledore can see through Invisibility Cloaks? He's that powerful?"
"There's much you don't know!" Draco sighed, hint of impatience in his voice.
This emotion seemed to sting Hermione.
"Then why didn't you tell me sooner? Why must I force the truth from you? Draco, sometimes I feel like you don't trust me at all, which is why you're always so secretive!" She suddenly felt resentment surge, followed by welling anger. "Everyone thinks my Full Body-Bind defeated him, but I know it's not that simple! I even lied to Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall for you! I think I deserve an explanation!"
"Alright, I surrender!" Draco looked at her indignant face and could feel her anger.
He lazily raised his hand. "I'll explain someday, but not now. Not now. I promise if there are questions I can answer, I'll tell you."
Isn't this the same as saying nothing? Hermione pouted, feeling deflated by his blatant refusal.
Her eyes widened as she stared at him, like a kitten crouching before a fish tank, ready to pounce on a goldfish. Her expression was wary and sharp, as if she'd strike him with claws. "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? You didn't even tell me Quirrell had something on the back of his head—"
She glanced at Draco's tense expression and decided to respect his wishes this once. "The mysterious thing on his head! Why didn't you tell me?"
"This was just reasonable speculation on my part. A Malfoy never jumps to conclusions before confirming guesses," Draco said slowly.
"And Dobby, where did he come from?" Hermione asked another question.
"Oh, that's our house-elf. Didn't you study House-Elf Rebellions?" Draco's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "If there's a chance, I'll let you see him properly. You might like him."
Though he disagreed with her aesthetic sense, he still remembered vividly—in his past life, there'd been a time when she'd particularly enjoyed fighting for house-elf freedom.
She always seemed willing to spend time on seemingly pointless things, like helping vulnerable groups or species lacking status.
"A rather strange quirk," Draco thought.
"Then how did you know Quirrell would be in the Forbidden Forest that day? Another reasonable deduction?" Hermione pressed, determined not to look at the smile on his lips, lest her stern face crumble.
"You could say that," Draco said, noticing Hermione's rosy lips tighten at his words.
"Listen, I have no ill intentions toward you or Potter, and you must remember that," he said seriously, looking directly into her eyes, hoping to convey sincerity in his gaze.
"I know," she said softly, suddenly captivated by his calm grey eyes, anger instantly subsiding. "I know you meant no harm."
The boy smiled. Hint of amusement flashed in his eyes.
This rare smile was enough to calm the heart of an angry girl.
Enough to make Hermione's face flush slightly.
Just then, looking past her bushy brown hair, Draco saw Goyle and Crabbe whispering in his direction from the corridor's other end, looking over as if seeing what was happening.
The hallway wasn't a good place to chat.
These secrets were best kept between them—more people knowing would be more harmful than helpful.
So he gently nudged Hermione, who was about to continue grumbling. "Come on, go enjoy being surrounded and welcomed by your Gryffindor classmates!"
"That doesn't matter at all," Hermione said, face flushed. "I'd rather be with loyal friends than with snobs..."
She always remembered that when subjected to malice, only Draco, who seemed indifferent, showed her kindness.
He wasn't even a Gryffindor, but rather a Slytherin—the House legendarily most hostile to Gryffindor.
But this Slytherin boy didn't mock or ridicule like others.
He comforted her, encouraged her, and cheered her up.
When isolated, helpless, and feeling utterly desolate, he'd found her by the Black Lake, just as he'd found her countless times by bookshelves.
She'd discovered he wasn't indifferent at all—his indifference was just a facade.
There was gentle element in his character. A precious, rare, and genuine gentleness.
He'd opened his private study space to her, allowing her to read in peace without worrying about disdain or sarcasm she'd received in the library recently, or intense, curious stares from students.
Even though some of his behaviors were suspicious, she didn't think he was a bad person.
Draco just liked being mysterious, that's all.
She simply enjoyed solving mysteries and wanted to see what treasures hid behind them—like finding a study space behind ruins, nothing more.
"I want to know more—" she said urgently, before he pushed her away.
"Well then, go study... keep memorizing your House-Elf Rebellions, though I don't think it'll be on exams... If you get first place in your year, I'll consider answering more questions," Draco continued, pushing her along perfunctorily.
"It's a deal!" Hermione finally accepted his proposal.
Like a spirited lion cub, she walked away with head held high—proud, confident, and defiant.
She was eager and impatient, determined to excel in exams and crush the cunning, dishonest, and scheming Draco Malfoy.
Then, she'd pry open his cold, hard shell and dig out all his hidden secrets and valuable possessions, leaving him with nothing.