HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 72: Arithmancy Research

Hermione looked considerably better early Tuesday morning.

Her cheeks were fair and rosy, radiating vitality, and she'd stopped sneezing. With a bright smile, she raised her glass of pumpkin juice to the two sleepy boys seated a short distance away at the table, as a greeting.

Draco forced a smile, gave her a slight nod, and smiled faintly.

This morning was another Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

"Spare me!" Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle in frustration.

But the latter two seemed quite interested in Hagrid's course.

"That big oaf isn't as difficult as Professor McGonagall," Crabbe chuckled. "All you need to do is know how to bow."

"No homework assigned yet," Goyle said casually.

Since the Hippogriff had been "a great success" in class, the newly appointed Care of Magical Creatures professor had been more enthusiastic than ever.

In this lesson, they would learn about the Bowtruckle, a tree-guarding creature primarily found in the forests of western England, southern Germany, and parts of Scandinavia.

The task for this lesson was to describe the Bowtruckle's characteristics as best they could. Hagrid gave each group of students a small potted tree, and the Bowtruckles hid in the branches. The eight-inch-tall creatures were a novelty, and the classroom atmosphere was lively.

"Actually, he originally wanted to teach Blast-Ended Skrewts first... Hermione advised him to postpone it," Ron whispered to Draco.

Draco gave the girl an approving look—she was having a lively discussion with Susan Bones.

Hermione Granger's clever mind had saved them from so much misery! She could probably tell at a glance that those creatures were utterly impractical.

Draco never wanted to experience those nightmarish Blast-Ended Skrewts again in his life.

"I think Hagrid lacks the judgment a professor should have regarding dangerous creatures. You should make him realize that. If he doesn't want to lose his position after only a few days, he needs to understand one thing: not everyone is as thick-skinned as him." Draco's interest was low, and his expression was somewhat indifferent. "You know, the Board of Governors has always been very concerned about student safety."

Ron pursed his lips, not refuting him, but instead nodded. "Percy said when he was our age, he'd only just learned about Flobberworms—that's quite a difference—Mum would probably be horrified if she knew we were learning about Hippogriffs on our first day."

"It's fortunate nothing went wrong." Draco observed the hawthorn tree before him, identifying the bark and the bright green twigs, and said lazily, "Just imagine what would have happened if some students had been attacked by those creatures."

Ron shuddered and refused to consider the possibility.

"Can anyone describe the Bowtruckle's temperament?" Hagrid asked with a smile. "Hermione?"

"The Bowtruckle is a peaceful and extremely shy creature that feeds on insects..." Hermione answered fluently from the front row, "but if the tree it inhabits is threatened, it will leap down and attack any woodcutter or tree surgeon attempting to destroy its home, gouging their eyes with its long, sharp fingers."

Crabbe and Goyle, who were examining the tree next door, had wanted to try breaking off a branch for some reason, but after hearing Hermione's explanation, they secretly withdrew their hands.

Draco couldn't help but chuckle. His gloomy mood improved slightly, and he gently stroked the Bowtruckle before him. The little creature curiously tilted its head at him, its small brown eyes peeking from behind the hawthorn branches.

The teaching content for this lesson was well chosen.

"Excellent, five points for Gryffindor," Hagrid said with a smile, and Hermione's face flashed with a smug look.

"Is her cold completely cured?" Draco asked Ron, who was standing beside him.

"She couldn't be better." Ron shrugged, annoyed. "I reckon she either caught cold or was just throwing a tantrum. After all, she couldn't stand what Professor Trelawney said to her..."

"What?" Draco suddenly turned to regard Ron, his lazy demeanor vanishing completely.

"Professor Trelawney told her in Divination that she 'didn't have the right aura,' and she was very upset about it. I told her she's always been stubborn and doesn't want to admit she can't do something..." Ron muttered discontentedly. "I was just stating the obvious! And she didn't speak to me all day. Can you believe how petty she is?"

"Wait a moment—did she take Divination?" Draco asked in shock.

"Of course we went. We went first thing yesterday morning, and we even said goodbye to you before we left, didn't we?" Ron said, puzzled.

"Now, that's genuinely interesting," Draco said, studying her as she taught Neville Longbottom how to identify Bowtruckles on Hagrid's behalf.

"What's interesting?" Ron asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Nothing. I just suddenly remembered something intriguing." Draco didn't continue the conversation, instead following Hermione's every move with an inquisitive gaze.

In Ron's later description to Harry, he was like a large cat awakened from slumber, suddenly focused and determined to find the end of its favorite ball of yarn.

Draco Malfoy was keeping close watch on Hermione Granger's every move.

After lunch, he saw Harry and his friends hurrying toward the North Tower. The path through the castle to the North Tower was lengthy. It was impossible for her to travel back and forth instantly.

However, at the same time Harry and his friends were attending Divination, Hermione suddenly appeared in classroom 7A on the seventh floor and settled steadily in the seat to his right.

Her face didn't look particularly well, and Draco could vaguely spot the book Unfogging the Future through the gap in her rucksack.

"Divination not going too well?" he asked casually.

"Yes, it's so tedious," Hermione said unconsciously.

"I'm curious how you manage to attend two classes simultaneously?" Draco said casually.

"Oh, of course not." Hermione glanced at him awkwardly, then cautiously tucked something hanging around her neck into her robes—a flash of gold disappearing instantly.

Draco gave her a meaningful look. She was concealing something again.

They didn't have a chance to continue their conversation because Professor Vector had rushed into the classroom and requested they open Numerology and Grammatica.

"In the last lesson, we learned that Arithmancy is based on two very ancient ideas. Can anyone summarize the basic content of these two concepts for us?" Professor Vector asked the few students in the classroom with great interest.

Hermione raised her hand eagerly.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Vector smiled at her.

"The first idea is that people's names contain important clues revealing their personality and destiny," Hermione said clearly, her face beaming with confidence. "The second idea was first proposed by the ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras over 2,500 years ago. He believed that each number from one to nine has its own unique character that can help us understand all things."

"Absolutely correct! Five points for Gryffindor," Professor Vector said kindly.

She cleared her throat and continued her explanation to the students. "Those proficient in Arithmancy combine these two concepts and, through centuries of practice, have developed many complex systems, converting names into numbers and then analyzing the results. Today, we will practice one of the most widely used systems, where we'll extract three primary numbers from a person's name: the Character Number, the Heart Number, and the Social Number."

Professor Vector was a middle-aged witch with a rational temperament, and her style differed vastly from Professor Trelawney's.

She had sleek black hair and always wore maroon robes and a pointed hat of the same color. She appeared very serious and was often stern with lazy and dim students, but she was very kind to those with mathematical talent.

Draco was very satisfied with the course and the classroom.

The classroom was clean and tidy. A few simple equations were written on the blackboard at the front, and a large multiplication chart was posted on another board. There were no patterned armchairs or bulging cushions, no oppressive red light, and no dirty candle stubs, playing cards, crystal balls, or tea leaves.

Please—he genuinely didn't appreciate messy environments.

Next, Professor Vector distributed a numerical chart to each table. She asked them to pair up and work together to interpret each other's names using Arithmancy theories and methods.

The classroom was filled with the scratching of quills and the rustling of turning pages. Draco and Hermione were writing each other's names on parchment.

"Draco, what's your middle name?" she asked as she wrote.

"Lucius, just like my father," Draco said casually. "Is yours Jean?"

"Oh no, it's Jane, like my mother." Hermione smiled at him.

"Is that so?" Draco lazily raised an eyebrow, remained silent, and amended a few strokes on the parchment.

Next, they performed calculations based on the charts and numbers in the book. Every student in the classroom was muttering to themselves, working diligently at the calculations.

"How's it going?" Hermione asked him after a quarter hour. She was writing a series of numbers rapidly on the last line of her parchment, clearly close to finishing.

"Finished. Hermione Jane Granger, Character Number seven. You are intellectually gifted, intelligent, and perceptive. You enjoy hard work and challenges... and are interested in all things mysterious. Originality and imagination are far more attractive to you than money and wealth. Simultaneously, you may also possess pessimistic, ironic, and insecure traits..." Draco read slowly and methodically, examining the number chart.

"I don't think I have a pessimistic personality," she couldn't help but say. "And not at all—not even a penchant for sarcasm or insecurity—"

Draco glanced at her, unable to help recalling the sarcastic remarks she'd made to him in his previous life—she hadn't shown him any mercy then. "Oh, regarding 'enjoying sarcasm,' I suggest you don't underestimate your potential."

Hermione snorted. "Anything else? Heart Number?"

"Your Heart Number is one," he said approvingly. "You are very independent, focused, honest, and determined. You're the type who works alone. You set a goal for yourself and then pursue it. You dislike working with others and you dislike receiving orders. You may be self-centered, somewhat willful, and domineering..."

"Self-centered? Willful? Draco, are you certain you didn't miscalculate? And have I ever acted domineering? That doesn't seem right. Are you having me on?" Hermione was even more indignant. She leaned closer, peering over his shoulder to make out the chart covered in tiny writing.

"I'm absolutely certain I didn't miscalculate." Draco shrugged, raising the parchment and chart in his hand to show her. "See? It's written right here. I didn't fabricate it. Also, your Social Number is six. The characteristics you project externally are harmony, friendship, and family values; loyalty, responsibility, and love; and a strong ability to adapt to different environments..."

"That's more accurate." Hermione's chin rested on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the table, and she said softly, "At least there's something complimentary."

Draco wanted to turn and tease her, but when he turned, he realized how close she was to him.

The face of that single-minded girl was so near, emanating a sweet fragrance. He could see the tip of her delicate nose, her bright eyes fixed intently on the parchment and charts in his hands. Her chin rested gently on his shoulder, and she murmured something softly, her chin vibrating against his shoulder as her lips moved.

In an instant, the sarcastic remarks in his mind vanished; even the feeling of mental exhaustion and lethargy seemed to lessen.

He couldn't help but gaze at her and smile.

Hermione finally finished checking the numbers and charts.

"All right, you're correct," she said reluctantly. "I never imagined I had this sort of personality hidden within me—"

Helplessly, she turned her face toward him, wanting to give him a resentful look, but suddenly discovered he was gazing at her with a beautiful smile on his lips.

Ah, he smiled. Her eyes blinked rapidly, a mixture of surprise and nervousness in her heart.

He was right before her. Close enough to see the light in his grey eyes. Close enough to see that his pupils were filled with her reflection.

Hermione was caught off guard. A faint blush rose to her cheeks from his barely perceptible breath.

She quickly moved her face away from his shoulder, frantically rummaging through the parchment on her table. "Ah, I've already calculated yours. Do you want me to read it to you..."

Draco felt a sudden lightness on his shoulder, and a sense of bewilderment washed over him.

But seeing the slight blush on her face, he felt rather pleased. "All right, I'll give you the chart."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, Character Number nine." Hermione hastily flipped through the charts and began reading the analysis, her speech as rapid as a startled rabbit. "It represents completion and fulfillment, a willingness to serve others. You're suited to be a teacher, scientist, or humanitarian. You're determined, work tirelessly, and never grow weary. You often inspire others. However, you may also be somewhat arrogant, and when things don't proceed as planned, you might appear rather self-righteous..."

"Wait a moment!" Draco said incredulously. "Arrogance? Self-righteousness?"

Hermione ignored him, forcing herself to continue reading, word by word. Gradually, she felt her blush lessen. "Heart Number two represents inner harmony, loyalty, a willingness to accept responsibility, and exceptional fairness. However, 'two' also represents contradiction, a mixture of positive and negative aspects. It often represents two diametrically opposed things: day and night, good and evil, etc."

"What utter rubbish!" Draco interrupted her, no longer bothering to examine her, a faint blush spreading across his pale face. "You make me sound like—what do Muggles say—someone with a split personality!"

Hermione laughed aloud.

Now her mindset had returned to normal, and she was no longer inexplicably panicked as before. Drawn in by his personality analysis, she chuckled and continued reading. "People with this number may be introverted, withdrawn, moody, indecisive, and quite introspective..."

Draco released a groan of pain.

She clicked her tongue in amazement as she regarded him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Oh, my poor thing, so introverted and withdrawn..."

"Please don't say that," Draco said with a pained expression, suddenly understanding the disbelief she'd just experienced.

"Your Social Number is seven. You project strong intellectual ability, are intelligent and perceptive to the outside world. You enjoy hard work and challenges. You're serious, possess an academic air, and are interested in all things mysterious. For you, originality and imagination are far more attractive than money and wealth..."

Upon reading this, she couldn't help but smile and turn to regard him. "Truly? Draco Malfoy would forgo money and wealth to choose imagination?"

"Imagination—" Draco had given up struggling with the analysis by now. He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so, unless it's some sort of imagination unique to this world."

She glanced at him quickly, then averted her gaze and continued reading with interest. "Simultaneously, they may also possess characteristics of pessimism, a penchant for irony, and insecurity..."

Upon reading this, she briefly made an adorable, slightly surprised expression. "Insecurity?"

"Don't forget your Character Number is also seven, and you possess these traits too. Essentially, we're no different..." Draco reminded her, lest she tease him again.

Hermione shrugged, unconcerned. She was engrossed in examining the charts and didn't argue with him.

"Listen, what's happening with your timetable?" Taking advantage of a break after finishing calculations, and seeing Professor Vector still checking calculation methods with a group of students behind them, Draco quickly questioned her. "I know you're also taking Divination, but how is that possible? The class times overlap, don't they?"

"Draco! We're still in class! How can we gossip like this?" Hermione said with a reproachful look, turning to Professor Vector and seriously asking about the calculation method.

Draco regarded her profile, completely absorbed in her work, and felt utterly helpless.

She was clearly evading the question and determined not to discuss it!

This cunning girl.

In the days that followed, whenever he showed even the slightest hint of wanting to ask her about her "timetable," Hermione would begin unleashing her "willful and domineering" traits.

She began regarding him with pity, calling him an "introverted, withdrawn, insecure poor thing."

"Keep your voice down—it's embarrassing. I won't ask anymore, all right?" Draco's face began to flush. He was both afraid of revealing his personality traits and embarrassed by her calling him "poor thing"—a term that was somewhat subtle, awkward yet affectionate. This left him rather flustered.

Hermione regarded his unusually flustered state with satisfaction and decided to let him off.

After class, she went even further. As though afraid he'd change his mind and continue questioning her, she slipped away with a pile of books on her back.

Draco was left sitting there, completely dumbfounded.

For the first time since his rebirth, his self-esteem suffered a subtle blow—he'd been pitied by a girl for an entire class period, and then she'd had to avoid him!

Simply because he'd asked a harmless question.

This was what she meant by "friends should treat each other with honesty"!

He wrinkled his nose and finally decided to seek assistance.

After pondering for a while, he grabbed a piece of parchment from his desk, which he hadn't had time to tidy yet, quickly wrote a few words, swept all his belongings into his bag, and headed straight for the Owlery at Hogwarts.

Joan was idly preening her tail feathers with her beak on a magnificent perch in the center of the room, having recovered from her long journey to Egypt. She was overjoyed to see Draco.

"Could you deliver this letter to my grandfather? Be careful and don't get caught by dangerous people." He patted Joan's head, rolled the letter into a small cylinder, and tied it to one of her legs.

The letter read as follows:

Dear Grandfather,

I hope you are well. I have arrived at Hogwarts safely and there is no need to worry.

I have a question for you: Is there any sort of magic that allows a person to appear in two places simultaneously?

I respectfully send my regards.

Your bewildered grandson, Draco

Joan regarded him with trusting eyes and lovingly pecked the back of his hand with her beak. She skillfully took flight from the Owlery, soaring through the sky and quickly disappearing below the horizon.

Emerging from the Owlery, Draco planned to head to the library to finish his half-completed Arithmancy assignment. As he rounded a corner near the library, he overheard several students chattering: "Yes, Professor Sybill Trelawney said—"

"—This year, one person will leave us forever—"

"That's rather terrifying!"

"That's not necessarily true! Consider Peter Pettigrew; I've heard someone spotted him in a nearby village."

"Oh, this is dreadful! Is he targeting Hogwarts?"

"I wager he's here for revenge. Reckon it's Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy...?"

"When are you going to decide who's leaving?" Draco approached them, speaking in a listless tone. They were startled and buried themselves in their books, neither daring to utter another word.

Excellent.

Sybill Trelawney, that mad Seer, and her rabble of eccentric charlatans.

Whether it was Divination or Arithmancy, Draco absolutely refused to admit his mood was affected.

It wasn't because of those rumors, nor because Hermione kept her little secret from him!

He expressionlessly brushed off nonexistent dust from his robes, suddenly losing interest in the library. He turned to leave, only to walk directly into Marcus, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"You're here! Brilliant, that's exactly whom I was seeking!" A smile spread across his burly face. "The Quidditch trials are next week, and Pucey, Bole, Derrick, and the others have all registered..."

"I'll register too," Draco said.

"Excellent," Marcus said with satisfaction. "I genuinely can't think of anyone more suitable to be Seeker than you. If we want to win the Quidditch Cup this year, it must be you. Have you been practicing considerably this summer?"

"Naturally," Draco smiled at him. "Rain or shine."

"Excellent. I look forward to your performance in the trials. I still need to inform Warrington, Montague and the others..." Marcus said gruffly, handing Draco an envelope before leaving. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to give this to you."

"Thank you." Draco accepted the envelope, a question arising in his mind. Why would Dumbledore suddenly contact him?

Draco opened the envelope with little interest and unfolded the note:

Draco, please come to the Headmaster's office at 4 p.m. this Tuesday. The password is: 'Cockroach Cluster.'

He sighed. What an unpleasant day.

He was in very poor condition today. He had absolutely no desire to meet this wizard, who possessed such sharp eyes and keen perception, under these circumstances.

Besides, what could Dumbledore, such a busy man, possibly want with an ordinary, well-behaved third-year student like him?

It was definitely nothing favorable to contemplate. Draco yawned lazily and sauntered toward the Headmaster's office.