novelraw Chapter 96: The Confession at the Astronomy Tower
Chapter 96: The Confession at the Astronomy Tower
Chapter Ninety-Six: The Confession at the Astronomy Tower
On Sunday, when Hermione quietly relayed Professor Dumbledore's discovery about Quirrell's escape to Draco under the big oak tree by the Black Lake, she noticed a look of panic on his face that she'd never seen before.
"When did Quirrell escape?" Draco's smile vanished, and he asked, his face pale.
"Professor Dumbledore said it happened during the Quidditch match yesterday at noon," Hermione said with a worried look.
Draco's expression shifted slightly.
He suddenly glanced at the gold necklace that flashed at her neck, a glimmer of hope appearing in his eyes.
"Hermione, can we—" he asked her with a sliver of hope.
"I know what you're trying to do, but I'm afraid it won't work." Hermione sighed and said to him, "The Time-Turner has limitations—it can only go back five hours at most. That happened too long ago—it's too late now."
Draco's face was as pale as the stack of new parchment in his hand.
And so, everything became inevitable.
Peter Pettigrew had given his life to free the Dark Lord.
Even a lion must exert its full strength to hunt a rabbit—he should not have underestimated anyone—not even Peter Pettigrew.
They'd been completely wrong from the start!
Peter Pettigrew had been hiding around Harry for two years, so of course he knew that the Dark Lord's soul was bound to Hogwarts! Draco thought regretfully.
"Harry and Ron must have talked about Quirrell in front of that rat," Draco said stiffly.
"I think so. But they didn't do it on purpose," Hermione said sadly. "Back then, nobody knew that Ron's rat was an Animagus. When the two of them talked about secrets, they'd avoid their roommates and their families, but they'd never avoid a seemingly harmless rat."
"That's right," Draco said, annoyed. "It's all my fault."
Draco was utterly disgusted by his oversight. He'd assumed that the Dark Lord's soul, under Dumbledore's close surveillance, would be perfectly safe at Hogwarts.
There was absolutely no way he'd escape and cause trouble again.
Draco had never imagined that the Dark Lord could escape.
Yes, while he was working hard to trap the Dark Lord, there were others working just as hard to free him!
All it took was a simple Finite Incantatem! Peter Pettigrew had repeatedly sneaked into Hogwarts and stolen Neville's wand, all in an effort to find the Dark Lord and free him.
"It's all my fault," he murmured, feeling a throbbing pain in his temples.
"How could it be your fault?" Hermione said uneasily. "You don't know what he was trying to do. Nobody knew."
"You don't understand..." Draco said in frustration, his voice breaking in the wind.
He was filled with regret.
For countless days and nights, Peter Pettigrew had hidden in the Shrieking Shack. He'd had so many opportunities to catch him and prevent all of this!
However, because of Slytherin's principle of "not meddling in other people's business," he'd carelessly let the light from the Shrieking Shack slip through his fingers time and time again.
Even a single extra glance or a small extra action could have made all the difference.
Damn self-preservation!
Damn not wanting to meddle in other people's business!
If his abilities were limited, he might not be so frustrated.
However, this had absolutely nothing to do with ability—right or wrong was entirely up to him.
Just as Professor Flitwick had repeatedly told them that the Levitation Charm was important, he'd repeatedly dismissed the simple spell he'd learned in first year due to his arrogance.
It wasn't until his floating wine glass fell and shattered during the O.W.L.s exam that he'd realized his mistake.
His arrogance and blindness had ruined everything!
He jumped to his feet, his vision blurred, and he nearly collapsed to the ground. He leaned against the oak tree, stunned for a few seconds, then stumbled away, ignoring Hermione calling after him.
Poor Draco Malfoy! He deeply felt the fragility of the individual and the cruelty of fate.
Oh, fate!
He'd been trying to resist fate, trying to make a change. He'd tentatively probed and manipulated the threads of destiny, hoping they'd deviate from their predetermined course and take a different turn.
However, in the face of fate, all efforts, attempts, and struggles seemed so insignificant and ridiculous.
The events of his memory continued to unfold, one by one: the Fat Lady's portrait would still be vandalized, and the Dark Lord would still roam free...
He'd walked a long and tiring circle, racking his brains, only to be surprised to find that he might be standing still.
His meticulously planned efforts might have resulted in a slight shift in the timeline, but what impact would that have on the final outcome?
Perhaps it had almost no impact. It was almost meaningless.
Then everything would eventually return to its starting point.
Draco climbed the stairs of the Astronomy Tower step by step, like a wandering ghost, returning to the place filled with his complicated memories and endless nightmares.
That place was the biggest turning point in his life.
Lightning had flashed across the Astronomy Tower, and Dumbledore had plummeted to his death. He'd missed that fleeting opportunity and could never turn back.
He might have to become a Death Eater again, his arm branded with the filthy Mark once more, barely clinging to life under the Dark Lord's control. Or perhaps, this time the Dark Lord would give him a quick death—if his secret deeds were discovered.
A lonely figure stood alone on the Astronomy Tower.
That wasn't the Bloody Baron, but another pitiful, disillusioned soul.
Draco gazed at the view of Hogsmeade. From this vantage point, it appeared peaceful, serene, and beautiful, as if those evils had never happened and would never happen—as if Death Eaters would never invade and destroy this sanctuary.
He wondered what it had felt like when Professor Dumbledore fell in his previous life.
Did falling mean that all the suffering in the world would leave him?
But he was still not satisfied.
He was still unwilling.
"No, Draco isn't in the common room." Pansy Parkinson eyed Hermione warily, a look of offence on her face. "A Gryffindor! A Mudblood! What could she possibly want by showing up at the Slytherin common room outside of lessons?"
For Merlin's sake, if it weren't for this self-righteous know-it-all saying there was something important involving Draco, she wouldn't have bothered with her at all!
Look at her unruly hair, all messy and disheveled! Pansy touched her neatly styled bob and felt that she shouldn't talk to a witch who didn't care about fashion—it was beneath her, wasn't it?
"It's nothing... it's about my studies..." Hermione said, her eyes darting around, before preparing to run away.
"Hey, wait! I haven't given you permission to leave yet!" Pansy called out to her, asking arrogantly, "I've been wanting to ask you this for a while! What's with that serpent ring on your hand? Why would a Gryffindor like you wear such a ring? Did Draco give it to you—"
"It's just a gift," Hermione said, flustered. "I'm really in a bit of a hurry, I have to go find—"
"Hey! Wait a minute—" Pansy wanted to interrogate her further and find out what her relationship with Draco really was—this didn't seem like a normal study partner relationship!
Unexpectedly, this messy-haired Gryffindor Mudblood was as slippery as an eel, and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"Use it and then throw it away?" Pansy felt the wind blowing before her with deep resentment and scoffed unhappily.
In the middle of the night, Hermione ran up the Astronomy Tower, panting, and finally found Draco.
He huddled in the narrow space beneath the observation platform, like a lost child, his long legs curled up in a pitiful ball, his hands hugging his knees, his eyes blank and helpless.
She'd never seen him like this before. She was more used to his languid expression, which exuded nobility and arrogance.
Hermione had known for ages that he had many masks covering that perfectly beautiful face.
Most of the time, he was calm and confident, as if everything was under his control and nothing could stump him. He was indifferent to people he wasn't interested in, even to the point of being icy. But when he was with her, he was a gentleman, considerate, and gentle...
But today, in the Astronomy Tower, he'd removed all his glamorous masks, opened the exquisite shell she'd long coveted, and revealed a shockingly weak and even cowardly heart she'd never seen before.
Hermione was furious because he'd so rudely left without saying goodbye, and she'd wasted so much time searching for him. All her study plans were forced to be put on hold, all for the sake of finding a friend who'd disappeared somewhere in Hogwarts!
She couldn't just leave him. He'd left looking so dejected and distraught, as if he'd been deeply hurt.
All the brilliance had vanished from his pure, clear grey eyes, and his pitiful appearance made her uneasy.
She'd searched almost every place in Hogwarts where he might be, but she couldn't find any trace of him.
She'd even gone so far as to beg Pansy Parkinson, that arrogant witch who always looked down on Muggle-borns. If Parkinson hadn't happened to be there, she'd even been considering sneaking into Professor Snape's office, getting some Polyjuice Potion, and recklessly taking another trip to the Slytherin common room!
She was so worried! She was about to be driven mad by this irresponsible, runaway boy!
It was already past curfew, yet she was running around violating school rules, risking losing fifty points—all for whom? This ordinary friend from another House! Hermione thought angrily.
However, when she saw his appearance, her heart felt like it was being pierced by needles.
All her annoyance and anger combined couldn't compare to the way he was frowning at that moment.
At that moment, she had only one thought: to make him happy.
"Draco..." She breathed a sigh of relief, slowly walked over, knelt down before him, and stared at him intently. "Draco, what's wrong? Don't scare me..."
He snapped from his reverie, looked sadly at the witch before him, and whispered, "Hermione..."
"It's me. I'm here." She met his gaze, her hand timidly touching the back of his hand, and was surprised to find that his hand was icy cold, even though it was a warm June day.
"Have you ever had this feeling—" he said softly, his eyes seemingly looking through her pupils into a distant depth, "no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you scheme, many things seem to be going according to a predetermined path, regardless of anyone's will..."
"Why would you have such a thought?" Hermione asked curiously, trying to warm the back of his hand. "Do you always see things so pessimistically?"
Pessimistic? No, this is reality. Draco's lips curled into a bitter smile.
He seemed to be crushed by an invisible burden. He buried his face in his knees, unwilling to face this painful life and dark reality, revealing his helplessness, sorrow, and brokenness to Hermione for the first time.
A sudden, intense pang of heartache surged through Hermione's heart.
What's wrong with him? He'd never been this vulnerable, not even when facing werewolves.
She couldn't help but reach out and stroke his soft, platinum-blond hair, trying to comfort him.
Normally, she'd probably tease him, saying, "Your hair feels really good." But now, none of that mattered. She was only worried about him, worried about what he was afraid of.
She softened her tone and said gently, "Draco, what's wrong? What are you worried about? Tell me, all right?"
"The Dark Lord... he's escaped." His heart was heavy, and his voice came muffled from between his knees.
"I already know. So what?" she said, somewhat bewildered.
What direct connection did this have with Draco?
Wasn't this something Harry should be more worried about? Even Harry himself didn't seem this dejected.
"So what?" He looked up at her, a mocking smile playing on his lips, his face pale. "It means everything is over, all my efforts have been in vain. He will kill me."
"Why would you think that?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "He has no reason to target you. You—you are a pure-blood wizard..." After a long pause, she finally came up with a reason she'd normally scoff at to comfort him.
"Wasn't Harry's father from a pure-blood wizarding family? Compared to him, pure-blood wizards are nothing." Draco laughed sarcastically.
"But your father isn't—" Hermione hesitated, unsure whether to speak. She remembered that Ron and Hagrid had said more than once that Draco's father had supported Voldemort in the past.
"A Death Eater?" he said sadly, his grey eyes welling up with tears, as if rain were falling. "The Dark Lord shows no mercy to anyone, especially those who betray him... I've already gone too far down this path... I can no longer bear the cost of failure..."
Hermione had never felt so clumsy. She said urgently, "Don't cry, I can help you. You have so many friends. Don't cry, Draco..." She pulled out a pale grey handkerchief, which Draco had left with her ages ago when he'd comforted her.
She tried to wipe away his tears, but Draco grabbed her hand.
"Hermione... Hermione..." he murmured her name, looking at her intently, seemingly unsure of what to do with her.
He gazed at her greedily, like a person dying of thirst looking at a distant oasis.
He held her hand tightly, as if he couldn't bear to let go.
In the end, Draco let go of her hand.
A flicker of pain crossed his pale, stiff face as he spoke slowly and with difficulty. "While there's still time... please... leave me... don't... don't come near me."
Hermione was stunned. She looked into his eyes in surprise.
He verbally asked her to leave, but Hermione felt that his eyes clearly pleaded with her to stay.
Perhaps she was overthinking it. Or perhaps there was no emotion in his eyes at all.
Perhaps she'd never intended to leave him at all, never.
She absolutely could not leave at this time, no matter what.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Are you underestimating me?" Hermione glared at him, her face flushed. "In your heart, am I just a selfish coward who runs away from danger and abandons her friends?"
He'd accompanied her and protected her. In the end, when he encountered danger, he actually thought she could just leave like that?
Draco lowered his head, not daring to look at her.
Hermione, true to her fierce nature, cupped his pale, cold face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. In an undeniable tone, she said, "Listen, I don't know what you've done, but I'm ready to face it with you!"
"But I don't want to! I don't want you to be in danger, I don't want you to get hurt in any way, and I don't want you to die—" Draco's face was resting in her warm hands, and he looked at her concerned gaze, suddenly choking up.
Just thinking about those possibilities made his soul ache, an unbearable pain.
He'd clearly just begun to pick up where he'd left off.
But now he had to sever this connection immediately.
He felt pain all over his body.
But what could he do? He looked at her with reluctance, lingering on the warmth of her hands.
"You arrogant fool!" Hermione laughed angrily, leaning closer to his face, her eyes burning with rage. "Have you ever considered that I also don't want you to be in danger, don't want you to get hurt in any way, and don't want you to die?"
Draco was terrified by her anger.
He looked at her with his dull grey eyes, shrinking back, not daring to speak.
"Draco Malfoy, what are you so self-important about? You think I care about this self-sacrificing act? I want to stand by your side and face difficulties together, not be some rat in the gutter, hiding in a dark corner and eking out a living! Slytherins have no courage—they're all cowards, aren't they? Well, I'll share some courage with you! Gryffindor has never lacked courage! We have as much as you want!" she said haughtily and angrily, the fire in her eyes seeming to melt the frost in his heart.
The water that had melted from the frost trickled down his face.
His stiff heart began to beat faintly again, vibrantly, freely, and full of hope.
Hermione Granger, her eyes blazing with anger—she was furious.
Her angry expression was dazzling, Draco thought blankly.
Just like his favourite star, Vega, it was so dazzling that it was hard to look away.
"I refuse to leave you. You said it was all your fault that Peter Pettigrew ran away, and I just don't understand it." Hermione glared at him. "You're hiding something from me. You're hiding so much from me, and you won't tell me anything. You have to tell me today!"
"I—" Draco struggled.
"Tell me, all right? Ever since first year, I've always felt you were mysterious. In second year, I even thought you were a Dark wizard. Honestly, I don't want to misunderstand you anymore. You're not an evil Dark wizard at all—you've been secretly doing good things without telling anyone." Hermione didn't continue to vent her anger, but calmed down, muttering as she sat down beside him, resting her face on his shoulder, gazing with him at the distant night sky and the brilliant stars.
Draco looked at her in alarm, at the little witch who was tearing off his mask.
"I've known all along that you're not as cold as you seem. I know you're kind at heart. You say you're not brave, but you've always protected me, even daring to face werewolves. Now, you say you've offended Voldemort, which proves one thing: you're not one of his supporters—you're one of his opponents, aren't you?" Hermione held his cold hand, softening her tone.
"Don't say that name." He flinched. "Please."
"All right... You-Know-Who." Hermione sighed, deciding not to argue with him and respecting his stubbornness about the form of address for the time being. "Come on, tell me, what exactly did you secretly do that makes you think you're being hunted by You-Know-Who?"
"Do you... really dare to know all this? It's not too late to regret it now. Once you know all this, there's no turning back." Draco lowered his eyes sadly, concealing a complex emotion within them.
This is your last chance to escape the truth of all this, Hermione Granger.
Do you know how many times I wanted to hold you in my arms, but I was afraid you'd hate it, so I didn't dare?
How many times have I wanted to just grab you, but I was afraid of hurting you, so I didn't dare?
Do you know that once you're with me, I might never want to let you go?
Even if you're afraid, regretful, or hate me, I still don't want to let you go.
Can you bear all of this? Regardless of the truth, or me?
"Yes, tell me," Hermione said without hesitation, warming his damp heart with her usual innocent enthusiasm, as if casting a Drying Charm on his soul.
She said earnestly, "I want to know everything, down to the smallest detail."
She gripped his hand tightly. Her nimble, slender hand held him firmly in her palm.
Merlin, her hands are so warm. Draco selfishly coveted that warmth.
He was a Pandora's box. Once she opened him, how many monsters would fly out... those monsters might devour her.
Yet she remained innocent and passionate, undeterred by the cold.
She tried to warm his heart, which was as cold as ice, with the warmth of her soul. She not only wanted to open him up, but also wanted to know more.
He turned his head and looked at her with a sorrowful yet joyful gaze for a long moment.
As if sensing something, she raised her head and met his gaze without fear, her eyes pure and bright.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, knowing it might get burned, it still craved the bright light.
His disheveled, weak heart was tentatively starting to beat again, even though it was bittersweet, even though it was filled with fear, even though it might plunge him into the abyss.
She might be afraid if she found out what kind of monster she'd unleashed.
But she didn't show any fear at that moment. This gave him a bit of courage.
So Draco said softly, "As you wish."
In the howling night wind of the Astronomy Tower, Draco opened his shell a little.
He began to tell her what he'd done:
How he'd found the knowledge of Horcruxes in the little black diary with her help in translation.
He told her what exactly the Horcruxes created by the Dark Lord were.
He told her that the diary Harry had destroyed in second year was a Horcrux, and that Sirius Black and Kreacher had recently destroyed Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's locket.
He told her how he'd obtained the Basilisk's fangs from the Chamber of Secrets and single-handedly destroyed Ravenclaw's Diadem, a story that was originally known only to him.
He told her that he was secretly assisting Dumbledore and secretly cooperating with Sirius Black in an effort to find the Peverell Ring.
He told her how much he'd wanted to trap the Dark Lord's soul, preventing him from doing evil, but that soul had already escaped...
Of course, he still held back some things.
He carefully avoided details that touched on other people's privacy, such as his mother Narcissa stealing the Cup, and the Grey Lady being deceived by the young Dark Lord.
He carefully concealed the secret about his previous life—a secret that was too sordid and too bizarre.
He only picked out the secrets that made sense, the facts that were out in the open. Even just those were enough to leave a fourteen-year-old witch speechless.
With a death wish, he tried to lay bare a part of his darkness for her to see—his confusion, fear, breakdown, and helplessness.
Even his sorrows. He couldn't confide in his parents, given their past as devotees of the Dark Lord, as staunch pure-bloods and Death Eaters. They'd never support him, never.
Sure enough, her warm brown eyes were changing, revealing a look of surprise...
Filled with immense unease, he gritted his teeth and continued speaking, while keeping a close eye on her, his heart trembling with anticipation.
He waited for fear, alienation, and indifference to show in those eyes before they left him.
These were terrifying, complex, and heavy secrets that would frighten anyone who heard them.
These secrets were far beyond what a fourteen-year-old witch should be able to bear.
He asked himself, could he have handled this at fourteen? The answer was no.
How could she be expected to bear all this? It would be perfectly understandable if she ran away in fear, away from the Astronomy Tower, away from him in darkness, away from him who harbored such a great secret. Draco thought bitterly.
But he was wrong.
After a brief moment of surprise, Hermione Granger's eyes showed no fear, but rather shone with increasing excitement and exhilaration. She even said to him, "Draco, why didn't you tell me sooner? I could have gone with you to destroy the Horcruxes!"
"What?" he asked her incredulously.
"I said, I want to help you destroy the Horcruxes! I can help you deal with You-Know-Who!" She smiled at him with delight, as if he were a protostar she'd finally managed to observe in the night sky, or a dusty treasure she'd discovered in ancient historical ruins.
How could Hermione not be overjoyed?
For the past three years, all her vague worries and doubts about him, all the speculations whispered in her ear—that he was an evil, ruthless Slytherin Dark wizard—had finally vanished.
Now Hermione could finally be completely certain that Draco Malfoy was never a boy obsessed with Dark magic.
He had absolutely no connection to evil. He did not, as was rumoured, support Voldemort.
He carried a huge secret, but it was never darkness—rather, it was a chilling light.
Draco had light in his heart. He deserved her love, every single hair on his head.
He was the best boy. Even though he treated her like a younger sister, he was the best, the most capable, and the most worthy of her affection.
The adorable boy was staring blankly at her, seemingly not understanding what she was saying. He was only focused on looking at her with his moist, clear eyes, his lips trembling slightly.
"I've always thought you were pretty amazing, just a bit secretive. I knew you'd been doing things behind the scenes, but I didn't know they were this earth-shattering. But do you really think you can single-handedly destroy all the Horcruxes and fight off You-Know-Who and his cronies?" Hermione took his hand and chuckled softly. "Haven't you thought about finding someone to share this responsibility with?"
"But—" he hesitated, feeling both delighted and incredulous.
His lonely and helpless heart was firmly gripped by Hermione Granger's unwavering gaze.
"No buts, I'm going to do this with you!" she said again, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him.
These were the most moving words Draco Malfoy had heard since his rebirth.