As the saying goes, a river doesn't freeze three feet deep in a single day.
While Draco's behavior had indeed taken Harry and the others by surprise, that alone wasn't enough to shake the impression they already had of him.
Especially not for Ron—if he hadn't been keeping his head down, the fury in his eyes would've been plain for Draco to see.
And seeing "Pansy" sitting so close to Draco made Harry feel a faint but undeniable irritation, stirring up memories he didn't care to revisit.
Unbeknownst to Hermione, who was quietly thrilled that her plan was going well, her approach had been off from the start. The idea that she could shift their perception of Draco like this had been naive.
Hearts don't change that easily...
As Draco set aside the Daily Prophet, he gave Goyle and Crabbe a strange look.
"You two… don't seem too thrilled. Weren't you the ones most eager to see the Weasleys get what's coming to them? I thought this would be good news for you."
"Hahaha… Maybe it's just a stomachache," Harry replied stiffly.
"..."
"Huh?"
Goyle's awkward overacting and Crabbe's silence immediately raised Draco's suspicions.
Sensing the danger, Hermione quickly moved closer to Draco, their arms brushing. The warmth made the tips of her ears flush pink, but she pushed through the pounding of her heart and jumped in to save her two useless teammates.
"Anyway, how was the Hogwarts Christmas party? Was it fun?"
Maybe she was too nervous—or maybe it was the unfamiliar weight on her chest—but Hermione misjudged her balance. While speaking, she nearly toppled into Draco's arms.
Draco, who only needed to lean forward a little to close the distance between them, sighed and gently pressed a finger to her forehead, nudging her back slightly.
"I didn't pay much attention to it, really. But the cake wasn't bad. And… you're too close."
Even though his words sounded dismissive, in the next moment, Draco casually tucked a loose strand of "Pansy's" hair behind her ear.
That indulgent touch and gaze—and the warm brush of his fingertips on her cheek—sent shivers through Hermione's stiffened body. Her brain short-circuited, and her dazed, flustered look made Draco chuckle softly.
The sound of that laugh finally snapped Hermione out of it. Realizing what had just happened, her face turned bright red. She quickly lowered her head and scooted to the side, avoiding eye contact with the wide-eyed Harry and Ron.
Although Harry and Ron were barely holding their cover, Hermione's convincing performance was enough to keep Draco from growing suspicious.
She acted almost exactly like how Pansy usually behaved around him—maybe a bit shyer than usual, but nothing that raised any red flags.
Watching Hermione sit beside Draco with flushed cheeks and shifty eyes, while Harry and Ron stared at her with increasingly baffled expressions, it was hard not to wonder if this was really the Hermione they knew.
Still, for all her flustered antics, Hermione's accidental success had paid off in more ways than one. And it wasn't just because she was playing the role of a pretty girl.
'I'd planned to handle this alone... but clearly, that's not going to work.'
Feeling how unusually soft and clingy "Pansy" was today, Draco rubbed his brow in frustration. His plans had been thrown off by their unexpected return to Hogwarts.
It wouldn't be a big deal if they found out what he was up to, but in Draco's opinion, it was a bit too soon for that.
Shaking his head, Draco pushed the thought aside and shifted his attention back to Goyle and Crabbe—or more precisely, to the task he'd assigned them earlier...
"How'd it go? Did you find anything out about that incident the other day?"
"That… incident..."
"..."
Harry Potter, who had absolutely no idea what Draco was talking about, stammered and gave a subtle elbow to Ron, who was zoning out again.
Strangely, Ron didn't react at all—like he'd been hit with a full-body Bind Curse. As Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, cold sweat began to form down Harry's back.
If they got found out, this wouldn't just be a matter of a few house points being docked...
Luckily, it seemed Lady Luck hadn't abandoned them just yet.
"Looks like nothing came of it. Figures—there's no way my father and the others would've left behind such an obvious trail."
"Y-yeah... that's right."
"..."
"..."
"Forget it. I wasn't expecting much anyway. Now then—how about you shift your attention to the Chosen One instead?"
Caught off guard by the sudden mention, Harry, the so-called Chosen One, looked up at Draco in surprise. But beneath the panic, a flicker of excitement sparked—Draco might've just handed him some critical intel.
"Why? Are you planning to—cough, cough! I mean, there's nothing special about the Chosen One, is there?"
Harry almost gave himself away. After a few hard coughs, he barely managed to squeeze out the question he really wanted to ask.
Draco didn't seem to find Goyle's rare curiosity suspicious at all.
"Let's just say... some reliable intel made me seriously suspect the Chamber of Secrets has a lot to do with the Chosen One. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one who opened it."
"What... how's that possible? Wait—you're saying it wasn't you?"
"You think Harry—the Chosen One—was the one who opened the Chamber?"
"So it really wasn't you, Draco~"
Draco blinked, caught off guard by their wildly different reactions. Was it really that shocking?
And why would they assume I was the one who opened the Chamber...
...
Watching Goyle and Crabbe clutch their stomachs and rush out of the common room, Draco started to feel something wasn't quite right.
His gaze flicked to the untouched pumpkin pie and pumpkin candies on the table. His grey eyes narrowed, and the fingers resting on the armrest began to tap rhythmically.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The subtle sound in the air filled Hermione—who still hadn't found an excuse to escape—with a growing sense of pressure. Especially the occasional glint of sharp insight in Draco's eyes—it made her chest tighten.
If he realized what was going on… how would she explain herself?
Just then, Draco's gaze landed squarely on her.
"I was saying..."
"Ahh!"
"...???"
Hermione's startled yelp, like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, made Draco stare curiously at the clearly-nervous "Pansy" in front of him.
Under the scrutiny of that gaze, Hermione instinctively grabbed the teacup on the table and took a huge gulp.
Draco's expression froze for a few seconds... then the corner of his mouth slowly curved upward.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three...
"Pfft!! What is this taste?!"
The overwhelming bitterness and sourness exploded on Hermione's tongue like a full-blown funeral march. Her face scrunched up, looking for all the world like a poor, bullied puppy.
Unfortunately, she didn't notice Draco watching her with a smirk that only deepened.
Until...
"So, let me guess—what little lost kitten wandered into my territory?"
"..."
"..."
Still recovering from the traumatic experience of Gurdyroot Infusion and with her tongue poking out in agony, Hermione froze the moment she heard those words.
She was doomed...