Hermione's flushed, angry glare made Draco—who had been curious about the effects of the Polyjuice Potion and had intended to examine her condition up close—reluctantly look away. With a sigh, he removed his robe and gently draped it over Hermione's still-trembling body.
Just like that, the tantalizing scene vanished into thin air.
Draco's unexpectedly gentlemanly gesture brought Hermione a small breath of relief, though the regret clearly written on his face made her misinterpret the gesture entirely.
Still, completely drained and unable to move, all Hermione could do was grit her teeth and glare at Draco with a conflicted mix of embarrassment and outrage.
That indignant expression, like she'd just been wronged or taken advantage of, made it look as if Draco had done something truly awful...
Watching Hermione—who still had enough energy to bare her teeth at him—Draco quirked a brow, suddenly finding her quite amusing. He reached out and gave her exposed cheek a gentle poke.
"Looks like we've discovered a side effect of Polyjuice Potion. So, how does it feel? Regretting it yet?"
"..."
Maybe it was because she was still in a highly sensitive state, but under Draco's teasing, Hermione's face kept growing redder, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she glared at him.
"Mm... seems the side effects are more intense than I thought. But thanks to that, our ever-proud Miss Know-It-All has become surprisingly cute~"
"Cute?!"
Staring at the wicked grin on his face, Hermione froze for a moment, then, flustered and fuming, lunged forward and bit down on the offending finger near her cheek.
She knew full well he was teasing her—but strangely, she didn't feel as angry as she thought she should.
Maybe... that's a side effect too.
...
Sitting across from Draco, Hermione hugged a cup of hot chocolate and shot him wary glances, cheeks puffed in annoyance. Her defensive posture and sulky glare made Draco's expression turn oddly complicated.
He was supposed to be the one interrogating her—but somehow, their roles had completely flipped.
Anyone unaware of the situation might've assumed Hermione, with her aggrieved little pout, was the real victim here...
Draco shook his head and brought the conversation back on track.
"Alright, talk. What were you all trying to do?"
"Pervert."
"..."
"Lech."
"..."
Hermione sipped her hot chocolate half-heartedly, muttering insults as she shot daggers his way. Draco's mouth twitched.
Honestly, as a proper noble, Draco had no such indecent intentions.
At first, his only goal was academic: to understand the effects and side effects of Polyjuice Potion. Sure, things got a little out of hand later—but he really hadn't meant to make her cry.
Though he had to admit... watching Hermione, so unwilling to back down, had made him want to tease her just a little more.
Noticing the sly glint in Draco's narrowed eyes, Hermione—now somewhat familiar with that look—panicked and quickly cut him off.
"That thing you said earlier… was it true?"
"What thing?"
"About Harry. You said he might be the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. Did you mean it?"
Hermione peeked her head out from under the robe, her serious tone completely at odds with the way she looked—like a tiny hamster trying to ask big questions. Draco didn't bother hiding anything.
In fact, it wouldn't hurt for her to know.
He figured the girl in front of him—who really did look like a little hamster—would probably keep an eye on Harry Potter for him.
"It's just a suspicion. But I think the chances are real. At the very least, he's connected to it."
Draco didn't mention the source of his intel, but Hermione didn't think he was lying.
Still, she couldn't believe Harry was the one who opened the Chamber. At the very least, she was sure he wasn't the one attacking people. That just wasn't who Harry Potter was.
"That's impossible—unless the attacker and the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets are two different wizards."
"Oh?"
"Think about it. When Mrs. Norris was petrified, Harry and I were at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party. He didn't even have the chance to do anything—you know that."
"You're not wrong."
"And don't forget, when Peeves was attacked, Harry was with you on the Quidditch pitch. He didn't have a chance then either."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with sharp reasoning—more dazzling than ever.
"Besides, why would Harry do something like that? He has no motive."
The more she spoke, the more convinced she became. To drive the point home, she even gave a small, emphatic nod in Draco's direction.
Of course, it was clear Draco had already considered everything she'd said.
"Exactly. That's why I said it was just a suspicion."
He shrugged casually, not bothering to argue who was right or wrong. All he needed was to plant the seed of doubt in Hermione's mind. If something really did happen, he trusted she'd come find him on her own.
Glancing at the time, Draco decided to drop the topic.
"Come on. I'll walk you out. If someone catches you like this, I've got no idea how to explain it."
"I know! And stop hitting me on the head!"
Hermione swatted his hand away in frustration. For some reason, Draco's increasingly bold behavior was starting to wear on her—especially the way he kept patting her head. He did it so naturally it made her grit her teeth.
What bothered her even more was that she didn't particularly hate it...
...
With Draco leading the way, Hermione slipped out of the Slytherin common room without issue.
Fortunately, most of the Slytherin students had gone home for the holidays, so they didn't run into anyone else—saving her from a very awkward explanation.
Tap.
"Um… even though I still think you're wrong, I'll keep a closer eye on Harry for you. And... thanks."
"Wait—"
Before Draco could respond, Hermione—cheeks tinged with pink—vanished down the corridor like a startled kitten with its tail stepped on.
Watching her small figure stumble away, Draco rubbed his chin with a sigh.
Now he was genuinely curious how that stubborn girl was going to explain herself when she showed up in front of everyone... wearing his robe.