After calming down—and finally reaching the point where she couldn't eat another bite—Astoria at last had the presence of mind to notice things beyond food.
Wizards from all over the world.
Their unique specialty goods.
And an endless assortment of Quidditch merchandise.
All of it dazzled the eyes of those who came here.
Aside from the wide variety of international delicacies, most merchants wisely focused on selling Quidditch-related goods to capitalize on the excitement of the World Cup.
In truth, apart from a certain glutton standing beside Draco, the most popular items among wizards were those connected to the two finalist teams. Articulated models of their star players, team crests and banners that could shift text—these were flying off the shelves.
Magical items meant for the match day sold even faster, especially the auto-tracking telescopes, which had quickly become a must-buy for every spectator. These were the kinds of items most wizards were willing to spend on without hesitation.
Of course, there were still a few who cared only about the food, but when it came to Astoria, her enthusiasm stood out more than most.
Draco, of course, was not surprised in the slightest.
Turning his head, he looked at the girl beside him—still licking her lips.
"Full?"
"Mmm... I can't eat anymore."
Astoria answered Draco's question without thinking, and only then realized what she had just done.
That unladylike behavior—if her sister saw it, she would definitely have something to say.
But the fleeting sense of embarrassment vanished quickly, because Astoria knew deep down that if the person beside her hadn't been Draco, she never would have acted this way.
After all, besides her own family, only Draco truly knew what she was like in private.
Draco gave her a curious look at her calm expression. "Not that there's anything wrong with it, but with the Greengrass family's status and wealth, it's not exactly hard for you to get this kind of food, is it?"
"True... but my schedule doesn't really allow me the time for that, and besides..."
Draco, distracted by a nearby bookstall, didn't notice the brief flicker of bitterness in Astoria's eyes—or the soft words she deliberately kept to herself.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. Come look at this—this book seems to cover the Irish team's history through the years."
"Not interested."
"Then what about this one? It's all about tricks for fouling without the referee catching you."
Just as Draco began to sense that something was off about her, a pair of familiar voices reached his ears.
...
"How much is this?"
"The tournament guide? I'm starting to understand why Harry and the others say what they do about you, Hermione."
"Harry? What did they say? I think I deserve to know, Ginny."
"Uh... they just said you don't really know how to relax, and... something about you and that Malfoy..."
Hermione and Ginny, engrossed in their conversation, didn't notice Draco approaching behind them—nor did they realize that he had heard every word they'd said.
"The Malfoy you mentioned—were you talking about me?"
"Draco?"
"Huh?! Why are you here?"
Hermione's expression shifted from surprise to delight, while Ginny's eyes instantly sharpened with suspicion.
Draco raised an eyebrow at their starkly different reactions. He didn't bother questioning Hermione's happiness, but as for the youngest Weasley, he had never understood where her hostility came from.
He was sure he hadn't done anything to her.
Was it because of her brothers...?
...
Just as Hermione took a step forward to speak, Ginny grabbed her hand.
"Ginny?"
"Malfoy... you've been following us, haven't you? I knew it—you must be up to something with Hermione!"
"Wait, Ginny, what are you talking about? What 'something'?"
Hearing Ginny's accusation, Hermione frantically waved her hands in protest, leaving Ginny twitching in frustration.
She was talking about him stalking them—how did Hermione completely miss the point? The look Ginny gave Draco grew darker by the second, as if he had already tricked her friend somehow.
But in reality, aside from saving Hermione a few times, Draco had done nothing unusual—certainly nothing deceitful. If anything, it was Hermione, who had once used Polyjuice Potion, who might be accused of deception...
Perhaps realizing it wasn't proper to badmouth someone in public, Ginny lowered her voice.
"Anyway, Harry and the others told me to stay away from the Malfoys. They said your family can't be trusted."
"Harry? Why would he say something like that about Draco?"
"Oh, that's not the point."
"Actually, that is the point!"
"I—"
Completely unprepared for Hermione's sharp reaction, Ginny looked flustered. Still, deep down, she truly believed that staying away from the Malfoys was the right thing to do.
After all, it wasn't just Harry who'd said so—even her brothers agreed.
"Have you forgotten who saved Ron from the Basilisk? ...Well, it wasn't exactly a Basilisk—it was the Dark—"
"Hermione, this isn't the place to talk about that."
"Hmm... alright, if you say so, Draco."
Ginny's lips parted, but no sound came out. First she'd been stunned by Hermione's words, then by how obediently her best friend had fallen silent.
Was this really the same proud, strong-willed Hermione Granger she knew?
In her surprise, Ginny suddenly understood the position Draco Malfoy held in Hermione's heart—much like the one Harry Potter held in hers.
Watching Draco move off to browse through nearby merchandise, then glancing at Ginny's dazed expression, Hermione finally softened her tone.
"Anyway, Ginny, please don't badmouth Draco around me anymore. I don't like it."
Ginny opened her mouth, ready to argue, but one look at Hermione's serious face made her sigh.
"But... fine, I get it. I just thought Ron might've had a chance..."
"Hm? Did you say something?"
"No, nothing. Just... a bit of a shame, that's all."
Hermione blinked, puzzled, but didn't think much of it. She simply turned and headed toward Draco.
Watching her light, cheerful steps, Ginny clenched her fists and followed close behind.
She couldn't stop it for now—but sooner or later, Draco Malfoy's "true colors" would come to light.
All she had to do was watch closely...
...
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