Draco had not planned to attend that Quidditch match.
Since his rebirth, he had gradually realized that no noisy occasions could move his withered heart. They could only bring him endless desolation.
The excitement and laughter at this moment brought him no joy whatsoever. Instead, they constantly reminded him of the cruelty and horror of the Battle of Hogwarts.
Sometimes, he would look at some of the students in the school who were smiling brightly with a lost look in his lifeless eyes.
Their smiles were everywhere, on the dining tables, in the corridors, and in the classrooms.
Occasionally, he would encounter people whose happiness was almost blinding.
Would you not be so naive as to think that Draco Malfoy would be infected by these smiles and gain some genuine joy?
No, I will not.
All I can picture is them lying in the ruins, their faces blank and their eyes lifeless.
I can only think of death as something so easy, of the fragility of life and the unpredictability of the world.
I am even afraid of images of withering vegetation, the falling of oak leaves, the decay of flowers, the drying up of bushes.
I am often afraid of the extinguished candle, the mournful wind in the sky, and the darkness of the night.
I fear the smiles of the innocent.
When he learned that some people were destined to die, he found it difficult to treat them with a normal heart, and he also found it difficult to want to contact them anymore. Their ignorant smiles at this moment seemed so shocking.
Draco Malfoy is powerless to do anything about it.
I am cowardly, I am timid, I am selfish.
I can barely take care of myself, so how can I save others? I cannot be responsible for anyone. I am afraid I cannot save them.
I fear even more the harm and pain that the deceased would cause to the living after their passing, so I choose not to get close.
Perhaps in this way, when those people withered away in the world, he could maintain his inner calm and indifference, and he could suffer less torment.
For some, I am the harm itself.
Maintaining a safe distance might be the best way to protect her, Draco thought wearily.
But he came anyway, standing reluctantly in the Quidditch stands. I already know how the match will end. Slytherin will lose miserably. What is there to see?
There was no simple way to change Slytherin's crushing defeat to Gryffindor. The only thing that seemed possible was to ignore it and attempt to avoid the trouble.
But he had to go. This was a golden opportunity to prove to the Potters that Quirrell was the problem.
Ever since they discussed Quirrell's strange behavior in the library, a seed of suspicion had been planted in Hermione's mind, but this was only speculation, without concrete evidence, and she remained somewhat skeptical.
Draco needed to add fuel to the fire to make her completely believe it.
Hermione Granger had always been difficult to persuade. But if she was persuaded, she became the most tireless person in the world, and she would do everything in her power to convince those two reckless and arrogant boys, Potter and Weasley.
In her past life, she had been like this, using her extensive knowledge and awe inspiring idealism to guide the fortunate Potter step by step out of danger and onto the right path.
As the brains of the Potter trio, she excelled at thinking and was also an excellent puzzle solver.
As for Potter and Weasley, they always habitually overlooked her intelligence and took her wisdom for granted.
Thinking of this, Draco shook his head slightly, secretly lamenting the extreme waste of her personal talent.
Her brilliance should have been seen by more people, but people always felt that those adventurous achievements were entirely Potter's doing.
Most people would feel jealous and resentful because of this, but she said she did not care.
How could someone like her exist? In my past life, I always had doubts about her.
The one and only Hermione Granger always cared more about the safety of her friends than about her own glory, specifically, the safety of Potter.
Just as in his previous life, about five minutes into the game, Potter's broom went out of control.
From the moment Potter's broom began to tremble unusually, Draco stood up as though no one else was there, strolled leisurely, and quietly left the stands, heading straight to the back of the stands where Quirrell and Professor Snape were.
There, he raised the binoculars hanging around his neck to observe Potter in the sky, while quietly waiting for the figure of the petite girl wearing a Gryffindor scarf.
She will come.
In his past life, he had seen what she did, running behind Professor Snape and setting fire to his robes, and strangely, he had not complained to Professor Snape. Instead, he thought she was very bold.
Not everyone dared to provoke the Slytherin Potions Master. It was unclear whether she was ignorant or fearless.
At that time, after she finished the deed, she sneaked away along that row of seats, like a squirrel that had stolen someone else's fruit.
He had inexplicably burst out laughing. Crabbe and Goyle asked him if he was laughing at Potter, who was teetering in the sky. His gaze followed the figure of the girl with the gold and red scarf, and he said lazily, "Yes, is it not funny? He cannot even hold his broomstick steady."
She will definitely come back whenever Potter is in danger, Draco thought with certainty and.... jealousy?