Sure enough, Hermione rushed over in a panic a moment later, this little Gryffindor lion cub who wanted to roar but had not even grown her claws yet, and she almost fell headfirst into his arms if he had not caught her arm in time.
Hermione was in a state of utter shock. She was truly shattered by this cruel reality. She simply could not believe that a professor who was supposed to care for his students would attack an innocent one!
But this had truly happened, there was evidence to support it, and it was irrefutable.
"Draco, I just saw it through the binoculars! Quirrell and Professor Snape... they are both muttering to themselves and staring intently at Harry... but I do not know who it is... who should I stop..." she said breathlessly.
Her brown eyes were blazing with rage, and her hands trembled as she gripped her vine wood wand tightly, seemingly ready to unleash a rather inaccurate curse on the professors' seats, or perhaps just a barrage of curses for an indiscriminate attack.
She is on the verge of tears, Draco thought. Clearly, her disoriented state is only making things worse.
"Hermione Granger, where is your sense? Calm down!" He placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders and held her firmly in place to prevent her from doing anything impulsive.
Hermione knew she was in terrible condition. Her hand holding the wand was shaky.
But he supported her, and there seemed to be some magical power in his calm and gentle pale grey eyes that gradually helped her to emerge from her intense anger and regain her rationality.
The area was bustling with noise, but Draco dared not speak too loudly, lest those around him notice what they were discussing. So, he tried to get as close as possible to Hermione's face, close enough to see her thick, trembling, bewildered eyelashes.
"Listen to me, the curse will stop as soon as we cut off eye contact. Listen to me, Hermione, snap out of it!" He frowned slightly and quickly told her his plan, "We need to split up. One of us must go and deal with Quirrell first. If that does not work, then we shall go and deal with Professor Snape on the other side. This is the only chance to distinguish good from evil, so please trust me."
The faint, refreshing scent approached Hermione, making her mind both confused and clear.
Hermione took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. The boy's hand on her shoulder acted as a stabilizer, reminding her that she was not alone in facing this.
He is here. He will help me.
He gripped her shoulders, utterly calm. He hammered the plan into her ears, word by word, with crystal clarity.
His approach was methodical and systematic. She understood the meaning behind his words.
Our goals are the same.
He wanted to use a simple time difference to find the culprit, a direct and efficient method, which, coincidentally, she also wanted to find, requiring their cooperation.
"You actually intend to target Professor Snape?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise at the impartial accusation in his words.
That is the Potions Master, whom no one dares to provoke, the imposing Head of Slytherin House, and the last person any Hogwarts student wants to offend.
No Slytherin would want to provoke Professor Snape, just as no Gryffindor would dare to challenge Professor McGonagall.
"Are you willing to go after Professor Snape?" she continued, wanting to make certain he was not joking.
"If necessary, I will," he said emotionlessly, his lips pressed into a resolute line.
This made Hermione feel somewhat more at ease.
We must finish this quickly. Hermione looked up uneasily, glancing at Harry in the air. He seemed to be hanging precariously, clinging to a wildly vibrating broom with only one hand.
At that moment, almost all the students in the stands stood up, watching the commotion in the sky with horror. The Weasley twins flew up, attempting to pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but to no avail. Every time they got close to him, the broomstick would suddenly shoot higher.
So the two brothers fell back slightly and circled below Harry, clearly attempting to catch him if he fell.
We must take immediate action! Hermione thought urgently.
"I shall go first, I shall deal with Quirrell!" she whispered in his ear.
Without any hesitation, she made a decisive move, rushing toward the aisle behind Quirrell, pretending to squeeze through, but actually kicking Quirrell hard in the back, causing him to fall headfirst into the front row seat.
At the same time, a suspicious cluster of blue flames silently sprang from her wand, setting fire to the hem of Quirrell's robes.
Ten seconds later, Quirrell, with his robes aflame, dashed out of the stands and fled toward the stands below.
On the other side of the stands, Professor Snape stared intently at Harry, muttering to himself. Hermione ran to Draco's side, clutching his robes with one hand, still nervous and uneasy about having just attacked a professor.
"How is it? Is it done?" Hermione asked anxiously to the composed boy, who was holding up his binoculars to search for the figure in the sky.
She had not brought her binoculars. In her haste to get there, she had left them in the Gryffindor stands for Ron and the others to use. Meanwhile, Harry's broom had flown far enough away from the stands that she could only make out blurry figures with the naked eye.
"He has already climbed back onto the broom. Do you want to see?" Draco asked casually, his face showing an expression of having known all along.
"Yes!" she said eagerly.
He truly goes to great lengths for his special friend.
He pursed his lips, preparing to take off the binoculars hanging around his neck and hand them to her, but she was in a hurry and whoosh, she slipped between his arms and looked through the binoculars using his raised arm.
"Thank you!" she said impatiently, completely disregarding Draco's feelings as he held up the binoculars for her, practically enveloped by him.
It is a novel feeling. Hermione Granger has actually nestled into my space and is looking through my binoculars!
Draco thought with utter astonishment.
This would have been absolutely unimaginable in my previous life.
However, in this life, she always seems to challenge my imagination with her actions.
She becomes increasingly audacious and reckless, yet always remains naive and willful.
She is completely unsuspecting of me, simply blocking my view with her small head covered in thick brown hair. Her hair is warm, and a few strands seem to be defying me, tickling my cheek.
She even... she takes it for granted that I will hold the binoculars for her!
Merlin above, I am the young master of the Malfoy family. Who would dare to trouble my noble hand?
Does she realize this?
And last time, in the restricted corridor on the fourth floor, she casually rested her head on my shoulder!
Does she ever consider whether what she is doing is reasonable or not?
Does she ever care about his feelings?
Clearly, Hermione was oblivious to the turmoil the boy behind her was experiencing. Her entire focus was on her friend Harry. When she finally saw through the binoculars that Harry was safely on his broomstick, a genuine smile of relief spread across her worried face.
Now I can finally relax.
Immediately following was a surge of anger.
Draco was right. Professor Snape was the one who helped Harry, not the one who cast the curse.
The real villain is Quirrell, that stammering, seemingly honest person! He does not deserve to be called a professor!
Hermione thought indignantly as she casually held Draco's hand, attempting to adjust the angle of the binoculars to follow Harry's movements.
She was still very worried about Harry, and kept her eyes glued to the small figure in the binoculars, fearing that something might happen to him again.
She completely ignored the boy's silence and stiffness behind her.
Suddenly, people saw the young Seeker of Gryffindor dart rapidly toward the ground, then cover his mouth as though he were about to be sick.
Something golden fell from Harry's mouth into his hand. He had caught the Golden Snitch.
"That is wonderful!" Hermione said, her eyes brimming with tears.
She turned around and happily and tightly hugged the silent boy behind her.
Draco's pupils dilated slightly, revealing an unexpected emotion.
Amid cheers from near and far, she was embracing him tightly.
It seems that her vibrant and unrestrained charm has seeped into my stiff and cold body.
She... is practically testing my limits... Her sudden hug leaves me bewildered... She seems to truly enjoy being close to me... She does not dislike me at all... and is not afraid of my cold, aloof face.
How could she hug me like that? How could she? My insides seem to be twisting in a knot, or perhaps screaming wildly.
Suddenly, his long dormant heart seemed to start beating again for some reason.
It was a very light, shallow thud.
Perhaps it is not a throbbing, but rather a bird that has flown past my heart and left a delicate feather on it.
Light feathers, so light they seem like an illusion.
"Thank you, Draco! We won!" She quickly let go of him and smiled at him with joy.
He remained silent, his grey eyes staring blankly at her.
What could I say to her? My mind is in turmoil.
My frozen heart should not have been beating.
At this moment, things are getting somewhat out of control.
Hermione found his stiff expression odd. Harry is out of danger and has retrieved the Golden Snitch, so why is he not smiling?
She looked around and suddenly realized that she was very close to the Slytherin stands. Her gold and red scarf stood out conspicuously against the backdrop of the silver green crowd.
He must be very disappointed, because Slytherin lost, she thought anxiously.
"Oh, I am sorry! I must go back now!" Hermione said.
Before his cold lips could utter any sarcastic words, she glanced at his unfamiliar and questioning grey eyes and hurriedly fled.
So she did not see his eyes suddenly soften, nor did she see the glimmer of light that suddenly appeared in them.
"Congratulations..." Draco said softly to the increasingly distant, lively figure, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
Please don't think about it anymore. She has already gone.
Think of something else, Draco said to himself, gazing at the bright brown hair.
Think of Potter's safety, think of Snape's name being temporarily cleared, and think of Slytherin's loss in Quidditch.
Slytherin's House Cup is in serious trouble this year...
Potter got lucky! Swallowing it in his mouth, what sort of catching of the Golden Snitch is that? He thought indignantly.
Draco always loved Quidditch. He loved the feeling of soaring freely through the skies.
He had once given up several Quidditch matches to complete the Dark Lord's daunting task, a decision he always regretted. At that time, personal hobbies paled in comparison to matters of life and death.
Whether in his past life or this one, he had always envied Potter's smooth sailing in everything.
What an honor it would be to represent the House in matches! How could I not stop thinking about this?
He once thought he would never be moved again.
He once thought he could treat everything with indifference.
However...
Draco's indifferent grey eyes turned back to the jubilant crowd, and he suddenly realized that the cheers no longer only made him feel loneliness.
For some reason, his long dormant heart stirred anew on this side of the stadium.
My heart seems to suddenly awaken.
It trembles slightly, and feels a faint itch. Could it be because some unseen feather has touched or stirred it?
In a fleeting moment, he suddenly had a desire to represent Slytherin and have a fair match with Potter again.
If I win, will people cheer, jump for joy, and be happy for me?
Just like Hermione was happy for Harry's victory today will she will be happy for him too?
He kept a straight face, but could not help thinking.