After Herbology class ended on Tuesday afternoon, Draco looked around the greenhouse several times before finding Hermione. She was standing near a huge umbrella flower, talking to Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, looking quite smug from her profile.
"Hermione," he said, hurrying over to her, "I need your help."
She turned her head, half of the anger on her face disappeared, and her eyes curved slightly. "Wait! Wait for me where you are, do not come over."
Draco was bewildered, but he still stood there blankly beside the pillar supporting the greenhouse, staring at her in a daze. She was carrying several thick books, with a serious expression on her face. She said a few words to them hurriedly, then strode towards him.
"What happened? Are they bullying you?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her face.
"Oh, quite the opposite," Hermione said nonchalantly. "I am teaching Ernie not to parrot what others say. You know, he does not mean any harm, he is just a chatterbox. Susan says he has an overactive imagination, and I completely agree. He always jumps to conclusions, and he can come up with a hundred different versions of a single story."
Draco glanced at her silently, and seeing that she seemed to be in a good mood, he did not ask any more questions.
"Draco, what did you just ask me to do for you?" Hermione asked, as they slowly walked out of the greenhouse where few students remained.
"Go ask Hagrid for me," Draco said. "Ask him everything about Tom Marvolo Riddle. Since Hagrid knows him, he should know who he is, if he has any other names, and what he is doing now, right?"
"You can ask, but I really do not understand why you do not ask yourself," Hermione said helplessly, preoccupied with her half-finished Herbology homework.
"Hagrid is not honest with everyone. He is only really patient and honest with the three of you... In his eyes, I am probably just an unlikeable Slytherin, a little brat from a Dark wizard's family, always scheming a bunch of bad ideas," Draco said lazily as he led her through the vegetable garden.
Hermione disagreed. "You are underestimating Hagrid. He is a very generous man. He will like you—if he knew what you were doing behind the scenes. But you always tell us to keep it a secret."
"I only did a tiny, insignificant thing, nothing to brag about," Draco said casually.
Draco did not want to have too much to do with Hagrid.
Every time he saw Hagrid, he was reminded of how he had deliberately targeted Hagrid in his past life. Even if he gave up targeting Hagrid in this life, he admitted that he and Hagrid really did not have much in common. He never approved of Hagrid's fascination with certain dangerous animals.
Every time he saw Hagrid's cabin, he was reminded of the towering fire that had engulfed it on the night Dumbledore fell. Just like Draco's life, it had been reduced to ashes and left in ruins.
He did not want to remember such a terrible version of himself. Nor did he want to needlessly approach these suffocating images. The fact that he could numb his memories with Occlumency did not mean he would not be hurt again when yesterday reappeared.
In fact, anything or anyone that can trigger his memories of yesterday will make him feel hurt.
"All right." Hermione adjusted the books in her arms again, glanced at him, and said, "Actually, I am a little curious too. Shall I go by myself? Where will you wait for me?"
"Give it to me," Draco said, taking the stack of books from her and casually sitting on a large rock beside the path leading to Hagrid's cabin. "I will wait for you here. I am not going anywhere else."
And so, he watched her go, watched this girl who could hurt him at any moment, watched her walk away from him.
Hermione was clearly unaware of her own harmful and destructive potential. She had no intention of hurting him whatsoever. She glanced at him, smiled, and happily continued down the path.
Her small figure was bathed in the warm red hue of the sunset. He stared at her intently, regardless of whether her appearance would burn his light-coloured eyes.
The girl walked further and further away. He put the book on the stone, stood up worriedly, and gazed at her receding figure. Later, she knocked on Hagrid's door, nimbly slipped into Hagrid's cabin, and hopped into the oak tree's giant hole like a little squirrel.
He could no longer see her. But he did not want to just sit there peacefully, so he paced back and forth in front of the boulder.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Just last night, as Astronomy class ended, Draco stood atop the windswept tower and suddenly remembered something. He recalled hearing a similar name somewhere before.
Also located in a tall tower, a tower comparable in height to the Astronomy Tower—the Ravenclaw Tower.
That night, amidst the howling wind, the Grey Lady told him about the Ravenclaw diadem. In her excitement, she even mocked the Dark Lord:
"The Dark Lord? Ha! That self-aggrandising title makes me want to vomit! Fifty years ago, he was not called the Dark Lord; he made me call him Tom. Back then, he was just an ordinary student. Somewhat handsome, compassionate, and very understanding..."
Tom. T.M. Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, who may be the "Tom" that the Grey Lady mentioned, is the Dark Lord and also a descendant of Slytherin!
This conjecture shocked him to the extreme.
All the coincidences seemed both too incredible and too obvious.
The Dark Lord possesses profound magical power and reveres pure-bloodedness; no one is more "Slytherin" than him.
Draco knew he might have stumbled upon the truth.
Out of caution, he needed more evidence to verify his hypothesis.
Hagrid is a key witness. Since he was exposed—or rather, framed—by the young Tom Riddle, he must know more about Tom Riddle.
In just a few quarters of an hour, the girl's small figure ran out of the door of Hagrid's cabin and rushed towards him along the path.
He could not see her expression, only her brown hair shimmering in the crimson sunset. She was running towards him with all her might, getting closer and closer, until Draco could see her face. She was panting, pale, and her large brown eyes were filled with fear.
"Draco, we have to get that damned diary to Professor Dumbledore right now!" she shrieked as soon as she saw Draco. "It could very well be Voldemort's diary!"
Sure enough—this wretched diary!