Ch 170
"What are you doing on the bed?" Malfoy's voice rang in Pansy's ears.
"Of course it's…" Pansy subconsciously wanted to answer, but she realized that instead of the faint smell of blood she had imagined, there was a sweet fragrance.
She hurriedly opened her eyes and saw that Malfoy had returned to the chair opposite her. He was holding the delicate glass bottle filled with pink potion and examining it carefully. He even shook it a few times before muttering to himself, "It's really an aphrodisiac."
Pansy immediately reached into her pocket subconsciously. Without a doubt, the bottle in Malfoy's hand was made by her.
"You can't even tell the effects of your own potion? An aphrodisiac. It's not a crude one. Of course, in some ways its nature is worse than the latter," Malfoy said coldly, his eyes as clear as ever.
"You… have you regained your consciousness, Draco?" Pansy stammered. She lowered her head again, not daring to look into Malfoy's eyes. Then she realized that the apple pie she had just made had fallen to the ground.
"I'll confiscate the tools of the crime first," Malfoy said indifferently. He did not directly answer Pansy's question. "Now tell me — how did you learn to make this potion? Aphrodisiacs are prohibited at Hogwarts. Even if such information exists, it would only be in books from the Restricted Section. Otherwise, you must have brought it from home. If that's the case, I'll have to consider informing your father."
"It's not from my house. Don't tell my father. I'll tell you everything," Pansy replied in a flustered voice, her tone trembling. She then told Malfoy everything she had done without holding anything back. "Surviving a disaster" made her emotions fluctuate wildly, and for a moment she was completely at a loss.
"I didn't expect our Head of House to miss such a good talent. Brewing an aphrodisiac in your third year. Perhaps one day, when you're sitting at the Gryffindor table, he'll award you an extra fifty points," Malfoy lightly "praised" Pansy.
This time, however, Pansy felt no happiness at all.
After that, Malfoy seemingly casually picked up a few brightly colored roses used as decorations on the table. He brought them to his nose and gently sniffed them.
"Now I know what those things you bought were." Malfoy showed a look of sudden realization. Then he pretended to be confused and said, "Rose thorns? At the time, I was wondering why you bought those."
"You saw it back then?" Pansy lowered her head even further and asked in a voice as soft as a mosquito.
"But only one," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Otherwise, I might have guessed what you were planning."
"There's more," Malfoy added. "Next time you want to make an aphrodisiac, remember to replace the rose thorns with rose petals."
He tossed the roses in his hand onto the table in front of Pansy.
"Why? The book says you can use both!" Pansy subconsciously raised her head and asked hurriedly, forgetting that she was currently being reprimanded.
"A rose-thorn aphrodisiac isn't very stable, and the effect doesn't last long," Malfoy said meaningfully as he looked at her.
Pansy shrank back in fear, as if trying to burrow into the chair. Her body trembled, and she asked with a flushed face, "Then… were you awake the whole time?"
"You can guess." Malfoy gave a half-smile and returned the question to her. Then the smile disappeared from his face.
There was a brief silence.
"Pansy, if you had succeeded, do you know what would have happened?" Malfoy asked coldly.
"I… I don't know," Pansy replied weakly. She had already realized the seriousness of the situation. This was not a mistake she could fix by acting cute or pretending to be pitiful.
She knew that Malfoy was usually indulgent toward her, but when it came to matters of principle, he would not be lenient.
"Using an aphrodisiac won't bring true love. It will only create temporary infatuation." Malfoy stared sternly at her. With every word he spoke, Pansy lowered her head further, as if she might crawl under the table.
"Raise your head!"
Malfoy showed no reaction to her evasiveness; instead, his tone grew harsher.
"Mm…" Pansy could only respond and slowly raised her head. Her eyes were clear and innocent, her expression on the verge of tears. Anyone unfamiliar with her might have believed she was sincerely repentant.
"I was wrong, Draco," she said pitifully.
"Do you think you can fool me this time?" Malfoy narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
"But you're fine, aren't you?" Pansy noticed his tone seemed slightly less cold and tried to argue.
"Right!" As if grasping a lifeline, she blushed and forced herself to act tough. "If you keep pursuing this, I'll tell Aunt Narcissa you bullied me!"
The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched, though he quickly returned to normal.
"I don't mind," he said calmly, standing up.
"Since you have no sincerity in admitting your mistake and even want to falsely accuse the victim, I don't mind turning your slander into reality." He stroked his chin and looked at her steadily.
The pressure from earlier returned, pressing heavily on Pansy's chest.
"I was just joking!" she said quickly, forcing a smile. Then she put on a submissive expression. "Draco, you can do whatever you want. I can't resist you anyway. Even if you want to continue what you were doing earlier, I don't mind."
She folded her hands in front of her chest, looking like a frightened rabbit, hoping to evoke sympathy.
"Are you sure?" Malfoy's gaze sharpened dangerously, as if a single nod from her would lead to something irreversible.
"I was wrong, Draco," Pansy finally said again, her expression changing rapidly.
"Are you serious this time?" he asked, locking eyes with her.
"Hm…" she answered weakly, dragging out the sound.
"In that case, you should be mentally prepared to accept your punishment." Malfoy tapped the table lightly with his index finger and shifted his attention away from her.
"Eat first. Otherwise, you won't have the strength to endure the punishment later."
He picked up his knife and fork, but then noticed that Pansy hadn't moved.
Looking up, he saw that she had collapsed onto the table, her head tilted to one side, her expression pained.
"Draco… my stomach hurts," Pansy said weakly. Her face was pale, and beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. Her small body curled up from the pain.
"If I find out you're pretending, the punishment will be doubled," Malfoy said after staring at her for a few seconds. Then he sighed helplessly and stood up.
He had no idea what kind of magic could make someone's act look this convincing.
Pansy herself had not expected things to turn out this way. Although she had prepared a way to fake illness, the Weasley twins' Skiving Snackboxes hadn't been invented yet.
There was only one conclusion.
It really was a coincidence.
In the end, Pansy could not escape the "bloody disaster" predicted by Professor Trelawney.
To be more precise — no girl could avoid it.