Ch: 86-94
Chapter 86: Give Me a Dozen People Like Ron
As Professor Sprout finished speaking, the system notification sounded in Draco's mind.
[Ding—Original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
This could be considered a bit of a consolation.
"What?!"
Ron's voice suddenly rose in pitch.
Upon hearing Professor Sprout actually asking Draco to give a demonstration, he suddenly became energized.
Ron pointed at Draco and said in a mocking tone, "Him?! He's doing the demonstration?! He didn't even bring his book! He thinks he can learn it just by pretending to look at it for a few seconds? Professor, are you joking?"
"Mr. Weasley!" Professor Sprout's voice suddenly turned cold, carrying a clear warning and displeasure.
"In my class, I will not allow such a questioning attitude toward your classmates! Especially before he has even begun his demonstration!"
Ron was intimidated by the Professor's authority and shut his mouth resentfully.
But his eyes still glared at Draco unwillingly, the fire of anger in them almost bursting forth.
A calm smile played on the corner of Draco's mouth as his gaze swept indifferently over Ron.
"Whether it works or not isn't decided by talking. Just because you brought a book doesn't mean you're capable."
With that, he turned to Professor Sprout and said sincerely, "Very well, Professor. I will do my best to demonstrate."
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy." A gentle smile bloomed on Professor Sprout's face once again.
"In Herbology, and indeed in all studies at Hogwarts, we look not only at your technique but also at your attitude.
"What we need is exactly the kind of spirit Mr. Malfoy is showing: focusing on the task at hand, striving for the best, and letting your actions and results speak for themselves, rather than engaging in pointless arguments and preconceived prejudices."
These words were undoubtedly a reprimand for Ron's previous behavior.
Ron felt a burning pain in his face, feeling extremely embarrassed for a moment.
But he remained stubborn, secretly tugging on Harry's sleeve and saying through gritted teeth, "I bet he'll either tear the leaf to shreds, fail to squeeze out any juice, or just be so clumsy he makes a fool of himself!"
As Ron made his bet, Draco put down his tools and walked with steady steps toward the Professor's workbench.
Under the gaze of the Young Wizards, Draco stood before the workbench, his eyes falling on the sturdy pot of white dittany.
Within seconds, he began his operation.
The entire sequence of movements was smooth and seamless, as standard as a textbook example.
Seeing such a standard technique, the Young Wizards couldn't help but gasp, letting out bursts of exclamation.
The originally skeptical gazes instantly turned into wonder and admiration.
"Wow... that technique is so steady!"
"Amazing! He really took it off, and the plant didn't even move!"
"Heavens, how did he do that? Gosh, he hasn't been practicing in secret, has he?"
"This seems even more precise than the Professor's demonstration!"
The appreciation on Professor Sprout's face had already turned into unconcealed joy and pride.
Ron stood where he was, feeling a strong wave of dizziness and ringing in his ears, as if the whole world were mocking his foolish prediction from moments ago.
Fast and standard, Draco soon achieved a perfect operation.
This was undoubtedly another harsh slap in the face for Ron.
After finishing, Draco put down his tweezers, his gaze falling gently on the white dittany as he asked softly, "I hope I didn't hurt the little dittany doctor?"
[Ding—Original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
Professor Sprout's eyes suddenly lit up the moment she heard those words.
She stepped forward excitedly, her voice full of irrepressible joy: "Well said! Perfect, simply perfect!"
With that, she stepped forward quickly, not looking at the perfect drop of juice first, but instead carefully examining the white dittany plant after Draco had removed the leaf.
Seeing that the plant had barely moved, the cut was smooth, and the juice was condensing normally, the admiration in her eyes deepened.
"It's not just the perfect operation, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Sprout said, turning to face the whole class.
"Mr. Malfoy's sentiment! Do you see it? He isn't just 'using' it; he is 'treating' it like a true partner! This is the essence of Herbology! It is the foundation of our study of this subject!"
Having said that, she looked back at Draco: "Ten points to Gryffindor! For your impeccable technique, and even more so for your precious heart that resonates with plants!"
Then she looked at the Young Wizards and added:
"I hope every one of you can remember that what Mr. Malfoy demonstrated today was not just precise technique, but an attitude of respecting life and having a kind heart! This is more important than any knowledge!"
Draco bowed slightly and said modestly, "Thank you, Professor. I'll leave the time for the other Young Wizards then. I'll head back down now."
A hint of amazement appeared in Professor Sprout's eyes; she clearly hadn't expected Draco not only to perform perfectly but also to be so considerate in his exit remarks.
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy, very thoughtful of you." She nodded approvingly at Draco. "Please return to your place."
If Draco's perfect operation was a loud slap in the face for Ron...
...then Professor Sprout's words were equivalent to following that slap by writing the word 'clown' on his face in the most elegant manner.
Ron didn't even have the courage to look at Draco, wishing only to find a hole in the ground to crawl into, silently praying that Draco wouldn't look his way.
In fact, Draco really didn't care about him.
In Draco's view, Ron was more like a tool person to help him earn luck value; he would even welcome a few more such 'opponents.'
Lavender and Parvati stood in the crowd, their eyes full of stars.
"Wow... he even thought of that, caring if the white dittany was hurt..."
"He said 'little doctor,' just like the Professor did... that's so sweet!"
"Not only is his technique good, but his emotional intelligence is also high. He's just too outstanding!"
The two of them praised him once more.
Hermione watched Draco's figure as he calmly stepped down, and hearing his incredibly appropriate words, the turmoil in her heart grew even more intense.
This was no longer just a competition of skills; it was a total suppression in terms of grace, emotional intelligence, and situational response.
"How... how can he be so... calm? So... appropriate?"
In Hermione's heart, unwillingness was intertwined with a hint of unspeakable admiration.
She pursed her lips tighter, trying to hide her emotions, but her gaze could not pull away from Draco.
Draco's gaze happened to meet Hermione's.
He gave her a slight nod, a faint smile in his eyes.
Hermione blinked rapidly several times, as if dazzled by sunlight, her heart trembling.
She then quickly lowered her head, pretending to focus intently on the tools and plants in front of her, but the tips of her ears uncontrollably flushed a thin red, spreading all the way down to her neck.
She could feel her heart beating rapidly and irregularly in her chest, as if it were about to jump out of her throat.
That brief eye contact and that ambiguous nod just now were like a tiny electric current, instantly flashing through her nerves.
It left her feeling a strange sense of irritation, along with a hint of panic she was unwilling to admit even to herself.
Chapter 87: The Little Lions' Change of Heart
After Draco returned to his spot, Professor Sprout's gaze swept across the eager young faces before her, and she said:
"Alright, young gentlemen and ladies, I believe Mr. Malfoy has set a wonderful tone for today's lesson with his actions and words."
"Skilled technique, sufficient patience, and most importantly, respect for the plants."
"Now, I hope each of you will carry this understanding as you continue your 'first close encounter'."
As she finished speaking, the Young Wizards picked up their tools and began their practical work.
A rustling sound immediately filled the greenhouse.
There was the light clinking of tweezers hitting glass slides, the faint tearing sound of leaves being accidentally ripped, and the low murmurs of students' discussions.
Professor Sprout clasped her hands behind her back and began to patrol between the workbenches.
Before her rounds, she specifically walked over to Draco and said, "Mr. Malfoy, your technique is outstanding, and your understanding of herbs far exceeds that of most."
"Would you please help the students who are struggling, if you don't mind?"
Draco nodded slightly. "Of course, Professor, I will do my best."
Receiving Draco's reply, Professor Sprout nodded with satisfaction and turned toward the other students' workbenches.
Meanwhile, Draco carried his tools and began walking slowly through the greenhouse, his gaze falling on the students who were clumsy or looking troubled.
Soon, he reached Neville's workbench.
At this moment, Neville was sweating profusely, his face flushed red, and the tweezers in his hand were trembling slightly.
With a soft "hiss," he clumsily tore another leaf of white dittany. The tear was jagged, and juice splattered everywhere.
Neville's face was full of frustration, and his eyes even shimmered with tears; he was clearly on the verge of losing confidence.
Draco didn't say a word. He simply stepped forward and used the tip of his tweezers to lightly tap a point on Neville's wrist where he was holding too much tension.
"Relax here. Imagine the strength is flowing through, not crashing down. white dittany is delicate; it needs finesse, not brute force."
Neville jumped, nearly dropping the tweezers.
He looked up sharply. Seeing it was Draco, a flicker of panic crossed his round face, followed immediately by an instinctive trust in the expert.
He stammered, "Th-thank you... M-Malfoy..."
"Neville, we're roommates now. Just call me Draco. No need to be so formal; if you have any questions, just ask me," Draco said with a smile.
Hearing this, Neville's eyes instantly lit up, his heart filled with emotion.
He had never imagined that someone so brilliant, highly praised by the Professor, would be willing to help a clumsy guy like him and even let him use his first name.
He nodded vigorously. "O-okay! D-Draco! Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Then, Neville focused his mind like never before, his eyes fixed on Draco, afraid to miss a single detail.
"Th-then I'll try again! Please... Draco, please watch me! I won't let you down!"
Draco nodded and stood aside, watching his movements with focused attention.
Under Draco's guidance, Neville's performance improved visibly to the naked eye.
His wrist was no longer as stiff and trembling as before, and his movements became slow and steady.
Although he was still somewhat clumsy, the impatience and panic had vanished.
Finally, after another attempt, the tweezers in Neville's hand gave a light flick, and a largely intact leaf was successfully removed.
Although the tear on the leaf wasn't perfectly smooth, it was much neater.
He carefully placed the leaf on the glass slide and gently crushed it with the tweezers; a drop of fairly clear juice slowly spread across the glass.
Neville's eyes widened instantly. He looked up sharply at Draco, a slightly silly but deeply grateful smile blooming on his face.
He shouted excitedly, "I-I did it! Draco, look! I succeeded! I really succeeded!"
Seeing him look as if he might cry for joy, a gentle smile appeared on Draco's face.
"Well done, Neville. You've picked up the knack so quickly. Keep at it, and you'll do even better."
Neville grinned, a nearly foolish but incredibly bright smile, completely forgetting his previous tension and clumsiness.
He nodded forcefully. "I-I will! Thank you... Draco!"
[Ding—original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
Not far away, Ron watched this scene with a face full of disdain.
He said sarcastically, "Look at him, starting to buy people's favor. Longbottom is such a pushover... just a little favor and he's got Longbottom eating out of his hand."
Unlike Ron's sarcasm, Professor Sprout happened to see this scene from nearby.
A more gratified and appreciative smile appeared on her face, her eyes shining with approval for Draco.
Clearly, Draco's ability to not only perform excellently himself but also patiently guide his classmates increased her favorable impression of him even more.
Just then, a boisterous voice rang out, breaking the warm atmosphere at Neville's workbench.
Seamus, holding a leaf he had torn into a mess, waved at Draco and requested, "Draco, come and teach me too!"
"My hands are practically at war with white dittany; I just can't get an intact leaf off!"
Draco turned around and nodded at Seamus. "Sure. No problem."
He walked over to Seamus's messy workbench, where Seamus was laughing self-deprecatingly, holding the leaf he'd mangled beyond recognition.
He said helplessly, "I think it might prefer exploding. Every time I try, it ends up like this."
Draco didn't laugh. He simply picked up the juice-stained tweezers from Seamus's hand and wiped them gently with a clean gauze.
Then he pointed out the problem.
"The tweezers must be clean, otherwise the residual juice will affect the next operation and might even irritate the white dittany. You're not using too much strength; you're just using the wrong focal point. You're always pushing and pulling with the strength of your arm, which makes it easy to tear the leaf."
As he spoke, he demonstrated a light flick of the wrist.
"Like this. Don't use your arm to push or pull. Think of it as 'flicking' with your wrist, like flicking dust off your robes."
"Oh! Like this?" Seamus's eyes lit up, and he immediately began to imitate the movement exaggeratedly.
His wrist shook as if he were throwing darts, the movement so large he nearly poked Dean beside him, drawing a few low chuckles from the surrounding students.
Even Hermione, who had been keeping a stiff face while focusing on her own work, saw her lips curl up almost imperceptibly.
Seeing this, Draco quickly reached out and gently gripped Seamus's wrist. "Stop. That's too much. It's not a 'throw,' it's a 'flick.' Slower, feel the sensation of the wrist generating the force."
He guided Seamus through two broken-down movements, explaining patiently as he did so.
"See, just like this. A light lift of the wrist, then a quick flick back. The force is only in the wrist; the arm stays steady."
"Now, try to get the feel for it in the air." Draco let go, signaling Seamus to practice on his own.
Seamus became unusually focused. He gestured in the air over and over, muttering to himself, "flicking dust... flicking dust... force in the wrist, arm stays still..."
After a moment, seeing Seamus's movements gradually become standard, Draco nodded and said, "Good. Pick a leaf. Focus only on the point where the leaf stalk meets the tip of the tweezers. Relax your wrist, and flick."
Seamus took a deep breath, carefully picked up the tweezers, and pressed the tip against the base of a white dittany leaf stalk.
He steadied himself and gave a light flick with a small, correct arc of his wrist.
"Click."
With a soft sound, an intact leaf was successfully removed.
The tear was neat and smooth, and the white dittany plant had barely shaken.
"merlins beard! I did it!" Seamus jumped up, holding the leaf high, his excited voice echoing through the greenhouse.
Then he looked excitedly at Draco. "Draco! Did you see that?! Intact! Not torn! I really did it!"
He turned excitedly to Dean beside him, then looked at Draco with admiration again. "You're a genius! The 'flicking dust' analogy worked perfectly! I understood it instantly!"
[Ding—original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
Seeing Seamus dancing with joy, Draco also showed a genuine smile.
He thought to himself: This luck value is quite easy to farm. Helping classmates, winning people over, and increasing luck value—it's truly killing multiple birds with one stone.
After his excitement cooled, Seamus immediately began to enthusiastically "pass on" the secret to the surrounding students.
He held up the leaf and said loudly, "Hey, did everyone hear that?"
"Draco said, when you take a leaf, it should be like flicking dust! Use the strength of your wrist, a light flick, and you can get an intact leaf!"
Ron stood nearby, his expression becoming even uglier as he watched, his annoyance growing stronger.
"Finnigan, that idiot, bought off by a little trick! He's clearly never seen anything of the world!" Ron's tone was full of jealousy and dissatisfaction.
The other students were absolutely shocked.
Seamus and Neville were either slow or terrible during practical work.
But now, they had both succeeded under Draco's guidance. This caused a strong desire to well up in their hearts; they also wanted Draco's pointers.
Dean looked enviously at the intact leaf in Seamus's hand, then said to Draco, "Alright, Draco, now it's my turn."
Draco nodded to him.
"I think my problem might be... I can never find the right spot to take the leaf. I'm always too close to the main vein."
As Dean spoke, many students who had been having trouble also crowded around, seeking Draco's help.
They looked at Draco's gentle smile and listened to his patient explanations.
The original prejudices and barriers in the hearts of the Gryffindor first-years gradually dissipated.
At this moment, they felt that Draco wasn't that difficult to get along with, and he truly was different from the rest of those Pure-blood families in Slytherin.
He lacked their arrogance and meanness, possessing instead a convincing gentleness and strength.
Draco patiently guided Dean as well, telling him how to accurately find the position slightly above where the lateral veins met and how to control the strength of his wrist.
Under Draco's guidance, Dean also successfully removed an intact leaf and squeezed out clear juice.
Following that, Draco helped several more students, all of whom successfully completed the operation under his guidance.
For a time, the greenhouse was filled with cheers and thanks, and everyone's gaze toward Draco was full of admiration and friendliness.
When no one else needed Draco's guidance, the atmosphere in the greenhouse became even more harmonious.
Draco slowly walked to Hermione's workbench. He stopped, maintaining a polite distance from her, not intruding rashly.
Hermione's movements stiffened for a moment.
The tweezers in her hand paused slightly, but she didn't look up, still focusing intently on the white dittany plant in front of her.
Listening to her slightly hurried breathing, a faint smile played on Draco's lips as he called out softly, "Hermione."
Hermione's eyelashes fluttered slightly.
And in that instant, her heart skipped a beat.
Chapter 88: Special Tutoring
For Draco, helping the Little Lions of Gryffindor was merely incidental.
Changing Hermione's opinion of him was the ultimate goal of this trip.
But Hermione was a sharp girl who tended to overthink, so Draco had to be cautious with every word and action.
His gaze fell upon Hermione's workstation, and he had already reached a conclusion in his mind.
Draco caught a glimpse of two leaves with slight damage on their edges lying beside her, and he thought she hadn't succeeded yet.
But looking at the sap on the glass slide, its clarity and fullness were excellent—far better than the results of the vast majority of students in the classroom.
Yet she continued to try, clearly setting extremely high standards for herself and wanting to complete this practical exercise even more perfectly.
"These drops of sap have excellent clarity and fullness; you've done a wonderful job of protecting the mesophyll cells," Draco first praised her sincerely.
He immediately followed up in a tone of equal discussion.
"I see you're trying different angles and points of force."
Hermione's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and her tense back eased slightly.
Clearly, Draco's words had not provoked any resentment from her.
Draco's gaze landed on the two slightly damaged leaves nearby, pinpointing the crux of her problem:
"However, I noticed you seem to be hesitating between a 'quick snap' and a'smooth peel'."
"I happen to be pondering this very issue myself," Draco said, changing the subject with a hint of confusion in his voice, as if he were exploring a difficult problem alongside her.
"Professor Sprout emphasized 'finesse,' but there doesn't seem to be a definitive conclusion on which method is more effective for petioles of a specific toughness."
Upon hearing this, the tension in Hermione's body loosened imperceptibly.
It seemed her interest had been piqued by Draco's words.
"I just discovered," Draco's voice grew softer,
"that if you use the tip of the tweezers to lightly 'tap' the junction of the petiole first, to feel the direction of the fibers and their resilience,"
His tone was like sharing an unverified hypothesis.
"and then decide whether to 'flick' or 'pry,' it seems easier to find that'sweet spot.' This is just my personal feeling, it might not be right, but... perhaps you could give it a try?"
As he spoke, he made a very light tapping motion in the air with his free left hand.
For the first time, Hermione turned her head, her bright brown eyes casting a quick glance at him.
She didn't speak, but silently picked up her tweezers and used the tip to lightly tap the petiole of a piece of white dittany she had selected.
She focused all her attention on feeling it.
A moment later, Hermione's wrist made a subtle and fluid prying motion, without the slightest hesitation.
"Click."
A nearly perfect leaf fell away at the sound.
She carefully placed the leaf on the glass slide and pressed it gently with the tweezers; the sap was perfectly squeezed out, clear, full, and flawless.
Hermione let out a very brief sigh of relief, and the tense lines of her face instantly softened.
Then she turned her head toward Draco again, her lips moving as if hesitating for a moment before finally saying, "...That makes sense."
Having said that, Hermione refocused on her task.
But her entire state had changed, shifting from her previous tense resistance to an efficient and calm focus.
Draco also nodded with satisfaction.
Then, without hesitation, he turned and walked away from her workstation with steady steps.
Leaving that space, which had returned to efficient focus, to her alone.
Draco knew that knowing when to stop was the best choice; staying too long would instead provoke her resentment.
The direction he was heading was exactly the path along which Professor Sprout was patrolling.
By this time, Professor Sprout had almost finished checking the results of the Hufflepuff students.
The cheers that had risen here and there in the Greenhouse had long since subsided, and most students had already successfully completed the task.
They were now holding their results and exchanging their experiences with one another.
Seeing Draco approaching, the smile on Professor Sprout's face grew even warmer.
"Mr. Malfoy," Professor Sprout spoke first as Draco drew near.
"I saw it just now—not only your patient guidance of Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Finnigan but also your... exchange with Miss Granger. You have done exceptionally well, far exceeding my expectations."
Draco stopped a step away from her and said, "Thank you for your affirmation, Professor."
"I only did what I thought I should do."
"Neville has a lot of potential; he just lacks confidence and needs a bit of encouragement and the right method."
"Seamus... is energetic and has an active mind, but as long as he finds the key points, he will progress very quickly."
As for Miss Granger," his gaze instinctively swept toward Hermione before he quickly looked away.
"She is very talented and sets extremely high standards for herself. I only shared a few observations that might be helpful to her. I am honored to have been of assistance."
The admiration in Professor Sprout's eyes deepened, and she patted Draco lightly on the shoulder.
Most students saw the Professor's gesture and felt it was only natural; after all, Draco's performance today was obvious to everyone.
Only Ron, standing not far away, watched this scene and muttered indignantly to Harry, "Humph, brown-nosing all the way into the Greenhouse! I really don't know how the Professor could be fooled by his sweet talk!"
After patting Draco's shoulder, Professor Sprout became serious:
"You have not only talent but also brains and a heart that understands others, Mr. Malfoy.
"Herbology, or indeed any true field of study, requires exactly such a combination."
"I am very glad to have seen this side of you today."
Finally, she lowered her voice slightly and invited him, "The doors to the Greenhouse are always open to you. If you feel curious about the other 'residents' here, or if you have any unique ideas, you can come to me anytime."
[Ding—original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
"It's my honor, Professor," Draco said.
Gaining Professor Sprout's favor was undoubtedly a great help to him.
Although the students didn't know exactly what the two were saying, seeing them talking in low voices with such a close demeanor shocked them all.
In their eyes, to receive such special treatment from a Professor, something extraordinary must have happened.
Professor Sprout smiled with satisfaction at Draco's reply.
She straightened up, resumed her stance facing the whole class, and clapped her hands to draw everyone's attention:
"Alright, dear students, everyone worked very hard today and had a good first encounter with white dittany!"
"That concludes our formal lesson for today," Professor Sprout announced.
"If any students are still curious about the other 'little residents' in the Greenhouse and aren't in a hurry to get to their next class..."
As she spoke, her smile grew brighter, and she enticed them with the excitement of sharing a secret.
"I would be very happy to take you for a quiet look at our new, somewhat shy Mimbulus Mimbletonia, or that 'Active Vine' that always wants to shake hands with people."
"Of course, those who wish to leave first may line up to depart; remember to watch the steps."
Professor Sprout pointed to the Greenhouse door and then to the side, saying:
"Those who want to stay and have a look, gather over here, but you must remain quiet so as not to frighten our shy new friend!"
Chapter 89: Making an Exception
Upon hearing Professor Sprout's announcement about offering extra tutoring, the students in the Greenhouse instantly split into two factions.
Among those who stayed, eight or nine out of ten were Young Wizards from Hufflepuff.
Hufflepuff students naturally had an innate fondness for Herbology, and with Professor Sprout being their Dean, who would dare to leave?
In contrast, most of the Gryffindor students had already slipped away, leaving only Neville, Hermione, and Olivia besides Draco.
Neville was genuinely obsessed with herbs, Olivia was driven by curiosity, and Hermione was clearly still struggling on the edge of whether to go or stay.
Draco inwardly sighed with a bitter smile; while others could leave freely, it seemed he couldn't.
Since that was the case, he might as well drag Hermione down with him.
Thinking this, he slowly walked over to Hermione, who was still struggling, maintaining a polite distance from her.
"Professor, if I may ask, hasn't Mimbulus Mimbletonia always been kept in Greenhouse Three?"
Draco raised his voice to ask his question in Professor Sprout's direction, but every word was clearly audible to Hermione.
Upon hearing this, Professor Sprout's eyes immediately flashed with a glimmer of approval.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy! You are absolutely correct."
She nodded with a smile, her gaze sweeping over the students whose faces now showed curiosity.
"According to Hogwarts' usual classification and management standards, Mimbulus Mimbletonia, considering its unique... um, 'way of expressing dissatisfaction,' is indeed carefully tended in a special isolation area of Greenhouse Three."
Professor Sprout used a tactful yet amusing description, successfully piquing the students' curiosity.
She paused briefly, giving the students time to digest this information while secretly observing their reactions.
Neville indeed swallowed nervously, but his eyes were full of anticipation.
Hermione's eyes instantly lit up astonishingly, as if she had discovered a new world, with her earlier struggle and hesitation completely gone.
And most of the other students also showed expressions of anticipation.
After observing, Professor Sprout continued, "Since we've brought it up today, and my brave little explorers have shown such curiosity beyond the classroom..."
Her gaze swept over Draco, Hermione, Neville, and others one by one, and every student she looked at couldn't help but straighten their backs.
"I think perhaps we can... make a small exception."
The Young Wizards who stayed opened their mouths wide; what had they heard? They could go to Greenhouse Three.
"However, I must declare in advance," before the Young Wizards could recover, Professor Sprout's tone suddenly became a bit more serious.
"The other 'residents' in Greenhouse Three are not as gentle as white dittany."
"Every plant there has its own unique habits, and some are even somewhat dangerous."
"We must maintain absolute quiet, follow closely behind me, and absolutely must not touch any plants without my permission, or even breathe heavily near them. Can you do that?"
Upon hearing this, Hermione and Neville immediately nodded eagerly, their faces filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
And the students all lowered their voices, promising to strictly follow the rules.
For first-year Young Wizards, being able to enter the somewhat risky Greenhouse Three was an honor they could boast about for a whole year.
For a moment, all the Young Wizards who stayed secretly congratulated themselves for not leaving, while also looking gratefully at Draco.
In their view, if not for Draco's performance, the Professor might not have thought of taking them to Greenhouse Three.
Olivia moved closer to Hermione and gently tugged her sleeve, "Hermione, that thing sounds... really quite magical. Should we stay and take a look?"
Hermione's gaze remained fixed on Professor Sprout, her inner struggle already vanished.
Her cheeks flushed with excitement, "...Yes, you're right. This is indeed a rare opportunity; let's stay."
Seeing Hermione no longer hesitating, Draco's lips curled almost imperceptibly.
Then, led by Professor Sprout, this "selected" exploration team, filled with awe and curiosity, carefully left Greenhouse One.
Along the corridor, they headed toward Greenhouse Three, filled with more mystery and danger.
Everyone held their breath, stepping lightly, afraid of disturbing the surrounding tranquility and ruining this hard-won opportunity.
When the students followed Professor Sprout tiptoeing into Greenhouse Three, the sight before them made them instantly hold their breath, not daring to make a sound.
The air here was more humid and warm than in Greenhouse One.
The air was also filled with the fragrance of soil, the freshness of vegetation, and the unique scent of some indescribable magic mixed together, invigorating the mind.
The light was also cleverly controlled; some areas were bright as day, suitable for light-loving plants to grow.
Some were shrouded in dim light simulating specific ecological environments, exuding a sense of mystery.
The plants varied in shape, some wriggling slowly as if alive.
Some emitted faint fluorescence, illuminating the surroundings like a dream.
Others were isolated by delicate magical barriers, clearly highly dangerous varieties.
Everything seemed more "vibrant" and more "dangerous," making one both yearn for it and dare not approach easily.
Professor Sprout stopped on a clearly marked path, slowly turned around, and faced the group of first-year students full of amazement.
"Alright, explorers, we're here. Remember our agreement: quiet, follow, observe only with your eyes and heart, and absolutely no unauthorized actions, understand?"
She emphasized again, her gaze sweeping over each person, ensuring everyone nodded in understanding before continuing.
Professor Sprout slowly turned sideways, extended her finger, and pointed to an area beside the path gently separated by a translucent, wave-like light curtain.
In that area grew several plants of various shapes, each exuding a somewhat peculiar aura.
"Now, it's time to test your observation and knowledge," Professor Sprout said softly.
"Without disturbing any 'residents,' carefully observe this area. Who can be the first to tell me..."
She deliberately paused, creating full suspense,
"Which one is the 'Mimbulus Mimbletonia' we came specifically to visit today? And what is the basis?"
Upon hearing this, the other students immediately looked curiously toward that area, frowning slightly as they fell into thought.
A few of the bolder ones couldn't help but whisper their opinions, but their voices were extremely low, almost inaudible.
Their gazes mostly involuntarily turned toward Hermione and Draco.
Presumably, the two of them would surely give the correct answer.
Chapter 90: Mimbulus Mimbletonia
After Professor Sprout finished asking her question, Hermione raised her hand almost subconsciously.
Professor Sprout immediately cast an encouraging look, nodding gently at her to indicate she could speak freely.
"Professor," Hermione's gaze landed precisely on an area behind the light screen, "I suspect it might be that plant growing beneath the Fluorescent Lichen, grey-green in color, with its leaves curled inward."
"Because'shyness' in plant behavior often manifests as avoiding or hiding from external stimuli. This plant's form and position both show an introverted tendency and a search for protection, which perfectly fits your description of a'shy resident'."
A brilliant smile instantly blossomed on Professor Sprout's face, her eyes full of admiration, and she was the first to clap for Hermione.
The applause was light, but it carried full affirmation.
"Excellent observation and logic, Miss Granger!" She gave clear praise first, then her gaze swept over the other students who were deep in thought.
"Miss Granger's train of thought precisely points out one possible external manifestation of'shyness'—restraint in form and concealment in position."
"This is indeed a survival strategy for many sensitive plants; knowing how to hide one's brilliance allows one to grow peacefully in complex environments."
After saying this, Professor Sprout stepped slightly to the side, allowing a clearer view so everyone could see the plant behind the light screen. "Now, what about the others? Did anyone notice different details or have different thoughts?"
Hearing this, Draco took half a step forward, his gaze passing over the plant Hermione had pointed out and landing on an inconspicuous clump of grey-green plant in the corner.
That thing looked wilted, out of place among the vibrant plants surrounding it.
"If I may share some humble opinions, Professor," Draco began with a touch of modesty.
Then he cleared his throat and pointed his finger toward the dusty, cactus-like thing in the corner that looked like it was about to die.
"It's that one."
"Look," Draco gestured for everyone to observe closely.
"It looks like an unwanted, wilted cactus. It's a dull grey color and covered in lumpy protrusions that look prickly to the touch, yet it has no energy at all, as if it would fall apart with a puff of wind."
Professor Sprout's gaze immediately followed, landing on that plant, and she nodded slightly to Draco, signaling him to continue.
In the crowd, a Hufflepuff student couldn't help but let out a "pfft" of a chuckle. Noticing the gazes around him, he quickly covered his mouth.
He explained in a low voice, "I just think... Classmate Malfoy's description was so vivid. It's exactly like that forgotten cactus at my house."
The other students also nodded one after another, looks of realization on their faces; clearly, they all thought Draco's description was spot on.
Draco stepped a little closer to the light screen, but always maintained a safe distance.
"Don't underestimate these lumps. To us, they look like uncomfortable thorns, but to it, they are its eyes and alarms, as well as its water gun switches."
A flash of inspiration instantly crossed Hermione's eyes as she subconsciously repeated Draco's words: "Eyes and alarms... water gun switches..."
As he spoke, he began to examine those unremarkable lumps from a completely new perspective.
Neville couldn't help but let out a low "Wow," his round face full of wonder as he whispered, "So cool... So there's actually so much to plant thorns."
The other students also showed expressions of sudden realization, their looks toward those lumps changing completely.
"This fellow holds a grudge." Draco's single sentence successfully piqued everyone's curiosity.
"If someone keeps bothering it the same way—like always poking it with the same rhythm or making a certain fixed noise next to it—it can remember."
"The next time it feels a similar movement, it starts quietly brewing 'bad water' inside."
"Under those lumps, the hidden Stinksap will slowly emerge, ready and waiting to give the offender a lesson."
Professor Sprout couldn't help but chime in softly, "Very accurate! This is a conditioned reflex based on pattern recognition, a unique skill it has developed for survival over a long period of evolution."
When Hermione heard the vivid terms "holding a grudge" and "brewing bad water," a look of great shock appeared on her face.
This personified and extremely direct explanation instantly made her understand how the abstract concept of "plant memory" operated within the Mimbulus Mimbletonia.
Low murmurs broke out in the crowd again.
"My god, has this little darling become a spirit? It actually holds grudges!"
"It really is too cunning, actually knowing how to play dead to trick people!"
"You can't blame it for being cunning; you need a few tricks to survive in this peril-filled Greenhouse," Olivia couldn't help but laugh.
"But it doesn't spray randomly," Draco said, changing the subject and emphasizing.
"It's very stingy. It's not easy to save up that 'bad water'; it's formed by consuming its own nutrients."
"Only when it feels it's truly doomed—like someone trying to pull it out of the pot or cutting its rhizome with a knife—will it be willing to'squirt' that hot, stinking sap all over your face.
"Normally, it just plays dead, pretending to be a useless, ugly stone lump that no one would even want to touch."
Neville's expression gradually changed from initial fear to sympathy.
He looked at the wilted plant and said softly, "It... it doesn't want to be like this... it only does this to survive."
Professor Sprout immediately clapped for Neville and agreed, "That's right, Mr. Longbottom! Every plant's way of survival deserves our respect."
At this moment, the gazes of all the students toward Draco were filled with unhidden admiration.
No one expected that he could understand a plant's habits so thoroughly that even the Professor was full of praise for him.
Finally, the sound of Draco's summary reached everyone's ears: "So it's not like those plants that scream or bite, making a huge fuss for fear that others won't know they're not to be trifled with."
"It looks wilted and non-threatening precisely because it's preparing a big move."
"All its cleverness is spent on how to look ugly and useless, so that everyone is too lazy to touch it."
"When it really comes down to a life-or-death moment, that one strike of its is enough to make anyone suffer."
[Ding—Original plot added, luck value increased by 20!]
After listening, the students nodded one after another, their faces showing looks of sudden enlightenment.
Hermione, who had been immersed in Draco's narration, suddenly snapped back to her senses.
Looking at Draco's composed profile, she felt a sense of grudging respect for his thorough explanation.
However, after this admiration, a huge surge of curiosity rose in her heart.
How on earth did he do it?
How could he be so knowledgeable about a plant that even many upper-year students might not recognize?
This curiosity turned into a strong urge, making her want to rush to the Library immediately and look up all the information on Mimbulus Mimbletonia.
The moment Draco finished speaking, Professor Sprout looked at him with admiration: "Exquisite, Mr. Malfoy! You have not only seen through its disguise but also grasped all the logic behind its behavior."
"In this class, you have given us all a wonderful lesson, one more vivid and profound than any knowledge in a textbook."
"The essence of Herbology lies not in remembering how many names of plants, but in 'understanding'."
Her gaze lingered on Draco and Hermione for a moment, her eyes holding a touch of expectation.
"Understand why they are the way they are, and why they choose to exist in the world in such a manner."
"Mimbulus Mimbletonia chose 'mediocrity' as its armor, which requires such precise perception and control."
"Every bit of its ordinariness is an incredibly luxurious 'investment' made for the sake of survival."
"Therefore, our most basic respect for nature does not come from fear, but from this 'understanding'."
"Because you understand why it is so, you will keep your distance from the bottom of your heart, exploring with your eyes rather than your hands."
"This respect based on understanding is your strongest shield and most reliable compass in the magicworld."
She clapped her hands lightly, her tone becoming more cheerful. "Alright, let's take this new realization of 'understanding' and continue our quiet journey.
"The next 'resident' is just ahead. I'm curious to see what you can 'understand' from it."
Chapter 91: This Child Has the Potential of an Emperor
As the expedition through Greenhouse Three continued, Professor Sprout pointed out several more plants with peculiar forms and diverse habits.
And every time Professor Sprout posed a question, Draco could always pick up the thread, using the solid knowledge instilled in his mind by the system to explain the plants' characteristics with precision and depth.
He could not only describe their growing environments and medicinal values but even supplement details that even Hermione had never read about in 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi'.
These unheard-of pieces of knowledge had the Young Wizards gasping in astonishment.
The looks they now cast at Draco were full of amazement and admiration.
Even the usually supremely confident Hermione couldn't help but furrow her brow, wondering to herself: These things were never mentioned in the textbook, where on earth did he learn them?
This unique extracurricular tutorial finally drew to a close with Professor Sprout's concluding remarks.
She looked at Draco standing among the crowd, her eyes brimming with praise: 'I must give special commendation, Mr. Malfoy!'
'Your profound understanding of magical plant traits and your approach of considering them within the context of their survival strategies demonstrate extraordinary insight and talent.'
'The depth of this knowledge is completely at the level of an Outstanding N.E.W.T. level essay!'
These words were like a massive stone thrown into a calm lake, instantly causing an uproar among the students.
N.E.W.T. level! That was an exam level that only sixth and seventh-year students fought hard for, for their further education and career plans!
And Draco was just a first-year student who had just started school. His understanding of Herbologyhad already reached such an astonishing height!
Hermione felt a buzzing in her head, nearly dizzy.
What shocked her was not only the exaggerated evaluation given by Professor Sprout but also the first time in her life tasting the frustration of being outmatched.
She had always believed that, with her exceptional diligence and memory, she was far ahead of her peers.
But today, compared to Draco, she was startled to realize that the gap between people could be so vast.
In stark contrast to Hermione's despondency, Neville's current state could only be described as 'ecstatic'.
His round face was filled with undisguised worship for Draco.
The look in his eyes when he glanced at Draco was akin to gazing upon an unfathomably deep Herbology tome.
The Hufflepuff students were also completely won over by Draco's talent.
Hannah's kind eyes widened slightly, her face showing awe and admiration.
She couldn't help but whisper to Susan beside her: 'Merlin, N.E.W.T. level... and he's only a first-year! That's incredible! It's a miracle!'
Susan nodded, agreeing deeply with Hannah's words.
But her gaze swept between Hermione and Draco, carrying a hint of sympathy for Hermione.
The other students continued to discuss.
'Amazing... Malfoy is just too awesome!'
'How does he know so much? Did he study Herbology at home since childhood?'
'If I had even half his talent, the Professor would praise me every day!'
'Truly remarkable,' Macmillan chimed in.
Then he added, 'However, Hufflepuff has its own strengths, such as loyalty and diligence. These qualities are more important than raw talent.'
Despite his words, a trace of envy was still evident in his eyes as he looked at Draco.
Draco, at the center of the crowd, was completely indifferent to all this.
He thought to himself: Having a living Herbology encyclopedia in my head, of course it's easy.
Not just N.E.W.T. level, even more difficult assessments would be a piece of cake.
It's just like an open-book exam, what's so hard about it?
Professor Sprout seemed to sense the subtle shift in atmosphere.
She shifted her focus, casting her gaze towards Hermione and the other students, and said kindly.
'Of course, Miss Granger's keen observations, and all of you who paid close attention and asked thoughtful questions today, have made this lesson so wonderfully productive!'
These words were like a soothing balm, instantly easing the tension among the Young Wizards.
Professor Sprout looked at the gradually setting sun outside, then at the students' faces still flushed with excitement, and the faint, hard-to-conceal weariness.
She clapped her hands, her face breaking into her signature warm smile: 'Alright, explorers, I think your brains are now full of wonderful
Chapter 92: Peeves Making Trouble
"Shall we walk together?" Draco's voice was as steady as ever, his gaze calmly sweeping over Hermione walking beside him and Olivia at his side.
"My history... er, interpersonal history is probably far worse than my Herbology," Draco self-deprecated.
He continued, "The next class is History of Magic with Professor Binns. Considering his unique teaching style, it might be helpful to organize the key timeline and the demands of various parties in the Goblin Rebellions beforehand, so we don't... get completely lost in those dates. If you don't mind."
Hearing this, Hermione's footsteps paused almost imperceptibly.
She didn't answer immediately, but instead shot a quick glance at Olivia beside her, seemingly seeking her opinion silently.
Olivia understood and said, "The Goblin Rebellions? Yes, that is indeed necessary."
"The textbook's account of that period is far too brief, especially the contradictory details in the treaties signed between Goblins and Wizards before the establishment of Gringotts—it's frustratingly vague. It would be for the best to sort out the context in advance."
Beside them, Neville chimed in as if he had found a lifeline:
"History of Magic! Oh, merlins beard, those messy dates and tongue-twisting names, I always get them mixed up... If we could sort them out beforehand, that would be great! Hermione, are you good at this?"
Hearing her companions' words, the icy layer of wariness on Hermione's face finally showed a slight sign of melting, albeit reluctantly.
She first shot a quick glance at Draco and said:
"The timeline of the Goblin Rebellions, especially the gap between the 1163 'Wand Use Memorandum' and the 1194 'Galleon Minting Agreement', is key to understanding the subsequent escalation of conflict."
"Many people only remember the outcome of the war, but they ignore the loopholes in these two documents, which were the root of the conflict."
Hermione spoke briskly, clearly taking a leading stance in the discussion.
"Furthermore," she added, "if we look at it from the perspective of economic dependence and the monopoly on magical tools, it might explain more clearly why the negotiations in 1210 completely broke down."
Although Neville didn't understand, his gaze toward Hermione was now full of trust.
"Ye-yeah, there's so much to remember for History of Magic! I always mix up the order of these treaties too... It's great to have you help sort them out!"
Then, Neville subconsciously leaned closer to Draco, feeling as though he and Draco had become allies in the matter of "not being good at History of Magic."
This realization made him feel a bit closer to Draco.
Hermione's gaze also softened slightly. She looked at Draco and said:
"If you're interested in the Goblin Rebellions, Chapter Three of 'Medieval Magical Society Trade and Contracts' has a more detailed record and analysis."
"'Medieval Magical Society Trade and Contracts'." Draco clearly repeated the book title she mentioned. "Thanks, Hermione. This angle is much more useful than simply memorizing years."
He thought to himself: Even with the system's book of knowledge by his side, maintaining the persona of a "poor student in History of Magic" was the right move.
This way, he could close the distance with Hermione without appearing too sharp—truly killing two birds with one stone.
"Of course," Hermione said, tilting her chin slightly with confidence.
"Bagshot's book only gives the sequence of events, but tax and trade data truly reveal the actual flow of resources and power imbalance between the Wizarding and Goblin communities."
As she spoke, the arms holding her books were no longer wrapped tightly in a defensive manner.
Draco nodded and added, following her lead:
"I remember the book mentioned that in the 1194 agreement, Goblins were responsible for minting Galleons but were forbidden from owning wands, which in itself was an imbalance of power."
"This suppression was the fuse for the later rebellions."
The four of them walked slowly along the path outside the Castle, discussing the complex threads of History of Magic with great enthusiasm.
Draco inserted a few insightful remarks at the right moments, which weren't too flashy but hit the points precisely.
This caused Hermione to glance at him frequently, her eyes showing a few degrees more approval.
Immersed in the ocean of History of Magic knowledge, the four of them unknowingly stepped into the Castle's the Entrance Hall.
The the Entrance Hall was busy with people, many students in small groups discussing the Greenhouse exploration from earlier.
Just then.
On the massive chandelier hanging in the center of the the Entrance Hall, a harsh, shrill cackle broke the harmony.
"Ooh-ho-ho-ho! Look who's here? A bunch of little bookworms, noses almost buried in their Parchment!"
Along with the mocking voice, a figure in ragged clothes with a ridiculous appearance jumped down from the chandelier and hovered in the air before the four of them.
They all recognized him; it was Peeves, who had teased Percy last night.
As soon as the surrounding students saw Peeves, they showed expressions of disgust and tension.
They quickened their pace in fear, trying to slip past him while muttering curses under their breath:
"That nuisance again!"
"Hurry, hurry, don't provoke him, or nothing good will happen!"
Neville's face turned deathly pale in an instant, and he subconsciously shrunk between Draco and Hermione, as if trying to hide.
"Oh, no... not him again..."
"Waa-waa! Look at that little butterball!" Peeves immediately zeroed in on the timid Neville.
He pointed straight at the pale, trembling Neville and mimicked his tone with a sobbing voice.
"He's so scared he's about to wet his pants!"
As he spoke, he made various ridiculous and scary diving feints in the air, each dive making Nevilleshrink back in terror.
This made Peeves even more delighted, his laughter loud enough to shatter the glass in the the Entrance Hall.
Hermione's muscles tensed instantly, and her other hand reached into her robe's wand pocket with surprising speed, pulling out her wand.
Her eyes were full of annoyance as she looked at Peeves.
"Peeves!"
"I'm warning you, if you dare use those filthy things to dirty my books or attack any student, I will definitely report you to Professor McGonagall! You'll be in for it then!"
Hermione spoke with the rebuking tone of a top student leader, trying to overwhelm him with her presence.
"Ooh—! Listen to who's giving orders! It's Miss Bookworm! 'Report to Professor McGonagall!' I'm so sca-a-ared!"
Peeves gave an exaggerated shudder in the air, then gave Hermione a mockingly deep bow.
Then he suddenly lunged close to Hermione.
Draco immediately stepped forward, blocking Hermione and shielding her behind him.
"Ooh—!" Peeves let out an exaggerated gasp, slowly flipping himself upright.
He looked Draco up and down with interest, as if he had discovered something novel.
"Look who it is? A little white ferret wanting to play hero today?"
He flew half a circle around Draco, trying to find a better angle to taunt him.
Finally, he returned to the front of Draco.
"But I remember the Malfoy boy used to love seeing others make fools of themselves!"
Peeves specifically picked at the Malfoy family's sore spots, his tone full of mockery.
"What, had a change of heart? Or is it..."
He shot a malicious glance at Hermione, who was hiding behind Draco, and a wicked grin curled on his lips.
"You've taken a shine to this little ink-brained girl?"
"His nonsense is as worthless as those mud pies, Granger."
Draco ignored Peeves' provocation and instead turned his head to speak softly to Hermione behind him.
Hermione's violent trembling, caused by Peeves' insults and her own anger, stopped abruptly the moment Draco finished his sentence.
She looked at Draco's tall back, and her heart felt inexplicably settled.
Draco waved his hand as he spoke, clearly enunciating the incantation: "Protego!"
A translucent magical barrier appeared in response, like a massive protective shield, standing between the four of them and Peeves.
Draco then turned his gaze back to Peeves and said mockingly, "You're looking for death, aren't you, Peeves?"
Chapter 93: I Was Just Messing With You
The moment Draco's heated words fell, Olivia beside him gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
In her view, using such an emotionally charged provocation to anger a Poltergeist that thrived on chaos was hardly a wise move.
This behavior only needlessly increased the unpredictability of the situation, adding unnecessary risks. It was far less prudent than a calm and calculated approach.
Neville, who was already pale with fear, now turned as white as a sheet.
He instinctively shrank back, muttering unconsciously, 'Oh no... Don't, Draco... Let's just run, Peeves is bad news...'
Hermione, who had felt a flicker of strange emotion moments ago when Draco stepped in to protect her, now furrowed her brow and looked at him with disappointment.
She sighed inwardly: Of course it's him. Of course it's the Malfoy heir, with a combative nature etched into his very bones. His first instinct when faced with a problem is still violence and provocation.
Sure enough, Draco's words not only failed to intimidate Peeves but completely ignited the ghost's excitement.
He erupted into even sharper, more piercing cackles, his round body swelling slightly with glee as he bounced back and forth in mid-air.
'Looking for death?! Hahahaha! Little Malfoy says I'm looking for death!'
Peeves laughed so hard he turned several somersaults in the air, his red and green hair a disheveled mess.
Then he jeered, 'I'm already a ghost! Do ghosts fear death? What a colossal joke!'
Draco said disdainfully, 'You're just a nuisance everyone at Hogwarts wants gone!'
'What do you know!' Peeves instantly bristled, stopping his somersaults.
He planted his hands on his hips, 'They don't dislike me, they fear me! Understand, you little brat?!'
Seeing his triumphant posture, a flash of cunning crossed Draco's eyes.
He suddenly wiped the coldness from his face, replacing it with a look of panic, and pointed a finger behind Peeves.
'Peeves, behind you...'
His voice even carried a slight tremble.
Upon hearing this, Peeves sneered contemptuously and made a mocking face at Draco:
'Trying to scare me, are you? I've scared more people at Hogwarts than you've eaten potatoes! You think this little trick can fool me?'
However, as if not hearing him, the fear on Draco's face deepened.
His voice shook even more: 'The Bloody Baron! It's The Bloody Baron! He's here to settle the score with you!'
The moment 'The Bloody Baron' was uttered, Peeves's expression instantly changed.
Though he usually feared nothing, he held a deeply ingrained dread for that particular Slytherin ghost.
He reflexively spun around, shouting, 'Where? Where?!'
In the split second Peeves turned his back, the panic vanished from Draco's eyes.
He swiftly grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her as he shouted, 'Run!'
At the same time, he turned and yelled towards Neville and Olivia, who were still standing there: 'Neville, Olivia, move! Now!'
The moment Draco grabbed her hand, Hermione's body stiffened, instinctively wanting to pull away.
She had always disliked close physical contact with others, especially with Draco.
But Draco's action was too fast, leaving her no time to react.
However, after a brief moment of shock, Hermione immediately understood this was their best chance to escape Peeves.
Without any further resistance, she instead matched Draco's pace and started running.
Olivia, who was already perceptive, instantly grasped Draco's plan.
Without hesitation, she hissed at Neville, 'Run!'
Then she immediately sprinted off.
'Wait for me!' Neville stumbled, nearly falling.
He staggered after Olivia.
As they ran, Hermione gasped urgently to Draco, 'Left! The Great Hall! There are more corridors there, harder for him to follow...'
Meanwhile, the tricked Peeves finally realized what had happened.
He spun back around to see the now empty corridor.
Peeves let out a furious roar: 'You tricked me, you little snake! I'll turn you into a pie! I'll turn you all into pies!'
However, no matter how loud his roar, it fell on empty air.
Draco and the others had already sprinted around a corner, their figures disappearing down a connecting hallway.
The few students who had witnessed the scene in the Entrance Hall stood dumbfounded.
Some younger wizards, scared by Peeves's rage, shrank back.
A group of Gryffindor students, however, couldn't help but laugh, finding this much more entertaining than Peeves's usual one-sided mischief.
'Merlin's beard! Malfoy tricked Peeves!' a Gryffindor boy guffawed, slapping his knee.
'Look! They're running! Peeves is chasing! This is going to be good!' a girl chimed in.
They had run for what felt like an eternity, Peeves's manic cackles seeming to echo from every wall.
The Poltergeist, enraged, was using his full spectral abilities, phasing through solid stone to cut them off.
Suddenly, Peeves's colorful form erupted from the wall ahead, blocking their path.
'Gotcha! Little weasel and the Muggle-born bookworm!' Peeves crowed triumphantly.
He hovered before them, clutching his sides with laughter.
'Run! Keep running! No one escapes Peeves! You're just waiting to be my next playthings!'
Hermione's chest heaved from exertion and adrenaline, but her gaze remained sharp.
She quickly scanned their surroundings, her voice rapid and low: 'It's no use, he can move through walls! We need an open space, or somewhere with solid barriers to limit his paths...'
'Oho ho ho! Hear that? Miss Know-It-All is thinking!' Peeves cackled, cutting her off.
Then he taunted, 'Too bad, it's useless! In this corridor, I am the king!'
Looking at the gloating Poltergeist before him, a mischievous smile suddenly appeared on Draco's face.
He stopped running and released Hermione's hand.
Then he said with a teasing grin, 'Actually, I wasn't trying to run.'
Peeves's laughter stopped abruptly as he looked at Draco suspiciously.
'I was just messing with you. Believe it?'
Chapter 94: Do You Know Who My Father Is?
The moment Draco's casual remark left his lips, Hermione beside him immediately whipped her head around.
Her brown eyes widened into perfect circles, her gaze fixed on him as if she were looking at a complete and utter lunatic.
"J...joking with me?!" Peeves was also stunned by this earth-shattering statement.
"You're lying!" He quickly snapped back to his senses and began shrieking again.
"You were running faster than a Niffler under a treasure-seeking curse just now! You were scared! You and your Muggle girlfriend were terrified out of your minds!"
Peeves desperately tried to regain the upper hand he had moments before.
But Draco merely curled the corner of his mouth, taunting, "Do I look scared to you?"
Hermione's eyes widened even further. The look she gave Draco might as well have had the words 'He's completely lost it' written in bright, bold letters.
"I'll make you regret being born!" Peeves completely lost his patience for toying with them, his 'cat-and-mouse' game mentality vanishing without a trace.
"I'll make you taste real fear! Let you know the consequences of offending Lord Peeves!"
It lunged at Draco, claws bared and teeth gnashing, its red-and-green hair standing on end like an angry wildcat.
Yet Draco remained standing in place, not even raising his wand in the slightest defensive gesture.
He simply lifted one hand slowly, palm facing forward, making a clear and concise'stop' gesture toward Peeves.
"Wait."
A calm voice floated out, seemingly light as air yet carrying a strange, compelling power.
Peeves screeched to a halt.
Hermione was utterly dumbfounded now.
She watched, wide-eyed, as Peeves's aggressive lunge came to an abrupt stop, the entire ghost freezing mid-air.
Peeves was mere inches from Draco. The boy and the ghost stood in a deadlock, the scene eerily unsettling.
A moment later, Peeves regained its composure.
It hung its head, crossed its arms, and said in a tone dripping with sarcasm, "What? Trying to beg for mercy now? Isn't it a little too late for that?"
"I'm not begging for mercy," Draco's voice remained calm and unruffled.
He looked at Peeves, a faint hint of mockery in his eyes. "I just want to remind you. Do you know who I am?"
The instant this question was asked, the extreme shock and bewilderment in Hermione's eyes rapidly faded.
It transformed into a strong sense of disgust born of sudden understanding.
She understood.
She understood everything now.
So, from the very beginning, all of Draco's maneuvering, all his so-called 'quick-wittedness,' was merely a setup for this very moment.
He wasn't relying on courage or quick thinking to confront Peeves at all.
From the start, he had planned to reveal his surname, to flaunt his family background, using it as his ultimate weapon of intimidation.
This realization was like a bucket of ice-cold water, instantly dousing the faint, peculiar feeling that had stirred in Hermione's heart when Draco stepped forward to protect her.
"S-so what?!" Peeves stuck out its neck, trying to recover its earlier bravado, but its voice noticeably lacked conviction.
"Lord Peeves fears nothing! Not even Dumbledore can do anything about me!"
"Stop bragging," Draco scoffed derisively.
He said with utter contempt, "Then do you dare to prank Dumbledore?"
"I... I..." Peeves was rendered speechless by this, stammering for a long while.
It wanted to argue, to say 'Of course I dare,' but the words stuck in its throat, impossible to utter.
Dumbledore's name was like an invisible mountain, weighing it down and making it hard to breathe.
Its hollow threats seemed so pale and laughable in the face of the Hogwarts Headmaster's prestige.
After a long stalemate, Peeves finally managed to squeeze out a lame excuse: "That's because he's the Headmaster of Hogwarts! I respect him!"
"Cut the crap," Draco mercilessly exposed the lie.
"Respect him? You're just afraid he'll stuff you into some filthy old toilet where you'll never get out."
After this taunt, Draco fixed a sharp gaze on Peeves. "I don't care if you're afraid of him or not. I just want to ask you: Do you know who my father is?"
"Lucius Malfoy!"
Peeves almost blurted it out, shrieking the name.
Its voice was tinged with an unmistakable cringe of fear.
Of course it knew.
That blond-haired, cold-faced man. The man with immense power and influence in the Wizarding World. The man even the Ministry of Magic had to show deference to.
The formidable reputation of Lucius Malfoy instilled far more fear in Peeves than the name Draco ever could.
"What... what else can you do besides using your father to scare people?!"
Peeves's voice grew increasingly hollow, but it still stubbornly tried to salvage the last shred of its dignity.
Watching Draco's demeanor, Hermione couldn't help but shake her head slightly, the disdain in her heart growing stronger.
The tiny bit of goodwill accumulated from their trip to the Greenhouse had now completely evaporated, leaving only profound disappointment.
It seemed the Malfoys could never escape their bullying, power-reliant nature after all.
As the two faced off, more and more students gathered to watch.
At the corner of the corridor, heads bobbed, and murmurs rose and fell.
Most looked at Draco with undisguised disgust.
"The same old trick... throwing his family's weight around."
A Hufflepuff girl muttered under her breath, her tone full of disdain.
"What else can he do besides rely on his father? It's embarrassing."
A Ravenclaw boy chimed in agreement.
"Peeves is annoying, but Malfoy's behavior is just too ugly..."
"Exactly, what kind of skill is that?"
However, a few students showed completely different expressions.
"Malfoy's so impressive, even Peeves is afraid of his father."
A low-year Slytherin Young Wizard said with eyes full of admiration.
"I wish I could rely on my dad too... If my father were that powerful, Peeves would never dare bully me." A little wizard beside him nodded eagerly, face full of envy.
These murmurs clearly reached Peeves's ears.
It was already seething with humiliation from Draco pulling out the 'Lucius Malfoy' card.
Hearing these comments now, it trembled with rage, its reason completely consumed by fury.
"Aaaaaaaaah—!!"
An ear-splitting shriek suddenly reverberated through the entire corridor.
Peeves's body swelled to its absolute limit from anger, its red-and-green hair whirling madly like a ball of flame.
"Who says Lord Peeves is scared?!" it roared furiously, its vicious gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Who said it?! Step forward for Lord Peeves!!"
Its voice was full of violence, frightening the watching students into stepping back, their faces showing terror.
The previously buzzing corridor instantly fell silent, leaving only the sound of Peeves's heavy panting.
The students who had just been whispering and commenting on Draco's 'dad-reliance' a moment ago now had their expressions frozen in an instant.
Their faces were left with nothing but sheer terror.
But then, the crowd automatically parted to form a path as two figures slowly walked out.
One had messy black hair, wore round glasses, and had a hint of youthful boldness between his brows.
The other had disheveled red hair, a face full of freckles, and eyes sparkling with the excitement of someone who loves a good spectacle.
It was Ron and Harry.
Seeing the two, Peeves paused briefly before erupting into an even more arrogant fit of wild laughter:
"Oh—! Look who it is! The Boy-Who-Lived and his ginger sidekick!"
It bobbed up and down in mid-air, its tone dripping with mockery:
"What? Feeling important? Want to play the hero? Want to save these useless little insects who only know how to gossip?"
Peeves had finally found its outlet.
Ron quickly waved his hands, a sly smile appearing on his face.
He said loudly to Peeves, "No, no, no. We didn't come out to fight you. We just wanted to tell you the truth."
Peeves's laughter cut off abruptly. It looked suspiciously at Ron and Harry, its eyes full of wariness. "The truth? What truth? Are you trying to play some trick too?!"