"Elizabeth, I think I understand how you feel, perhaps even more. They not only mocked me, but they all treated me like an enemy." After class, Hermione said to the door of the abandoned bathroom on the second floor, "That is a really terrible feeling."
"Right..." Myrtle said miserably, "It feels like being abandoned by the entire house, does it not?"
Myrtle peered through the crack in the door, quietly watching Hermione's face.
The face was filled with frustration and melancholy, a stark contrast to the bright face she had seen last time.
At that moment, she realized that she was not alone.
"I have to tell you something," Myrtle suddenly said, no longer wanting to lie to her. "I actually have another name..."
"I know, Myrtle, do I not? I asked around when I got back the other day, and there is no student named Elizabeth in Ravenclaw anymore, let alone Olive Hornby. But there is a resident ghost in the abandoned girls' bathroom on the second floor. I guessed that was you." Hermione squatted on the floor, staring at the wet floor and the dim candlelight reflected on it, and said listlessly.
"You guessed right." Myrtle darted through the door, her transparent body circling Hermione once, and said nervously and plaintively, "You do not want to be friends with me anymore, do you? Nobody likes a crybaby like Myrtle..."
"But you are my friend now. What does it matter? Are living people any more friendly than ghosts? Look at all my classmates who are isolating me!" Hermione said bitterly, forcing a smile at Myrtle. "I still prefer to call you Elizabeth. It reminds me of a noble princess or queen or something."
"You can call me that." Myrtle's entire demeanor changed instantly.
Feeling smug from Hermione's flattery, she posed vainly before a stained, cracked mirror, her face radiant.
However, when Myrtle saw her spectacles and the spots on her chin, she suddenly let out a sorrowful sob.
"Do not be sad, Hermione. You are much luckier than me... At least you are still alive, you can still wear lots of pretty clothes, you do not wear spectacles, and you do not have spots..." She finished sobbing and then dived headfirst into the toilet, disappearing somewhere.
Hermione sighed, whispered "See you later" to the toilet, opened the door to the bathroom, and returned to the cold, unwelcoming reality.
The window seat in the library temporarily lost its appeal to her. There were always some Gryffindor students passing by who would look at her with critical eyes, and she was stung by their unfriendly attitude.
She would often find the books she wanted to read in the library early in the morning when there were few people around, and then take them to an oak tree by the Black Lake.
The lush foliage and verdant vegetation there could easily conceal a sad, melancholic, and unpopular girl.
One day in May, Draco was taking a walk by the Black Lake when he ran into Hermione, who was all alone.
"Hermione Granger, where is that smile you owe me? When are you going to pay me back?" he said in a demanding tone.
Hermione was sitting under a large, lush oak tree, listlessly studying her lessons.
"Oh, stop bothering me, Draco. I really cannot smile right now." Hermione slammed the book shut, her pretty face etched with worry.
"I must admit, you are a true Gryffindor, utterly reckless." Draco knelt down before her, picking up the notebook brimming with writing. "The Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637? The process of the goblin rebellions?"
He clicked his tongue and raised an eyebrow. "Are you not overcomplicating things? I think even Professor Binns would admit that this knowledge is too advanced for first year students."
"Put it down, Draco, and get away from me. This is none of your business," Hermione said irritably, like a sensitive newborn hedgehog whose still soft and delicate quills had been accidentally touched.
Why is this Slytherin boy always hanging around me like a debt collector?
Why does he have to make me smile?
Perhaps he wants to make fun of me. Is he finally going to take off his mask and mock me, this "reckless and impulsive" Gryffindor?
"All right." Draco shrugged, put down the notebook, but did not leave. Instead, he calmly sat down beside her.
I cannot bear to see her so unhappy, so I shall try to help her. He lay back, closed his eyes, and felt the warm sunshine on his face.
"I have to remind you, no one in this world is perfect. You do not need to be so hard on yourself."
The sun was shining brightly today. He simply put his hands behind his head, lay back, closed his eyes, and felt the warm sunshine on them.
Hermione turned to look at him. His face was glowing white in the sunlight, and his eyelashes cast a small patch of thick shadow on his face, trembling slightly, as beautiful as a butterfly that could fly away at any moment.
This relaxed demeanor and beautiful profile appeared completely non threatening.
He did not seem to have any ill intentions.
He was even willing to take the initiative to greet her and strike up a conversation.
He was willing to be her classmate in any class, and seemed to want to make her smile in a clumsy and serious way, even though she had been listless lately, did not talk much, and rarely smiled.
Then she suddenly realized that her attitude just now had been very bad.
"I am sorry, Draco, I should not have snapped at you. You should not have been treated like this... You have always been so kind to me." Hermione lowered her head, rubbed her eyes, and tears welled up in her pupils.
"It is all right." The sunlight fell on his face, bringing a comfortable warmth, which made him look lazy.
"I understand how you feel," he said. "I was once just as naive and sensitive as you are. When people around you act in an extreme way, you feel a certain kind of pain."
"Yes, it hurts, it hurts so much," Hermione whispered. "I hate this feeling, this feeling of shame."
"You need to know that it is not shameful to be sad. Pain is normal. Only people with hearts as hard as ice do not feel pain." He continued, a hint of sadness, typical of someone who had been through it, flashing across his face.
Draco considered himself to be the one with a heart as hard as ice.
In my past life, the Malfoy family fell into ruin and I endured countless cold stares from others. If I did not freeze my heart and become numb to it, how could I have survived?
How much warmth would it take to thaw the cold currents frozen deep in my heart?
"You are a year younger than me!" Hermione said through tears, her voice thick with congestion. "But it sounds like I am talking to my grandfather."
She is quite perceptive. She hits the nail on the head. In the hazy, glowing vision beneath his eyelids, Draco nervously shifted his gaze.
"People do not have good memories. It will get better in a while. Once everyone forgets about it, or something new happens, life will be much easier." Draco turned to look at her, opened his eyes, and comforted her in a lighthearted tone.
Hermione sighed.
She lay down like him, looking wistfully at the lush green leaves above her head, recalling the scorn and contempt she had recently suffered.
"But I lost fifty points. Nobody loses fifty points at once." Her eyelashes were wet, and there was a sad and mournful tone in her voice.
Draco felt he could almost smell the bitter, salty scent of the tears.
She must be very sad.
A first year student entering Hogwarts faces disdain from her fellow students and gloating glances from the other three houses.
Hermione Granger, who has not yet grown up, is just a little girl who cries easily and cannot hide her vulnerable, fragile, and sentimental side very well.
"But you have earned more than fifty points for Gryffindor this year. You have received bonuses from professors in almost every course for your outstanding performance, some more than once. If you are upset about those fifty points, take action to make up for them. You need to perform even better and try to earn more points before the end of term to regain what you have lost. Also, tell Potter that instead of wallowing in self pity, he should train his Quidditch skills properly. A Golden Snitch is worth a lot of points." He stared at the shimmering light in her eyes and, before they could overflow, rattled off a whole string of words, probably more than he usually said in an entire day.
Hermione stared at him, taken aback by his lengthy speech.
Perhaps it was because of the weather, but she suddenly noticed that his grey eyes seemed exceptionally light, like a clear lake.
The lake seems to want to absorb my tears, radiating a gentle, comforting warmth, rather than the cold indifference it usually exudes.
She listened blankly to his words of advice, gazing intently at the unique, clear lake in his eyes, where the sorrow in her heart was silently dissolved.
Suddenly, a mischievous grey squirrel passed by on the tree above and accidentally dropped the pine cone it was holding.
The pine cone came crashing down toward her face. She turned around and gasped, only to find that the pine cone had instantly transformed into a pale pink flower, swirling down and gently covering her face.
Like a dream woven from fine silk.
Curious, she picked up the flower and examined it against the light filtering through the leaves.
This was a beautiful pink flower with a shallow cup shape, somewhat like a rose. The color was very soft, and the flower shape was dignified and elegant.
She sniffed it. The fragrance was different from that of ordinary roses, with an added rich myrrh scent.
"What kind of flower is this?" A bright, innocent smile unconsciously appeared on her lips as she turned to ask the boy beside her. The familiar curiosity, inquiry, and joyful light that Draco knew so well shone in her brown eyes once again.
Draco smiled slightly.
It seems Miss Know-It-All's energy has returned.
"This is a very resilient rose variety that I often see at Malfoy Manor. The gardeners call it 'Gentle Hermione.' I think you might like it." He put away his wand, a hint of pleasure flashing in his eyes.
"Oh! Of course I like it. Draco, I am afraid my Transfiguration will never be as good as yours." Hermione looked at the flower with a carefree expression, complaining half jokingly, "I am just a bookworm, but you use magic much more flexibly. That natural magical thinking, that smooth and flowing way of casting spells... I really envy you."
"I only have a few more years of experience than you because I was born into a magical family. You learn very quickly and stand out among your peers. It will not be long before you surpass me." Draco stood up and brushed the grass clippings off his robes.
He gazed at the calm, still Black Lake, his eyes once again turning frosty.
He knows so much because he has experienced so much... those dark, suffocating things... He would rather be a clueless little fool. Perhaps he would be happier that way.
"Speaking of which, Hermione, I need to ask you for a favor." He hesitated for a moment, then finally turned around, choosing to break the silence and make his request.
"All right." Hermione stood up from the lawn, preparing to stand. The boy before her seemed to instinctively help her, reaching out to pull her up.
"Thank you." With his assistance, she suddenly stood up and almost stumbled toward him.
She had not expected him to lend a hand. This surprised her slightly, but also made her feel somewhat happy.
I have not been treated with kindness in so long. His hand is warm.
"You are welcome," Draco said. Once she was steady, he hurriedly let go of her hand and quickly put his hands behind his back.
He was terrified by his own actions.
He forgot to maintain a safe distance again.
He probably should not have reached out to her. In her past life, she had never politely accepted his outstretched hand, let alone sincerely expressed her gratitude to him.
However, in this life, without realizing it, he has begun to get used to reaching out to her, and even before his brain has time to think, his hand moves.
And she seems quite happy. After all, she has not rejected him. Instead, she has accepted his hand.
"You can refuse," Draco said softly.
"Refuse what?" Hermione asked, a look of confusion in her eyes.
"I mean, that request I made to you, the thing I asked you to do for me," Draco said hastily.
She seems to accept my touch and my requests readily.
This attitude, so different from my previous life, sometimes leaves me at a loss.
"I said, all right." Hermione glanced at him, finding his words somewhat cryptic. "Do you actually want me to say yes or not?"
"Of course I hope you will agree. But I must warn you, you will be risking your life to do this," Draco said hesitantly.
Honestly, I do not want to involve her in all of this. She should stay happily in a safe area and do whatever she wants.
But I find myself in a predicament.
This matter is so important that if it is accomplished, it may end all my worries. I have no choice but to do it.
However, I have no one else I can trust, and this task requires two people to do it together. Either Potter, Longbottom, or Hermione, I must choose one of these three to ask for help.
In this situation, seeking help from Hermione Granger, who has an exceptional talent for spellcasting, seems to be my only option.
"Will you come with me?" Hermione looked at him intently.
"Of course." Draco nodded.
"Then I agree." Hermione's face showed a hint of curiosity. "Tell me more details, what exactly is it?"
"Remember the Full Body Bind Curse I mentioned to you last time? You need to master it as soon as possible," Draco said seriously, predictably seeing her confused expression.