As a Slytherin, Draco liked to simplify complex problems.
His plan for the Dark Lord was quite simple—in the Forbidden Forest, when the Dark Lord was at his weakest, deliver a fatal blow.
This was all thanks to Dobby's surveillance. A while ago, he proudly appeared before Draco and told his little master that Quirrell had been sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest lately; last Wednesday, Dobby came to Draco again to report that a unicorn had died in the Forbidden Forest.
Combining these two pieces of information, Draco quickly realized what had happened.
In his past life, he and Potter had met Quirrell and the Dark Lord in the Forbidden Forest. At that time, he prolonged his life by drinking unicorn blood.
This is an extremely drastic method. No wise wizard would willingly harm a unicorn. Harming a unicorn means you will possess a cursed soul, which is not a good thing for any wizard.
Even the half-dead Dark Lord did not choose to harm the unicorns when he first entered Hogwarts.
Unless, of course, despair reaches a certain point—say, weakness to the point of impending death. Given Quirrell's increasingly pale and frail appearance lately, this is almost a certainty.
Is there a better time to attack?
What Draco had to do was follow Potter closely.
He believed that Potter would once again encounter the Dark Lord—you can always trust Potter's knack for getting into trouble.
"If Filch takes you to detention, never leave Potter's side," Draco said as he led Hermione through the deep corridors of the library. "Stay close to him."
"Harry and I were going to be in detention together anyway! Of course we would be together..." Hermione said absentmindedly.
Right now, she was tugging at his sleeve, following him as he wandered left and right through the Restricted Section, trying to memorize the complicated route to Draco's magical learning space.
"What if you have to separate into groups? You have to be in a group with Potter," Draco emphasized, glancing back at her and noticing she was giving a perfunctory nod, preoccupied with observing the aisle and bookshelves.
Hermione Granger's curiosity.
Ever since he told her he would take her to his study space, she has been excited and put everything else second, single-mindedly trying to figure out this route.
"This is it." Draco stopped in front of a pile of rubbish, with some thick, dark green double-stranded wires blocking their way.
Hermione examined a dark green, gilded barrier standing in front of the double-stranded wire, on which was written in cursive script, "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus (Sleeping Dragon, Do Not Disturb)".
"Is this not Hogwarts' motto? To be honest, I have seen this sign several times before; it turns out it has been right in front of me all along—"
Hermione stood beside him, her mouth agape in astonishment, looking utterly bewildered. "This is not like what I saw before! Why has it become so unrecognizable?"
"There are some security measures in place," Draco said softly, a hint of smugness flashing in his grey eyes. "I do not want unrelated people to know about this place."
"I understand. But you are willing to tell me. Is that all right?" She glanced at him, a strange sense of delight welling up inside her.
"As long as you keep this a secret and do not let a third person know," he said, looking at her slowly smiling face, a faint sense of satisfaction rising in his heart—indeed, she was more energetic when she was happy.
"I shall keep it a secret," Hermione said confidently, then glanced at him with expectant eyes, as if she was eager to know how to turn the ruins into a study space.
Draco smiled at her and tapped the sign with the tip of his wand. The area where "Draco" was written on the sign slowly began to glow silver, and the cursive word gradually transformed into the shape of a small silver dragon, swaying slightly in place.
A blush crept across his face as he whispered to her, "You have to give me your hand. I need it to recognize you."
Hermione reached out her hand without hesitation, and he hesitantly and gently took it.
He placed his hand on the back of her hand, interlacing his fingers to press her palm close to the place where the word "Draco" was written. The silver light flickered intensely, and the silver dragon seemed to be swimming in her palm, giving her a tingling, electric sensation. Suddenly, the silver light went out, and the dragon disappeared. The barrier returned to its original silence, and "Draco" stopped moving.
"All right, it recognizes you now," Draco said, releasing her hand, his ears turning slightly red. "When you get close to the word 'Draco,' 'Draco' will open the door for you."
When you get close to Draco, Draco's heart will open for you.
"Close to Draco...with my hand?" Hermione was intrigued by this kind of magic. She bent down to study it, looking in amazement at the quiet word on the barrier, which now looked no different from the other words.
"You can think so." He curled the corner of his mouth, neither confirming nor denying.
"Simple as that?" She turned to look at him, trying to confirm again.
"Give it a try," he said, glancing at her furtively.
Hermione tentatively touched the word "Draco" with her hand. A flash of silver light crossed her palm, and the ruins vanished in an instant. In the blink of an eye, the familiar, comfortable, and classically filled study space reappeared before them.
"Wow!" she said, happily stepping inside.
"Now you know how to get in. Actually, it is near the Ancient Runes bookshelf; just find the shelf with the most dictionaries." Draco walked in behind her with his hands behind his back, saying mysteriously, "Studying by the Black Lake is nice, but it is a bit troublesome if you want to look up books. If you do not want to see those pale-faced classmates, you might as well hide here with me."
He could roughly guess how those Gryffindor students, who cherished the honour of their house, were gossiping about her behind her back.
He had noticed long ago that she had not been to the library in a long time.
The fact that Hermione Granger was not in the library was so unusual that it made him uneasy.
Draco initially quite liked this quiet, secluded place; he preferred to be alone. He did not want to be disturbed by any clueless, foolish students. But he gradually discovered that it was too quiet, and too empty.
This was unbearable for him.
Something is missing. Like a puzzle missing its last piece, or a fine French soup without salt.
Perhaps it was because he lacked someone to talk to, someone clever, lively, and brave who was not afraid of his cold face. He told himself this, trying to find a reason to invite her to share his study space.
This person can often be a quiet companion for reading, or occasionally someone with whom you can have a wise conversation. He sets strict conditions, for fear of making the range of choices too broad.
She must be a Muggle-born girl, and exceptionally talented.
This finally narrowed down the scope.
Who else could it be?
"No one else could do it but her," he thought with satisfaction, and began to brew tea.
On the other hand, the girl who was confined by Draco's elaborate schemes and rules—and ultimately deemed the only one who could invade his territory—was completely oblivious to this.
She was swinging her legs comfortably in the armchair, trying once again to recite the story of the goblin rebellions.
This has nothing to do with social distancing. They are friends. This was friends helping each other out, giving her a quiet place to study. They just wanted to cheer her up. Nothing more.
Draco silently tried to convince himself, suppressing the wild thoughts in his mind, and quietly placed the teacup in front of her.
He watched her pick up the tea he had brewed and sip it, her eyes narrowing contentedly like a kitten that had just found its nest, and she said to him, "Thank you."
Good.
Perhaps he just needs a kitten. Draco thought to himself, he needed the warm companionship of a kitten; its tousled fur seemed so lifelike and vibrant.
As for her brown eyes, they were like the finest piece of wood he could find in winter, always burning with a bright flame.
He felt an overwhelming chill in his heart; his frozen soul was painfully cold. He could not help but want to get closer to the flames to warm himself.
This kitten is clearly more than just a meower; she has many thoughts.
Having just figured out where the study space was, she could not help but start talking about the previous topic of "detention."
"Why do I have to go with Harry? Is there any compelling reason to refuse? It is just detention, why are you being so cautious?" Hermione asked him.
"Potter is in danger," Draco said softly, his grey eyes fixed on her quietly, a flicker of emotion she could not quite define. "Very dangerous. According to reliable sources, you are going to the Forbidden Forest."
He paused, recalling Longbottom, who had been petrified by Hermione.
She executed that move brilliantly! No one is more suited to cast that spell than her.
"You are a very talented wizard, and you will definitely be able to master the Full Body Bind Curse. In fact, if possible, you should let Potter learn it too," he encouraged her.
Hermione lacked confidence and seemed quite worried about it.
"Forbidden Forest!" she exclaimed incredulously, slamming her teacup back onto the table. "We are just first-year students; this is against the rules!"
"Rules are made by people. Do not be afraid, I shall be wearing an Invisibility Cloak and always by your side," Draco reassured her. "I will not let anything happen to you."
"No, Draco, that is too dangerous," Hermione said nervously. "Think about it, if you are caught, you will get points deducted too."
"It is not about points anymore." Draco pretended to look seriously at the chandelier above his head, casually advising Hermione, "Think about Potter. How many people want him dead? It is common knowledge among the faculty that Potter is going to be put in detention. I dare say, if Quirrell wanted to kill him, he would seize this opportunity to go for a stroll in the Forbidden Forest with him."
Hermione pursed her lips and remained silent.
Draco secretly observed her out of the corner of his eye, clearly seeing the changes in her emotions—worry, fear, hesitation, and determination—on her face.
"All right," she finally said. "I surrender. You can come along—just in case."
"Good. Do not tell anyone I am following you. Not even Potter." Draco, still a little worried, repeated the instructions to her.
He tried his best not to let more people know what he had done.
His past life experiences made it difficult for him to let his guard down around people; he considered almost everyone untrustworthy.
Even the saviour Potter.
He is too young to understand the meaning of secrets—he always blindly trusts people.
And then there is Weasley, the big-mouthed fellow, who is not a bad person at heart, really; he is also very outspoken, often.
Hermione, however, remained true to her word and never told anyone his secret.
Hermione frowned, then nodded habitually. She seemed to be finding it increasingly difficult to refuse Draco, even though she knew it was wrong.
However, ever since he saved her from the troll, she has found it difficult to say "no" to him.
Moreover, his methods of violating the rules were usually very clever and not at all reckless. He always got away unscathed and the professors never caught him red-handed, which made it even harder for her to discipline him.