Hermione Granger had no idea what Draco was thinking at that moment.
She was busy thinking about something: there were always some magic books on his desk that were not in his textbooks.
For example, at this moment, he suddenly picked up a book called A Thousand Magical Transforms, opened it, glanced at it, and then casually put it down.
He seemed to casually place the book between their desks. Then, busy waving his wand, seemingly trying to practise his extra homework of "turning animals into goblets," he did not look at the book again.
Hermione stared intently at the book, secretly swallowing hard.
She was curious to see what the book was about.
It might offer some tips on Transfiguration, enriching her understanding of the art.
But would he be willing to lend it to her to look at?
As she hesitated, Draco turned and glanced at her, saying calmly, "Why are you not practising? Is something wrong?"
She looked up at him and said guiltily, "No."
Draco nodded, saying nothing more, and seemingly unaware of what she was concerned about, continuing to focus on his Transfiguration spell practice.
However, by sheer coincidence, during practice, his elbow seemed to accidentally, little by little, push the book towards her.
Hermione could not hold back any longer.
"Um, Draco, if it is all right, could I take a look at this book?" she hurriedly added, looking at the boy's inscrutable profile, "if you have finished reading it."
As the school bell rang suddenly, Draco turned around and stared at her intently.
"I have not finished reading it. I am going to read it again today," he said slowly.
Hermione's expectant face immediately fell.
"Oh," she said dejectedly, hurriedly stuffing the quill and textbook from the table into her bag, her eyes still lingering on the book.
After a couple of seconds, she heard the boy next to her say casually, "I shall be going to the library later. You can read there if you want."
Hermione's eyes lit up immediately.
"Then, shall we go to the library together in a little while?" she asked him cheerfully.
"Hmm," he said briefly, lowering his head to tidy up the things on his desk, a secret smile playing on the other corner of his mouth.
So Hermione Granger, who had sworn this morning to distance herself from Draco Malfoy, was back in her private study, engrossed in the book she had been longing for.
"Oh, I see." A moment later, she put down her book and cast a Transformation spell on the beetle on the table, finally obtaining a button that satisfied her.
"Look, how about this button?" She proudly placed it in front of him. "How does it compare to the button I turned into before?"
Draco, who appeared to be writing an essay, paused, glanced at the button, and smiled slightly.
"It is even better than before," he said. "It is amazing."
So she grunted in agreement, gloated for a second or two, and then immediately picked up the book again to continue studying the trick of the "animal to goblet" Transformation spell.
Yes, Hermione Granger is never satisfied with her current achievements, Draco thought to himself.
That is impressive quality, especially for a thirteen-year-old girl.
Not everyone can shake off complacency and constantly reflect on themselves to pursue excellence.
How could Draco, who had been given a second chance at life, easily give up?
Especially when there is such a girl beside him who is obsessed with excellence, eyeing everything and wanting to surpass everyone else and take the top spot in the year.
Draco could only work twice as hard.
He still needs to put in continuous effort. He needs to fill in the knowledge gaps that he had previously overlooked.
He needed to constantly strive for excellence, because of a certain competitiveness awakened by her, because of the pride and ambition in his bones, and because of the insecurity and urgency that always hung over his head.
He cannot afford to lose.
There is a saying that goes something like this: you have to work really hard to look effortless.
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By October, Draco was not surprised to find that Harry seemed to dislike Lockhart even more, and he would try to stick close to the wall and avoid him whenever he saw Lockhart.
Even so, Draco still managed to bump into Harry several times looking embarrassed—he was always being dragged along by Lockhart for a glamorous photograph in the corridor.
There was also an annoying first-year who was always surrounding Harry with a camera and taking a great many photographs of him—often the kind of photographs of him awkwardly dodging.
Is that annoying bloke named Colin Creevey? Draco sighed and decided to ignore him.
There was nothing he could do to help.
This was perhaps the so-called "celebrity troubles" that Harry himself had to face.
The reason Draco was too busy to attend to this was that he himself was extremely busy.
He needed to participate in Slytherin's Quidditch practice three times a week as the Seeker, which was exhausting.
It was not that he was afraid of getting tired. In his previous life, he had participated in a great deal of arduous Quidditch training—it was more enjoyable than tiring.
The wonderful sensations that flight brought always captivated Draco.
The twists and turns between the goalposts, the darting and weaving through the air on the pitch, the thrilling and sudden dives—all these gave him a faint sense of proof that he was still alive—a vitality that had been resurrected from the dead.