It was late autumn in October, but it felt as if a warm April breeze was blowing towards him, and a small section of the frozen riverbed cracked open with a ridiculous "crack".
As Hermione said, Draco did not get into the team entirely by donating brooms, which would be underestimating the ambition of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
This concerned the honour and disgrace of the entire house for the whole year; how could it be treated so lightly?
People generally thought of Slytherin captain Flint as rude and uncouth—and to some extent that was true—but he was also a very responsible and ambitious captain.
Flint wanted Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup more than anyone else. All the players were rigorously selected by him, including Draco, the Seeker.
Money and financial support could win the favour of a Slytherin, and perhaps even grant them a ticket to participate in the selection process; but ability was the decisive factor in earning the respect of a Slytherin.
But people often overlooked a Slytherin's effort, talent, and hard work.
It seemed that the phrase "any means necessary" could sum up everything about Slytherin.
Hermione secretly glanced at the boy with his head down. His profile was shrouded in the shadow cast by the bookshelf, and although she could not see his expression, she could feel the sadness emanating from him in the silence.
"Oh, right, Draco, I am here to thank you for the birthday present—" she wisely changed the subject, pretending not to see the glistening in his eyes, her tone cheerful, "a very useful pair of Omnioculars."
"I am glad you like it." Draco composed himself, looked up, and said with a sudden enthusiasm, "This is the latest model. You will find it particularly useful in Quidditch matches; they have used the latest lenses, making it much clearer than the old telescopes."
Hermione stared intently at his face, and only when she saw that he seemed to have stopped bothering about the gossiping students did she feel relieved and happily nodded.
Noticing the dictionary Draco was holding, she asked with interest, "Is this Ancient Greek? I did not know Hogwarts had such a course."
"It is not part of the school curriculum, it is just some extracurricular research," Draco explained to her as he walked towards his private space.
"It is a very special hobby," Hermione said, catching up. She felt she should not leave him alone now. At least, someone should talk to him a little longer.
So she adopted a surprised tone and extended the conversation, saying, "I thought no one but me would like this language."
Draco raised an eyebrow and glanced at her. "It sounds like you speak Ancient Greek."
"Just a little bit. My mother used to take an elective course in Ancient Greek, and she always loved reading Dante and Plato in Ancient Greek as my bedtime stories…" Hermione said calmly, but Draco sensed her slight boastfulness.
Mrs Granger, who seems gentle and kind, is being a bit too strict with her daughter, is she not? Do not underestimate Draco's knowledge of Muggles.
Most Muggle children probably listened to bedtime stories like Snow White, right?
However, at this moment, Mrs Granger's approach to raising children proved to be very beneficial and a pleasant surprise.
"Very impressive," Draco said seriously, satisfying the little girl's vanity.
"Then, could you please translate this for me? What does this passage say?" He took out a page from his little black book and carefully handed it to Hermione.
Hermione was clearly a little smug; she was glad she could help Draco. Helping him in some way—perhaps the best way to ease her sympathy and worry for him.
"I can give it a try. Come on, take that dictionary, let us look at it together," she said enthusiastically.
And so, a fluffy little head with brown hair and a smooth little head with platinum blonde hair leaned side by side on that comfortable and spacious sofa, engrossed in the ocean of Ancient Greek.
After an afternoon of work, the text was finally presented to Draco in a language he could understand, with clear logic.
"I was born in a remote village on the Mediterranean coast, and people called me Herpo. I was captivated by the wonder and intricacy of magic, and I discovered many fascinating things. They called it heresy, evil. But what is wrong with magic? I enjoy the joy of exploration. If anyone sees my notes, sees my achievements, please pass them on, do not bury them. Remember, it is not magic itself that is wrong, but the people who use it to do wrong..."
"I have heard of him!" Hermione's brown eyes gleamed in the firelight. "That could be Herpo the Foul, that Dark wizard from one hundred AD. I have read about him in a book!"
"Really? Tell me more about him," Draco said with interest.
This is truly remarkable! She actually knows things that I do not, Hermione thought.
"I stumbled upon that book whilst just passing the time," she recalled the passage softly. "Herpo the Foul was an ancient Greek Dark wizard. He was one of the earliest known Dark wizards, and many of his studies still influence Dark magic today. He is known as the first wizard to create a Basilisk, and for that reason. In addition, he invented many evil curses and became the first wizard to successfully create Horcruxes. He was also one of the earliest Parselmouths."
The amount of information was overwhelming. Draco looked bewildered, his mind reeling. It not only involved the Horcrux knowledge appearing in the notes, but even mentioned the Basilisk.
So, the problems that had appeared at Hogwarts in the past two years were basically dug by Herpo before one hundred AD.
"Hermione, you are amazing. Your knowledge is so vast that sometimes I feel like you are not a Muggle-born witch…" Draco said sincerely after a moment of hesitation.
He had never paid attention to the name "Herpo" in either of his lives.
If it were not for her reminder, he might not have realised how important the little black book in his secret room was.
"Where did you get this text from?" Hermione asked, watching him warily.
"I saw it in a notebook," Draco said briefly. "I can show it to you next time if you are interested."
"Why would you think I am interested in evil Dark magic?" Hermione asked with a look of disgust, and then seriously advised him, "I suggest you do not try to learn about it either; it sounds dangerous."
"Of course, I will not actually do it; I just want to learn about it," Draco said.
Hermione did not believe him; instead, her expression became even more suspicious.
Under her intense gaze, Draco knew she had not given up on her suspicions about him. His eyes darted around, and he countered, "So, when you encounter something new and unfamiliar, your first reaction is not to explore, but to run away?"
"That is not quite right. Of course I am curious too. There were several terms in that description that I did not quite understand, like Horcruxes. I have never heard of them before, and I could not find them in the library." Hermione's face showed a look of doubt.
"It is probably some kind of evil Dark magic," Draco said somewhat awkwardly, giving Hermione a vague answer.
He did not really want her to know too much about Horcruxes; it was too dangerous for her.
She had better not be in danger.
Even just swooning over Lockhart was better than studying Horcruxes, Draco thought through gritted teeth.
But in Hermione's eyes, this attitude was somewhat evasive. Moreover, he admitted that his research involved "evil Dark magic."
As a result, she looked at him with even more suspicion and uncertainty, as if she were seeing him for the first time.
Just as she was arguing for him, believing that he had nothing to do with evil, she seemed to discover his unknown evil hobbies.
She was not sure if she could understand the merits of this wicked hobby.
Draco braced himself for Hermione's scrutiny, not intending to explain further.
He tried to focus all his attention on Herpo's notes.
Who translated that passage about Horcruxes from English?
Draco sincerely hoped that it would be anyone but the Dark Lord.
It was not impossible for the Dark Lord to translate it, Draco thought. After all, before the first downfall, the Dark Lord had always favoured the Malfoy family, perhaps not only because of their connections, wealth, and methods, but also because of their rich background in Dark magic.
"So, what is a Parselmouth?" Hermione persisted, her eyes still glancing at the paper.
"Oh, I do know that. A Parselmouth refers to people who can speak in the language of snakes and communicate with snakes." Draco carefully put away the parchment filled with translations, deciding not to let her read any further.
Hermione Granger, with her boundless curiosity as abundant as her thick hair and her frighteningly active mind, bombarded him with a barrage of pointed questions that left him somewhat overwhelmed.
"This is an extremely rare ability, and few wizards can master it. The last wizard known for his Parselmouth ability was Salazar Slytherin." He thought for a moment, then briefly told her some information, attempting to bluff his way through.
Actually, those were just superficial contents that could be found in Hogwarts: A History.
Parselmouth. If Hermione had just looked it up in the books, she would have known that amongst modern wizards, the Dark Lord was a well-known Parselmouth.
In his past life, at Malfoy Manor, the Dark Lord was always inseparable from the giant snake named Nagini, hissing at it in a language no one could understand.
Another Parselmouth that was about to become world-famous was Harry Potter.
Perhaps, he should subtly remind Harry at the appropriate time, at least to prevent him from revealing the secret in front of everyone and being gossiped about by those ignorant students who believed everything they heard—especially the Hufflepuffs.
After all, being misunderstood was not a pleasant experience, even if some of the misunderstood information was based on basic facts. Draco smiled bitterly and fell into deep thought.