Hermione Granger decided to brew Polyjuice Potion, regardless of whether Harry and Ron supported it or not, and regardless of whether the process would violate the school rules.
"Those Slytherins must know something," she said confidently to Harry and Ron, standing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with a frown.
She wanted to enter the Slytherin common room to see if she could find out anything about the Slytherin heir; if she was lucky enough, she also wanted to sneak into the dormitory of that particular Slytherin boy and find Herpo's notebook to see what other terrible things were written in it.
Harry and Ron were sceptical of her theories about Draco. They also did not support her taking such a big risk by brewing some "Polyjuice Potion" based on a baseless suspicion.
"Just ask him!" Ron said impatiently, glancing around the gloomy bathroom. "He will definitely be willing to tell you something; he always thinks highly of you. By the way, are you two still having a fight?"
"He will not tell me! He will not even tell me the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, let alone something as secret as this. And…" Hermione hesitated, not finishing her sentence.
There were many things he asked her to keep secret, and he always kept them hidden from her.
"What else?" Harry asked curiously.
"Nothing! You do not think someone who is the heir to the Chamber of Secrets would be foolish enough to go around telling everyone, do you? They would definitely keep quiet!" Hermione said.
"But rather than Draco being the heir, his father is more suspicious. He is more like the kind of Chamber heir Salazar favours than Draco…" Ron said, his face flushed.
Harry shrugged in agreement.
"Fine, so be it," Hermione said sternly.
Hermione knew her idea was mad—but she could not help it.
She had to do this, or her heart would be like a cauldron of boiling potion, never finding peace until it boiled dry.
She was not being delusional. She already knew the contents of Moste Potente Potions inside and out, and of course she knew how to brew Polyjuice Potion. It was Draco who had recommended the book to her—and she was contemptuously using his recommendation against him.
Whenever she thought about this, a feeling of self-loathing welled up inside her.
"I hope I am just overthinking it!" Hermione prayed silently.
Draco might be innocent and have nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets. He did not seem like an evil boy at all.
He had absolutely nothing to do with evil. He looked as pure and innocent as a unicorn.
Perhaps he was just a bit aloof and liked to maintain his mysterious nature, right? she wondered.
However, she could not accept "perhaps".
She needed to be one hundred per cent sure about this!
With a mix of trepidation and excitement, Hermione, carrying the book Moste Potente Potions, a pile of potion ingredients, a cauldron, a stirring rod, and other miscellaneous items, pushed open the door to the long-neglected girls' bathroom.
Myrtle was sobbing in her cubicle. She had been mocked by Peeves today, who said she had "pimples all over her face," which made her extremely sad and reminded her of some miserable past experiences of being ostracised.
"Myrtle, are you all right?" Hermione asked hesitantly to the ghost in the cubicle.
Upon hearing this greeting, the long-haired, bespectacled ghost immediately stopped crying.
"Oh, Hermione, you are here again." She wiped away her tears, patted her cheeks, and secretly glanced behind her. "The two boys who came with you yesterday, are they not here today?"
"You mean Harry and Ron?" Hermione found a relatively dry spot and carefully arranged the bottles and jars. "They think boys should not come to the girls' bathroom so often. Were you not a little upset about that yesterday?"
"Indeed, they are right," Myrtle said with a worried look, regretting her earlier words. "But, to be honest—since they have already come once, it does not really matter."
"Oh, I will ask them next time, all right?" Hermione said.
Myrtle nodded, and suddenly became happy.
She pushed up her glasses, which would not slip off her face, and floated around Hermione, asking curiously, "What are you planning to do here? Brew potions?"
"Yes. I think it might be quieter here. You do not mind, do you?" Hermione asked her.
"That is all right. Feel free to use any of the other cubicles besides my private one," Myrtle said listlessly.
She stopped crying and went back into the toilet tank, floating up and humming an out-of-tune old song.
Hermione carefully set up her cauldron and, with Myrtle's voice playing in the background, went over the ingredients for brewing Polyjuice Potion again in the book: lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass... as well as powdered Bicorn horn... shredded Boomslang skin... and a little something from the person she wanted to become.
"The fluxweed has to be picked on the day of the full moon… the lacewing flies need to be stewed for twenty-one days… the horn of the Bicorn is not easy to obtain… as for things like the Boomslang skin, I am afraid I can only try to get my hands on Professor Snape's private stores—I hope he does not catch me and turn me into a toad," Hermione murmured.
And so, Hermione began brewing Polyjuice Potion alone, filled with despair and doubt for Draco and a sense of unease.
To some extent, she hoped to prove herself wrong through this incident.
She hoped more than anyone else that her reasoning was wrong.
However, until she worked all of this out, it was difficult for her to return to the days when they trusted each other and laughed together.
In the days that followed, Hermione and Draco's relationship reached a stalemate.
Although the two were still partners in Transfiguration class, it was as if there was an invisible ice wall between them. In Harry's words, anyone who accidentally got too close to them would be chilled to the bone by the atmosphere.
Draco could sense that Hermione was keeping her distance from him and seemed determined not to make any eye contact with him.
Her cold and arrogant attitude made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.
She would not even look at him directly, nor would she touch him in the slightest, as if he were a slug!
Of course! The Gryffindors, who pride themselves on being bright and righteous, would certainly not want to associate with the evil Slytherin, Draco thought wearily.
In recent days, students from the other three houses had been subconsciously keeping their distance from the Slytherin students, as if the air around them were poisonous; many rumours had been circulating, with people believing that the evil students from Slytherin were behind it all.
She was probably no exception.
"You do not have to force yourself." He stared at her tense profile and said coldly, "If you want to change your study partner, just tell me. I fully understand."
"I do not understand what you are talking about," Hermione said, staring at her wand like an emotionless spellcasting puppet.
She was suppressing herself; she could not look at him.
She had to suppress herself. The boy was too deceptive.
If he were just a little nicer to her, smiled at her, or even if he did not smile but simply said a few more words to her casually, all suspicion about him would be dispelled.
Then, she would probably immediately stop what she was doing and become immersed in the gentle and comfortable atmosphere he had created, never finding the suspect who opened the Chamber of Secrets.
"What I mean is, if sitting with 'evil Slytherins' makes you so uncomfortable and unbearable, you can leave." Draco chuckled, lowering his grey eyes, which were filled with a faint sadness. "Why make things difficult for yourself and wallow in self-pity?"
"Are you trying to get rid of me? I think you do not want to be my partner any more, do you? You think I am not good enough for you, right?" Hermione raised her eyes angrily, wanting to glare at him, but found that he was no longer looking at her.
He finally revealed his true colours. He will not even look me in the eye any more.
He feels that I, a Muggle-born witch, am unworthy of learning magic, unworthy of being his partner, and even unworthy of making eye contact with him. Is that what he means?
"Quite sharp-tongued, and quick to turn the tables." Draco said with a blank face, wondering if her saying "unworthy" was mocking him, as he turned the mouse that Professor McGonagall had given him into a magnificent goblet. "Say what you want. Do as you please."
"Very well." Hermione stared blankly at her goblet, her face pale. "I will change partners next class and give that 'noble' Slytherin young master some peace!"
"Very good." Draco said wearily, stealing a glance at her. Looking at her haughty profile, he felt she was both so close and so far away, and his heart clenched. "I could not ask for more."
Hermione probably does not want to be with me any more.