However, the next morning, as Hermione excitedly approached the entrance to the Hospital Wing, she vaguely overheard Draco and Dobby talking.
It was Dobby, the house-elf, who commanded that rogue Bludger! A mix of confusion, anger, and rage welled up inside her.
From Draco's barely concealed anger, she knew he was unaware. And he was seriously injured because of it, was he not?
But she still wanted to take her anger out on him—it was his house-elf who caused all the trouble!
In a panic, she left the Hospital Wing, unsure how to face this bleak and bizarre situation.
After being discharged from the Hospital Wing, Draco became a Slytherin hero because of that spectacular grab.
When Pansy Parkinson, for the third time at the breakfast table, joined Blaise Zabini in praising Draco's skills, Hermione looked up from the next table and glared at Draco with the eyes of someone looking at a traitor, as if silently condemning him.
"All right, sit down. There is nothing to brag about." He uneasily stopped Pansy and Blaise.
"What is with all the modesty? Just keep pretending! Too much modesty is arrogance, you hypocrite!" Pansy rolled her eyes at him.
"Yes, after yesterday's match, many people in the house have been praising you highly. I do not think you need to be so serious," Blaise chimed in. "Look at their eyes!"
Draco glanced around the Slytherin table and saw many people nodding and smiling at him, including several older students. Peregrine's partner, another Beater, Lucian Bole, even shouted at him, "Well done, Draco!"
Draco smiled at him, then lowered his head.
It was not that he did not enjoy being recognised by his arrogant teammates, but at the same time, he felt very uncomfortable.
He never imagined in his two lifetimes that the out-of-control, rogue Bludger was actually Dobby's doing.
If we took a slightly conspiracy-theoretic approach, people would say that this was deliberately orchestrated by Draco, just to achieve that "despicable victory."
In his past life, Draco did not care about the means to achieve victory.
The idea that any means necessary would achieve a goal was a common cultural element in Slytherin. In his past life, Draco was also influenced by his seniors, for example, by impersonating a Dementor to scare Potter.
But he finally realised that a victory obtained by any means necessary could neither justify the outcome nor earn people's genuine respect.
What Draco wanted was genuine recognition from others, not contempt.
Now, across the table, Hermione's disdainful glance rendered the approving looks from everyone at the Slytherin table meaningless, and also made all the sweat, effort, and even the thirty-four broken bones he had put into Quidditch seem pointless.
That was awful.
He had no idea how much Hermione had overheard outside the Hospital Wing. Clearly, it was enough to provoke her displeasure with him.
Her attitude towards him was becoming increasingly cold, distant, and indifferent.
However, Harry seemed completely unconcerned about it.
When he encountered Draco in the corridor, he greeted him cheerfully, "How is it going? Have all the bones healed?"
"All right," Draco said cautiously, "it is nothing serious."
"Very good," Harry said in a low voice. "I think I know more about the Basilisk. Hermione told me a bit. We all think it is very likely that the theory is true."
"In that case, you should be careful and stop chasing after that sound," Draco advised him. "It is too dangerous."
"Hermione said so too," Harry said. "But now that I can hear it, should I not do something about it? It is hurting people everywhere."
"Then why do you not first work out how to deal with the Basilisk?" Draco said. "Going head-on without preparation is tantamount to suicide. Besides, I am still wondering how the Basilisk manages to roam around the school without being detected."
"Yes, do some research." Harry nodded, looking quite agreeable.
That is strange. Hermione does not seem to have told Harry about Dobby. Draco observed Harry's open expression and grew suspicious.
Otherwise, there would never have been such a sincere smile in those emerald green eyes.
What is she really thinking? Why is she so cold to me yet keeps my secrets?
Does she dislike me or not?
Hermione Granger was like an unfathomable, brownish enigma. He could not fathom her every move.
Draco stared at her straight back as she sat in the front row, feeling increasingly uneasy and confused.
On Thursday during Potions class, Draco finally could not resist trying to explain Dobby to Hermione. But she nimbly darted past him, head held high, ignoring him, and went straight to the back of the classroom to sit down, partnering with Neville Longbottom, that annoying Potions idiot.
Is he even worse than Neville Longbottom? he thought bitterly.
So Draco retreated once again, like a snail retreating into its shell.
His face was ashen, and his mind was focused on the Swelling Solution that Professor Snape had assigned.
That class was a disaster.
At the front of the classroom, Goyle's cauldron inexplicably exploded, splashing half of the class with the solution.
Luckily, she ran to the back; otherwise, that proud little face would have been hurt. As he went to Professor Snape to get the Deflating Draught, he could not help but think—little girls care most about their faces.
Oh, forget it! Worry about yourself, she does not need your concern at all. Draco interrupted his thoughts, applying draught to his nose whilst thinking viciously.
She would even be willing to partner with Neville Longbottom and leave you behind!
So he ignored the suspicious switch on the door at the back of the Potions classroom, ignored the small figure, and ignored the Bicorn horn and Boomslang skin she was holding.
Merlin, please! Hermione Granger, the most well-behaved student in Gryffindor, has actually stolen the Slytherin Head of House's private stores—an absolutely astonishing feat!
Yes, the turmoil in Potions class was something she forced Harry and Ron to create, that is it!
Everything was for that cauldron of Polyjuice Potion still simmering in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.