Draco had originally planned to spend his Christmas holidays at Malfoy Manor.
But Narcissa had been in low spirits since her grandfather passed away this year, so Lucius decided to take her skiing in Switzerland during the Christmas holidays.
"...Stay in the common room during the holiday and do not go out and wander around unless necessary." Lucius's letter to him contained only these few words of concern.
Of the three hundred and sixty-five days in a year, they have to go skiing in Switzerland at Christmas.
Or rather, they just do not want me to disturb their time together, right? Draco thought irritably.
But that was fine, he just happened to have some research to do.
Without Hermione's help, translating Herpo's notebook became exceptionally difficult.
This little book alone took up a great deal of his time.
Hermione Granger. He did not know how to treat this clever but awkward little witch.
First she trusted him, then she distrusted him; then she became indifferent to him, as if trying to draw a line between them; then she blew up the rogue Bludger, as if she was worried about him; next, she even planned to visit him at the Hospital Wing; now, she misunderstood him and seemed even angrier and colder towards him.
This fickle attitude left him filled with both hope and despair; he occasionally wanted to act impulsively but often hesitated at the last minute.
Draco Malfoy, a cowardly man feigning arrogance, has no choice but to run away.
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At the Christmas feast, the table was laden with delicious food that made almost everyone's mouth water.
The students enjoyed their delicious food whilst studying the Christmas trees that stood around the Great Hall with great interest. They were adorned with glittering icicles or twinkling candlelight.
Draco managed to eat a little, but he did not have much of an appetite. He glanced casually at the Gryffindor table across the way, not noticing the little girl's face, but not daring to look at her closely any further.
With a sigh, he left Crabbe and Goyle, who were still wolfing down their food, and greeted Blaise and Pansy, who were bickering, before returning alone to the Slytherin common room.
Slytherin's common room was a long, narrow, low basement with walls and ceilings made of rough stone, and round, green-glowing lamps hanging from the ceiling by chains.
It was exactly the same as before.
The only unusual thing was that Draco discovered that Pansy was furtively rummaging through his Ancient Greek practice book on the carved table in the common room.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked, frowning.
"It is nothing, Draco." The Pansy was startled; her demeanour bore no resemblance to the Pansy Draco knew.
The real Pansy should still be in the Great Hall, arguing with Blaise.
Once these two "nitpickers" started arguing, it could take at least an hour to finish. How could their battle have ended so quickly today?
Besides, someone like Pansy Parkinson would not be startled by a question like this.
She would only haughtily spew out a bunch of sarcastic remarks, never offering a reasonable explanation for her behaviour—like the "I am looking for my extracurricular book" that the girl in front of him was saying.
"Is it your copy of Quidditch Through the Ages?" Draco looked her over, then suddenly smiled.
She is up to something.
"Yes. That is the one." The fake Pansy was flustered by his deceptive smile.
For a moment she was completely speechless, and could only nod blankly, putting on an expression of agreement.
Merlin, this is increasingly unlike anything Pansy would say.
The fake Pansy's innocent, dazed expression was like a cat caught on a sticky mousetrap, making people laugh without even realising it. Draco thought to himself, widening his smile a few notches.
"I found it. It is in my dormitory. Go get it now," Draco said briefly.
He paused for a moment, a perfectly timed smile on his face, and turned to lead the way. He noticed that Pansy did not even know where the entrances to the boys' and girls' dormitories were, and was standing there in a daze—it seemed she was not from Slytherin house.
Draco was all too familiar with such "tricks".
In that unforgettable dark period of his past life, you never knew whether the loved one in front of you was a Death Eater in disguise.
With just a single hair and a few sips of Polyjuice Potion, you could be tricked into revealing your deepest secrets to a stranger without any defences.
It was surprising that in these peaceful times, someone would resort to such tricks. Perhaps it was a Death Eater accustomed to Dark magic, or a Death Eater's child.
After turning around, his smile vanished instantly. He became alert, watching the movements behind him, gripping his wand tightly, ready to attack at any moment.
Although, it was very likely that this was just a farce.
He could roughly deduce from these few sentences that she was young, unfamiliar with the internal structure of Slytherin, and did not seem like a habitual offender.
Clearly, she lacked experience in disguising herself, and those behavioural flaws were as clear as a sieve to him.
This level of disguise and probing was unlikely to come from a dangerous enemy; it seemed more like a prank by a lovesick female student from another house.
The reason for taking "fake Pansy" away was that he wanted to find a private place to interrogate her.
He did not overlook the fact that this "fake Pansy" was particularly interested in his things.
Since his rebirth, Draco had always acted cautiously. Although he maintained a certain arrogant demeanour characteristic of the Malfoy family, he avoided showing off unless necessary, tried to control his temper, and refrained from making unnecessary enemies.
Even so, was he still being targeted by someone? Could it be that someone else had also been reborn and noticed his unusual behaviour? Just thinking about these possibilities made him break out in a cold sweat.
Regardless of whether it was a prank or not, he wanted to find out the reason behind it.
"Let us go," he said softly. "It will not take you more than a few minutes."
Fake Pansy hesitated for a moment, then, persuaded by his gentle voice, followed Draco into a magnificent single dormitory. She saw the words "Draco Malfoy" engraved in cursive script on the antique door.
The boy seemed to do something to the door, and soon opened it.
"Please come in," he said briefly, sounding casual and completely unsuspecting of her.
Fake Pansy curiously peered into the open dormitory, a look of inquiry on her face. She could not resist following him inside; at that moment, curiosity overcame her wariness.
Unexpectedly, as soon as they entered, the boy with the kind smile in front of her waved his wand and closed the door.
She was horrified and realised something was wrong.
The situation suddenly changed. The boy's smile vanished abruptly. He grabbed her collar, pressed her against the door, and held his wand firmly to her nose, demanding dangerously, "Who are you?"
"What do you mean… I do not understand…" she said with difficulty.
He was incredibly strong, showing her no mercy whatsoever; she coughed as he choked her.
Good heavens! I have never seen him so fierce! He appears cold and ruthless, even murderous, and for a moment I feel extremely dangerous.
This sent chills down her spine and made her heart pound.
"I had no idea since when Pansy had become so interested in Quidditch," Draco said with a sneer.
He narrowed his pale grey eyes, bringing his delicate face closer to hers, trying to find more clues in her tense expression.
He is too close to me! she thought, her face starting to flush.
At one point, she could even feel his intense breath. His expression was downright wicked, as if he were about to test the most terrifying Dark magic spells on her at any moment.
She wanted to back away, but behind her was the door to his dormitory. The uneven pattern made her back ache.
In her panic, she was unable to move. The boy she had once thought had a gentle core was now devoid of gentleness, filled instead with malice and oppression.
She finally saw another side of him—his evil side.
Today, she finally realised that her previous perception of him was seriously flawed.
She finally realised that he had treated her differently before—even when they had disagreements, he had never suppressed her like this. He had never shown her true aggression until this moment.
Only when she was in someone else's face could she feel his ferocity, his cruelty, and his aggression, and only then did she truly feel a sense of fear.
She could only truly understand how ruthless he was to others when he was in someone else's presence. In comparison, he was incredibly careful and gentle with her.
Why?
Why does he treat me differently from others?
Hermione was puzzled, but she did not have time to think about it any further; she was being choked so badly she could hardly breathe.
She had already been exposed; there was no point in pretending any more.
Before being hurt by his wand, before being choked by him, or rather, before he got any closer to her, she wanted to reclaim some of her dignity.
"Let me go, Draco!" she said, enraged.
Her voice was no longer Pansy Parkinson's, but Hermione Granger's.