Chapter 31: 3-1

Taking us, the first ones to discover the scene, and Harry and the others who arrived slightly after, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape moved to Lockhart's office while soothing a frantic Filch. —Naturally, the prime suspects were Draco and me. Even Professor Snape couldn't hide his conflicted gaze toward Draco Malfoy, the star student of his own House.

After Dumbledore diagnosed that Mrs. Norris wasn't dead but Petrified, the questioning of us who were at the scene began.

"Why were you wandering the third-floor corridor instead of attending the Halloween feast?"

"Um, we were at the Deathday Party. The ghosts can vouch for us."

"But there should have been time after that. What reason could you possibly have to go out of your way to the third floor..."

"—They were looking for us. Searching every inch of Hogwarts, you see."

It was Draco who threw a lifeline to Harry, who was being persistently interrogated by Professor Snape. —But with that phrasing...

"...I see. Then where exactly were you two, and what were you doing? You aren't going to say you were attending another ghost's Deathday Party, are you?"

Professor Snape looked intensely conflicted. Leaving me aside, he surely wanted to protect Draco, a student of his own House. But the situation wouldn't allow it. —That's how serious this was.

"Maria doesn't really... like 'October 31st'. She said she wasn't in the mood to celebrate at a feast—so I invited her to spend it just the two of us. ...Yes, entirely alone."

Hermione's ears turned a slight, glowing red. Draco was smiling provocatively, not looking at all like a twelve-year-old.

"...And so, you went to the third-floor corridor?"

"We were simply looking for a place to be alone. ...You aren't going to ask the meaning of a rendezvous between a boy and a girl at this point, are you?"

He smoothly and suggestively intertwined his fingers with mine. Just like that, his ice-gray eyes narrowed hotly at me, as if saying, Right?

Honestly, that is not the face of a twelve-year-old. Hide your sex appeal, seriously. Even Harry and Ron are turning bright red.

"...Do you have anything to prove this?"

"Of course not. We were together—just the two of us—the entire time. Unlike those three there, we have no alibi."

Clatter—a chair shook violently. It was Filch. His swollen, tear-stained eyes blazed with hatred as he glared at Draco.

"It's you! You're the culprit! You Slytherin! You're the Heir! You knew—that I'm a 'Squib'! You're friendly with Harry Potter, you heard it from Harry Potter, didn't you!?"

Harry, suddenly named, looked completely bewildered, but it seemed he wasn't entirely without a clue. ...Which means, this Harry also read the letter addressed to Filch without permission. I made that mistake too, but I'll need to have a talk with him about privacy later.

"I didn't do anything like..."

"That was the Chamber of Secrets! And you're a Slytherin! One of the cleverest in Slytherin! You are the Heir!!"

Dumbledore finally stopped Filch as he tried to lunge at Draco. Dumbledore smiled even at me, who was about to draw my wand, saying, "Innocent until proven guilty."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were pale, watching Draco observe the situation with an eerily calm demeanor. Draco was smiling with the commanding presence of a king.

Honestly, you are... ugh.

Stifling a sigh, I squeezed back the hand Draco had intertwined with mine.

—Thus, the prime suspect became Draco Malfoy.

"Cheap theatrics."

"Don't sulk like that."

On the way back to our dormitories, I was dropping prickly, sarcastic remarks.

"If the eyes of surveillance are on me, it's easier for you and Harry to move around. It's the best choice, right? Fortunately, I was suspected the exact same way last time. This time, I just volunteered myself."

"...I hate that about you."

"I'm tired of hearing it."

I lightly punched the shoulder of the nihilistically smiling Draco.

Doing something so stupid. Putting such calculations second—even though it was really just to protect Harry.

For a self-centered, pureblood Slytherin, he risks his life for his parents. He'd face the ruin of his house for his wife. He'd race through the past for his child. For his family, he is more willing to embrace self-sacrifice than anyone else. That is Draco Malfoy.

I really hate that about him.

"...When we get back, I'll check the diary again."

"...Yeah. I'm counting on you. I'll try probing Ginny. ...I thought she would be alright, though."

"I thought so too. ...Don't let it get to you. Your wife is strong. Darkness preys on loneliness, but Ginny Weasley was never lonely. Right?"

"—She's not my wife."

I stopped walking.

"She's Harry's wife."

Draco stopped too. His turning back seemed awfully slow.

"You—"

"Draco Malfoy. You make sure you hold onto her hand. —Don't let Astoria go."

You, who selfishly embraces self-sacrifice. You, who tries to stick with me to the very end. —I won't let you drag yourself down with me out of mere pity.

"Are you... sure about that? You..."

"I love Ginny. I don't care what form it takes. —We, more than anyone, should know a person who single-mindedly harbored a love that would never reach its destination, shouldn't we?"

Words of love or confessions would never reach. The other person would neither smile nor get angry. A person who lived solely for memories, lingering scents, and the one left behind.

'I' kept watching that person's back. Even if it was out of hatred—I was definitely looking at you. You, who cried, "Look at me."

"Don't do anything as foolish as holding back. You once lectured 'me' that Albus needed Scorpius and me. So, let me say this to you. —Scorpius, who will be born in the future, absolutely needs you."

With a little distance between us, and a little time given to us—Draco nodded.

"Yeah. I won't pity you, and I won't hold back. —I'll choose properly."

Against the night sky devoid of meaningless neon lights, his blond hair looked as dazzling as a painting.

From the next day on, there wasn't a day where I didn't hear the words 'Chamber of Secrets'. In the first place, the moment something is given the name 'secret', it is no longer a secret. Not at Hogwarts.

And Draco was thoroughly avoided. By everyone except Slytherin students. By Slytherins, he was praised like a hero. Now that the Black family, the royalty of the wizarding world, had declined, the Malfoy name carried too much weight.

Even Hermione and Ron seemed awkward—when originally, it was Harry who was in that position.

I, being close to Draco, was also somewhat avoided by Muggle-born students, but this didn't bother me in the slightest. ...'I' know a far more intense emptiness.

Draco neither denied nor confirmed it. He simply maintained a stance of quiet observation. That only added to its believability.

"Hello, Prince of Slytherin. Or should I call you Lord Heir now?"

"Hello, Princess of Gryffindor suffering the collateral damage. If you call me the Heir, it will certainly confirm the rumors."

"...Who's the one suffering collateral damage here? Smart aleck."

"Look who's talking."

I sat down next to him, alone on the bench. Just a little while ago, we had to use enchanted parchment just to barely avoid people's eyes, but now, everyone disappears just because he's there, which makes things easy. ...It's utterly ridiculous.

"Just say you're lonely, Draco."

"What's this all of a sudden? Have you forgotten? How much the past me yearned to be the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Yeah. We also thought for sure it was Malfoy. That's why we drank Polyjuice Potion and transformed into Crabbe and Goyle... ah."

"Huh? ...Wait, that was you guys!? No wonder they were acting weird... You really pulled one over on me!"

"Let's just say the statute of limitations has passed."

I chuckled at Draco, who leaned forward in dumbfounded shock. I can't believe he genuinely never realized. Our acting skills weren't half bad. ...Right, 'my' Ron?

"Honestly, you are... and Weasley too."

"By the way, Hermione was the mastermind."

"........."

Surprisingly, she's the one who proposes the big schemes, you know? Precisely because she has the knowledge to back it up.

"Hey, Draco."

"...What is it."

"Just say out loud that you're lonely."

"This again. I told you earlier, I'm perfectly fine with the current—"

"That was the Draco Malfoy of the past. —The current Draco Malfoy is different. Isn't he?"

Draco quietly closed his mouth.

I didn't back down. Because—'I' know.

"You've become a person who understands pain. ...It hurts, doesn't it?"

"...Maria."

"'I' was in pain. I was sad. ...Let me comfort you. To comfort 'me'."

I opened my arms. Eventually, that fragile blond hair dropped softly against my chest.

"...You're a very unfair existence, Maria."

"I completely agree."

I hugged his slender body that had settled against me, pressing my cheek to his hair.

—If only 'I' had had a Maria too.