Chapter 46: 2-2

Having signed up for the exact same electives as Harry, I now found myself soothing a bristling Hermione, who was currently radiating a sense of utter exasperation at the woman standing before her.

"You are possessed by the Grim."

It was Professor Trelawney. Through spectacles as thick and oversized as jam jars, she looked down at Harry with profound pity. She let out a low, shuddering moan, trembling as she supposedly glimpsed a most gruesome future.

Well, the fact that she is a Seer... isn't exactly wrong, I suppose.

"I don't see anything of the sort," Hermione spat, peering into Harry’s teacup with a look of pure suspicion. Trelawney’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

It was the exact moment the feud between Trelawney and Hermione began.

"Look, mate, you haven't really seen the Grim, have you?"

In Transfiguration, the subject had briefly shifted after Professor McGonagall offered a rather dark joke regarding Harry’s death omen. However, it seemed Ron was far more bothered by the omen than Harry himself.

Harry and I exchanged a look.

""We saw it.""

"Wha—!?"

"It was a very clever, very well-behaved Grim," I said.

"I had no idea the Grim could be so friendly," Harry added.

"Its favourite food is chicken on the bone, by the way."

"And its fur is jet black. I bet it feels wonderful to the touch if you give it a good wash."

The two of us shared a giggle. Ron, seeing that we weren't taking him seriously, began lecturing us on just how terrifying the Grim was, citing a relative who had suffered its effects (or so Ron believed). It had no impact on us.

After lunch, we had Care of Magical Creatures, a double class with the Slytherins. It appeared that students who bought The Monster Book of Monsters after us had been told how to soothe them by the shopkeeper; here and there, I could see a few of the books behaving themselves.

"It’s utter madness, making students carry books like these."

A cold, drawling voice was directed pointedly at Hagrid from within the green-trimmed robes. It was Theodore Nott. In his hands was a book that was still thrashing wildly despite being strapped shut with a belt.

Oh? I thought he’d be a bit more mature than the old Malfoy. Though, given he could still speak with a semblance of calm, he wasn't a total fool. Honestly, Malfoy back then used to lash out at anything and everything—no, wait, I decided to let bygones be bygones. Calm down, Maria.

"Good day, Mr. Nott. The shopkeeper taught us how to soothe the books... did you not think to ask?"

I countered with a smirk, trying to prevent Hagrid from stumbling right at the start. I laughed, subtly implying that perhaps the shopkeeper just didn't like him enough to share the secret. Theodore scowled at me with pure venom.

"Well, if it isn't the failure of a twin. I’d prefer it if a brainless half-blood didn't act so high and mighty. No matter how much you try to act like a man, you’re still just a girl."

Theodore’s remark drew a chorus of condemnation from the Gryffindors (especially the girls). What a prehistoric, prejudiced mindset.

"I beg your pardon, Nott," Hermione snapped back fiercely. "But compared to the 'effeminacy' of someone who can't even insult a single girl without his band of cronies behind him, I’d say Maria—girl or not—is far more of a man than you’ll ever be."

Snickers broke out across the clearing.

Sensing that the lesson would never start at this rate, Hagrid cleared his throat loudly to force everyone’s attention back to him.

"Right then... let’s get on with the lesson. Got summat special for yeh today. Just wait a moment. And behave yerselves, no fightin'!"

Having laid down the law, Hagrid disappeared into the Forest. Asking the "Red" and the "Green"—who were about as compatible as oil and water—not to fight was a tall order, but I suppose he didn't want a riot breaking out during his first-ever class.

The Gryffindors, being relatively friendly toward Hagrid, decided to simply ignore the Slytherins.

Theodore Nott, eh... Hagrid is likely bringing out the Hippogriffs. I’d like to think Nott isn't as much of an idiot as Malfoy used to be, but... I should keep an eye out.

I glanced toward the Slytherin side and my eyes met Draco's. He immediately looked away. He was wearing a cool, indifferent mask, but I knew better. That was the face of someone who was utterly fed up with remembering the past.

Incidentally, Draco had made a point of not getting involved in the earlier spat from the very beginning—a fact that Harry, Ron, and Hermione found very frustrating.

"Can't even defend the person he likes? Not much of a man, is he," Ron muttered.

"How cold of Malfoy. Well, fine—it’s very Slytherin of him, I suppose," Hermione added.

"I don't care about what he thinks of me, but he could have at least stood up for Maria... Honestly, Draco..." Harry grumbled.

I could only offer a wry smile at the three of them. Draco has his own position to maintain... and we’d already agreed he shouldn't show blatant favouritism toward Gryffindors. But that’s not something these three would understand yet.

As long as Draco is doing this on purpose, there’s an unspoken agreement that I won't defend him either. It seems the misunderstanding won't be cleared up anytime soon.

As I watched the "children" deal with their frustrations, Hagrid returned leading several Hippogriffs. The reactions were mixed: some were enthralled, some terrified, and some kept their distance. Hagrid happily explained how to greet a Hippogriff and, once again, called on Harry to be the first volunteer.

"Easy now, easy... right, give 'im a bow... that’s it..."

Despite his hesitation, Harry bowed. Buckbeak the Hippogriff blinked his orange eyes and sank onto his front knees. Success. Harry was hoisted onto Buckbeak’s back and soared high into the sky.

"Bloody brilliant, Harry!" Ron shouted, looking enviously at the silhouette against the blue sky.

I replied only in my head: It wasn't a graceful flight at all, let me tell you.

Encouraged by Harry’s return and the way Buckbeak seemed to have taken a liking to him, the other students began stepping up to the Hippogriffs. I approached a "lady" with beautiful white feathers—Hagrid mentioned she was female as he passed by, though I had no idea how he could tell—and spent my time enjoying the feel of her beak and her glossy coat. I breathed a sigh of relief as the class seemed to be a success, filled with gasps of wonder and happy voices... until—

"This is easy. I thought this was going to be difficult, being forced to touch such an ugly brute."

"—Maria!"

"Malfoy!"

It wasn't Theodore Nott who caused the disaster, but Pansy Parkinson. Draco lunged forward, grabbing Parkinson’s robes, and I slid my body into the gap. Because he had pulled her back, I was able to shield both Parkinson and the Hippogriff from a fatal mistake, though it cost me my arm.

...I’m glad I stayed close to the Slytherins just in case. I made it in time, somehow.

"Maria! Merlin's beard... get to the Hospital Wing, quick!"

"It’s just a scratch, Hagrid."

"Don't be a fool!" Draco barked.

Hagrid was busy calming the agitated Hippogriff, while Harry took hold of my arm, looking as though he might collapse. Ever since the Basilisk incident, Harry had become incredibly sensitive to my injuries.

"Draco, thank you. I... I..." Parkinson stammered.

"Parkinson, isn't there someone else you should be thanking?" Hermione snapped.

"Nobody asked a Gryffindor to help me! She just got herself kicked for no reason," Parkinson retorted.

"Why, you—!"

"It’s fine, Hermione. Just... look after Hagrid. Tell him maybe he should start with slightly calmer creatures next time," I whispered.

Following Harry’s urgent lead, I headed toward the Hospital Wing. Watching the blood drip steadily onto the floor, I thought idly about how I was making a mess of the corridor.

"Maria... why can't you just take better care of yourself?" Harry asked.

"I thought I was."

"You weren't! There was no need to protect someone like her. Did you see? She couldn't even thank her own lifesaver."

I recalled Parkinson, who had been glaring at me quite skillfully even while clinging to Draco.

Maybe it's because I have the consciousness of someone who lived through Harry’s era with all its troublemakers, but I found her behavior almost... cute? Or rather, straightforward. She really must like Draco. Unfortunately for her, he’s destined for Astoria.

"Sometimes, Maria, I feel like you—"

Harry didn't finish his sentence. I was collected by the mistress of the Hospital Wing, leaving me to watch Harry’s retreating back, which looked strangely small.

"And how is the princess whose hobby is frequenting the infirmary?"

A sandwich was placed in front of me. Feeling a bit deprived of vegetables, I wolfed it down in three bites. If Hermione had been there, she would have lectured me at least three times on my unladylike manners.

Harry and Ron had brought me dinner, but... bless them, it was nothing but meat. I was starting to get heartburn. Plus, Madam Pomfrey had given me a stern look because of the smell of food filling the room.

"I’m perfectly fine now. You should know better than anyone how a Hippogriff's talons feel, shouldn't you?"

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Draco said, playing dumb. I used my good hand to pinch his cheek.

"How is Parkinson? Is she alright?"

"Completely unscathed. She’s currently desperate to cling to me over 'wounds' that don't exist. Honestly, she's remarkably resilient."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin."

I giggled, giving my arm (now in a sling) a little wiggle. One must never underestimate the drive of a girl in love. I learned that from Hermione, Ginny, and Tonks.

"You'd better be careful. You never know where your precious Astoria might be watching—have you two met yet?"

"Yes. For Pure-blood aristocrats, parties and galas are a mandatory nuisance. Most children around the same age know each other."

"Oh, I see. So did you two come to school on the train together?"

As I smirked at him, Draco looked away, appearing somewhat weary.

"We aren't that close. Besides, she was with Daphne."

"Daphne?"

"Daphne Greengrass. A Slytherin in my year."

"So, Astoria’s older sister."

In that case, was Draco—who was also keeping his distance from Crabbe and Goyle—all alone that time?

"...Were you alright? You know—"

"The Dementors?"

"...Yeah."

"Well, it wasn't a pleasant experience. And you—er, I know I shouldn't be the one asking after mocking you so much, but—"

"I was fine. Professor Lupin was there."

I offered a small smile. The Professor’s Patronus must have been beautiful and warm. It’s a shame I fainted and missed it.

"I see."

Draco nodded and patted my head. I suddenly froze. Right—this is what’s bad!

"Draco."

I grabbed his hand while it was still on my head. He looked at me blankly. His jawline and cheekbones were starting to sharpen, making him look more like the Draco I knew, but with that expression, he still looked like a boy.

"You mustn't do things that lead to misunderstandings. I don't want to get kicked by an Abraxan. I’ll be more careful from now on, too."

"........."

Draco stared at me with that same blank expression for a moment before letting out a massive sigh of realization.

"Right. Of course. That's just the kind of person you are."

...Eh? Why does it feel like I’m the one being scolded?

"I told you I wouldn't hold back. You're the one who said it."

It was my turn to look blankly at him. Draco leaned in close, his ice-grey eyes flickering with a sudden heat as he glared at me. It was a provocative, defiant look that reminded me of the Malfoy from the old days—the one who refused to lose.

"You’d better be prepared."

.........Eh? Prepared for what?