HP: She married Malfoy after becoming an exchange student.

The stone walls of the underground corridor exuded a chill. Draco was looking down at a book called "Elementary Transfiguration Guide." The dense German notes on the edges of the pages shimmered in the fluorescent light—the final exam notes that Elias had compiled for him.

"—Judging by that, is Slytherin planning to move the library into the common room?" Ron's voice came from around the corner, deliberately loud. "Or is someone even needing a German to read 'The History of Magic' for them?"

Draco's fingers paused, and a crease appeared on the page.

“At least we won’t be like some people,” he said without looking up, “who can’t even read *A Thousand Magical Herbs and Mushrooms* properly. Weasley, do I need to remind you of that time you mistook a vixen for a guardian tree frog?”

Harry stepped in front of Ron, his green eyes behind his glasses narrowing: "Malfoy, those German cookies of yours—"

"More reliable than your Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans." Draco finally closed the book, twirling the cookie box in his palm. "The cookies won't taste like earwax."

Elias appeared silently beside Draco, his wand gleaming coldly between his fingers. He didn't speak, but Ron unconsciously took a half step back—last week in Charms class, this German had silently made a training bird statue dance for ten minutes, much to Professor Flitwick's agitation.

"You Slytherins are all about rote memorization," Ron retorted, his neck stiff. "A true wizard needs—"

"What do you need?" Draco raised an eyebrow, "The talent to cast the Levitation Charm as an Explosion Charm?"

Harry suddenly pulled a roll of parchment from his bag: "At least we don't need to resort to underhanded tactics to win the House Cup." (Referring to the Slytherin players deliberately bumping into each other during the Quidditch match.)

Harry shook the parchment: "Malfoy, this is yours, isn't it?"

The air froze instantly.

The parchment clearly showed Elias's final exam study schedule for Draco, which Harry had somehow gotten his hands on.

"Stealing?" Draco's voice turned cold. "A new Gryffindor tradition?"

"I found it." Harry raised his chin. "Right on the library floor—you Slytherins always leave your stuff lying around."

Elias chuckled softly, and with a gentle tap of his wand, the parchment automatically folded into a paper crane, which fluttered back into Draco's hand.

"Midnight tonight," Draco began, his grey-blue eyes fixed on Harry. "The Prize Room. No wands, if you dare."

"Are you crazy?" Harry whispered. "Filch will..."

"Scared already?" Draco mimicked Ron's earlier tone. "Or is the savior only capable of playing the hero during the day?"

-

At eleven o'clock that night, Filch's oil lamp illuminated the prize display room precisely on time. Mrs. Lorris excitedly rushed towards the floating invisibility cloak—

"Potter! Weasley!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed like a thunderclap. "Trespassing in the prize room after curfew! Fifty points deducted from Gryffindor!"

The next morning at breakfast, Ron and Harry stormed into the Great Hall with dark circles under their eyes: "Malfoy, you're so despicable, you tricked us!"

Draco, spreading blueberry jam on his toast, asked, "What's wrong with me?"

You said midnight!

"German time," Elias interjected calmly, pushing a steaming glass of Darjeeling towards Draco. "Cologne is an hour ahead of London."

Harry stared at the House Cup scoreboard on the Great Hall dome—Slytherin's jewels were clearly in the lead. He suddenly remembered the origami crane that had automatically turned back yesterday, and the dangerous silver glint at the tip of Elias's wand.

--------------

During the Charms test, Harry's "Flicker" caused a burst of fireworks to erupt from the tip of his wand, prompting Professor Flitwick to whistle in a high-pitched voice. In the Transfiguration test, Hermione successfully transformed a white mouse into a silver button, prompting Professor McGonagall to smile, while Ron's frog only managed to transform half a leg, struggling to hop around on the desk.

The most thrilling was the potion exam.

Professor Snape stood with his arms crossed before the cauldron, his black robes rustling as they swept across the floor. As he approached Elias's cauldron, his nostrils twitched—the shrinking potion inside was as clear as amber, gleaming with a faint silver light. Snape didn't speak, simply marking an "O" on his grade sheet. Turning away, he glanced at Draco's cauldron; the potion inside, while not perfect, was more than adequate, and a satisfied smile curved his lips.

On the afternoon the exams ended, the results were posted on the bulletin board in the lobby. The crowd surged forward like a tidal wave, Hermione pushing to the front, her fingers flying across the list, when suddenly she held her breath—

First in the grade: Elias Reinhardt (all subjects O)

Second in the grade: Hermione Granger (all subjects O, except for Ancient Rune, which is P)

Third in the grade: Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott (all subjects except Charms and History of Magic are O's).

Ron clicked his tongue in amazement: "Hermione, you were just a little bit short!" Harry patted her on the shoulder and saw her looking at the top name on the list, her eyes filled with both resentment and a hint of admiration.

Draco stood on the outskirts of the crowd. When he saw his name listed alongside Theodore's, he snorted, but couldn't help glancing at Elias.

He was surrounded by several students who wanted to ask him questions. Sunlight fell on his slightly lowered eyelashes, and the lines of his profile were particularly clear in the halo of the bulletin board. Pansy nudged his arm: "What, you're not happy about being outdone by Reinhardt?"

Draco didn't say anything, but he squeezed the study plan in his pocket, feeling the familiar touch on his fingertips.

In the distance, Gore and Crabbe were still grinning at the list, patting each other on the back, as if they had also contributed to the third place.