Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Hermione has not returned to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry will have Ron to comfort him when something like this happens.

She noticed their expressions and knew that being chosen as warriors was certainly not their own choice.

After leaving the foyer, she went to the library first, but Mrs. Pince said the library was already closed.

She went to the auditorium again, but it was empty.

After thinking about it, she decided to try her luck near the cellar.

She knew Kane wouldn't go to bed that early.

He always returned to the common room very late—that was what she knew about Kane.

At least in her life at Hogwarts, she understands Kane better than Fleur, doesn't she?

Hermione walked lightly down the corridor leading to Slytherin's cellars.

She wanted to make sure he was really alright.

Maybe I just wanted to... see him.

She turned a corner and then stopped.

There were two people in the alcove next to the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

One is Kane, and the other is Fleur.

They were standing very close together.

Kane leaned against the stone wall, while Hibiscus faced him.

Hermione immediately hid behind the corner.

Kane and Fleur look like they're on a date right now!

Like those couples who sneak off to a secluded spot to kiss.

"When I heard Harry's name, I thought he had cheated to get in."

"I initially thought he was doing it for fame!"

"Harry doesn't care about fame."

"Do you know who framed you?"

"More or less," Kane said.

"Then why didn't you tell Dumbledore? He could—"

"Dumbledore knows. But he needs evidence; he can't act on mere guesswork."

"So what do you plan to do?"

Kane paused for a moment. "I'll handle it after the game."

"You yourself?" Hibiscus's voice rose half an octave before falling back down.

"How did you learn the spells? They're amazing! Karkaroff was almost scared to death when he faced you. I love you so much."

Furong made no attempt to hide her attitude.

Kane's voice was a little softer than before, "There's something I need your help with this time."

Furong raised an eyebrow. "What kind of busy work?"

"Take care of yourself," Kane said. "This is going to be dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."

Hermione felt terrible when she heard this.

The communication over there continued.

Are you worried about me?

"I'm worried about everyone."

"But you specifically told me that."

Kane did not deny it.

Hermione's fingers clenched her robes tightly.

She felt something stuck in her chest, a dull ache, and she couldn't quite tell if it was soreness or pain.

"Kane," Fleur's voice became very soft, so soft that Hermione had to hold her breath to hear, "tell me—that Granger girl, you and she are…"

"Good friend. Hermione is talented and hardworking."

"And what about me?"

"You're a good friend too."

"Really? Aren't you considering taking it a step further?"

"Now is not the time to think about such things. Voldemort could make a move at any moment, and I cannot afford to be distracted."

"So it's because you're too busy?" Hibiscus's tone carried a hint of teasing.

"Is it because you don't have feelings for her?"

"Hibiscus".

"Okay, okay, I won't ask anymore." Furong raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "But promise me—after all this is over, think it over carefully. Don't lock yourself in the shell of academia."

Kane did not answer.

Hermione leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

She didn't know how she felt.

A sigh of relief?

But he said they were just friends, and that Furong was just a friend too.

"Alright, you can go back now." Kane's voice pulled Hermione back to reality. "It's very late."

"What about you? Aren't you going back?"

"I'll stay a little longer."

Fleur straightened up from the wall, looked at Kane, and then gently patted his shoulder. "Don't die."

"Won't."

Furong turned and left.

Her footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing fainter and fainter.

Hermione hid behind the corner, afraid to move, lest she be discovered.

The footsteps disappeared.

Hermione waited a few seconds, then peeked out.

Kane was left alone in the alcove.

Igor flew to his shoulder, and the phoenix nuzzled his cheek with its head.

Hermione wanted to walk over.

I want to ask him, "Don't you really understand what I'm thinking?"

I wanted to remind him to stay away from that hibiscus!

But she didn't move.

Because she probably already knows the answer.

They might just be friends.

Hermione turned and left silently.

She walked back down the corridor, her steps much heavier than when she came.

She didn't like this feeling.

This feeling of caring about someone, about what they say, and about how they perceive her.

She used to only care about grades, exams, and whether she could become the best witch.

She still cares about these things now, but Kane Malfoy's name has quietly climbed to the top of the list.

When she returned to the Gryffindor Tower, there were only a few people left in the common room.

The plump lady saw her and said sympathetically, "You don't look well, dear. Would you like a cup of hot tea?"

"No need, thank you," Hermione said, and went into the girls' dormitory.

Pavati and Lavender are already asleep.

Hermione changed into her pajamas, lay down on the bed, and stared at the curtains above the bed.

The moonlight outside the window was bright, shining on the Hogwarts towers and on the boats on the Black Lake.

Kane stood in the alcove, not yet having left.

Igor sat quietly on his shoulder.

"She heard me," Igor conveyed the message in a way that only Kane could understand.

"I know," Kane said.

"Then why did you say that?"

Kane remained silent for a long time.

"Because now is not the time," he finally said. "She should focus her energy on more important things—studying, taking exams, living. Not...me."

Ig let out a soft chirp, as if sighing.

Kane needs to keep Hermione safe, Fleur safe, and his family safe.

The premise of safety is that Voldemort completely disappears, and that he has enough power to protect everything he wants to protect.

He cannot afford to be distracted before this happens.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.

It wasn't Hibiscus who returned, nor Hermione who left and came back.

There were two people. One walked steadily, with the rhythmic sound of a wooden cane tapping the ground; the other walked lighter and faster, as if suppressing some kind of anxious emotion.

There was another one—a series of almost no footsteps, like tiny steps on air.

Kane didn't turn around, but he knew who it was.

As Igor spread his wings on his shoulder and let out a low, welcoming whistle.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore's voice came from the other end of the corridor, with a kind, elder-like gentleness, "Why aren't you resting so late? You have many classes to teach tomorrow."

Kane turned around.

Dumbledore stood in the middle of the corridor, his deep purple robes gleaming silver in the moonlight.

Standing beside him was Sirius Black, wearing a rumpled travel robe, his black hair a mess like a bird's nest, his expression somewhere between anxiety and anger.

Half a step behind him, a house-elf was curled up, its huge eyes lowered, not daring to look at anyone.

Kane's gaze fell on the house-elf.

Its skin was wrinkled, like a crumpled piece of parchment, and it was draped with a dirty tea towel.

"Mr. Black," Kane nodded, "you look very tired."