Chapter 37 - Hermione Granger Attacked

Praeris knew that the nicer she sounded right now, the more Draco would suspect her.

From the moment she'd revealed the truth to Hermione Granger, as long as this matter remained unresolved, she could be accused of defecting to the enemy at any time.

Whose fault was it that she'd had a moment of weakness and wanted to save Ginny Weasley?

Whose fault was it that she'd just been worried about that ungrateful bastard's safety?

This was her retribution.

So she looked down at him like he was an idiot, cold and hard. "If your eyes don't work, gouge them out and use them as decoration. Didn't you notice that notebook was enchanted?"

Draco's expression stiffened. "Who do you think you are? I don't need you worrying about my safety."

"Worry about you? It's not even evening yet." Praeris let out a scoff. "I just didn't want you causing trouble for the professor."

Draco's expression, which had been softening, twisted back into something ugly. "There is one, and only one, person who causes trouble for Professor Snape — and that's you, getting love letters in Potions class."

Draco had to bring up the one thing she least wanted to hear. Praeris had almost forgotten about that, and here he was, tap-dancing on her sore spot again.

"What, no one's confessed to you, so you're bitter?" Praeris looked him up and down. "Someone like you — it's only natural no one likes you, isn't it?"

With that, she turned and walked away without looking back.

"Ha? Who says no one likes me!" Draco, as if she'd stomped on his sorest spot, shouted after her. "Get back here! I'll tell my father! I'll have Professor Snape replace you!"

Praeris had no time to argue with him about such pointless topics. She sent Hermione Granger a letter by owl, asking to meet at the Astronomy Tower.

If Hermione believed what Praeris had told her in the lavatory last time, she would definitely come.

It was still that same terrace. Praeris could still remember the scene from first year when she and Hermione Granger had debated there. With her memory, forgetting wasn't possible.

After the end of last school year, Hermione surely knew by now that it hadn't been Professor Snape behind it, it was Quirrell.

"You wanted to see me?" Hermione Granger said softly. "Oh, we should thank you. Ginny really wasn't in a good state emotionally during that time. Ron was very concerned about her, but she got better before long."

"You don't know?" Praeris's brow furrowed. "You think she was just in a bad mood?"

"Wasn't she?" Hermione looked genuinely confused.

Praeris shook her head. A little girl, influenced by a Dark Arts object, made to do wrong. If others found out, she truly didn't know how the girl would live with herself.

Since no one's life had been endangered, best to pretend she didn't know what had happened to her.

Praeris said, "Forget it. That's not important. As long as she's fine, that's enough. But Harry Potter should have given that notebook to the professors. It's a Dark Arts object."

"Th-this — how do you know?" Hermione Granger said, alarmed and uncertain.

Praeris ruthlessly self-deprecated: "I'm a Slytherin. I can get a professor to write me a pass into the Restricted Section anytime. Is it so hard to recognize a Dark Arts object?"

"Oh, thank you so much," Hermione Granger said. "He told us it was Hagrid who released the monster. We didn't believe it."

"He? Hagrid?" Praeris's face turned grim. "You spoke with that Dark Arts object?"

Hermione Granger said, "It was Harry. Tom took him to see what happened fifty years ago..."

Praeris shook her head. "The thief crying 'catch the thief.' That notebook was the real culprit. In any case, don't believe a single word the notebook says. Just give it to the professors."

"But how did it actually do it?" Hermione Granger had the spirit of someone who'd break a pot just to get to the bottom of a question.

"I'd like to tell you, but it's already very late." Praeris glanced at the sky, sensing curfew was approaching again, and said only, "Think about it — didn't the petrifications stop as soon as Potter got the notebook? It's as simple as that."

"That's a bit forced. You must know other things you're just not telling me." This girl was sharp as a tack. "But you're right. In any case, giving the notebook to Professor McGonagall — that can't be wrong."

The two clever girls hit it off at once, but reality always catches plans off guard.

The next day, Praeris received a letter from Hermione Granger. It read: "I thought the hardest part would be convincing the two of them, especially Ron. He always thinks you have ill intentions. I didn't even dare tell him it was you who told me. But before that, something unexpected happened. When I got back to the common room, Harry said his dormitory had been turned upside down, and the only thing missing was that notebook."

"I think only a Gryffindor could have done this. Only a Gryffindor could get into Harry's dormitory, isn't that right? You mentioned Ginny earlier, is it connected to Ginny? Could she have been enchanted by the notebook? Also, I've got some leads on the monster. I don't think I need you to give me hints anymore. I plan to go to the library and look up some information. Believe me, I think I'm about to see the answer!"

This was quite simply the worst possible scenario, Praeris thought.

Hermione Granger was a worthy opponent. She was intelligent enough, independent, and proud. That refusal to accept fate in her made Praeris feel as if she were looking in a mirror.

But Praeris knew she and Hermione Granger were completely different. Praeris's childhood had died completely the moment she was abandoned.

Hermione Granger had a loving, happy family, that was the source and foundation that allowed her to keep a kind heart.

If Hermione Granger was investigating this matter, it was definitely not for her own safety, but for the lives of many others. If Hermione Granger discovered the truth, she would certainly tell everyone immediately, not hide it and keep it secret like Praeris did, just because she was a Slytherin.

Oh, no, it should be said, she wouldn't have such inhibitions at all, because she wasn't a Slytherin to begin with.

Slytherin was Praeris's salvation, pulling her out of the mire. Slytherin was also the shackles Praeris was forced to wear, making her dance with difficulty.

Now, Praeris knew: as a clever Gryffindor pursuing the truth, Hermione Granger would be killed by her own intelligence.

Whether or not it was Ginny Weasley who had stolen back the notebook, even if it was another Gryffindor, the "Tom" inside the notebook would certainly not let Hermione Granger continue investigating.

A Slytherin's words were not to be trusted, but evidence uncovered by Hermione Granger would certainly be believed.

Let us answer: what is the best way to solve a problem?

Eliminate the person creating the problem.

Praeris looked at the neatly written letters on the paper: Hermione Granger.

She truly, absolutely hated trouble.

Praeris shook her head, pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, picked up her quill, and began to write.

Granger,

Stop investigating. Do not let anyone know you are close to the answer. Whatever you want to know, still at the Astronomy Tower. I will tell you everything, completely.

Completely, that was impossible.

After receiving Hermione Granger's news about "Tom," Praeris had conducted further investigation.

She had confirmed Tom's identity just this morning. It wasn't difficult. She already had the keywords "Tom" and "Hagrid."

Limit the timeframe to around when Hagrid was in school, and there were very few named Tom, as it happened, there was a Head Boy named Tom who won an award for reporting Hagrid's possession of dangerous magical creatures. Just as he had claimed before Harry Potter that Hagrid was the culprit.

What made Praeris tremble even more was that this Tom Riddle had formed a group, a gathering similar to Sylvia's Muggle Studies club, called the Knights of Walpurgis.

Sounded familiar? Good, because there wasn't a single Slytherin who wasn't familiar with that name.

The Knights of Walpurgis were the precursor to the Death Eaters.

Praeris's hands were trembling as she flipped through these materials. Investigating these things wasn't hard for her, she had investigated her own mother the same way back then, following the trail step by step, without any pressure.

The owner of that notebook was called Tom. According to Praeris's investigation, he had controlled Ginny Weasley in order to control the Basilisk.

So, string the clues together: Tom Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin. He opened the Chamber of Secrets, victimized Myrtle, framed Hagrid for it, left behind the Dark Arts notebook, which fell into Ginny's hands, and controlled Ginny to open the Chamber once again.

When Praeris closed the record book on Hogwarts clubs and societies, her face was as pale as paper.

Not just Hermione Granger, she herself absolutely could not investigate any further either. And she had to swallow every part of what she knew about the Dark Lord deep into her stomach.

Praeris returned to the common room with a dark expression. Everywhere she looked, nearly every Slytherin sitting there had relatives who had once been Death Eaters. This even included the teacher who had always taken her under his wing and taught her, Professor Snape.

Just saving Hermione Granger would be enough, she told herself. Who do you think you are, Harry Potter? Do you think you're the savior?

No. You're not. You're just a Slytherin who has nothing except a brain. You're a half-blood orphan. Your reckless audacity will cost you everything you have now.

"What are you doing, trying to steal a job from a stone statue?" Draco's insufferable voice rang out behind her again.

Draco leisurely circled around to face Praeris. "Good news. Good news for both of us."

"Let's hear it," Praeris said absently.

"The Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match has been canceled," Draco said.

Praeris said listlessly, "That's the kind of news you should be telling Marcus and Stella."

Draco leaned closer to her and sneered. "Because that Mudblood Granger has been petrified. Now you don't have to worry about anyone surpassing you."

Praeris clenched her fists, controlling herself so as not to show any suspicious expression. "Oh, is that so? You think I'm as incompetent as you, needing to eliminate my rivals to secure my position? No. I don't need that at all. Even if she hadn't been petrified, she wouldn't have been my match."

Draco was about to say something more, but a low voice came from behind both of them. "Good. My students should have such spirit. But I assume I haven't mistreated Slytherin students, there are enough sofas in the common room for you to sit on. There's no need to stand here blocking the way."

Praeris and Draco both spun around and hastily stepped back.

It was Professor Snape.

The renewed attacks put the entire school on alert. The Head of House announced that students could not leave the common room after six o'clock, classes required escorts, and all matches were to be postponed.

After the professor left, the Slytherins still looked completely unconcerned.

"No one's afraid?" Praeris murmured to herself.

Millicent looked puzzled. "Why would we be afraid?"

"There are half-bloods in Slytherin too, aren't there?" Praeris said.

Praeris wasn't referring to herself. There were other half-blood Slytherins besides her, it was just that they didn't gravitate toward the pure-blood ideology of Draco and Daphne.

Millicent nodded. "That's true. But why would the Heir of Slytherin attack Slytherin students? I mean, not a single person attacked has been a Slytherin, right?"

This once again confirmed Praeris's earlier theory. Why would the Dark Lord's Dark Arts object attack Slytherins? This was his talent pool.

Knowing full well that as long as she didn't continue investigating, her life wouldn't be in danger, Praeris felt she ought to be able to relax.

But she absolutely couldn't.

If she had never seen Hermione Granger pushing open the compartment door with her chin raised, if she hadn't frequently been mentioned alongside Hermione Granger by the professors, if she hadn't crossed wands with Hermione Granger, then of course she could have turned a blind eye.

But as it happened, as it happened, she had seen it all.

Why did a Slytherin have such a merciful heart?

Why did she suffer for the life and safety of others?

Why,

She thought her heart had grown rigid long ago during those five or six years in the orphanage, yet she still could not bring herself to ignore all of this.

Even the professor had once followed the Dark Lord, hadn't he? If anyone around her knew she had intentions of thwarting the Dark Lord, could she still continue to stay here?

Praeris couldn't make a decision. Survival and the last remnants of her morality waged a tug-of-war in her heart, tormenting her soul.

What finally made her steel her heart was a tea party a few days later.

Going out had been difficult lately, matches were suspended, and the Slytherins had almost nothing to do. So they all sat together in the common room, drinking tea and chatting.

Praeris had been zoning out terribly recently. To hide her abnormality, she often carried some random book with her and stared blankly at it.

"Want a butter shortbread?" Millicent held a piece of shortbread to her lips.

Praeris took a bite. "Too sweet."

"Just have some black tea with it," Millicent said.

There was a circle of large sofas in the middle of the Slytherin common room, but Praeris and Millicent weren't over there. They were at a table and chairs near the trophy case.

➤ Next: Resolve