Father! Why Did You Have to Ask That?!

Why did you have to ask me that question?!

This question should have been easy to answer.

Annoying, arrogant, fond of teasing people.

Especially fond of teasing her!

The girl spread out her parchment, finally recovering a little of her familiar confidence.

"Dear Father:"

"Regarding Harry Potter, I believe you should not trust only the praise in the newspapers."

"He is actually quite an annoying fellow, always deliberately teasing others, and sometimes he has no idea how to be considerate toward a lady."

Good.

But I can't write only about his faults.

"Of course, he does have a talent for charms, and he works very hard."

"Although... he certainly knows how to win the professors over."

At this point, Malfoy could not help pursing her lips.

Hmph! That two-faced ghost!

"Still, he really is diligent," the girl continued writing. "And... he is willing to acknowledge other people's strengths."

"Also, he takes magical research very seriously and does not give up easily when he encounters difficulties."

"Sometimes... he can be quite attentive, too."

Malfoy paused briefly, and the image of Harry shielding everyone from the troll surfaced unbidden in her mind.

And that idiot on the Quidditch Pitch, who had leaped off his broomstick without a thought for anything else.

"Besides, he is very brave."

"When danger comes, he is always the first to step forward..."

Yet, when she reached this point, the girl gave a loud, cold snort!

"Hmph!"

"But sometimes he is so brave that it is simply stupid!"

"I truly have no idea what he has in that head of his!"

"Has he never thought... that other people might worry, too?"

"So... all in all!"

"Apart from being hopelessly stupid at times, Harry Potter could be considered... a fairly decent fellow."

"Of course, only a little decent!"

The tip of her quill suddenly stopped.

Draco looked down at the paper, then at her hand.

It was full.

An entire page!

Only the first few lines called him annoying; everything after that was actually praising him!

"..."

Father, why did you have to ask that?!

The girl hurriedly picked up her quill, intending to cross out a few sentences.

But after holding it poised for ages, she had not crossed out a single one.

Draco could only solemnly add at the end:

"The above assessment reflects only his current performance and does not mean that he is already better than me."

"Especially when it comes to flying, I remain confident that I can beat him!"

The girl raised her chin in satisfaction.

That's more like it.

But a little while later, she slowly put down her quill again.

Father... never even asked which of us was better, Potter or me.

Behind the bed curtains came her roommate's steady breathing.

Draco did not shout again.

Looking at the parchment covered in ink, she suddenly realized that she actually knew so much about Potter.

His eyes lit up when he saw a new charm. When studying a problem, he would unconsciously tap his quill against the paper.

He was usually all smiles, but when something mattered, he was more serious than anyone.

Why do I remember it so clearly?

Because he's my rival?

But he isn't my only rival.

Because we're friends?

The girl pressed her lips together. She still remembered the fear on the pitch that had almost left her unable to breathe.

When her tears fell, she had not even noticed.

Back then, she had not thought about who won or lost at all.

She had only wanted that idiot to come back.

Could I really care about him a little?

This time, Draco did not deny it. She merely sat there, her cheeks growing hotter and hotter.

What if it's true?

Does that mean I've admitted defeat first?

The moment that thought arose, she frowned.

Potter can openly admit that I fly well, so why should I hide until I don't even dare speak, just because I think he's decent?

These past few days, she had been avoiding him, only to make herself unhappy first.

At that thought, she suddenly felt rather defiant.

Since when did I stop daring to do what I wanted?

Even if... even if I really do care just a tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny bit.

So what?

Her cheeks were still burning, but her chest slowly felt a little lighter.

She remembered herself standing behind the railing, able to do nothing but desperately shout for the professors to save him.

She disliked that feeling. The girl pulled her charms book closer.

"I have no intention of always being left behind by that idiot."

Draco spread out a fresh sheet of parchment.

The earlier letter clearly could not be sent as it was. She carefully wrote down Harry's talents and study habits.

She looked over the book list enclosed with her father's letter again.

Potter will definitely like these.

The girl was just about to continue when her quill stopped again.

Her father's sudden interest in Potter naturally was not merely because of a match.

The people who visited her family could always put all sorts of meanings into a single compliment.

But she did not want things between her and Potter to become like that, too.

She slowly wrote:

"Father, those two volumes of notes should suit him very well. However, I would like to ask what he wants first before requesting that you send them."

"I also do not want him to feel that he must do something for the Malfoy family because he has accepted our help."

"Potter is my friend first."

After some thought, she added another paragraph.

"Also, please help me keep an eye out for suitable materials on defensive charms. I would like to spend more time studying."

She sealed her reply, then folded up the draft filled with praise and, blushing, hid it among her notes.

As for tomorrow...

Since Potter has already said so pitifully that he'll wait for me.

Then I'll be merciful and go see him for a little while.

After all...

When a puppy keeps wagging its tail, eagerly waiting for its owner, one does have to pat its head now and then.

Ah!

There's simply nothing I can do about that idiot Potter!

Who told me to be so kind?

Then tomorrow, I'll reluctantly go and pat that poor puppy!

The next day, Goyle and Crabbe soon noticed that their young lady seemed to be in an especially good mood.

"Miss, where are you going?"

"To send a letter, then to the library."

"To borrow books?"

"Yes, and to look for Potter while I'm there."

Both fell silent at once.

Goyle asked cautiously, "Haven't you been avoiding him lately?"

Draco slowly turned her head.

"When did I ever say that?"

"But yesterday, you..."

"That was because I was rather busy. Now I'm free!"

"Understood."

The girl fastened her book bag, then added another sentence.

"Besides, Potter himself said he would wait for me."

As soon as she finished speaking, her ears reddened first.

Goyle and Crabbe exchanged a look and shut their mouths in perfect unison.

After sending off her letter home, Draco paused outside the library.

She straightened her robe collar, then dropped her hands in a huff.

It isn't our first meeting. What is there to be nervous about?

When she caught sight of that familiar figure by the window, she tightened her grip on her books.

"Potter."

Harry looked up from his book.

Sunlight fell on the girl's golden hair. With her chin still raised, she stood beside the table, holding several books.

He froze for a moment, then smiled.

"Draco?"

"Is it so strange to see me?"

"No, I'm just a little happy."

The words the girl had prepared suddenly caught in her throat.

H-happy?

She almost wanted to find another excuse to leave.

But as soon as she moved her feet, she remembered the parchment covered in writing from last night.

So she pulled out the chair beside him and sat down.

"I have something serious to discuss with you."

"Sure."

Draco touched the letter in her book bag, but first asked, "How has practice been lately?"

"Pretty good."

"Oh."

She lowered her head to straighten the corners of her books, suddenly feeling a little dejected. It seems my absence hasn't made much difference.

"But some things haven't been as convenient as before," Harry added.

The girl immediately looked up.

"Why?"

"You always spotted problems I couldn't see myself. Practicing alone lately has taken some getting used to."

Harry moved his notes aside, making room for her.

"So I'm really glad you came today."

The little knot of awkwardness in the girl's heart dissolved at once, though she still gave a soft huff.

"It seems you make very slow progress without me."

"Well, not that slow."

"Potter!"

Holding back his laughter, Harry hastily motioned for her to lower her voice.

Beside a bookshelf not far away, Madam Pince had already looked up at them.

"A few days ago, I thought you were still angry about the match, so I wanted to give you some time," Harry said. "I didn't want to make you any unhappier."

The girl slowly stilled. So he had been thinking about these things too.

"I certainly was angry that day."

"But you already apologized." Draco raised her chin slightly. "I'm not that petty."

"I know."

Only after a moment did the girl take out her father's letter again.

"Also, Dad wrote to me last night. He said he could lend you two volumes of spell notes."

Harry's gaze immediately shifted toward her.

"Spell notes?"

"They're research materials from our family collection. One volume covers defensive spells, and the other covers linking spells and countering them in duels."

Harry couldn't help sitting a little straighter. Flitwick had just raised the demands of his training lately, and these were exactly the things he wanted to study.

"Why would Mr. Malfoy be willing to lend them to me?"

"Dad read those recent reports too."

The girl added proudly, "Of course, I deserve some credit as well."

"You deserve some credit?"

Draco suddenly remembered that full-page draft, and her face grew warm.

"Dad asked my opinion first! I was the one who told him those materials would suit you."

Harry looked at her and said earnestly, "Then I really do owe you my thanks, Draco."

The girl immediately looked away.

There he went again.

Why did this idiot always have to be so earnest when he thanked someone?

"But I already told Dad that whether you borrow them is up to you."

She placed the letter on the corner of the desk.

"It's not as though I'm going to order you around over a few notebooks."

"If you don't want to borrow them, you can just say so."

Harry looked at her and smiled.

"I really like you..."

Draco's heart skipped a beat.

"...having that idea."

Li-

Wait.

He meant the idea.

The girl hurriedly drew her gaze back.

"That's what I thought in the first place!"

"Then I'd like to borrow them. Please thank Mr. Malfoy for me. I'll take good care of them and return them on time."

"Understood."

Draco put the letter away again.

"I'll write to Dad again and tell him. Once the notes arrive, you'd better study them properly."

"Of course."

"Also, you're free this afternoon, aren't you?"

Harry smiled as he closed his book.

"I am."

That afternoon, in the familiar Empty Classroom, the desks and chairs were moved aside again.

Draco raised her wand first.

"Protego!"

A faint barrier successfully spread out, only to dissipate quickly. She frowned.

"You pulled your wrist back a little too soon," Harry said beside her.

"I did not!"

"Try again?"

"Fine, I will."

The girl waved her wand again, deliberately finishing the movement a little later.

Sure enough, the barrier was much more stable.

She stared at that layer of light. Only after a while did she give a quiet huff.

"I just wasn't paying attention earlier."

"Of course."

When it was Harry's turn, he tried shortening his wand movement, and the barrier appeared swiftly.

"Wait, Potter."

"You're trying to block in front of you, but that angle just now veered to the left."

Harry lowered his head to glance at his hand.

"I can see it from my side." The girl stepped a little closer. "After you left out that movement, the final position changed too."

Harry tried again, following the position she had pointed out.

"You're right." He lowered his wand and smiled at her. "Practicing together really is better."

"Now do you know how important I am?"

"Of course. You've always been important."

Draco froze for a moment. The girl turned her face away and adjusted her cuff.

"Then you'd better properly appreciate my guidance from now on."

"Of course, Miss Malfoy."

During their break, she tightened her grip on her wand again.

"Potter, I want to practice something harder."

"Why?"

She remembered those hands behind the railing, unable to grasp anything, but when she spoke, her tone remained proud.

"I don't want to keep losing to you!"

Harry smiled. "Haven't you already won before?"

"How could once be enough?" The girl raised her chin, her familiar air finally returning in full. "Potter, I haven't won nearly enough yet!"

Harry looked at her, and the slight awkwardness of the past few days finally disappeared. Smiling, he held out a little finger.

"All right, then it's a promise."

Draco stared for a moment.

She looked down at the little finger held out before her, her beautiful gray-green eyes full of confusion.

"Potter, what do you mean by this?"

"A pinky promise."

"A pinky promise?"

"Yes. It's a way of making promises where I used to live." Harry wiggled his little finger and explained with a smile, "Once two people hook their little fingers together, neither can go back on the promise they make."

Draco blinked, then gave a soft huff.

"Honestly, Muggle customs are such a bother!"

"Isn't it just a promise? When have I ever gone back on my word?"

Despite saying that, she still quietly raised her hand.

A faint blush crept unnoticed over her fair cheeks.

"Hmph! Since you insist..."

"I suppose I'll reluctantly go along with you just this once!"

The girl extended her slender little finger and carefully hooked it around Harry's.

Their fingers linked gently, and Harry smiled as he gave them a little shake.

"Pinky hook, thumbs up, no changing for a hundred years!"

"A... a hundred years?!"

Draco abruptly lifted her head, her gray-green eyes widening at once.

She turned her face slightly away, but her voice was much quieter than before.

"Then you'd better remember it, Potter."

"I... hate people who break their promises most of all."

The setting sun fell across the floor as the two returned to their respective positions.

Incantations rang out, occasionally interspersed with a few defiant arguments.

Draco raised her wand and looked at the smiling boy opposite her.

She still wanted to beat him.

But...

Something suddenly occurred to the girl.

He was the renowned genius Harry Potter, yet every time he practiced, he insisted on inviting me along, and even said something about a hundred years...

Hmph!

What an idiot. He simply couldn't do without me!

Oh, well.

Who could blame me for being so kind?

Since poor Potter needed me so much, I supposed I could reluctantly keep him company a little longer.

As for how long...

Would it really have to be... a hundred years?

Draco blinked, then felt she was thinking a little too far ahead.

After all...

Potter would definitely come looking for her tomorrow.

The author also went on Douyin to look into this.

"Pinky hook, thumbs up, no changing for a hundred years."

The "hanging" in the original rhyme doesn't mean finding a rope and putting your neck through it.

The explanation I came across while scrolling was that "hanging" was actually a homophone of "raising."

Two people first hooked their little fingers together, then raised their thumbs and gently touched them together.

This gesture was equivalent to putting down a fingerprint or affixing a seal when signing a contract in ancient times.

The promise officially took effect, and neither person was allowed to go back on it.

As for why it was a hundred years...

Perhaps it was simply because, when we were little, we thought a hundred years meant forever.