Hermione tried to urge him on seriously, but then couldn't help taking another big bite of the scallion pancake.
The unique flavor of the scallion pancake actually eased Hermione's tense nerves somewhat.
My stomach felt a little full.
But the stronger this sense of satisfaction became, the more intense her frustration grew.
She actually ate the food of unknown origin under Draco's "coercion," and even genuinely found it delicious!
This was a blatant provocation against her principle of prioritizing reason, making her both ashamed and angry, her cheeks puffing out even more.
Looking at Hermione's almost puffed-up expression.
Laco's smile widened even more.
He turned his head and glanced at Hermione's blustering yet cowardly appearance.
He didn't rush to answer, but let the silence in the corridor be filled with the subtle sounds of Hermione chewing her food.
Draco only spoke slowly after Hermione swallowed her food, her brow furrowed, and she looked about to urge him again:
" The Sorting Hat... it really did want to sort me into Slytherin at first, very much so."
With just one sentence, Hermione's attention was instantly focused.
She subconsciously slowed down her chewing, her ears perked up, afraid of missing a single word.
"It barely lingered before it saw my ambition, my pride in being Pure-blood, and my latent thirst for... power," Draco said.
"These are all very ' Malfoy,' and very ' Slytherin.' In its eyes, that's where I belong, the place that best suits my 'nature.'"
Hermione stopped chewing completely, and forgot to bring the scallion pancake to her mouth.
She stared blankly at Draco's profile, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
This coincided with her guess; the Malfoy bloodline and nature were rightfully meant for Slytherin.
But he ended up in Gryffindor. What happened in between?
Just as she was filled with doubt and about to ask again, Draco's voice rang out once more.
"Didn't I say I wanted to be like you? That's what gave me the courage, and in the end, I got the hat in Gryffindor."
Draco's voice remained as calm as if stating a fact, yet every word struck her like thunder.
Want to become someone like you?
She stopped abruptly, frozen in place.
The piece of scallion pancake that hadn't been swallowed yet remained on the tip of my tongue, unchewed.
The food in my hand felt warm to the touch, and I could faintly hear the laughter of other students coming from the far end of the corridor. The torches on the wall flickered with orange-red light.
But all of this seemed to fade away in an instant, leaving only Draco Malfoy's expressionless profile in her world.
And that sentence he just said.
The sound kept booming in her ears, making her eardrums numb and her mind go blank.
she?
Hermione Granger?
A witch whose parents are both Muggle and who has no magical blood?
And him?
Draco Malfoy?
A Malfoy born into an ancient Pure-blood families, instilled with the belief of " Pure-blood Supremacy " from childhood?
absurd.
That's absurd.
This is even more absurd than his previous claim that his grandfather comforted him with his "special constitution"!
It's even more absurd than him pulling two steaming hot scallion pancakes out of his pocket!
This was utterly absurd, the most outrageous joke she had ever heard!
"What... what did you say?" Hermione repeated in disbelief.
She didn't even realize there was still a little sauce on her lips.
"You want to be... like me?" she repeated.
Her tone was filled with disbelief and shock, and a hint of barely perceptible panic.
"What are you talking about, Malfoy? This isn't funny at all! Do you know what you're saying? You're Malfoy, and I... I'm Muggle-born!"
Draco stopped, slowly turned around, and faced her directly.
He didn't answer immediately, but calmly met Hermione's flustered eyes.
"Do you find it funny, Granger?" Draco retorted.
"A Malfoy who wants to become a Muggle-born Gryffindor?"
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting to the flickering torches on the distant wall, as if recalling something from a long time ago.
Having organized his thoughts, Draco continued:
" The Sorting Hat saw right through me... my true nature, ambition, shrewdness, obsession with Pure-blood status, and latent thirst for power. These are things that flow in the blood of the Malfoy family. It saw them at a glance and believed that was the path I would 'easiest to succeed' on, a path to Slytherin that had been proven by countless predecessors."
"But the hat also saw something else; it saw... my weariness, even... fear, of this predetermined, Malfoy path to 'success.'"
Draco could easily come up with such half-truths.
But these words struck Hermione like a bolt from the blue, making her hold her breath involuntarily.
Draco, oblivious to her shock, continued:
"I'm tired of those hypocritical family social obligations, tired of the arrogant tone I have to maintain at all times, tired of having to do everything based on ' Malfoy's glory'."
"I'm even more tired of my future being planned out so early, to become someone like my father or my grandfather, scheming and plotting within a small circle of Pure-blood people, doing things that I don't really understand, and may not even agree with, for the sake of so-called 'purity of blood' and 'family interests'."
Upon hearing this, Hermione's heart began to pound uncontrollably.
She subconsciously bit her lip, the taste of the food on her tongue long gone.
She looked into Draco's deep eyes.
For the first time, she felt that the Malfoy in front of her was completely different from all the labels she had in mind regarding " Malfoy ".
Draco continued his story before she could finish processing it:
"After the hat understood my thoughts, it let me see you, Granger."
Draco's gaze refocused on her face.
This time, genuine emotional fluctuations appeared in his eyes.
"A Muggle-born witch, without a distinguished family background, without inherited Ancient Magic, and even in the magical world, she has to endure prejudice and discrimination because of her birth."
"But you, relying on your... intelligence, courage, and passion, plunged headlong into the world of magic."
Draco's words were like spring rain falling on parched earth, gradually soothing Hermione's heart.
"You don't need to conform to any Pure-blood standards, you don't need to bear the heavy expectations of your family, you just need to be yourself."
"Study hard, explore constantly, use knowledge and ability to prove your worth, and earn the respect of others. You live... a life that is free, pure, and powerful."
Draco took a slight breath, as if he needed a bit of courage to say what he was about to say:
" The Sorting Hat told me that I have ambition, intelligence, and the potential to become Slytherin, but I also have... the courage to choose."
"It asked me whether I should choose the easy, paved road to ' Malfoy -style success,' or... choose a path like yours, where I earn respect through knowledge and ability, not by surname and lineage."
boom--
Hermione's mind went completely blank.
She stood there, stunned, her eyes, which always shone with intelligence, now filled with utter shock and bewilderment.
He could no longer hold onto the scallion pancake in his hand, and it fell to the cold stone floor with a "thud".
The oil paper unfurled, revealing a half-eaten pancake lying there all alone.
Hermione looked at the candid Draco Malfoy before her.
For the first time, she realized that all her past logic, all her predictions, and all her precautions had collapsed at this moment.