The soft sound of a scallion pancake falling onto the stone floor was particularly clear in the quiet corridor.
But Hermione was completely oblivious; all she could see now was Draco's calm face, which seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words.
Her heart was pounding, like a drumbeat under Accio, thumping loudly.
Blood rushed to my head, and my cheeks felt incredibly hot.
Every word Draco said was like an unexpected key, forcefully prying open a door she had never imagined.
A Malfoy, a Pure-blood wizard who should be arrogantly looking down on Muggle-born, is actually envying her?
Envious of her Muggle-born?
Do you envy the courage and passion she gained through sheer hard work?
This is even more absurd than the latest decree issued by the Ministry of Magic.
I said...
Draco's voice, like a clear spring flowing over a rocky ravine, slowly pulled Hermione back to reality from her boundless shock.
I said, 'I want to try. I want to see how far I can go without the Malfoy name.'
He paused deliberately, staring intently at Hermione, and repeated that earth-shattering statement once more.
"I want to try to 'be like you.' Maybe I won't be able to in the end, maybe this path will be a hundred times harder than going to Slytherin, but at least... I want to try that path. Try that... completely on my own."
"After I said that, the hat remained silent for a long time, so long that I thought it was going to throw me straight into Slytherin."
Then it suddenly burst out laughing and said it had never seen such an outrageous request.
"I've never seen a Malfoy refuse readily available 'glory' to pursue an unknown path."
"But it says that the meaning of Hogwarts lies in respecting the choices of each wizard."
"It said that if I want to prove myself not as a puppet of my father or family through this almost rebellious means, and to find my true worth... then Gryffindor might really be the place I need."
Draco's voice gradually faded.
"Because what's most abundant there is the courage to challenge conventions and stay true to oneself... that's why they assigned me here."
Draco thought to himself: If the hat knew the truth, it would definitely jump up and curse like Hermione.
You liar, that wasn't true at all!
There was no calm confession at all; it was clearly a war of words between him and the Sorting Hat, which he managed to drive the old hat to compromise.
Draco finished his narration, and the corridor fell into a deathly silence once more.
Hermione stood there, her mind blank.
She was utterly shocked.
Even she herself was reluctant to admit it... but she seemed to have been moved by what was said.
A Malfoy, out of envy and longing for the path she took, resolutely chose Gryffindor?
This is way too... too Gryffindor!
It's like something out of a fairy tale.
But... the tone of Draco's voice when he told the story made everything seem so... real.
At least, it was far more real and... far more shocking than any explanation she had ever heard before about "family tradition" or "personal will."
She looked at Draco, the pale, thin boy who always managed to confuse her judgment with his unexpected actions.
He had previously used a "grandfather's placebo story" to fool the Hospital Wing's examination.
She was interrupted by two "hand-pulled pancakes" of unknown origin just now.
Now, he has presented this revolutionary "truth".
Hermione opened her mouth.
I thought this was ridiculous, I didn't believe it.
I also want to say that you're definitely lying again, Malfoy, and that you could never want to be like me...
But when the words reached his lips, he couldn't utter a single one.
Because the "truth" Draco gave, though bizarrely absurd, miraculously explained all the doubts.
Why was he in Gryffindor?
Why does he look so different from the traditional Malfoy?
Why was he so "open" with her?
Moreover, this reason struck Hermione precisely at the deepest, proudest, and most tender part of her heart.
She has always studied hard and tried her best to prove herself, hoping to earn the respect she deserves through her own wisdom and effort, rather than being defined by other people's labels.
Now, everything she has persisted in, the path she is so proud of, is being envied and pursued by a Malfoy.
The feeling was so complex, giving her both a sense of vanity and satisfaction from being recognized.
There is also a tremendous sense of absurdity and unreality.
There's also a sense of bewilderment and pressure about what I should do if I really am someone he's emulating.
"I..." Hermione only managed to utter one word before falling silent.
She dared not look directly into Draco's eyes, which seemed to see right through her.
I instinctively avoided his gaze, squatted down, and somewhat flusteredly picked up the scallion pancake that had fallen to the ground.
The oil paper was now covered in dust, and the edges of the pancakes were stained with dirt; they no longer looked as tempting as they once did.
She wrapped it haphazardly in oil paper, her fingers trembling slightly.
It seemed that this mechanical movement could help her sort out her chaotic thoughts.
Hermione only dared to speak after avoiding Draco's gaze.
"I... I don't know what to say, this... this is so strange. I mean... you... I..."
But she became incoherent, her words rambling and disjointed.
Her face turned bright red, completely losing her previous calm and sharp questioning demeanor, making her look like a little girl whose secret had been exposed.
Hermione was still squatting on the ground, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the dust and dirt on the oil paper, her mind still a jumbled mess.
She didn't even notice that Draco had stopped, nor did she realize his slowly approaching footsteps or the shadow gradually looming over her.
Until a thick shadow completely enveloped her, blocking the flickering firelight on the wall, the ground in front of her instantly darkened.
Hermione was startled, like a fawn awakened, and instinctively looked up.
He met Draco's downcast eyes.
They were too close.