No, that's impossible.
Draco must be trying to lower her guard.
Countless thoughts raced through Hermione's mind, each pointing to a deep-seated distrust and an elaborate conspiracy.
But Draco's expression at that moment was so serious it didn't seem like he was faking it.
She was starting to feel uncertain again.
Is he... serious?
But... why did he do that?
Just to tease her?
The promise made in this "request" comes at too high a price and is too easily exposed.
Isn't he afraid she'll make a request that will embarrass him greatly?
For example, could he be asked to admit in front of the entire school that the Pure-blood Supremacy is a fallacy?
Hermione is very confused right now.
It was even more chaotic than when Draco questioned him in the classroom earlier.
Hermione felt her brain was about to overload.
"What... what tricks are you playing, Malfoy?"
Hermione couldn't help but ask.
"A request? You think I'd believe you? That I'd actually make some kind of 'request'?"
Draco turned slightly to the side upon hearing her words.
Hermione was still lost in her own thoughts and surprise, and did not immediately notice his slight pause.
At that moment, Draco moved.
Instead of creating more distance, he took another aggressive step forward before Hermione could retreat.
This step instantly compressed the polite and restrained distance between them into a dangerous range where they could almost hear each other breathing.
Hermione could smell his cool, aloof scent again.
Her pupils suddenly contracted, and she instinctively tried to back away, but her back was already pressed firmly against the cold, damp door frame, leaving her with nowhere to retreat.
Draco leaned slightly forward, lowered his head, and whispered in her ear.
His hair almost touched Hermione's forehead.
His warm breath gently brushed against her sensitive earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.
If I say...
"... I know why Moaning Myrtle was crying..."
"... And what exactly happened in that washroom fifty years ago?"
"Well then, Miss Granger..."
Draco maintained this dangerously close distance.
His gaze shifted slightly to the side, landing on Hermione's instantly pale profile.
Watching her pupils suddenly contract, feeling her breath suddenly stop, and her body trembling slightly and uncontrollably.
Finally, the ultimate question was asked:
"... Do you still think this request is 'unnecessary'?"
boom--!!!
Hermione's mind went blank, as if struck by lightning.
Moaning Myrtle... crying... fifty years ago... the washroom...
These words, taken alone, might just be one of the many strange tales at Hogwarts, anecdotes whispered among the students.
But when they come from Draco Malfoy, in such an obviously suggestive way, everything changes!
Her thoughts were swept away like by a hurricane, instantly casting aside all the embarrassment, shame, and confusion of the evening.
Now all that remains is shock and curiosity.
She knew Moaning Myrtle.
Just moments ago, she was in the same room with this weeping ghost, listening to her complain about the grievances she suffered in her previous life.
She never imagined that Moaning Myrtle, who died in the girls' lavatory at Hogwarts fifty years ago, had such a secret.
And Draco Malfoy knows the truth about Moaning Myrtle's death?!
That's impossible!
He must be talking nonsense!
They're mocking her in an even more shocking way!
Use a vague and elusive secret to whet her appetite!
But... why would he use this to tease her?
This makes no sense!
The news of Moaning Myrtle's death had long been lost to time; to her, it was nothing more than an insignificant piece of school history.
Unless... unless he really knows something.
The Malfoy family is one of the oldest Pure-blood families in the Wizarding World, with deep roots.
They have intricate connections with all the headmasters of Hogwarts, perhaps... they truly possess some unknown secrets of Hogwarts?
Her curiosity was completely ignited by this sentence, even overshadowing her wariness and disgust towards Malfoy.
Hermione's face turned deathly pale in the dim light; she was utterly shocked!
So much so that they forgot the dangerously close proximity between them, forgot the warmth emanating from the wicker basket in their arms, and forgot all their shame and embarrassment.
She then turned her head sharply, so quickly that her forehead almost hit Draco's chin.
Her gaze met those eyes, which were inches away.
"What... what did you say?"
Hermione's voice was terribly dry.
"Do you... do you know how Moaning Myrtle died? What exactly happened fifty years ago?"
Her question came out without thinking.
Draco seemed completely unsurprised by her reaction, even managing a slight smirk.
He slightly increased the distance by a few centimeters.
This made him less aggressive, but still kept him within a clear whispering range.
Draco straightened up slightly and repeated the description.
"I said, I know some things... things that even Professor McGonagall, or even Headmaster Dumbledore, might not fully know... things from the past. Things about certain corners of Hogwarts Castle buried by time, and... the truth behind the weeping ghosts."
"So, Miss Granger, let's return to our original topic..."
"... Do you want it or not--"
"--Such a request?"