Hermione's ears turned bright red when she heard Moaning Myrtle's call.
She stopped abruptly, nearly stumbling with embarrassment.
Hermione, enraged and embarrassed, turned and glared in the direction of the bathroom.
Afraid of being discovered, she didn't dare to actually call out back, but bit her lip and mumbled:
" Moaning Myrtle! Don't talk nonsense!"
Her voice was urgent and soft, carrying a hint of embarrassed annoyance, like a kitten whose little secret had been exposed.
As she turned around, she ran right into Draco's ambiguous, smiling gaze.
Her cheeks felt even hotter now.
Hermione hurriedly looked away, her neck stiff as she strode forward, muttering defiantly, "Hurry up, hurry up, ignore her, we won't finish sweeping before dark if we dawdle any longer!"
But her steps had already faltered.
Draco watched her hurried, quickening steps and followed slowly.
A lazy voice lingered in Hermione's ear. " Moaning Myrtle I'm handsome, is that true?"
Hermione stopped abruptly, frozen in place, her cheeks flushing crimson all the way to her forehead.
She gripped her backpack strap tighter and tighter, not daring to turn around for a long time. She muttered, "Can you please stop being so shameless!"
He then walked around to her side and deliberately asked, "Is he really not handsome?"
Hermione glared at him, but didn't dare look at me for long.
She quickly turned her face away, lifted her foot and walked forward, muttering incoherently, "I didn't think so! Narcissist!"
But her increasingly rapid pace and her ears practically bleeding betrayed her true feelings completely.
Draco didn't try to tease her anymore, but followed half a step behind her.
Looking at her taut yet slightly trembling shoulders, Draco's voice drifted over softly. "Then guess who I like?"
Upon hearing these words, Hermione's steps slowed by half a beat.
The blush that had just faded from her cheeks surged back up with heat, and her mind was a jumbled mess, like a ball of fluff.
She wanted to blurt out "I don't know."
But the jeers in the Great Hall, Moaning Myrtle's teasing, and his earlier flirtatious smile all tangled together, making those two words stuck in his throat.
Hermione stiffened her neck, feigning nonchalance, her gaze fixed on the cobblestone path ahead, and snorted, "I'm not guessing, it's none of my business."
She said it was okay, but her ears were perked up.
I secretly hoped for it, but I was also afraid that the answer would really hurt me.
"If that person were you..."
Draco's voice drifted softly down the corridor, disappearing into the wind.
Hermione froze on the spot, her cheeks instantly burning hot, the heat spreading down her neck.
She felt hot all over.
Draco could see the slight rise and fall of his shoulders.
Her breathing became erratic, and even her chest was heaving slightly.
Hermione wanted to turn around, but her legs felt like lead, and even her eyelids were too hot to lift.
My mind was a jumbled mess, with Draco's unfinished words echoing repeatedly.
It was a mixture of anticipation, embarrassment, and a touch of disbelief and panic.
These emotions robbed her of the courage to even turn around; she could only stand frozen in place, letting that burning ambiguity entwine her hair and seep into her heart.
After a long pause, Hermione managed to squeeze out a barely audible sentence. "You... what nonsense are you talking about..."
She was so panicked that she didn't even have the courage to turn around and argue back.
Draco didn't press the issue any further. He walked lightly across the cobblestone path to her side and said:
You still haven't told me your home address?
Hermione snapped back to reality, as if she had been pulled back to earth from a scorching cloud.
Her cheeks were still burning, but she quickly changed the subject, saying, "Who, who forgot! But... but why should I tell you now?"
Her voice still trembled slightly, but she forced herself to sound confident and self-assured.
"The bet didn't say anything about waiting. Does the foreman intend to renege? Or is he afraid I'll come knocking on his door?"
Draco deliberately lowered his voice for the last half of the sentence, with a hint of amusement in it.
This instantly made Hermione explode. She stomped her foot and said, "Who's afraid! I'm not cheating! I'll write down the address for you when I get back! Now get to cleaning, and stop talking nonsense!"
He turned and walked quickly forward.
Draco quickly caught up and walked beside her, casually tossing out, " Hermione, do you think your parents will like me?"
Upon hearing this, Hermione's steps, which had just regained their balance, faltered again.
She nearly bumped into a stone pillar in the corridor, hurriedly grabbing it to steady herself, and the heat on her cheeks returned.
She abruptly turned her head and glared at Draco, panicking, "Who... who wants my parents to see you! Don't flatter yourself!"
Despite his fierce words, a strange thought inexplicably popped into his mind.
He wondered if his parents would think this blond boy was too unruly when they saw him like this, or if they would like his intelligence.
The thought had barely crossed her mind when Hermione forcefully nipped it in the bud.
Enraged, she quickened her pace. "Hurry up! If you keep talking nonsense, I really won't supervise you anymore, and you'll get double the punishment from Professor McGonagall!"
Draco watched her hastily turn away, and his smile returned.
"If we actually meet, they'll definitely like me—after all, I'm so outstanding, I'm a perfect match for you."
Hermione paused, almost laughing in exasperation. She turned back and glared at Draco, but didn't argue further.
She blushed and hurried towards the Trophy Room.
As we spoke, the heavy wooden door to the Trophy Room came into view.
Draco stepped forward and pushed open the door, a smell of dust and old silk wafting out.
The trophies and medals on the display shelves gleamed faintly in the dim light.
A pile of silver trays awaiting cleaning lay in the corner, a sight that inspired awe.
Filch was indeed waiting at the door, clutching the crumpled punishment book in his hand, his gloomy gaze sweeping over Draco and Hermione.
He asked, " Miss Granger, what brings you along? Are you perhaps planning to help this kid slack off?"
As he spoke, he clenched the manual tighter into his palm.
It looked as if Hermione's name was about to be added to it at any moment.
Hermione was about to open her mouth to say something more in her defense when her wrist was suddenly gently gripped.
Draco stepped in front of her, pressing down on her shoulder as she tried to lean forward.
When he looked at Filch again, all his previous nonchalance vanished, and his tone became more serious. " Filch, who gave you the right to bark like a dog?"
The gaunt old man froze, choked, his grip on his cane tightening abruptly. He roared in a hoarse voice, "How dare you speak to me like that! I'll tell Dumbledore— "
It doesn't matter who you tell.
Draco interrupted him, his gaze sweeping over his sinister face, and said...
"You're not blind. I've been standing here without moving an inch. Can't you see whether I'm slacking off or not? You want to Hermione? Did you even ask me?"
These words made Filch's face turn ashen. He pointed a finger at Draco, trembling with rage. "You, you Gryffindor brat—"