The boy shook his head vigorously, repeating, "No, no! I really didn't! I just blurted it out because I was being stubborn, I'll never do it again..."
Draco didn't make things difficult for the pale-faced boy anymore; he simply waved his hand dismissively, thus ending the matter.
He turned to the floating Peeves and gestured with his chin. "This is none of your business. Go play somewhere else."
The Peeves said respectfully, "Yes, sir, Young Master Malfoy!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he turned into a gust of wind with a "poof" and disappeared without a trace.
The classroom remained so quiet you could hear a pin drop; everyone was still reeling from what had just happened.
Draco's gaze swept calmly across the class, his tone no longer sharp as before, carrying only a slight reminder, his voice clear yet not harsh:
"I don't have any other requests. You can talk and chat as you like, just—don't be so loud, OK?"
This gentler request was more effective than yelling "Shut up!" or summoning Peeves.
Almost instinctively, all the students nodded, even the most boisterous ones quickly echoed:
"Understood, Malfoy."
We'll be quiet...
Draco nodded slightly and said nothing more.
Just then, the classroom door was gently pushed open, and Professor Quirrell, wrapped in his oversized headscarf, walked in shakily.
Looking up, I saw Draco with one foot on the long table, striking a flamboyant pose.
He froze on the spot, asking, "Ma... Malfoy... what are you... doing?"
Draco, without changing his expression, withdrew his foot, sat down lightly, straightened the hem of his robe, and answered without the slightest hint of guilt:
"Oh, it's nothing, Professor. A lot of students wanted to ask me questions, and there were so many people that those in the back wouldn't be able to hear, so I stood a little higher."
Upon hearing this, the expressions on the faces of the entire class instantly became an incredible spectacle.
Ron's lips twitched violently, and he almost burst out laughing.
Harry turned his face away, pretending to look at his textbook, but inwardly he was furious. "You're the one in charge, yet you dare to talk so Diadem."
Lavender and Parvati exchanged a glance, desperately trying to suppress their laughter, almost to the point of internal injury. They never expected Draco to lie so effortlessly.
Olivia covered her mouth and chuckled, then whispered and winked at Hermione, "Your boyfriend is such a good storyteller; it's a shame he's not a master liar."
Hermione, sitting to the side, couldn't help but twitch at the corner of her eye. She silently buried her head in her textbook, pretending not to know this person who was spouting nonsense.
Professor Quirrell, clearly not thinking much of it, was instead touched by the kind words of help, nodding repeatedly with a pleased expression, and stammering words of encouragement:
"Very good, Malfoy... He's helpful and willing to answer questions for his classmates. His spirit is commendable... We should all learn from him."
Olivia watched in disbelief, inwardly scoffing. "What's the point of learning this? Am I supposed to learn how to stand on a table and fool the professor?"
She then leaned close to Hermione's ear and whispered a teasing laugh:
"Look, look! Our Young Master Malfoy has successfully helped his classmates and restore order to the classroom again! How amazing!"
Draco wasn't annoyed at all. He actually took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped the table he had stepped on, looking like a well-behaved student.
Hermione glared at him, both annoyed and amused, and said helplessly:
"Don't get cocky. You almost scared me to death. Don't do that again."
After wiping the table, Draco casually stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and said, "Well, it was just a whim."
Olivia secretly covered her mouth and chuckled from behind, whispering to Neville, "A sudden whim? I think it's more like a premeditated attempt to show off."
Hermione gave him a slight glare, pushed the textbook toward him, and whispered:
"Don't be so impulsive next time. You even fooled Professor Quirrell. If other professors had seen you doing this, you would have lost points."
"Class is starting... students, please turn to... your books... page... what was it again?"
Professor Quirrell stood at the podium, flipping through his textbook and lecturing haltingly for less than ten minutes before getting stuck on the magic channeling node of the defensive spell.
Faced with the bewildered looks of the students below, he simply passed the buck. "This, this problem... who, who can demonstrate it?"
Seeing that no one answered again, Professor Quirrell waved to Draco: "If no one answers, Malfoy, why don't you stand up and show everyone if you can solve this?"
After the commotion this morning, Quirrell finally understood how to handle the Defence Against Dark Magic class: capturing Draco Malfoy was definitely the right move.
Upon hearing Draco glanced at Hermione, stood up, and twirled his wand, his posture casual yet completely unperturbed.
He remained outwardly calm, but secretly he was delighted.
Anyway, every time I'm called on to answer a question, I can reliably gain a wave of Fortune Points. By helping the professor out of a tight spot and explaining questions to classmates, I can earn luck points. This business is a sure-fire way to make money.
Making money is nothing to be ashamed of.
Draco stepped forward and stood in front of the podium. He lightly tapped the air with his wand, and a pale golden aura of magic steadily formed. He then swiftly and decisively cast the corresponding defensive spell.
The incantation was precise, and the magic was stable, a hundred times better than the clumsy demonstration by Quirrell.
He also casually added a couple of key points, explaining the concepts that no one else seemed to understand clearly.
The students below stared in astonishment, even the Hufflepuff boy who had been defiant earlier silently began taking notes.
Seeing his effortless demeanor, Hermione's lips curled into a subtle smile, while she inwardly scoffed.
This guy certainly knows how to seize opportunities to show off, but I have to say, he's a hundred times more reliable than Quirrell.
Olivia, sitting in the back row, nudged Neville and chuckled softly:
"See? Professor Quirrell is completely dependent on him now. This isn't a Defence Against Dark Magic class; it's like we're having a private lesson with Malfoy."
After Draco finished answering the question, he caught a glimpse of the smile in Hermione's eyes out of the corner of his eye, deliberately raised an eyebrow at her, and then returned to his seat.
"So, are you ready to accept the loss?"
As Draco sat down, he leaned slightly towards Hermione and asked, "So, are you ready to accept the loss?"
Hermione glared at Draco and whispered her admission:
"... You win, I admit it this time."
Even after the Defence Against Dark Magic class ended, the classroom was still buzzing with discussion. Everyone felt that they had learned more in this class than in any other class before.
Someone was packing up their textbooks and said with a look of sudden realization:
"So that's how you channel magic for a defensive spell! I didn't understand a word Professor Quirrell explained before, but I finally get it today!"
One student, while highlighting key points, exclaimed, "From now on, as long as Malfoy is willing to lecture, I definitely won't fall asleep in class. It's much more effective than listening to the professor chanting spells."
Some people even secretly glanced back at the empty seats and muttered to themselves:
"Honestly... with him around, the classroom is much quieter, and my learning efficiency doubles."
And the one who started all of this.
Draco had long since grown tired of staying put to listen to these belated compliments.
With one hand in his robe pocket and the other casually beside Hermione, he chatted and laughed with Olivia, Neville, Harry, Ron, and the others, walking straight down the corridor toward the warmly lit Great Hall.