Late at night, the Gryffindor girls' dormitory was already quiet, with the even breathing of the roommates echoing softly in the room.
Only the faint light filtering through the cracks in the fireplace cast soft shadows on the walls.
Hermione, however, remained awake, her eyes wide open.
The events of the day kept replaying in her mind.
She harbored too many unanswered questions in her heart, and the quieter she was, the clearer she became.
Once he was sure that Olivia, Lavender, and Parvati beside him were all fast asleep, he realized that they were all sound asleep.
Hermione quietly draped the blanket over herself, slipped on her shoes, and tried not to make a sound before sneaking out of the dormitory.
The tower's staircase was quiet and dimly lit, with only moonlight streaming through the glass windows at the top, creating a silvery path.
She had intended to find a place to sort out her thoughts, but as soon as she reached the platform connecting the common lounge and the stairs, she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Draco stood in the moonlight.
He leaned against the cold stone wall, relaxed, as if he had been waiting for a long time.
Hermione was extremely surprised. She quickly walked up to him and scolded in a low voice, "What are you doing here? It's so late, why aren't you in your dorm getting some sleep?"
Draco looked up at her:
"I just woke up too. I know my wife has something on her mind and can't sleep, so I'm waiting for you here."
A single sentence gently touched her heart, and Hermione's heart warmed instantly, as if she were being gently enveloped by the softest thing in the dead of night.
But she still frowned and whispered, "Don't do that again next time. It's cold at night, and you'll get sick if you wait too long."
Draco chuckled softly, stepped forward, and naturally took her slightly cool hand in his.
"Don't worry, I'm not that delicate. Besides, waiting for you is never a waste of time."
He didn't say much, but simply led Hermione away from the dormitory building.
As soon as the two stepped into the Room of Requirement, the warm and soft light completely shut out the chill of the night.
The room was so quiet that only their soft breathing could be heard.
Hermione, who had been on edge all night, felt a little relieved in this absolutely safe space, but the doubts in her eyes remained heavy.
She didn't ask any further questions, but Draco had already read everything from her tight lips and furrowed brows.
He gently pulled Hermione to sit down on the soft velvet sofa, his usual nonchalance gone, and his expression turned serious.
" Hermione, Quirrell releasing Troll to create chaos is neither an accident nor simply mischief."
"He's possessed by Voldemort, and he's hiding in the back of Quirrell's head."
The moment the words left her lips, Hermione seemed to be frozen in place by an invisible spell.
Her eyes widened in an instant, her breath stopped abruptly, and even her fingers trembled slightly uncontrollably.
Her once rosy cheeks instantly lost all color, turning deathly pale. Her lips were slightly parted, but she couldn't utter a sound.
Voldemort...
That dark wizard whose very name inspires fear.
That demon that everyone thought had long since disappeared, existing only in horror stories and history books.
Hermione's mind went blank, and all the previously scattered doubts began to piece together frantically at this moment.
Professor Quirrell's always-covered headscarf, his shifty, evasive eyes, his inexplicable panic, his deliberate attempts to create chaos...
All the irrationalities now have the most reasonable explanation.
She wanted to say "That's impossible," and to retort that " Voldemort is long dead," but looking at Draco's unwavering gaze, she couldn't utter a single word.
After a long while, she finally said:
" Voldemort... wasn't he... disappeared? How could he... how could he be possessing Professor Quirrell?"
He looked at Hermione's still shocked face, gave her some time to process it, and then laid out the core truth layer by layer.
" Quirrell didn't suddenly go mad. He went to the forest, where he encountered Voldemort, who hadn't yet regained his physical form, and was possessed by him."
Hermione flinched.
Forest, Voldemort, possession... these words exploded into a blank in her mind.
"So he always wore a thick turban, not because of his injury, not because of custom, but to hide Voldemort's mark on the back of his head."
Every word Draco uttered shattered Hermione's previously secure understanding.
"Do you remember Professor Dumbledore's seemingly inexplicable reminder at the opening ceremony? He explicitly said—don't go to the fourth-floor corridor."
Hermione's pupils contracted sharply.
Of course she remembers.
She took that statement as just a regular school rule warning, and even casually jotted down a note in her notebook. "Danger area, do not enter."
But now, with Draco's touch, all the fragments suddenly fell back into place in her mind.
A cold, clear, and terrifying line instantly connected everything.
Hermione gasped sharply, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably, her face even paler than before.
She finally understood completely.
The Troll's escape was not accidental at all.
Quirrell didn't suddenly lose control.
It was all to create chaos, to distract all the professors, so that he could seize the opportunity to rush to the Third Floor Corridor and take what was being guarded.
Dumbledore had already secretly reminded everyone on the first day of school.
"He... he wants..." Hermione's voice trembled, "He wants that thing that was being protected?"
The thought that she had been so close to the core of the plan tonight, and had even fought Troll head-on, sent a chill down her spine.
She had always thought she was dealing with a sudden danger, until this moment she realized it.
What they inadvertently stumbled upon was a massive conspiracy concerning the safety of the entire wizarding world.
Hermione looked up at Draco, her eyes filled with a mixture of shock, lingering fear, and a hint of clarity.
"Tonight... we did more than just fight a Troll, didn't we?"
"We almost walked right into Voldemort's plan."
Draco, seeing Hermione's pale face and trembling fingers, gently reached out and touched her face:
"Don't panic, Hermione! All of this is still under Professor Dumbledore's control."
These words were like a reassuring pill, settling into Hermione's panicked mind.
She looked up at Draco abruptly, her eyes still lingering with fear, but her tense shoulders relaxed slightly at that moment.
" Professor Dumbledore... he knew all along?" Her voice carried an element of uncertainty.
Draco nodded. "He's been watching Quirrell ever since he started acting strangely."
Hermione stared at him blankly, her mind racing.
Dumbledore's all-seeing eyes, his gentle yet unfathomable smile, and his perfectly timed composure whenever he appeared...
In an instant, all my anxieties found solace.
She always trusted Dumbledore the most; as long as the old man was still in control, it meant things weren't beyond redemption.
She let out a long sigh of relief, her tense chest finally relaxed, and the fear in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by a sense of relief at surviving a disaster.
She instinctively moved a little closer to Draco.
"So that's how it is... I was really scared just now. I thought... we had committed a terrible crime, that Voldemort was about to return."