Based on past experience, even if you stay inside Hogwarts Castle without going out, you can still hear the cheers coming from the direction of the Quidditch Pitch.
From the high towers of Gryffindor House in particular, people can even catch faint glimpses of figures flying above the pitch through the windows.
By contrast, because of its location, Slytherin House, where Draco and the others were staying, did not have such an interesting view.
What they had instead was something different.
Whenever the Quidditch match grew more intense, the lake above their common room would begin to surge and roll, the water churning as if it had been brought to a boil.
It was a strange and spectacular sight visible only to Slytherin students, something that could certainly be counted as one of the house's unique features.
But today, the water above them seemed unusually calm.
Pansy glanced up at the lake overhead and blinked in surprise.
"Now I'm suddenly curious about how the match is going."
The hint of excitement in Pansy's voice made Hermione, sitting nearby, roll her eyes in an almost teasing way.
Although she wasn't a Slytherin and didn't particularly care for Quidditch as a sport, she still had a rough idea of what Pansy had arranged.
"Do we really need to check? Even if I don't understand all the tactics, without Draco and those teammates who've been working together for years, how are those 'newcomers' supposed to win? If the result's already obvious, what's there to watch?"
"I know that. What I'm surprised about is… shouldn't there be more noise?"
"What do you mean?"
Since Hermione wasn't familiar with the strange sight only Slytherin students could see, she followed Pansy's gaze up at the lake above them. But it looked no different than usual, leaving her completely confused about what Pansy meant.
Could you somehow see a prophecy through the water or something?
Just as the two girls leaned close and whispered to each other, the common room door, which they had assumed wouldn't open until the match ended, was suddenly pushed open.
Perhaps the person outside hadn't expected the common room to be so crowded.
Or perhaps they themselves were surprised that so many people had come in.
As the Slytherin students filed into the common room one after another, the lively chatter that had filled the room moments ago abruptly fell silent.
Sensing something was wrong, Pansy and Hermione quietly turned their attention toward the doorway.
Whether it was just their imagination or not, Pansy noticed that every one of the Slytherin students who entered first glanced toward where Draco was sitting before lowering their heads, their expressions hesitant, as if they wanted to speak but couldn't.
It was the look of people who felt like they had done something wrong.
And there were quite a lot of them.
The strange reaction wasn't difficult to understand, especially for Pansy, who had already expected the outcome. She let out a quiet breath, said nothing, and simply pretended not to notice them.
Although Hermione felt just as satisfied, what caught her attention first was something else. Realizing something was off, she nudged Pansy with her elbow.
"If I remember correctly, there should still be quite a while before the match ends, right?"
"Hmm... now that you mention it, I really want to go see what interesting things are happening. Goyle!"
"Boss lady?"
"Go ask those people how the match is going."
Even though she knew she could always hear about the match later from others, curiosity got the better of her. Much like a criminal instinctively returning to the scene of the crime, Pansy, as the mastermind behind the whole plan, couldn't help wanting to hear the news directly from the people who had just come back.
What none of them realized, Hermione included, was that they had seriously underestimated the influence Draco had built up at Hogwarts over the past few years.
Just as Goyle cracked his knuckles and started toward those unfortunate Slytherins, the lake above their heads suddenly began to sway.
Through the water, a dark shape could vaguely be seen thrashing about, rolling through the lake as if something had been jolted awake and was now raging.
Hermione, who had never witnessed such a sight before, immediately looked up in surprise and curiosity.
This was a scene the books had never mentioned, and likely never would.
"What's going on? Nothing bad happened, did it?"
"No, this is normal. It should be..."
If it had been at the start of a Quidditch match, Pansy would have sounded much more certain. But right now, even she wasn't so sure.
Draco, who had also lifted his gaze toward the ceiling, now wore a thoughtful expression.
...
The Ministry of Magic.
Unlike Muggle buildings that stretch ever higher into the sky, the Ministry of Magic, which oversees all affairs in the British wizarding world, was built downward.
The deeper one went, the more secretive and tightly guarded the departments became. Some levels were even rumored to be unknown floors.
Among them, the ninth underground level of the Ministry housed a department that many wizards had heard of.
It was called the Department of Mysteries.
This was the most secretive organization within the Ministry of Magic.
No one truly knew what work was carried out there, nor could anyone say how many wizards served in the department. It never recruited publicly. Instead, it seemed to follow its own internal methods. Even the Minister of Magic had no authority to interfere with its work or its selection of personnel.
Because the tasks handled there were all top secret, the wizards who worked in that department were known as the Unspeakables.
From Level Eight of the Ministry of Magic, descending to Level Nine.
A deep rumbling sound echoed.
It was hard to imagine seeing something like an elevator here, a machine more commonly associated with the Muggle world, especially inside the Ministry of Magic, one of the most important institutions in the wizarding world.
Yet the wizard standing inside the lift showed no curiosity at all. He calmly watched as the elevator slowly descended.
Beyond the elevator, everything was pitch black.
There was nothing to see around them. The only way to tell what was happening was the sensation of steadily moving deeper underground.
If one looked closely, however, there was a trace of unease on the wizard's face. His fingers repeatedly rubbed at his collar, betraying his uncertainty about the decision that had brought him here.
Strangely enough, though, the way he had come down and operated the elevator earlier had been very practiced. It did not look like the behavior of someone visiting this place for the first time.
To be precise, he could not afford to be unfamiliar with it.
After all, this wizard was the most powerful figure in the Ministry of Magic, at least on the surface.
He was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.