As Draco studied the bronze door knocker, the atmosphere around him gradually grew strange.
"Is that… Senior Clearwater?"
"And that's Malfoy from Slytherin?"
"Maybe I'm still half asleep. Yeah, that has to be it."
"She would never pay this much attention to a Slytherin."
"And he's acting all indifferent… don't get too full of yourself!"
"A Slytherin, of all people…"
Despite the sharp words, not a single one of them dared step forward.
After all, the wizard standing beside Penelope was Draco Malfoy.
None of them were confident enough to face whatever retaliation he might bring.
…
As one of the most prominent figures in Ravenclaw, calling Penelope a "super idol" among the younger students might be a slight exaggeration, but she was undeniably admired by most of the house.
Especially the younger students, who often gathered around her.
Even the Head Boy from Gryffindor was one of her admirers, which said enough about her charm.
In Draco's impression, Penelope was someone who spoke with sincerity, wore a gentle smile, and carried a warmth that felt entirely genuine.
Those qualities made people instinctively trust her and want to get closer to her. Combined with her looks, it was no surprise she was so well-liked.
As for whether that warmth was just an act, Draco could tell the difference.
She was genuine.
Her tolerance, her kindness, along with her status as a seventh-year, only reinforced the image of her as an approachable, older-sister figure.
Perhaps that was why, when these Ravenclaw students saw her treating Draco so differently, their reactions were filled with such obvious hostility.
It was the first time they had seen their "big sister" show such vivid emotion.
None of them had ever been treated that way.
So why did Draco get that kind of attention?
What they didn't know was that Penelope was currently full of frustration and annoyance toward Draco.
In a way… that was indeed a rather "special" treatment.
…
Perhaps she was too irritated to notice the strange looks around her. Penelope also failed to realize that she was far less composed than usual, even unconsciously ignoring how close she was standing to him.
In short—
Seeing that this not-so-likable junior still hadn't made a move, Penelope, eager to watch him struggle, curved her lips slightly.
"If you want to go in, just hold the knocker. Of course, you'll need to answer a small question."
"..."
"I'm sure this won't be a problem for our 'top student,' right?"
When she said "top student," she deliberately emphasized the words, as if hinting at something.
Draco cast her a brief glance. She seemed a little too close.
A faint fragrance lingered around her, paired with that teasing tone.
It was hard to imagine that the composed, reliable Penelope, who acted so mature in front of the prefects and served as a dependable senior to younger students, could have such a mischievous side.
Quite a contrast.
A flicker of surprise passed through Draco's eyes, but he didn't rise to the bait.
He was genuinely curious about the bronze knocker. The so-called question interested him as well, since this wasn't something you'd ever find written in books.
As for the possibility of failing and embarrassing himself, it had never even crossed his mind.
If anything, he simply didn't believe there was a question other students could answer that he could not.
As for the knocker's questions—
What Penelope hadn't mentioned was that they had nothing to do with magical knowledge, nor with everyday knowledge.
In other words, even a first-year could give the same answer as a seventh-year.
But at the same time, that meant no amount of reading would guarantee an answer.
"Hold the knocker, was it?"
Recalling her words, Draco stepped forward with interest and reached out his hand.
Penelope stood to the side with her arms crossed, watching him expectantly. In truth, even she didn't know what question he would be given.
Every person faced a different question.
Sometimes, there wasn't even a clear right or wrong answer. It didn't require correctness, only that the response satisfied the knocker.
That was the trap she had set for Draco.
…
The moment Draco grasped the bronze knocker, a chill spread instantly from his palm.
Before he could pull back, that cold sensation traveled through his body and into his mind.
What followed revealed the true nature of the object before him.
[Question: Which came first, fire or the Phoenix?]
So it's a magical artifact.
The moment he touched it, Draco "heard" the question, though the voice had no clear gender.
Instead of thinking about the question right away, Draco first glanced at the people around him.
That single look confirmed something.
No one else could hear it.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on the knocker in his hand.
He was familiar with objects like this, magical items that could speak directly into the mind.
Like the Sorting Hat. It might look shabby, but it was one of Dumbledore's prized possessions.
And now, here in Ravenclaw, he had come across something similar.
So…
Does this thing have its own consciousness?
The thought surfaced quietly in Draco's mind.