When Draco and Hermione emerged from Slughorn's room, the midday sun had turned into a gentle sunset, and the light in the corridor had dimmed somewhat.
Hermione let out a long sigh, then looked helplessly at the boy beside her. "Draco, you are too reckless! I always make potions according to the clear instructions in the book, but you always mess around."
"The result is good, is that not enough?" he said dismissively.
"How can that be the same? The methods in books have often been verified by various Potion Masters, making them more authoritative, is that not right? How can you change them arbitrarily and disrespect knowledge?" she asked.
Although she went along with him this time for certain reasons, it did not mean she agreed with such arbitrary changes to the operation.
As they spoke, they strolled to a corner of the courtyard. It was quiet and secluded, with only a few solitary carved benches and clusters of dense rose bushes.
"I understand what you mean. The brewing of any potion must be precise, specific, and delicate to achieve a certain perfect balance." Draco sat down with Hermione in an ornate chair, paused, and seeing Hermione's approving look, continued:
"However, you may not be aware that making advanced potions is a different matter. The reason why advanced potions are difficult to brew, and why Potion Masters can gain fame and fortune, is because only a very few people can successfully brew them. Do you reckon that everyone fails to brew them because they do not strictly follow the steps?"
Hermione's expression grew complicated. She asked, puzzled, "So, the problem lies in the steps themselves? Then why not update the improved method?"
Draco smiled lazily.
"Do you remember what I said? Rarity makes it precious." He gestured for Hermione to look at the rose bush beside them. It was a neatly trimmed clump of red rose bushes, with one or two white roses scattered amongst them.
"Do you reckon one or two white roses are more memorable than the remaining dozens of red roses in this clump of roses?" He casually picked one of the white roses, smelt it lightly, and handed it to Hermione.
Hermione took the white rose thoughtfully, frowning as she stared at it.
Draco glanced at her, seeing her still looking confused, and decided to kindly explain, "As far as I know, many advanced potion recipes in books are flawed; they are inherently imperfect. Whilst the basic framework is correct, there are always hidden secrets in the details of specific operations. The reason Potion Masters are so popular is simply because they have figured out these details through personal talent or word-of-mouth transmission between masters and apprentices. This is their livelihood, the secret to their wealth and glory—how could they possibly reveal it completely?"
"This is simply absurd—"
"Look at Mr Slughorn's room, and you can probably tell he is living a life of luxury. He can brew all sorts of advanced potions to earn extra Galleons, sell them to the apothecary, and live a very comfortable retirement," Draco said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If everyone could brew potions as easily as you and me, would anyone still want to patronise the apothecary? Would the apothecary still need to order potions from Mr Slughorn? If nobody needed him, would this Potions Master not starve to death on the streets?"
Hermione clutched the white rose tightly and whispered, "But—"
"But?" He raised an eyebrow.
"But that is not fair," she said indignantly, raising her voice.
Draco gave a mocking laugh, turned to look at her, as if he had heard the most ridiculous thing in the world: "You are talking to me about fairness?"
"Yes, it is unfair. It is a monopoly of knowledge, even a waste of resources! Just because a few people want to maintain their superior position, they control people's thoughts, arbitrarily build barriers of knowledge, and prevent others from entering the garden of truth. Is that not unfair?" Hermione said indignantly.
Draco looked at her in surprise, not expecting her to say such a thing.
Hermione lowered her eyes. "You grew up in a wizarding family, surrounded by the knowledge and resources of the wizarding world. I imagine you must have a vast collection of books about magic, some of which even Hogwarts might not have..."
He saw her staring blankly at the white rose in her hand, a sad expression on her face. "Also, you can consult a powerful Potion Master and easily acquire secrets that others may never know in their entire lives. For you, it is just a matter of a word from an elder."
"That is not entirely true—" Draco tried to argue with her.
She interrupted him, turning her gaze to the red roses not far away, so dazzling yet so unnoticed. "And those Muggle-born wizards, who can only acquire all their knowledge from books, can only regard diligence as their sole asset, only to find that they are merely worshipping the wrong methods as the golden rule..."
Draco's mouth moved as if to speak. He wanted to say something, but found himself speechless.
"I have always, always tried so hard to learn these things. I read all sorts of books, reckoning that this would allow me to catch up with you… I reckoned knowledge could make up for the gap in our backgrounds, as long as I was diligent and hardworking enough… as long as I devoted more time to academics, I reckoned that one day I would surpass you, surpass you… But what if even knowledge has its barriers…"
Hermione could not continue. She curled up in his jacket, which he had not yet returned, and buried her head deeply in her knees.
From the rise and fall of her back and the slight trembling of her body, Draco was certain that she was crying.
Subconsciously, he wanted to refute something, but he could not find a way to argue.
He recalled the countless days and nights Hermione Granger had spent engrossed in reading those thick books in the library.
I once really wanted to know why she worked so hard.
I was once very puzzled as to what motivated her to study so diligently.
Now I finally understand.
Hermione Granger is studying with immense insecurity.
She lacked security from the very beginning. From the moment she boarded the Hogwarts Express, she had confided her anxieties to me. At the time, I dismissed them, knowing how dazzling she would become.
But she herself did not know.
She did not know what kind of outstanding girl she would grow up to be. Filled with worry and anxiety, she studied diligently, wanting to integrate into wizarding society as quickly as possible. She did everything she could to make up for the shortcomings left by her absence from wizarding society over the past ten years.
He suddenly realised that she was struggling with something.
Hermione Granger has the strongest pride and competitiveness in the world. She does not want to lose to anyone.
A Muggle-born girl who wants to succeed in the wizarding world can only rely on her own diligence and hard work; there are no extra resources to spare. Why should they not be given those resources?
If there are errors in a book, she can only learn those errors and firmly believe that they are the truth.
It is perfectly reasonable for her to feel wronged about this.
There existed an invisible barrier within the wizarding world, along with countless unspoken rules. Where there were beneficiaries, there were correspondingly oppressed. This was true of any society.
As one of the beneficiaries, Draco himself was numb.