Harry had no choice but to step forward and meet the orange eyes of the large creature called Buckbeak. He bowed as Hagrid had instructed and then looked up.
Buckbeak stared fiercely at him, remaining unmoved, seemingly having no intention of bowing back.
The paddock was quiet, save for the students' heavy breathing; all eyes were fixed on Harry's movements. Hagrid, sensing something was wrong, nervously gestured for Harry to step back.
Harry looked flustered. He tried to back away, but his shoe accidentally stepped on a dry twig, making a sudden "crack."
Hermione was naturally very worried about Harry. Compared to the tall and mighty hippogriff, Harry's body looked extremely small.
At this moment, she had no time to be angry; worry overwhelmed all her emotions. She stared intently at the man and beast facing off on the grass, holding her breath, her heart pounding.
At that moment, Buckbeak suddenly bowed to Harry and the anxious students all breathed a collective sigh of relief.
However, something even more frightening happened: Harry's hand was reaching for its head, getting closer and closer to its cold, steely beak....
"Will it not suddenly bite him? It seems to be about to open its mouth..." Hermione's eyes widened.
Amidst these unsettling thoughts, she panicked and suddenly grabbed the hand of the boy beside her.
The boy did not flinch; instead, he instinctively reached out and grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers perfectly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Suddenly, the electric current she had felt before became clearer, spreading from her fingertips to the depths of Hermione's heart.
The sudden electric current froze her in place, rendering her completely still.
This has absolutely nothing to do with electrical faults or static electricity.
She thought, at a loss for words.
She did not know what was wrong with her why her heart was pounding so hard, and why her mind was completely blank.
She even felt as if there was a tiny heartbeat between her fingers.
"He will be alright, do not be afraid." His gaze did not leave Harry; he just tilted his head slightly and whispered in her ear.
Perhaps because of the breeze, a couple of platinum blonde hairs touched her earlobe, making her feel a little ticklish.
His hand was still wrapped around hers, as gentle as the autumn breeze.
She suddenly remembered that one night in Bath, he had held her hand in a dimly lit corridor, and she could almost still smell the scent of roses that had filled the air at that time.
And there was Professor Slughorn's stuffy potion-making room, where he had held her hand firmly as he stirred potions. His hair had brushed against her ear as he leaned closer to examine the cauldron. She could almost still feel that tickle on her earlobe.
Or perhaps, in that compartment where the Dementors appeared, he had shielded her, holding her hand tightly, and cast a powerful spell to ward off the monstrous creature. Her heart seemed to pound as fiercely as it had then so fiercely that she could hear it in her ears.
Harry had already ridden away on Buckbeak. Most of the students on the ground followed Buckbeak's shadow with a rushing sound.
Only Hermione remained rooted to the spot.
Her heart was still pounding at a rate that terrified her. It did not seem to be solely because Harry had disappeared into the sky on a seemingly dangerous creature, but for some other, unknown reason.
Hagrid walked up to her with a smug grin, rubbing his large hands together as he asked, "How was my first lesson, Hermione?"
"It was very.... very wonderful," she stammered, hastily releasing the hand that had been so easily held captive by her memories.
"I got up at five o'clock this morning to prepare. I wanted to leave a good impression on everyone." Hagrid's large beard could not hide his smile.
Hermione smiled at him encouragingly.
Hagrid looked very pleased with himself for receiving praise from Hermione. He happily ran to the paddock and enthusiastically invited the students to go and see the other hippogriffs.
After Harry's bold flight, the students were clearly less afraid. Some students were even eager to try, pestering Hagrid with questions, and the grounds were filled with a lively atmosphere.
Draco did not gather around like the other students. He was clenching his empty hands, looking lost, and found some peace and quiet under a sycamore tree.
When Hagrid came to Hermione, she abruptly released his hand... just as abruptly as she had grasped it.
Thinking about this he walked away dejectedly.
The idea of "maintaining a safe distance" was probably just wishful thinking.
Draco gazed at her hair being gently blown by the wind, lost in thought.
He seemed completely unable to refuse her. If she wanted to hold his hand, he could only let her hold it... and even hold it tighter.
For a moment, he had not wanted to let her go. Her hand had strangely filled the emptiness in his heart that had been there for so many days; then it cruelly withdrew, leaving his heart even emptier.
This cruel girl.
She emptied his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and stomach. Even his mouth was dry and thirsty, desperately craving a certain taste.
The taste of green apples.
Draco resignedly pulled the green apple from his pocket and took a bite out of sheer restlessness.
If you cannot fill your heart, at least fill your stomach.
He thought absently as he looked at her face, which glowed with a rosy pink in the sunlight.
The ordinary apple made a crisp sound.
Hermione turned to look at him and noticed certain details about him biting into the apple that she could not ignore.
She could smell the fresh, sweet aroma, mixed with the slow, deliberate sound of him chewing, which made her feel strangely unsettled.
It was very strange. His gaze remained fixed on her the whole time he was biting into the apple.
For a moment, she felt like she was that green apple.
This idea is utterly absurd. "Hermione Granger, are you going mad?" she said to herself.
"Are you not going to look? A hippogriff with the body of a horse and wings?" Under his stubborn gaze, she tried to find her normal voice.
"Oh, no.... I am really not interested in that sort of thing. Believe me, this is entirely for Hagrid's own good." Draco glanced at Hagrid from afar, recalling his past grievances and disputes with Hagrid over this very matter. He did not want any unpleasant interaction with this newly appointed teacher.
In this life, he had absolutely no interest in "enraging" this animal
He shook his head, leaned casually against the thick tree trunk, and tried to focus more on the green apple in his hand.
"That is the most flimsy excuse I have ever heard," Hermione said dryly.
It seemed as if a little voice in her head was telling her that it was dangerous to step forward, and that it would lead to unpredictable consequences; but she could not help but step forward and get closer to him.
She tilted her head slightly to look at the platinum-blonde-haired boy, whose eyelashes were tinged with a pale gold by the sunlight filtering through the treetops.
Draco did not say anything, but raised his eyelids and smiled at her.
"Why do you always have green apples in your pocket?" Hermione asked him with a helpless smile, trying to hide her surging emotions.
"Want some?" he asked her, his expression utterly innocent.
"No, I am not hungry." Hermione stared at his hand.... the hand that had just intertwined with hers. His well-proportioned hand was bent into a strong arc, gripping the juicy green apple.
She suppressed her panic and asked him with concern, "Are you not full?"
"I was full. But lately I have been feeling hungry." The boy in front of her casually licked the juice from his lips, a hint of pleasure in his grey eyes as he stared intently at her. "Oh, perhaps it is not hunger..... perhaps I simply like the taste."
Hermione stared at his lips, suddenly at a loss for words. Her replies were incoherent, and her gaze was strange.
She felt her face flush. Perhaps she should abandon this topic. Perhaps she should talk about something else. Perhaps she should look at the hippogriffs instead of keeping her eyes fixed on the boy's face.
She wanted to look away, but did not know where to look. A breeze gently brushed her cheek, and she heard the sycamore trees above her rustling.
She looked up, bewildered, and saw the first autumn leaf swirling down from the sky, passing over his platinum blonde hair and pale grey, clear eyes, before finally landing softly on the still-green grass with a soft sound.
This gentle sound strikes right to the heart.
It disrupted her pulse.
Hermione Granger sensed something was very wrong.
Yes, something was very wrong. Ever since she finished Care of Magical Creatures, she had been feeling a tightness in her chest and her face was burning.
"Was it too windy near the Forbidden Forest? You may have caught a chill. Autumn is here, and it is easy to catch cold," Hagrid said to her with concern. "You seemed a bit listless during the second half of class. Why do you not go to the Hospital Wing and get some medicine?"
So, as the school bell rang, she hurried from the Forbidden Forest back to the castle, knocked on Madam Pomfrey's door, and asked her for a pick-me-up potion.
Madam Pomfrey gave the young Malfoy boy waiting at the door a suspicious look, then examined Hermione, but ultimately said nothing and gave her the Pepperup Potion anyway.
"One dose is enough," she instructed, seeing Hermione, who thanked her profusely, out the door.
As the door closed, Madam Pomfrey whispered to herself, "In any case, there is no harm in taking precautions."
"I hate this stuff!" Hermione complained as she drank her potion outside the door, steam rising in wisps from her ears. "Why does Pepperup Potion make your ears steam for hours... is there any way to improve it and eliminate that side effect?"
"Something we could look into. But are you alright?" Draco asked with concern.
What did he say?
With her carefree and uncaring nature, she will catch a cold sooner or later.
She dropped the empty potion bottle into the bin outside the Hospital Wing, sneezed, and said listlessly, "This is terrible."
"You look terrible." He approached her with a serious expression, bent down slightly, brushed his hair aside, and pressed his forehead against hers to feel her temperature.
Hermione's eyes widened suddenly.
His face was very close to hers, the tip of his nose almost touching hers, carrying the fresh air unique to young men.
Too close... too close.... her heartbeat experienced another wave of turmoil.
"What are your symptoms now?" He moved away from her forehead, but his grey eyes remained fixed on her.
"My face is burning, my ears are throbbing, my legs are weak, and my heart is beating very fast...." she began with difficulty, listing a series of abnormal symptoms.
"Your temperature is still normal, but your face is definitely red... it seems even redder than before." Draco looked her up and down for a while, puzzled, and then simply pulled her arm to sit down on the bench by the door. "Let us rest for a bit."
Hermione nodded, feeling dizzy and disoriented.
After pondering for a while about why she was not feeling well, he finally frowned and said, "I told you long ago that Care of Magical Creatures was unreliable...dragging someone to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to be exposed to the cold wind...."
"Oh, this has nothing to do with Hagrid." Hermione raised her hand listlessly and waved it dismissively. "I have not seen anyone else catch a cold."
"That means you are under too much academic pressure. Good heavens, it is only the first day of school!" Draco casually flipped through the books she had brought with her. "'Unfogging The Future'? Why did you bring that? Do you need to take that course?"
Hearing his question, Hermione wanted to turn around and refute him, but suddenly, she caught a glimpse of his profile and felt a sudden, sharp sensation, as if her lungs were suffocating.
She felt like she was going to die.
It must be a side effect of that Pepperup Potion!
She thought, her eyes stinging.
"And there is 'Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles.' What is that a textbook for Muggle Studies? You are a Muggle-born witch; do you really need to read this?" Draco asked, flipping through the book.
Hermione did not dare look at him again.
"I think it is very interesting to study Muggles from a wizard's perspective... it opens up a different viewpoint..." she said weakly, clenching her fist. Because her ears were practically steaming, she could not muster her usual vigour and could not explain the significance of Muggle Studies to her.
"Even if you are interested, you do not need to carry these books with you at all times, do you? You have classes all day today ....when do you find the time to read these?" Draco said helplessly.
Hermione did not know how to answer, so she clutched her collar and huddled on the bench without saying a word.
"Where are you going next? Back to your dormitory to rest for a while?" Draco asked.
"Oh no, I still have to go to the library to finish Professor McGonagall's essay..." Hermione struggled to her feet.
She saw Draco's expression darken instantly.
"You are ill," he reminded her.
"I am not that ill. In fact, I am almost better!" she said, her face flushed.
"Fine." He looked displeased, picked up her pile of books, and strode away.
"Where are you taking my books?" Hermione was extremely alarmed, ignoring her dishevelled appearance, and jogged to catch up with him.
"The library!" he said impatiently, subtly slowing his pace. "Are you going to carry this mountain of books all by yourself? You are ill.... what are you trying to prove?"
"Oh... thank you," she said softly.
"Of course you should thank me. I would not even carry my own books myself!" Draco said with a hint of arrogance, whilst carefully tightening the stack of books in his arms.
Hermione followed him, swinging her arms.....she was still sneezing unpleasantly from the effects of the potion and a subtle smile appeared on her lips.
Madam Pomfrey stood quietly for a long time behind the door of the Hospital Wing.
She watched the departing boy and girl with gleaming eyes and exclaimed softly, "Oh my... how sweet!"
"Ugh, it is so bitter." In the ward, behind the curtain of a certain bed, a dark-haired patient complained weakly, holding a cup of medicine. His handsome but thin face was contorted with displeasure.
"Sirius, you are not a child anymore. Do you still need me to feed you a sweet? Drink it all I dare you to leave a single drop!" Madam Pomfrey's eyes flashed, she put her hands on her hips, and transformed back into the stern and capable school Matron she was.