The power of the Patronus Charm had nothing to do with the size of the Patronus, nor with the type of creature it took. Every wizard present understood that Pansy had achieved something far beyond the reach of the average wizard.
But that was impossible.
Ignoring the meaning behind the looks directed at him, the Head Boy widened his eyes and stared fixedly at the little dog wagging its tail wildly at Pansy's feet, as if sheer force of will might expose some flaw.
He looked as though, if he stared hard enough, the so-called Patronus would vanish into thin air the next second.
It had to be an illusion.
But once someone stepped into the second stage, it meant they had truly grasped the key to the Patronus Charm. It wouldn't simply fail a moment later.
Unless the caster had changed souls.
"No way! I refuse to accept this!!"
Unable to face reality, the Head Boy let out a hoarse, furious shout, his eyes bloodshot and his teeth clenched tight. The humiliating display only reinforced Pansy's earlier description of him as a stray dog.
Only the weak lie to themselves.
It was only after hearing that resentful roar that Pansy remembered there was still a group standing opposite her. She stopped bickering with Hermione and looked back at the Gryffindors, who had clearly lost their earlier confidence.
Especially the Head Boy—his twisted expression was deeply satisfying. Pansy nudged the little dog at her feet with the tip of her shoe, as if in triumph.
After withdrawing her gaze and letting out a soft, cold laugh, she turned back to Draco.
"The Patronus Charm isn't that hard after all, Draco."
"You're right."
She gave her wand a small flick, and the Patronus dog obediently rolled over at her feet. Draco nodded without hesitation.
Hermione, who had overheard everything, rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible.
In her mind, she was practically shouting—
Patronuses are not actual pets! Stop making it roll over for you!
And weren't you the one who said this was advanced magic?!
...
If Harry Potter's Patronus had initially drawn most of the attention away from Draco's side, then the appearance of a silver dog that could shake hands made it impossible to ignore them any longer.
"What's going on over there?"
"Isn't that… Malfoy and the others? The Head Boy's there too…"
"You mean the Malfoy who knocked the Head Boy flying a few days ago?"
"Flying? I heard he got stepped on by Malfoy and crawled out of the Hog's Head."
"So it really is because Malfoy snatched Penelope from him that the Head Boy challenged Malfoy?"
The discussion drifted in a strange direction, but gradually their attention shifted to the little dog sitting at Pansy's feet.
No one present was a fool. They immediately recognized what it was.
Especially that unmistakable silver glow identical to any Patronus—it made the dog's identity obvious.
"Another Patronus?"
"Who cast it? Don't tell me…"
"It looks like it, but how is that possible?"
Disbelief, shock, admiration, doubt.
In an instant, Pansy became the center of countless complicated gazes.
Facing them, she adopted an aloof posture, casually brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. Though petite, she exuded an air that seemed to look down on everyone present.
Her calm expression made it seem as though this were nothing more than a trivial accomplishment.
And that very arrogance made the already resentful Head Boy clench his fists and mutter darkly,
"So what? I'd bet the Malfoy behind you couldn't possibly master the Patronus Charm. That's a Death Eater!!"
"..."
"..."
Though his voice wasn't loud, in the silence it might as well have been a shout.
Astoria, who had been smiling quietly the entire time, slowly let that smile fade. The look she directed at him turned icy, sharp as midwinter.
Even if he was a senior.
Hermione, as a fellow Gryffindor, had finally had enough of the repeated provocations.
Just as she stepped forward to argue, Draco lifted his snake-headed cane and gently blocked her path.
"Draco, don't stop me. Even if he's from Gryffindor—"
"Leave it to me."
"…You're not about to hit him again, are you?"
The moment Hermione finished speaking, the Head Boy—who had been so aggressive just seconds ago—seemed to remember something.
He instinctively stumbled back several steps.
That obvious retreat immediately drew strange, subtle looks from the surrounding wizards—and even from his own companions.
Only then did he seem to realize what he'd done. But the flush creeping up his face and the way his feet refused to step forward betrayed the panic in his heart… and just how little courage he actually had.
Not far away, Penelope, who had been watching the commotion without wanting to get involved, finally had no choice but to step forward when she saw Draco move.
If her partner ended up in the Hospital Wing again, she would be the one dealing with the aftermath.
What she hadn't expected, however, was that he would be the one to lose his nerve first.
"Wait! Apologize to Malfoy and the others. Now."
"Head Boy?!"
The look on his face—shock mixed with a silent accusation of Why aren't you backing me up?—made Penelope fight the urge to roll her eyes.
Rubbing her temple, clearly unwilling to argue with a partner whose judgment seemed to have gone missing, Penelope quickly turned to Draco, who was calmly drawing his wand from within his snake-headed cane.
The surrounding wizards, already familiar with Draco's strength, had backed away the instant they saw that motion. Some of them even looked excited.
The smooth, almost knightly motion of drawing his wand, combined with the circle of empty space that had unconsciously formed around him like a dueling ground, sent a chill down Penelope's spine.
From the corner of her eye, she could see the Head Boy's legs trembling.
Seriously…
Why did you have to provoke him in the first place?