A sudden voice interrupted Draco's fantasy.
He subconsciously wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, shifting his gaze toward the center.
"This question is a giveaway!"
He declared loudly, a hint of pride in his voice.
His confident tone instantly caught everyone's attention.
Could it be… Draco actually knew the answer?
Even Snape looked away from the hovering projection and turned his gaze toward Draco.
His expression was complicated—an indescribable mixture of helplessness at his secret about to be exposed, yet also faint relief.
As a Wizard skilled in Occlumency, Snape carried many secrets in his heart.
But the matter concerning Lily… that was the one secret he wished no one would ever uncover—besides Dumbledore.
Because he still loved her.
Deeply.
"You know the answer?" Seeing Draco's mysteriously confident expression, Harry couldn't help it.
For the first time, he actively asked his archenemy a question.
"Of course, Potter." Draco answered slowly—deliberately.
Unspeakable excitement flickered in his eyes as he looked at Harry.
This time, you're destined to be trampled under my feet.
"Didn't you read the question?"
"Oh, right, I forgot—you're a stupid Potter. A stupid Gryffindor!"
When Draco said this, he completely missed the way Professor Dumbledore's eyes lingered on him—eyes filled with an unreadable expression.
"Does this question even need thinking? Anyone with eyes can see the right answer."
Draco said arrogantly.
Harry was speechless—angry and baffled.
What did he mean by not reading the question? And what did he mean by anyone with eyes could see the answer?
If you know the correct answer, say it—why put on an act?
"Wood! Look here, look at our Slytherin elite!"
"Draco will definitely get this question right!"
Marcus shouted proudly at Wood from the Slytherin crowd.
Wood ignored him, though he couldn't deny he also felt a sliver of worry.
Could Draco actually know the correct answer this time?
"What do we do, Wood? Draco looks like he really knows it!"
Lee Jordan whispered urgently, lowering his voice.
"It's alright. Even if Draco gets this question right, there are still three more. We need to trust Harry and the others."
It wasn't Wood who said this, but Percy, who had suddenly appeared behind them—looking more tense than anyone.
His youngest brother was participating in the quiz. Even though they argued constantly, Percy still felt proud of him.
Percy was contradictory like that.
On one hand, he cared deeply about honor, reputation, and power.
On the other hand—perhaps even he didn't fully realize it—he cared just as deeply for his family.
Seeing Percy, Wood reluctantly suppressed the urge to "discuss" things with Marcus.
"Let's wait and see. We'll have time to mock them later. Let Marcus be smug for now."
"Oh, what's wrong? Speechless?"
Marcus continued taunting them without restraint.
He would never let a golden opportunity to kick Gryffindor when they were down slip away.
Dangerous sparks flashed in the Gryffindor students' eyes.
But they held back.
Because Professor McGonagall was watching.
The Slytherins, however, were thoroughly emboldened.
"So—what is your choice, Draco?"
Aiden looked at Draco calmly, genuinely curious whether Draco would choose differently.
"Isn't it obvious? Professor Snape must have been instructed by Dumbledore to specifically target Harry. So my choice is that one. I choose option C."
Draco's firm answer immediately stirred the hall.
Indeed, it did seem like the most logical option:
The first answer was absurd.
The fourth was too vague to understand.
No one believed Harry was Snape's illegitimate son—anyone with knowledge of Wizarding history knew Harry's parentage.
And Snape? Fall in love?
With who?
Just look at his cold face. Impossible.
Draco's confidence suddenly seemed… justified.
Harry looked at Dumbledore, a knot forming in his chest.
Did Professor Dumbledore really ask Snape to target me?
Why?
Dumbledore noticed Harry's troubled gaze immediately—and understood the boy's thoughts—but showed no reaction.
He already knew the real answer.
It wasn't as simple as Draco believed.
Nor as complicated as Harry feared.
But he couldn't reveal it.
He couldn't be the one to say it.
Snape's gaze flickered toward Draco, then shifted briefly to Dumbledore, and finally to Harry.
Harry had no idea what that meant.
"It seems Draco got it right!"
"Did he actually guess correctly?"
Surprised voices filled the hall.
It really looked like Draco had lucked out.
"That Malfoy kid really stepped in dog shit today."
Wood muttered irritably, glaring at the smug Marcus.
Several Gryffindors nodded in agreement.
"Let them be smug for now. We'll give them joy later."
"George, how can you say that? We are delivering joy—bringing joy to everyone."
"You're right, Fred. My mistake. We're going to bring joy to the Slytherins."
Aiden looked at Draco again.
After receiving the answer, he asked one final time:
"Are you sure, Draco? Completely sure?"
"I'm sure, sir. Absolutely sure."
Without Harry provoking him, Draco showcased full Malfoy pureblood elegance.
Even Dumbledore couldn't find fault.
Unfortunately, whenever this boy encountered Harry…
It was like a spark meeting gunpowder—instant explosion.
"I'm sorry, Draco. Your answer is incorrect."