"Though I really don't want to say it, I didn't expect to be a schemer in these answers."
Seeing Snape's expression, Dumbledore was genuinely worried he would try testing the [Live Broadcast Q&A System] again.
The warning from earlier had already made the old man act more cautiously.
So he spoke first, drawing everyone's attention with self-mocking humor.
"Ahem… Mr. Dumbledore, the answers represented by these options aren't necessarily correct. You don't need to care that much," Aiden said casually.
"Ah. Thank you, that might make this old man feel a bit better."
Aiden nodded, then glanced at the seven people standing on the seven raised platforms.
"Are you ready? If you're ready, we'll begin the Quick Answer now."
The moment Aiden finished speaking, the seven buttons lit up bright red, signaling that the Quick Answer phase had begun.
A wizard's reflexes?
Terrifying.
Within a second, three dazzling green lights flashed.
Why green?
Because Aiden thought it looked cooler. No other deep reason.
"Alright then," Aiden announced. "The next to answer will be Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy."
Snape didn't even attempt to buzz in.
His heart was far too… tsundere.
Yes, the word sounded ridiculous.
But honestly, there was no better description for Severus Snape's emotional behavior.
"Hermione, you go first," Harry whispered.
Now, anyone with functioning eyes could predict the correct answer.
After all, the previous question had already revealed Professor Snape's connection with Harry's parents.
This one would clearly follow the same direction.
However—
Before Hermione could even open her mouth, Draco jumped forward.
"I'll go first!"
He shot Harry and Hermione a triumphant, almost theatrical smirk.
Immediately, the Gryffindors exploded.
"Look at him—Malfoy thinks he's a genius again."
"He's going to pick another wrong answer. His brain is 90% Harry-obsessed air."
"This is his talent—every answer is close, then swerves straight into stupidity."
Their taunts echoed across the space, only a few meters away from the Slytherins.
If the professors hadn't been present, someone would already be hexed into a ferret.
"We're not mindless trolls like you lot!" a Slytherin barked back.
"Oh yeah? Pretty sure the mindless part is on your side."
"Brainless brutes!"
"Rotten snakes!"
The volume climbed alarmingly fast.
Professor McGonagall—expression darker than the Forbidden Forest at midnight—touched her wand to her throat.
"ENOUGH."
Her magically amplified voice slammed through the room like thunder.
"If any of you make another sound, you will all return to your common rooms immediately."
Her stern aura silenced the chaos instantly.
Gryffindor and Slytherin students stared back at her like misbehaving toddlers caught stealing cookies.
McGonagall rubbed her forehead.
These two Houses were never going to get along.
Fire and water. Cats and dogs. Logic and Lockhart.
Hopeless.
Probably.
Her eye twitched as both Houses continued silently glaring daggers at each other.
Maybe I should just send them back.
Meanwhile, Draco puffed out his chest dramatically.
"I, Draco Malfoy, will not lose this time."
He stared Harry down like a villain rehearsing a monologue.
In Draco's mind, Harry Potter wasn't just a classmate—he was the rival written in destiny.
As long as Harry existed, Draco would remain a background character.
And Draco Malfoy refused to be background anything.
"The correct answer must be what I think it is. The truth is that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape have a secret conspiracy!" Draco declared proudly.
Harry stared at him.
Not angry.
Not impressed.
Just internally screaming: Why do I even interact with this idiot?
He wondered how many brain cells he'd lost just standing near Malfoy.
My IQ dropped just listening to him. Bloody hell.
Dumbledore watched Draco with a mild, amused smile.
"Mr. Malfoy," he said gently, "do you truly think I am such a manipulative old man?"
The entire sentence carried the subtle emotional weight of: How dare you doubt the greatest wizard alive?
Draco panicked instantly.
"N-No—Professor—I mean—well—I thought that answer was… possible…?"
"No one is forcing you," Aiden said lightly. "Are you confirming Option Three, Draco Malfoy?"
"…Let me think again, sir!"
"You have thirty seconds. Choose wisely."
"O-Okay, sir!"
Draco froze, visibly battling between logic and ego.
He knew deep down that Option Two was the correct answer.
He'd seen it.
But admitting Harry was right?
Disgusting.
Unacceptable.
A tragedy worse than being seen with second-hand robes.
Finally, with stubborn dignity, he lifted his chin.
"I choose Option Three."
He didn't choose it because he believed it.
He chose it because if he was going down—
he wanted to do it while looking Harry dead in the eye.
Harry watched him and sighed.
Yep. Complete idiot.
He quietly vowed that the next time he saw Draco, he would walk around him.
Far, far around him.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with interest.
He knew exactly what Draco was doing.
And it was… oddly entertaining.