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Chapter 12
Malfoy walked so quickly that Hermione had to jog to keep up.
"How do we get there?" Once she made up her mind, Hermione was even more enthusiastic than Malfoy.
"Just follow me."
Hermione trailed him through classrooms and empty hallways. Soon, they reached the middle of the fourth-floor corridor.
"You're the one," Malfoy said, striding straight to the statue of a witch—hunched back, one eye, looking thoroughly unfriendly.
"Split left and right." Malfoy tapped the stone witch lightly with his wand.
The statue's hump cracked open, revealing a space just wide enough for a thin person to slip through.
"How did you know there was a mechanism here?" Hermione asked, eyes wide.
"It's a secret," Malfoy said, clearly enjoying himself.
"Fine, don't tell me." Hermione huffed, but her earlier anger seemed to have vanished.
"Follow me and don't get lost. Not that you can get lost from here."
With that, the two of them climbed into the opening.
They slid for what felt like an eternity, as if down a stone chute, until at last their feet hit solid ground again.
"It's freezing in here." Malfoy shivered.
"Lumos," Hermione whispered. A warm orb of light bloomed from her wand.
"It's like a rabbit warren," she murmured after looking around.
"Stop sightseeing and watch your step," Malfoy warned.
The tunnel floor was uneven, riddled with dips and holes. Hermione nearly fell several times. Each time, Malfoy caught her arm before she could topple.
The trek dragged on, but with two people chatting, the darkness felt less lonely.
After about an hour, Hermione joked, "I'm starting to wonder if you're trying to murder a Muggle-born. I mean, look at this route—it's suspiciously secret."
"That's not even funny. My parents' beliefs already give me headaches." Malfoy shrugged.
"Oh—we're almost there." He felt the tunnel slope upward.
Ten minutes later, they reached a rickety stone staircase climbing into darkness.
They climbed.
Knock, knock.
Malfoy pushed open a trapdoor.
"Careful—we're in a cellar," he whispered.
He climbed out first, then offered Hermione his hand and helped her onto the floor.
The cellar was cluttered with chairs and crates, the floor caked with dust. The trapdoor blended in so perfectly that, without seeing it open, you'd never suspect it was there.
"So… how do we get out now?" Hermione whispered. "Won't we be treated like thieves?"
"Relax," Malfoy said, confidently heading for the stairs.
"You're insane," Hermione muttered, rubbing her temples. She was already imagining the points they'd lose—twenty, maybe fifty. I'm only the accomplice, she thought. Deduct more from him.
Just as her panic spiraled, a voice called out:
"Oh! Little Draco, what are you doing here?"
"No wonder he knows this place so well," Hermione thought.
"It's Halloween, Aunt Ambrosia. I came out to get some air," Malfoy said smoothly.
"Oh, little Malfoy!" boomed a middle-aged man. "Thanks to your idea last time, business is booming."
"But you should stay inside the shop," Ambrosia said. "You're only a first-year. If someone catches you, they'll dock points. And not everyone is as nice as we are."
"Of course. I snuck out this time—and I brought someone with me." Malfoy jerked his thumb behind him.
"Let me see… ah! Bringing your girlfriend to Hogsmeade on Halloween, how romantic. We won't disappoint you! We just got a new batch of sweets—want to try them?" Ambrosius grinned broadly. He had clearly noticed Hermione.
"I'm not his girlfriend," Hermione said firmly. Soft voice, but definite.
"I know, I know. Young people these days—labels are old-fashioned, we can't keep up," the owner said with a wink. Their breaking of school rules was obvious; pretending otherwise was pointless.
"Alright, enough talking. Show us around," Malfoy cut in, noticing Hermione's expression turning stormy.
"Then let me show you the new stock. Hard to transport, but the profit last time made it worth it," Ambrosia said.
Honeydukes wasn't large, but every inch was filled. The shelves practically overflowed with sweets.
Massive slabs of butter-peanut fudge, glittering pink coconut ice, rows of chocolate in every imaginable shape, barrels of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, tubs of Zizzlebee candy, floating fruit-juice pops…
Along the other wall were the "special effects" treats: Super Bubble Blowers (they filled the room with floating bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop), Fuzzytooth Mints, Little Black Pepper Urchins ("Breathe fire out of your nose!"), Ice Rats ("Hear your teeth squeak as you chew!"), bouncing Mint Toads, Sugar Quills, and Exploding Sandwiches.
Hermione's eyes bounced from shelf to shelf. Muggle sweets weren't even close to this chaotic.
"Looking won't fill your stomach," Ambrosius said, handing them Honeybee Candy. "Try these."
"B-but we haven't paid yet," Hermione protested.
"Little Draco already paid."
Hermione shot Malfoy a questioning look.
"Go on. I'll explain later," he said.
"…Alright." Hermione took the candy.
Never underestimate the power of sugar. Human DNA bows to it.
"How is it? Feel better?" Malfoy asked, licking the last of his Zizzlebee candy.
"Mmm." Hermione nodded, cheeks puffed with sweets.
"Want to take some back to school?" Malfoy asked.
"I can't eat that much." She pouted.
"Not for you. For your two friends."
"They're not my friends!" Hermione snapped.
"You're still upset? Let's bet: you go to the Halloween party like normal, and they'll definitely apologize."
"Really?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.
"See? You're hoping for it."
Hermione's face froze. "…You're tricking me again."
But she had believed him. "Gryffindor courage includes apologizing when you're wrong. Like you owe me."
"And if you show them sweets, they'll probably glitch like a Windows update."
Hermione giggled, imagining Harry and Ron's shocked faces.
"Fine, I'll trust you—for now." She quickly tried to compose herself, though her eyes were sparkling.
"Oh—it's getting late," Malfoy said, noticing the dimming light outside.
"What?" Hermione looked out, horrified.
"Relax. Everyone's busy celebrating. No one will notice we slipped out." Malfoy grabbed several sweets from the counter. "Do you want more of this flavor?" he asked, pointing at the Fuzzytooth Mints.
"Yes, I think my parents will—wait, no! We have to go! If we're caught, we'll lose points!" Hermione snapped back into prefect-mode.
"So you're no longer giving up on life now that your heart's unknotted?" Malfoy teased.
He handed her the sweets, and they said their goodbyes.
"Be careful on the way back! The tunnel's rough!" Ambrosia called.
"Of course," Malfoy said.
They descended into the cellar, then into the tunnel again.
"I didn't get to ask—why are you so familiar with the owners?" Hermione asked as she clutched his sleeve in the darkness.
"When I first came here, I gave them a few Muggle-world business tricks. What was it… ah. Hunger marketing. They made a killing, so they never charge me."
"How old were you when you 'consulted' for them?"
"Age doesn't measure wisdom," Malfoy said smugly, tapping his temple.
"…Why weren't you in Ravenclaw?" Hermione murmured.
"Are you thinking that if I were in Ravenclaw, we'd be closer?" Malfoy asked, deliberately teasing.
"What are you saying?!" Hermione's face flushed—not that he could see.
"Kidding."
But the joke hit her heart anyway. If only he were a Ravenclaw, she thought, then smacked her cheeks lightly.
Their last encounters had changed her view of him completely. She even began reflecting on her own mistakes from their first meeting. And she was now determined to make Harry and Ron apologize.
"What am I even thinking?" Hermione scolded herself.
"I think we're almost back," Malfoy said as the tunnel leveled out.
A faint light appeared ahead. They were close to the one-eyed witch's hump.
Malfoy climbed out first, checked the corridor, then helped Hermione up.
"The party's starting. Ron and Harry are probably looking for you to apologize. Go on."
"Thank you… for today," Hermione said quietly.
"It's nothing."
"That should deal with the troll situation," Malfoy whispered to himself as she walked away.
The next step would be the three of them reconciling—and Hermione seeing him in a better light.
"I've been gone too long. I should get back to the Slytherin common room before the feast."
He turned—only to meet a pair of ice-cold eyes.
"Oh great," Malfoy muttered. "This is going to be annoying."
A girl stood there, arms crossed, smiling like she knew every rule he had just broken.
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