As the saying goes, when the sky falls, someone taller will hold it up.
The Azkaban breakout had certainly caused an uproar in the wizarding world, but it didn't seem to affect the young witches and wizards at Hogwarts much at all.
With the Ministry of Magic deliberately keeping things under control, the incident felt distant and irrelevant to most students. Classes went on as usual. Quidditch tryouts for new players continued. The whispered insults aimed at the pink toad never stopped. Life carried on exactly as before.
After all, with Sirius Black as a precedent, the students' nerves had grown much stronger when faced with this kind of situation. Perhaps only when the identities of the escaped prisoners were revealed would people truly begin to take it seriously.
In any case—
Compared to wondering how someone had managed to escape the Dementors, Hogwarts students were far more concerned about how to deal with the problems Umbridge had brought.
And, of course, the next move the students were preparing to make...
...
Draco had originally planned to look for a breakthrough through Snape. But plans rarely unfold the way you expect. Ever since the Azkaban breakout, his godfather had suddenly become incredibly busy—so busy that Draco couldn't find him at all.
And it wasn't because of Potions lessons, nor because Umbridge had been making things difficult for him. Snape had been devoting nearly all his time to one-on-one instruction.
Yes. One-on-one.
And the student in question was none other than Mr. Harry Potter.
"Draco, what are you standing there daydreaming for? Hurry up. I really want to know what the student council came up with."
The only person who would speak to Draco in that tone was, naturally, the ever-proud Miss Granger.
Unlike the compliant Pansy—who had already experienced certain things—Hermione was currently caught in a state of uncertainty.
With no experience in romance, a tsundere streak, and a hint of insecurity, she could only edge closer to him in this roundabout way, trying to draw his attention through small acts of defiance.
It was a little adorable. And a little clumsy.
Which was precisely why Draco never got angry with her. If anything, over time, this had quietly become a private sort of amusement between the two of them.
"By the way, do you have any idea what's going to happen later?"
"Huh? You don't know, Draco? I thought you'd already heard."
"No. I've had some things to deal with lately."
He wasn't making excuses. He really had been busy.
Although Umbridge's interference had put their original training on hold and freed up some time, Draco still had to meet Lockhart in secret every night. On top of that, he was studying the hypnosis magic Umbridge had modified and overseeing the selection of new Quidditch players.
And as if that weren't enough, he was Slytherin's Prefect this year.
Compared to previous years, Draco was undeniably much busier.
"Yeah. Always busy with who knows what."
Before Hermione could even ask what he meant, Pansy—practically glued to his side—spoke up first, her tone full of grievance, as though Draco had terribly wronged her.
In reality, the only difference was that nothing like what had happened in the secret base had occurred again.
Pansy's aggrieved expression made Hermione's brows knit slightly as she sensed something off.
Come to think of it, I haven't had a proper chance to talk to him alone in quite a while either.
The thought flashed through her mind. She shook her head and pulled the conversation back on track.
"Anyway, Penelope seems to have come up with something."
"A plan?"
"You didn't forget what we talked about at the last meeting, did you? …Well, if it's you, I suppose it's not surprising you wouldn't take it to heart."
Walking at the front, Hermione shot Draco an annoyed look over her shoulder.
At fifteen, she was beginning to show a charm that was entirely her own, and more than a few young wizards along the corridor found themselves staring a second too long.
...
Hogsmeade Village.
Starting from third year, Hogwarts students were allowed to visit the village on designated weekends. Today happened to be one of those days.
Draco and the others were strolling down the streets of Hogsmeade, speaking in low voices as they walked...
"The joke shop's on this street… Yes, we didn't take a wrong turn. A few more corners and we'll see the Hog's Head. I think Penelope and the others should already be there."
It was obvious Hermione was looking forward to seeing her Ravenclaw senior. The way her steps grew lighter—and noticeably faster—said it all.
"We should still have a little time, right? Why don't we stop by Honeydukes? I heard they've got a new flavor of Butterbeer fudge. I kind of want to try it."
Meanwhile, Pansy's attention was fixed on the magical shopfronts around them. Compared to Hermione's near tour-guide narration, she was far more concerned with where they could relax and enjoy themselves afterward.
Draco, on the other hand, wasn't paying attention to either of them.
His gaze was on the people around them.
More specifically, on the local wizards who weren't Hogwarts students.
Anxiety. Confusion. Unease.
The presence of Hogwarts students had diluted the tension on the adults' faces, but Draco could still catch the faint strain beneath their expressions.
Hogsmeade was known as one of the safest places in the British wizarding world, a village practically made for wizards to live in. It had even earned a reputation as the place with the most wizarding smiles.
And yet, those smiles now seemed forced.
From the small, one could glimpse the larger picture.
Looks like things are worse than I thought…
Which means the information Lockhart gave me is probably accurate.
As Draco recalled the intelligence Lockhart had brought him the previous night, they arrived at the Hog's Head, situated at a corner of Hogsmeade's main street.
Inside, at a long wooden table, a beautiful witch lifted her hand and gave them a small wave.
It was Penelope Clearwater, whom they hadn't seen in quite some time.