Boom!
Even out on the main road, Pansy heard the commotion coming from inside the Hog's Head.
Before she could figure out what had happened, someone was already being carried out of the pub. Right behind him came Penelope and the other Prefects.
Penelope's expression looked… complicated.
But what puzzled Pansy most was that she didn't see Draco or Granger anywhere.
"They didn't come out. Are they still inside?"
"More importantly… why are you the only one out here?"
The one who spoke was Astoria, who had just reached third year and was finally allowed to visit Hogsmeade.
She looked as though she had just come from Honeydukes and happened to run into Pansy on the way. A chocolate bar was still in her hand, which she was nibbling on in small, careful bites.
The image was almost comical.
Like a little hamster.
After practically spending the entire holiday at the secret base together, Pansy had long since realized just how obsessed Astoria was with sweets. It was borderline alarming.
Pansy cast her a sideways glance. "There are… various reasons. No, forget that. Shouldn't we be more concerned about why Draco hasn't come out? And… it looks like something happened in there that we don't know about."
At that, both of them looked toward the unconscious Head Boy.
The way he had been taken down looked… familiar.
They exchanged a silent look of understanding and immediately abandoned the idea of going over to ask questions.
Because if they weren't mistaken, his current state had a very high chance of being Draco's handiwork.
…
The wooden stairs creaked beneath their feet as they climbed to the second floor of the Hog's Head.
Unlike the open hall below, the upper floor consisted of separate private rooms divided by thick walls.
It was said that every wall had been enchanted with powerful spells to block sound and prevent prying eyes, ensuring complete privacy.
In other words, it was the perfect place for confidential conversations.
Of course, the price in Galleons reflected that.
Hermione, who had no idea what Draco was planning, finally asked once they reached the second floor:
"So? What exactly are you looking for?"
"A small… clue."
"What?"
Draco didn't explain. He walked past one private room after another.
He didn't knock. He didn't stop to listen.
He simply cast quick, sharp glances at each door, as if searching for something specific.
It wasn't until they stopped in front of one particular door that Hermione began to understand.
Draco reached out.
From the crack in the door, he pulled out a playing card that had been wedged there.
On it was a small figure wearing a jester's hat, laughing silently while striking an exaggerated pose.
In Muggle terms—
"That's a Joker?"
"By your Muggle classification, yes."
"But why would it be stuck in the door?"
"Seeing this doesn't remind you of anything?"
As he spoke, the Joker card spun effortlessly between his fingers.
For a moment, Hermione almost felt as if the card had come alive.
Then her thoughts flashed back to the tall, precarious towers of playing cards from earlier.
"You mean… the person at that table."
With Draco's hint, the pieces finally fell into place.
So that was who he had been looking for.
"Then who is that wizard?"
"We'll see for ourselves."
Draco tucked the Joker card away, brushed the dust from his robes, and pushed open the door.
It hadn't even been locked.
...
The moment Draco pushed the door open, the first thing they saw was a figure standing with his back to them.
The outfit was the same one they had glimpsed downstairs. Only now, under better light, they could clearly see its cut and color.
Hermione hesitated at the threshold.
Before she could decide whether to step in, the wizard—without even turning around—spoke, as if he had already confirmed who it was.
"Shouldn't you close the door first, our outstanding Miss Granger?"
"…Lockhart?!"
"I believe you ought to address me as Professor Lockhart."
He turned around, tapping his wand lightly against his robe. The dark fabric instantly shifted, as though drenched in invisible dye, transforming into a vivid shade of purple.
That voice.
That exaggerated flair.
That absurdly flamboyant sense of style.
Hermione recognized him at once.
Gilderoy Lockhart—former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, now serving as Draco's information source.
This time, however, Hermione's reaction wasn't nearly as dramatic as before. At most, she felt cautious.
After all, in a certain sense, Lockhart was now on their side.
Although the way he looked at Draco still carried an oddly heated quality that made her uncomfortable.
"Did something important happen?" Draco asked calmly, ignoring Lockhart's peculiar gaze as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
Hermione remained standing, wary.
Instead of answering, Lockhart tilted his head slightly.
"It seems our Miss Granger is worried about something."
Hermione froze.
She hadn't expected him to see through her so easily.
More than anything else, she was anxious about Draco being dragged off by the Ministry of Magic. That tension must have been obvious.
"It's nothing," Draco said casually. "Just used a small spell."
"That was not a small spell. He flew across the room!"
"…"
Their brief exchange was enough for Lockhart to piece together what had happened.
He adjusted the brim of his tall hat, smiling faintly.
"If you're concerned about whether the Ministry will take action… that won't be an issue."
"Eh?"
"It seems your Draco hasn't told you about the current relationship between the Ministry and the Malfoy family."
Hermione slowly turned to look at Draco, one eyebrow arching.
What had this insufferable boy kept from her now?
No wonder he had looked so unconcerned about the consequences.