Chapter 1274 The Most Unfamiliar Old Friend
As night fell, Pansy continued to "casually" ask everyone she thought might know the answer in the common room.
"Draco told us to stay away from him."
Crabbe and Gore's answers nearly drove Pansy to despair.
From the seventh-grade prefect to the freshmen, the responses she received were either blank shakes of the head or cautious avoidance.
Just as her patience was about to run out and she was considering whether to ask Draco directly, the stone wall at the entrance to the common room silently slid open.
Daphne entered, ignoring the various gazes directed at her as usual, and walked straight towards the girls' dormitory.
Pansy's eyes were complicated.
They used to be best friends, sharing everything, sharing their teenage secrets, and laughing together at the "Mudbloods," but now they are like strangers.
Daphne also saw Pansy; her eyes were calm, and her steps did not falter at all.
“Greengrass.” Pansy’s voice suddenly rang out, dry and hoarse.
Daphne stopped and looked at Pansy's face. "Parkinson's."
Her response was distant: "Did you need something from me?"
The air around them seemed to freeze, and several younger students shrank back, pretending to be focused on the Gwent game in front of them.
Pansy stepped forward, crossed her arms, and slightly raised her chin, trying to regain her usual condescending attitude. "I heard that your family hasn't been doing very well lately. The Quint flagship store in Germany has been shut down."
She deliberately drew out her words, "Wayne Enterprises will be finished soon, and your family still plans to continue cooperating with them?"
Daphne remained calm, seemingly oblivious to the sarcasm in Pansy's words. "Wayne Enterprises is a large multinational corporation. Losing the German market won't have a significant impact on us. Even if we lose the European market, we still have the Americas and Asia."
“Heh—” Pansy chuckled, “You’ve learned a lot of trendy words by being friends with that know-it-all girl.”
She looked into Daphne's calm eyes, "If this continues, it's only a matter of time before the Greengrass family is kicked out of the Twenty-Eight Holy Pureblood Families. And when that happens, your family—"
"Is this shameful?" Daphne interrupted her, her voice still calm. "Does the so-called 'face' of a pure-blood family really matter?"
Pansy was stunned. The pure-blood family's reputation had long been reduced to nothing more than a fig leaf because of Vincent.
The core components of the Nobilly brand have always been supplied by Wayne Enterprises. If they go out of business, the Nobilly brand will go out of business as well.
Daphne didn't continue speaking. Her eyes showed neither the smugness of a victor nor pity for a loser. She simply watched her quietly.
Pansy's momentum suddenly deflated. She looked at Daphne's calm face and remembered how they used to steal roses in the garden when they were little, share their first lipstick, and laugh at those clumsy boys... Those times seemed as distant as a past life.
Struggling, awkwardness, and even things she herself was unwilling to admit, the fear of the unknown ultimately overwhelmed her pride.
Pansy looked away and quickly glanced at the empty round table by the wall.
Her voice lowered, becoming somewhat indistinct: "Your family... always seems to have better access to information."
Daphne remained silent, waiting patiently.
Pansy bit her lower lip, met her eyes again, with a last shred of stubbornness and undisguised worry, "What exactly happened to the Malfoys? If you know... could you tell me?"
She asked the question, the one that had kept her tossing and turning countless nights, the one she had asked almost everyone but received no answer from—to her former closest friend, who was now the most estranged from her.
Daphne fell silent, looking at the faces in the common room who were pretending not to have heard anything.
She spoke softly, her voice so low that only the two of them could hear: "Vincent and Professor Dumbledore did not lie; everything they said is true."
Pansy's face gradually paled. She understood, not only the dangerous situation Malfoy Manor was in, but also the nature and source of that danger.
Daphne looked away. "Sometimes, keeping your distance and not asking questions is the best way to protect those in the eye of the storm, especially when you're in it yourself."
She said no more, turned and walked towards the passage leading to the girls' dormitory, her back straight and quiet, as if the dangerous conversation had never happened.
Pansy stood frozen in place, her fingers icy cold.
Daphne didn't give her a definite answer, but instead gave her a truth that was clearer and more terrifying than any answer could provide.
She finally understood why everyone was so secretive, and why Draco was unusually quiet.
The eerie flames in the fireplace illuminated the young faces in the Slytherin common room, some feigning composure, others barely concealing their unease.
Pansy slowly sat down on the nearest sofa and buried her face in her hands.
……
……
In the boys' dormitory, Draco put down his quill pen at his desk and picked up his newly written potion paper to check for typos.
His handwriting is beautiful and very neat.
After confirming that there were no problems, he rolled up the parchment and put it in the drawer of his desk.
Then he tightened the ink bottle cap, washed the quill pen, and put it back in the pen holder.
Everything was in perfect order, just like any other Slytherin honor student.
But Draco's gaze suddenly fixed on the bracelet on his wrist.
He turned on the projection screen and clicked on the text message sent by Narcissa.
"The hyacinths are blooming, but the wind is strong outside the greenhouse."
My dear, there is more to come after this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. There will be more exciting chapters later!
Also: No need to bother going home for Christmas; the greenhouse needs to be closed for maintenance.
Hyacinths have many meanings: victory, joy, life, and love.
"The wind outside the greenhouse" signifies a threat to the family or a deteriorating environment.
And "closed-door renovation"...
Draco trembled as he shut down the projection screen.
This is not a discussion, it's a ban, it's excluding him, the heir of the Malfoy family, from the house.
A cold, sharp anxiety, like tiny icicles, pierced his chest unexpectedly.
What exactly happened? At the manor… his parents? That “distinguished guest”? What did he and they do?
Or is something about to happen? A Death Eater gathering? A new, more dangerous mission?
Countless terrifying conjectures churned in his mind, each one suffocating him.
He wanted to go home immediately to confront his parents, or at least confirm their safety.
But his remaining rationality held him back. His mother's subtle yet stern warning meant that any form of direct contact could bring unpredictable dangers, and he couldn't take that risk.
Just then, a voice clearly cut into his chaotic thoughts:
“You are you, he is he, you are Draco Malfoy, and before you become anyone’s ‘son,’ ‘heir,’ or ‘servant,’ you are first and foremost Draco Malfoy.”
To be himself? Draco Malfoy?
He tried to force a sarcastic smile, but found his facial muscles stiff.
He can't make a choice, at least not now.
The only thing he could do was to do as his mother suggested: not go home and completely exclude himself from the family, his parents, and himself.
……
……
