I was stunned for two seconds. It was obvious that I had relaxed my vigilance because the previous infiltration had been too smooth. I had no idea when he had come in, nor did I understand why he knew I was here — he clearly had gone to watch the Quidditch match, so why did he come back? However, this matter didn't seem that important at the moment. My gaze drifted to the pocket of his robe. I had to find a way to get my wand back.

"This isn't a good idea." The mockery on his face became more pronounced when he noticed my gaze. "You don't still think you can snatch something from me just by brute force, do you? Although I don't mind if you give it a try."

"I'm not stupid," I muttered. I lowered my head to look at the big box, then raised my head to look at Draco. I simply stuck out my neck and said directly, "I'm here looking for my notes."

"Of course. Other things aren't worth you going to so much trouble for." He was still sitting there leisurely. "But it's obvious that you were caught by me before you found out where it is. Do you need me to remind you how many school rules you've violated by breaking into the common room of another house and entering someone else's dormitory without permission?"

"I haven't counted, but I guess it's enough to get me detention until the end of the semester." I shrugged. "So, are you going to send me to Umbridge, Mr. Prefect?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Prefect?"

I coughed. It would be really stupid to provoke him without my wand. I had to find a way to divert his attention and then seize the opportunity to get my wand back. I probably wouldn't have a second chance to break in here after I left today. So not only did I need to retrieve my wand and escape, but I also had to take my notebook with me. When I moved that big box just now, I took a glance into the drawer. There seemed to be an album and some scattered small boxes underneath, and it didn't look like there was any room left for a notebook. That is to say, I had looked in the wrong place.

After figuring out what I needed to do, I actually calmed down, even though each of my goals seemed more and more hopeless. I pretended to be interested and placed that big box on my lap, then asked, "How did you know I was here?"

"I can find you whenever I want. It's not difficult, is it?" He yawned and leaned comfortably against the bedpost, saying, "When we were kids, even when you hid in the hidden compartment under the spiral staircase in my house, I still found you. An Invisibility Cloak isn't really a reliable thing. Besides, what good stuff could Potter possibly have?"

"I still don't understand." I spoke slowly while trying to stand up. My wand had already tilted out of his pocket by a small half.

"You have a certain... smell." He sat up straight. I looked at my wand in frustration as it disappeared back into his pocket again. But his words made me look down at my hair and clothes in confusion and take a sniff. As a witch who dreams of researching potions in the future, I've always had excellent olfactory abilities. I'm sure there's no special smell on me. Could it be that the perfume smell of the girls in the dormitory has been too strong these days?

There came the sound of loud laughter and chatter from outside. I felt my back stiffen instantly. The sound was getting closer, and it seemed that a lot of people were coming up the stairs. Just as I grabbed the Invisibility Cloak beside me and planned to wrap myself up as quickly as possible, I was picked up directly by Draco along with the Invisibility Cloak and tossed into his drapery. The next second, the door of the dormitory was opened, and the whole dormitory was immediately filled with the low or rough laughter of the boys.

No light from outside could penetrate Draco's drapery. I was stunned for a moment and took a while to get used to the sudden darkness. Then I squeezed the two wands in my hand. One was excitedly sending a warm current to my fingertips because it had returned to my hand, and the other one emitted a few tiny sparks from the tip to express its protest when I exerted a little force. I had been keeping an eye on his pocket all the time before, so the moment he picked me up, I almost instinctively emptied it.

"Twenty-two minutes?" I heard Draco's loud laughter outside the drapery. "It seems I didn't miss anything good!"

"You missed a whole lot of good things," a male voice I didn't recognize replied cheerfully. "We could hardly keep up with all the singing. Weasley let in thirteen goals—"

"—Fourteen. Their beater directly smacked Johnson in the face with a bat, as if he was worried her mouth wasn't crooked enough. And the other one fell right off his broom—"

"The Gryffindors looked like there were dungbombs under all their seats—"

"So what was the final score?" Draco's voice was full of excitement. "We don't have to worry about Gryffindor anymore, right?"

There was a brief silence. The male voice just now said, "They didn't fall behind by much. That girl from the Weasley family caught the Golden Snitch."

"What? That Ginny Weasley?!"

"Who knows how she caught it. The Snitch was right under the nose of the Hufflepuff Seeker— Hufflepuffs are all a bunch of idiots."

"Just lucky, I guess." Another voice said, "She won't be that lucky twice in a row."

"Ohohoho," after a strange laugh, someone said, "I forgot. Blaise said that the Weasley girl is quite pretty. You're a well-known picky person, after all."

"I also said she smells like a trash bin just like her brothers," the previous voice replied coldly. "I have no interest in touching dirty things, no matter how good-looking she is."

"What was the final score exactly?" Draco's voice was clearly impatient. I carefully lifted my head from the soft mattress, wondering if my notebook could be in his quilt or under his pillow. But I was also afraid of making a sound. Even though those boys had been talking loudly and might not notice the small noises here, some of them were actually quite close to me. It was as if they were standing around Draco's bed while talking.

"Two hundred and forty to two hundred and thirty," the boy who spoke first answered. "This box looks kind of familiar. What's in it?"

"Does it have anything to do with you?" Draco didn't seem to want to answer this question.

Blaise Zabini, who had spoken earlier, chimed in, "Aren't these the shoes you wanted to give to that person at the Christmas ball before? You even asked Theodore and me if they were suitable."

"Which person?" a silly voice asked.

"Who else could it be?" a teasing voice replied. "It's definitely not Pansy, anyway."

"But Draco said he doesn't like Iris Snape anymore," the silly voice continued. "He said there are plenty of better women who are more worthy of him, right, Draco?"

"You guys are talking about Ginny Weasley. Why bring her up?" Draco asked angrily. I heard a loud bang as a drawer was slammed shut.

"Who else is there to talk about when there are only a few decent-looking girls in the whole school?" the boy who had laughed strangely before said. "Who would have thought that without Potter, there would still be Ginny Weasley in Gryffindor... Do you think we can come up with some way to make sure she can never play Quidditch again?"

I heard the malicious laughter of several people. One person, sounding as if he had a ball in his mouth, mumbled, "I don't mind if she smells like a trash bin. I can just plug my nose."

The group of people burst into laughter at once. I silently clenched my fists, really wanting to peek through the gaps in the drapery to see who these people were and remember their faces so that I could teach them a lesson.

"You seem strange today," Zabini's voice came through those disgusting laughs. "You're usually quite enthusiastic when talking about these things, Draco. What's wrong with you today?"

"I'm not feeling well," Draco replied. "Otherwise, I would have gone to watch the Quidditch game with you guys—hmm?"

"What can't you find?" someone asked him.

"Nothing," he replied irritably. "Just leave me alone."

When he lifted the drapery and climbed onto the bed, I had just finished groping the surrounding mattress and moved to the side of the pillow. I was lying prone and about to reach out to feel under the pillow. So when he held out his hand to me, motioning for me to give him back his wand, I felt a bit awkward when our eyes met. But I firmly shook my head at him and mouthed to him, "Trade your notebook for it."

Afraid that he would try to snatch it by force, I resolutely held his wand with both hands and made a gesture as if I would break it immediately if he dared to make any sudden moves, hoping that even though the light inside the drapery was not good, he could still clearly see my determination to take drastic measures. To my surprise, he shrugged, retracted his hand, and started taking off his outer robe. Right in front of my dumbfounded expression, he lay down directly beside me, pulled the quilt over himself, and triumphantly whispered in my ear, "Anyway, it's not me who's trapped here."

After saying that, he closed his eyes, looking as if he was going to catch up on some sleep.

"Draco, aren't you going to the library?" The sounds of chatting and laughing outside gradually faded. I heard the sound of people packing things up. "I remember you said yesterday that you haven't even started your Potions homework yet."

"I still have a whole day tomorrow," Draco replied with his eyes closed. "I told you, Theodore. I didn't sleep well last night."

"Then I'll save you a seat, at our usual spot." This voice must belong to Theodore Nott. He was one of the few students that my father actually approved of.

"Okay, thanks." As far as I could remember, Draco rarely spoke to people so politely.

When I tried to reach out and feel under his pillow again, Draco grabbed my wrist. He opened his eyes and stared into mine for two seconds. After making sure that everyone around was probably busy with their own things, he whispered, "Be quiet. I'll take you out later."

"Stay with me for a while, and I'll let you take the notebook with you when you leave," he said as he closed his eyes again, looking like he really wanted to fall asleep.

"You said you'd return it on the Hogwarts Express," I didn't believe him and spoke as quietly as possible. "It's been over a semester, and you still haven't given it back to me."

He turned his face towards me. I realized that we hadn't been this close for a long time, and we shouldn't be this close either. Just as I was about to pull back to a safer distance, he said slowly, "You also said that you would spend Christmas at my house with me."

"When did I say that?" I widened my eyes. "I never said that."

"Forgot," he habitually reached out his hand to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger. I slapped his hand away and gathered all my hair behind me. He smiled. "Maybe it was in my dream."

"Were you talking, Draco?" Goyle's suddenly approaching voice startled me.

"I was reciting the names of the leading goblins in the rebellion in History of Magic," Draco replied unhappily. "Just leave me alone for a while."

I didn't dare to make a sound anymore. Listening to the occasional footsteps outside, I didn't know how long I had been trapped here. The Quidditch match was already over, and Harry and the others should have returned to the Gryffindor common room. I hoped that they wouldn't have the time to notice that I was missing for the moment, or that they would think I had gone to the library.

Draco seemed to have really fallen asleep. Half of his face was buried in the mattress, and only his index finger and middle finger of the hand that had been holding me were still loosely resting on my wrist. With a gentle tug, I could break free. He just groped in the air a bit and didn't make any other movements. I felt completely at a loss. In my plans, the worst-case scenario was that I would cast the Memory Charm on everyone here and then flee in a mess, leaving chaos behind. I had never even considered this possibility—being trapped so peacefully in Draco's drapery, with Slytherin boys walking back and forth around me, and the space beside him actually being the only relatively safe place.

It was only when the last person left, mumbling about being hungry and dragging his feet, that Draco opened his eyes. By then, I had been so bored that I had started counting with his wand how many silver little stars were embroidered on the drapery. I was getting quite used to using his wand. Although it had seemed to resist me at first, it no longer spat out sparks.

"Where's my notebook?" I turned my face to the other side as he sat up to put on his robe. "Where exactly is it?"

"Didn't you already guess?" He casually ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair and adjusted the shiny prefect badge on his chest.

While gripping his wand tightly to show that I was always on guard against his tricks, I lifted the pillow where he had just been sleeping. The notebook that I had been worried about since the summer vacation was lying there neatly. I quickly grabbed it and flipped through it. There was nothing unusual about it except for the marks of frequent flipping and folded pages.

On the way out of the Slytherin common room, we didn't run into anyone. The footsteps of the two of us echoed in the damp and cold corridor, but the torches only cast Draco's shadow on the stone wall where water droplets were constantly rolling down. I held the notebook that I had finally retrieved tightly in my arms and still clutched his wand in my hand.

"I owe you a favor," I said after we finally reached the ground floor of Hogwarts. I took off the Invisibility Cloak in an empty corridor and handed his wand back to him. "I'll remember it. Although if you had returned the notebook to me as promised, none of this would have happened."

"A favor?" He sneered. "Do we really have to be that calculating? Then should we also calculate all the other things you owe me from before?"

"From before?" I frowned. "I don't remember owing you anything else."

"You still owe me half a dance," he reminded me slowly as he put his wand back into his pocket.

I was taken aback for a moment. I didn't expect him to bring this up.

"Someday I'll make you pay it back," he said as he turned and walked down the marble steps. "Although I'm not in a hurry now, it doesn't mean I've forgotten, Liz."

I had no appetite for lunch. I took a shortcut all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower. On the way, I met Peeves, who was happily hanging a completely withered mistletoe, which I didn't know where he had gotten it from, on the huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He was also humming a Christmas carol that he had completely butchered. The stairs creaked as usual and connected to different corridor platforms at regular intervals. I stood there and waited for a while. It was not until Peeves had decorated the chandelier, which the house-elves had been diligently cleaning all day, to look like a rusty piece of furniture in a long-deserted old mansion, with large bunches of withered yellow mistletoe stuffed into every hollow pattern and the berries hanging down completely shriveled and lifeless, that the stairs finally turned towards the corridor I needed.

Perhaps the other Gryffindors didn't have much of an appetite for food either. When I climbed through the portrait hole, many people were still sitting on the armchairs, looking as if they were reluctant to wake up from a nightmare. Ron was curled up in the corner like a withered Mimbulus mimbletonia, listlessly clutching a bottle of butterbeer that was almost empty. The atmosphere in the common room was like a particularly miserable funeral—except that everyone would show a little smile when they saw Ginny. She was the hero who had planted the hope of a comeback for Gryffindor.

"But I still want to be a Chaser," she said, tossing her flaming red hair at us. "I'll fight for it when Harry gets back to the team. Angelina and Alicia will graduate next year. I think I work quite well with Taurus."

"You have to be careful of those Slytherins these days," I said, feeling uncomfortable in my stomach again when I thought of the conversation I had heard before. I quickly reminded Ginny, "They're—they might be thinking of ways to keep you from playing."

"Then let them try," Ginny said disdainfully. "I just improved the Bat-Bogey Hex and I don't know who to practice it on."

Harry was sitting with Ron in the corner. Ginny said that Angelina still refused to let him leave the team (even though everyone now thought it was a cruel torture to let Ron continue playing). Angelina insisted that Ron had the potential and that he just hadn't shown it yet.

When I walked over, Ron seemed afraid that I would also say some words of encouragement to him. He mumbled that he wanted to go back and lie down for a while and then left. After I sat down, I noticed that the Marauder's Map was spread out on Harry's lap. He looked up at me calmly.

"If you had stayed there a little longer, I would have considered doing something," his tone sounded almost exactly the same as when Mr. Potter and my father were discussing the weather in London. "But it seems my worry was unnecessary."

I felt the blood rush straight to my face. After a long silence, I feebly explained, "I just went to get my notebook. I wanted to help Neville. He—"

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth?" He stuffed the Marauder's Map into his pocket and asked me bluntly, "Am I still not trustworthy to you, Iris?"

"No, that's not it." I instinctively wished that Hermione was with us at that moment, but she wasn't in the common room. When I looked up again, Harry had already stood up and left. He didn't even take his Invisibility Cloak back from me.