Chapter 105: Draco Malfoy's Embarrassing Daily Life
Time: 9:10 AM — just ten minutes before Herbology class begins.
The state of the white-petal flower that morning was quite peculiar. Unlike most plants, it gathered the water it absorbed the previous day into cloud-like mist above its head, which then rained down upon it — a self-watering cycle.
But none of this managed to pique Alexander Smith's interest. In fact, he had deliberately avoided studying certain less essential subjects. Not because he looked down on them, but so that he wouldn't get bored when he officially enrolled at Hogwarts later on.
Logically, someone unfamiliar with the behavior of the white-petal flower should have found it fascinating. But Alexander looked completely disinterested.
The reason? Draco Malfoy.
That morning, Malfoy had gone through class without a scratch, without even being hit by a stray jinx. After class, he didn't provoke Harry at all and actually behaved like a model student.
And so, the dull morning passed uneventfully.
---
After lunch, in the Ravenclaw common room, Alexander noticed Harry suddenly getting up to go out — even though there was still time before the next class.
"Ron, I'm going to check on Dudley," Harry said, sounding helpless. "I don't know how that article is affecting him."
"Are you serious?" Ron looked stunned. "You're actually worried about that guy?"
"He's my cousin, after all. Even I got gossiped about after the report — imagine Dudley, with his reputation among wizards. He's probably scared out of his wits."
"…But I'll admit," Harry added with a smirk, "I kind of want to see him suffer a little. It'll be therapeutic."
"How are we even supposed to get into the Hufflepuff common room? Where is it?" Ron asked, baffled.
"I did my homework ages ago," Harry said confidently. "It's supposed to be the coziest of all the common rooms."
He began to recite from memory, "The entrance is hidden in a nook to the right of the kitchen corridor. There's a row of large wooden barrels set in a stone recess. You don't use a password to enter—"
"Instead, you have to knock rhythmically on the second barrel in the middle of the second row. The rhythm has to match 'Helga Hufflepuff' — otherwise, the lid of another barrel pops open and sprays the intruder with vinegar."
Ron's eyes widened. "That's... surprisingly creative. I always thought Ravenclaw's riddle-door was the weirdest. At least Gryffindor and Slytherin just use passwords."
"That's not all," Harry continued. "They have a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff above their fireplace — not magical, though, so it doesn't talk."
Harry decided to pass the time with one of their favorite trivia games. "Ron, do you know why Hufflepuffs are usually great at Herbology?"
"Because they like to eat plants?" Ron guessed. "Or maybe it's because their Head of House, Professor Sprout, teaches Herbology?"
"Nope." Harry grinned. "By that logic, Slytherins should all be Potion masters and Gryffindors experts at Transfiguration."
He explained, "The windows of the Hufflepuff common room look out into the grasslands, full of swaying dandelions and herbs. Their windowsills and ceilings are decorated with magical plants—some can even sing and dance. Being surrounded by nature all the time makes them naturally better at it."
"Okay, okay," Ron conceded, "but I still think it's cool they've got Helga's portrait. We don't have anything like that in Ravenclaw."
"Are you kidding me?" Harry laughed. "There's a white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw right across from our common room door."
Ron blinked. "Oh yeah… What about Gryffindor and Slytherin? Do they have any founder statues or portraits?"
"As far as I know, no," Harry replied. "Maybe the male founders weren't into memorials."
---
But just as they reached the landing on the first floor, Harry froze.
He heard a voice he would never forget — Draco Malfoy.
And he was talking to… Dudley Dursley?!
"It's you, Dudley!"
"You filthy Muggle! How dare you insult Potter? Only I — the noble Malfoy — have the right to challenge him!" Draco stood on the steps, sneering down at Dudley like an aristocrat addressing a peasant.
Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle rolled up their sleeves, preparing for a physical confrontation. Dudley's massive build was intimidating — they weren't taking any chances.
"Just so you know," Dudley said, his broad face going pale, "our Head of House is my mum's friend. You'd better be careful."
"I—just—don't—believe it."
"Our Head of House wouldn't bother defending you, a filthy Muggle," Malfoy spat.
"And stay away from Potter."
"I know Harry's not your friend. Ron is," Dudley replied, surprising Harry, who was still hiding nearby. Wait… Dudley actually remembered that?
"You're the one who bad-mouthed Harry in that stupid moving newspaper."
"What's it to you, Dursley?" Malfoy snapped.
"Ron Weasley is a sniveling, shameless traitor. He poisoned Potter's mind against me, then got himself into Ravenclaw by kissing up to Dumbledore. With that brain? He's a textbook Gryffindor."
"I met Potter first. I should've been his friend!"
Then Draco lost control of his temper.
"Crabbe, Goyle — get him!"
But what happened next stunned everyone.
Had they used magic, Dudley might've flinched. But the moment things turned into a brawl, Dudley's eyes lit up.
The future Southeastern Junior Heavyweight Intercollegiate Boxing Champion made his move.
In seconds, Crabbe and Goyle were on the floor, groaning in pain.
"You two are useless!" Malfoy shouted.
Then, like a coward, he bolted. "Dudley Dursley! This isn't over!" he yelled as he disappeared down the stairs toward the Slytherin common room.
---
That's when Harry and Ron emerged — and came face-to-face with Draco mid-escape.
Draco's face flushed a deep red. Embarrassed beyond words, he pretended not to see them and dashed past.
"…So Malfoy did want to be friends with me back then?" Harry muttered.
"With that attitude?" Ron blinked. "Who gave him the confidence to think he was friendly?"
"Honestly," Harry said with a shake of his head.
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