After purchasing all the necessary school supplies, there were still a few days left before term began. Draco Malfoy's daily life remained largely unchanged. If there was any difference, it lay in the practice of spells.
Crabbe and Goyle were very competent as human punching bags. Previously, Draco, lacking a wand, had been limited to theory. He would occasionally practise with some old wands from home, but that was hardly a long-term solution. Now that he had his own wand, Draco naturally could not resist indulging himself.
As for targets, who else was there besides his two cronies?
"I wonder if I can get hold of Snape's Advanced Potion-Making now." Looking at the two little fatties lying on the floor, victims of the Sleeping Charm, Draco's interest waned. He found himself far more intrigued by spells such as Sectumsempra and Levicorpus. After all, as time passed, Draco had already mastered almost all the standard spells. What remained were self-created spells, the Unforgivable Curses, and other forbidden magic. For now, all he could do was become more proficient in what he had already learned.
"I'm really looking forward to it." Draco grew increasingly eager for his studies at Hogwarts. Perhaps he would not learn anything new in class, but school was not merely about lessons. Hogwarts, as one of the oldest wizarding schools, possessed a vast library. That was what Draco longed for most. There were many things in the world that money alone could not buy. Precious magical materials and out-of-print books of wizardry could no longer be measured by price.
What was the use of being rich and powerful? Without the corresponding status, it was difficult to wield real influence. Lucius understood this deeply. Since Voldemort's defeat, he had been keen to improve his reputation and expand his connections among the upper ranks of the wizarding world. It had been quite effective, yet he still lagged far behind Dumbledore, the highly respected leading figure of the age. In the original timeline, Lucius could only undermine him in secret, and in the end, he was effortlessly countered.
"Stop pretending. I know you're awake," Draco said suddenly.
The two little fatties reluctantly got up from the ground, looking miserable. No one enjoyed being struck by magic. Although Crabbe and Goyle were rather slow, they were not entirely insensible.
"You can go back," Draco said unexpectedly, not continuing his practice.
"I think you should go home and pack as well. The term begins in a few days. That's enough for today," Draco explained.
Crabbe and Goyle left as if granted amnesty. Crabbe nearly tripped in his haste.
"Am I really that frightening?" Draco found their behaviour faintly amusing.
Perhaps, in their eyes, he truly was.
In the past, Draco might have been the centre of attention because of his father's influence, but after years together, both his usual conduct and his talent for magic were enough to win their sincere obedience. Their intelligence might have been lacking, but the instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm—etched into human nature—was enough to guide them correctly.
Even if Draco had insisted on continuing just now, they would likely have endured it.
"The challenge is too low," Draco shook his head. "Real combat doesn't provide such convenient targets." Wizarding duels were ever-changing; this sort of practice offered limited benefit. Proficiency and genuine combat experience were clearly two different matters.
"Coo, coo." The sound of an owl came from behind him.
The Dracos kept eagle owls, the largest and strongest owls in Europe. Their wingspan was impressive, and their bright orange eyes gave them a regal air. It suited the Draco family's self-image perfectly.
"Let me see—The Quibbler."
Draco took the magazine from the owl and began to read. It had to be admitted that the articles were rather entertaining, provided one did not examine them too closely. It was one of Draco's rare methods of relaxation. After all, computers and mobile phones were still primitive in this era, and even if they developed further, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office would doubtless interfere.
After finishing the latest issue of The Quibbler, Draco yawned, feeling somewhat drowsy.
"Darling, come here a moment," Narcissa called from outside.
Draco replaced the magazine on the shelf and left his room.
"I think this is rather excessive." Entering the drawing room and seeing the mountain of luggage, Draco nearly stared in disbelief. These were all the things Narcissa had prepared for him. Besides the necessary books and clothing, there were many additional items.
"Mother, I don't think I need all this," Draco said, opening a trunk at random. It was filled with his favourite sweets.
"I'm not sure you'll care for the school food," Narcissa replied.
"Mother, as the heir to the Draco family, I believe I can overcome such hardship." Whether he liked the food or not, this was rather too much. Still, knowing Narcissa meant well, he did not wish to refuse too bluntly.
"Very well," Narcissa said, though her mood seemed to dip.
"Perhaps the owl could bring some from time to time," Draco added quickly.
"I knew you wouldn't let your mother's efforts go to waste," Narcissa brightened at once and kissed his forehead.
Such indulgence, Draco thought inwardly. Still, indulgence was better than neglect.
"By the way, why hasn't that little girlfriend of yours come to visit lately?" Narcissa asked suddenly.
"Er, I think…" Draco faltered.
"Did you bully her again?" Narcissa pressed.
Before he could answer, she continued, "When your father was courting me, he was…" She then recounted Lucius's pursuit of her, though how much of it was embellished was anyone's guess.
Draco suppressed a laugh. It was difficult to reconcile such romance with his father's usual demeanour.
"Ahem, I imagine she's busy preparing for school as well, Mother," Draco explained at last.
"Oh, you're the same age—I nearly forgot. You'll be in the same house, won't you?" Narcissa asked.
"I believe so," Draco replied.
"So do I. Apart from the Weasleys, there are hardly any pure-blood families who would choose otherwise," Narcissa said with a light laugh.
"Oh my, it's rather late," she added, glancing at the clock.
"Darling, you should get some rest. We'll finish packing tomorrow."
"Yes, Mother," Draco nodded, turning back towards his room.
---
Support: patreon.com/Narrator_San