Stepping out of that second-hand shop filled with the scent of mildew and dead rats, Tamara was in no hurry to buy a wand.
Her primary task now was to get rid of this outfit.
As a man who once stood at the pinnacle of the wizarding world, she could not tolerate parading around in a poorly-fitted, tattered burlap sack like a House-elf.
Tamara walked straight toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
As she pushed open the door, a soft chime rang out. The shop was spacious and bright, with the scent of lavender and expensive fabrics floating in the air.
A squat, plump Witch in mauve robes came forward with a smile.
"Buying your Hogwarts school uniform, dear?" Madam Malkin asked warmly, showing no sign of disdain for the old dress Tamara was wearing.
"Yes, Madam."
Tamara nodded slightly, her movements impeccably elegant. She counted out ten Galleons from her now-bulging coin purse and placed them gently on the counter.
"In addition to the school uniform, I require the finest daily dress—silk, in dark green."
She paused, adding in a tone that brooked no argument, "Furthermore, please dispose of this... regrettable dress. I wish to change into the new one immediately."
"No problem, dear! Please head to the back. There's a young man being fitted there; you can stand on the footstool next to him."
Tamara stepped toward the back of the shop.
There, a pale boy with pale blond hair stood on a footstool, letting a tape measure flit all over him.
Draco Malfoy.
Looking at that familiar face, which bore a seventy-percent resemblance to his father, Lucius Malfoy, a wave of complex emotions rose within Tamara.
Back in the day, although Lucius had limited talent, he was at least considered loyal.
She wondered how the family had fared after her death.
Tamara calmly stepped onto the adjacent footstool as Madam Malkin slipped a robe over her head.
Draco Malfoy turned his head and spoke in a drawling, arrogant tone, "Are you going to Hogwarts too?"
"Mhm," Tamara replied, looking straight ahead, her voice steady and cold.
"My father's next door buying my books and cauldron, he'll be here in a moment." Draco did not shut up despite Tamara's coldness; instead, he began his signature boasting.
"Then I'm going to drag them to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own brooms."
"Still, I can get my father to buy me one and then find a way to smuggle it in."
He prattled on, hoping to gain the attention of the girl beside him.
"Have you ever played Quidditch?" Draco asked. "My father says I'm a natural-born seeker."
Tamara finally turned her head and glanced at him.
There was no envy in that gaze, no jealousy, not even much emotion at all—only a calmness as if she were looking at a noisy parrot.
"Quidditch?" she chuckled, speaking in a tone as smooth as silk.
"That is indeed... a pleasant pastime for those with excess energy and nowhere else to put it."
Draco blinked, having expected the girl to be impressed, or at least show some interest.
"What do you mean?" He frowned. "You don't like Quidditch? Then what do you like? Don't tell me it's those boring Gobstones."
"I am more inclined toward exploring the mysteries of magic itself."
Tamara tilted her chin slightly; as her shoulders were being measured, her posture was as upright as a pine. "No matter how high one flies, it is merely acrobatics on a broomstick, while mastering magic is the true proof of a Wizard's noble blood."
Draco opened his mouth, feeling as though he had been choked up.
He studied Tamara, noticing that although she had been poorly dressed moments ago, her every gesture now carried an aura more noble than any pure-blood family lady he had ever met.
"Which House do you think you'll be in?" Draco changed the subject, trying to regain some ground.
"As for me, I know I'll be in Slytherin. I don't even need the Sorting Hat to tell me; my whole family has been in Slytherin."
At this, a smug look appeared on his face. "What about you? I imagine it certainly won't be Hufflepuff."
"Slytherin."
Tamara said flatly.
The word coming from her mouth didn't sound like an aspiration, but rather a settled fact.
"Oh? You want to be in Slytherin too?" Draco perked up, as if he had found a kindred spirit. "Then you must be a pure-blood. What's your surname?"
This was a crucial question.
The Dark Lord had once felt shame for her own impure blood for a period of time.
But since she had killed her biological father, that mindset had improved.
[System Notification: Side Quest Triggered — Noble Upbringing.]
[Task Description: The brat before you is far too impolite. As a Slytherin senior, you have an obligation to teach him what true noble style is.]
[Quest Reward: Charm +2, Malfoy Family favorability unlocked.]
Very well.
The corners of Tamara's mouth curled slightly as she decided to teach this arrogant boy a lesson.
"You are too noisy, Mr. Malfoy," Tamara's crisp voice stated the simple fact.
"Only parvenus flaunt their wealth and emphasize the importance of bloodlines."
"Par... Parvenu?!" Draco's face flushed red. "My family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!"
Tamara's voice wasn't loud, yet every word drilled clearly into Draco's ears: "An illustrious family history is the glory of your ancestors, not your shield."
"The moment you keep 'my father' on your lips, you have already admitted your own weakness."
"A true Slytherin never deigns to bark from within the shadows of their parents."
The entire fitting room fell into a deathly silence.
The tape measure in Madam Malkin's hand stopped moving as she looked at these two eleven-year-old children in surprise.
Draco Malfoy was completely speechless.
No one had ever dared to speak to him in such a lecturing tone, as if he were a grandson being scolded.
Worse yet, in front of this girl, he actually felt an impulse to bow his head and admit he was wrong.
That high-and-mighty gaze that seemed to see through everything made him feel even more pressured than when he saw his father lose his temper at home.
Just then, Madam Malkin broke the silence.
"Alright, dear, your fitting is done." Madam Malkin clapped her hands twice, looking at her masterpiece with satisfaction.
"I'll go get your school uniform; wait for me a moment." With that, Madam Malkin left the fitting room, leaving only the two of them in silence.
Tamara stepped down from the footstool. She looked at herself in the mirror, wearing the dark green silk robe, and nodded with satisfaction.
This was how the Dark Lord should look.
She turned, looked at Draco who was still standing on his chair, and stepped forward to speak one word at a time.
"Look at me," Tamara commanded.
As if possessed, Draco did as he was told.
Tamara reached out a finger and pressed it gently against Draco's chin. It was a somewhat intimate gesture, yet it sent a chill down Draco's spine.
"Hide your desires, your pride, and your impatience deep inside."
"When you prattle on boasting about things you haven't even obtained yet, you are like an open book. Even a Troll could see through your hand."
As she spoke, Draco unconsciously held his breath, a hint of fear in his eyes.
That feeling... it was like facing his father—no, it inspired even more awe than facing his father.
The current Draco was finally no longer as stupidly headache-inducing as before.
Tamara nodded with satisfaction and withdrew her hand.
"Remember this feeling, Draco. Only when you learn to be silent will others hear what you truly have to say."
With that, Tamara turned and left.
Draco stood there dazed, his face as red as a tomato.
He touched the collar she had just straightened, his heart pounding as if he had been licked by a lion.
Outside.
Tamara carried her bags, listening to the system prompt in her mind, a playful smile gracing her lips.
[Ding! Quest Complete: Noble Upbringing.]
[Congratulations to the host for successfully guiding Draco Malfoy.]
[Reward Obtained: Charm +2. Effect gained: Your appearance is peerless among your peers.]
[Malfoy Family hidden favorability unlocked. Current favorability: 10/100.]
"Children are so easy to fool."
Tamara gave a light hum.