"If I remember correctly, Mr. Malfoy, this should be the first time you and I have met alone in private since the Christmas holidays, shouldn't it?"
After Professor Snape left, Amosta brought Malfoy into his office. Glancing at Malfoy, who sat across from the desk as though walking on thin ice, Amosta lowered his head and took a small sip of the steaming bitter tea in his cup. Ever since returning to Hogwarts, he had been drinking tea noticeably more often than before.
Amosta did not like bitter drinks, but for some reason, whenever he wanted something to drink now, tea was the first choice that came to mind.
Humans truly were complicated creatures—this thought suddenly surfaced in Amosta's mind when he looked up at Malfoy again.
"You, you remember correctly, Professor Breen."
Malfoy stared down at his toes, shifting uneasily as though the cushion beneath him were full of thorns pricking his backside.
Amosta leaned gracefully against the back of his chair, his fingertips continuously rubbing the rim of his cup. Smiling at the sole heir of the British wizarding world's wealthiest pure-blood family—and the most renowned supporter of pure-blood ideology—his tone was frivolous enough to be called rude.
"So then, Malfoy, what was your purpose in coming to see me, to the point that you even asked Professor Snape to arrange it?"
Amosta had spent seven years in Slytherin and knew well how to deal with the descendants of these pure-blood families. Trying to earn their approval through politeness was utterly futile. Expecting their respect without showing them a little force was simply wishful thinking.
Under the powerful pressure radiating from Amosta, Malfoy's usual arrogance and disdain vanished without a trace. Like Neville before Professor Snape, he sat obediently, not daring to make any rash moves.
"It's actually