At dusk on July 15, the sky darkened.
Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire was brightly lit. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy, both dressed in luxurious formal attire, stood stiffly at the entrance, greeting the guests with impeccable grace.
The heads of several pure-blood families, including the Greengrasses, Parkinsons, and Traverses, gathered around Lucius, exchanging quiet words with flawless smiles.
A group of children passed by the adults. There were nine of them in total. At their head was a young boy with neatly combed platinum-blond hair, a pointed, narrow chin, and silver-gray eyes.
He strode arrogantly across the lawn, with a little girl sporting a mushroom-cut hairstyle close behind him. "Draco, are you taking us to see your Flying Broomstick? We agreed at Christmas! Let us see the Flying Broomstick that was nearly smashed by a Muggle airplane, was it? It was called a Muggle airplane, right?"
"How many times have I told you, Pansy?" Draco shook his head impatiently. "I can't touch my Flying Broomstick today. My father won't allow it! All because that Heir of Slytherin is coming to our house! Father said that if I behaved too mischievously, I'd disgrace the Malfoy family. How awful. He's only a few years older than me, yet we all have to wait for him!"
"Yeah, my father said the same thing. He even said we had to leave a good impression on the Heir of Slytherin. It's really unfair... Why should we wait for a child?"
Imitating Draco's tone, Pansy nodded in agreement, completely forgetting that she was a child herself.
Draco let out a sigh of relief and gave himself a thumbs-up—fortunately, he had steered the topic toward the Heir of Slytherin. Otherwise, it would have been humiliating if Pansy found out he did not actually own a real Flying