He was no longer the baby his mother had once held dear, was he? Just as he wished, Mother had indeed become a little colder toward him.
She no longer called him baby Draco. She only called him Draco.
But why was his heart so disappointingly weak?
He cried in his bedroom for an entire night, grieving over his foolish past.
At ten years old, he received his Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts.
Father had actually wanted him to attend Durmstrang, since Father and Dumbledore did not get along.
But Mother did everything she could to stop him from going.
Actually, I did not really want to go either.
I heard they used nothing but Dark Arts there! But the Dark Arts...
Every time, I thought of the Cruciatus Curse.
Of Little White, who had died amid tears and blood.
Father did not force me too much.
He merely told me that if I insisted on going to Hogwarts, I should try to befriend Harry Potter.
Harry Potter! That guy from the books who defeated the Dark Lord?
I did not really want to befriend him.
As the eldest young master of the Malfoy family, why should I befriend a boy whose mother was supposedly a Mudblood?
Father told me, "You do not need to flatter him. Just manage to exchange a few words with him."
I compromised.
After all, I was the heir of the Malfoy family.
The heir!
Before school started, I received permission to go shopping in Diagon Alley.
At Madam Malkin's robe shop, I stood on a stool while that measuring tape took my measurements.
I complained that Madam Malkin was clumsy.
Actually, I still remembered that several years ago, Madam Malkin had praised me for being cute.
She said I definitely would not turn out like