At Malfoy Manor, Lucius summoned the House-elf Dobby.
His brows were tightly furrowed, his gaze cold and sharp as it settled on the figure huddled below the steps.
Dobby wore tattered sackcloth, his head bowed low and his whole body trembling uncontrollably.
"You stupid elf!" Lucius's voice was as cold and hard as ice, filled with undisguised anger. "Your master returns home, and you don't even know to come and welcome him! All you do is hide in corners and dawdle all day. What use are you?"
Before he had finished speaking, Dobby bent sharply forward and slammed his forehead against the cold marble floor. Dull thuds rang out, the blows so forceful that he seemed ready to split his forehead open.
Painful sobs, mingled with self-reproach, spilled haltingly from Dobby's throat. "Dobby is a bad elf! Dobby is a stupid elf! Master came home, but Dobby was polishing silver in the attic instead of waiting at the door to welcome him. Dobby failed in his duties! Dobby deserves to die! Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
He struck his forehead against the floor again and again. It soon reddened, and the dull thuds echoed through the empty entrance hall, making anyone who heard them tense.
Seeing this, Draco knew that his father had always been harsh with House-elves.
If this continued, Dobby would probably be badly hurt, so he hurried forward to intervene.
Draco spoke with feigned severity, though his words carried a conciliatory undertone. "Enough. We know your sins are grave. The most urgent thing now is to take everything on the floor to my room and put it away properly. Stop making a nuisance of yourself here."
Dobby looked as though he had been granted a pardon. He hastily stopped banging his head and raised his tear-streaked face, a flicker of gratitude passing through his eyes.
He hurriedly replied, "Yes! Stupid Dobby will go at once! Dobby will put young master's things away properly and won't dare make another mistake!"
With that, he scrambled nimbly to his feet and hurried forward, picking up the bags and belongings Draco's father and mother had set on the floor, one by one, ready to take them to Draco's room.
Lucius had intended to deliver a few more reprimands and teach the negligent elf a proper lesson, but Narcissa quickly reached out to stop him.
"Enough. Don't lose your temper now, and don't let the child's things get damaged. He needs them for school, so it's best to be careful."
Lucius's brows drew even tighter, but he ultimately let the matter drop, merely shooting Dobby a cold glare.
The chill in that look made Dobby shudder again. He hurried toward the stairs, afraid that even a second's delay would bring another punishment.
Having escaped disaster, Dobby soon disappeared around the turn in the staircase.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief, turned to his parents, and said with a smile, "Father, Mother, I'm a little tired from all the traveling. I'll go to my room and sort out my school things first, then come down to spend time with you later."
Lucius and Narcissa both nodded without saying anything more.
Draco turned toward the stairs, his steps light, though he was silently thinking things over.
His father had probably taken note of his befriending Hermione in Diagon Alley today. Questions would inevitably follow, so he needed to consider his answers carefully.
Once Draco had disappeared, only Lucius and Narcissa remained in the entrance hall.
Lucius's expression immediately darkened. After a brief silence, he suddenly spoke. "Narcissa, do you know whom I saw in Diagon Alley today?"
A trace of puzzlement crossed Narcissa's eyes. "Who was it?" she asked gently. "Who could make you look so grave?"
Lucius grew even more solemn, his voice turning colder as he slowly said, "Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts. There was a Muggle-born girl with her. Judging by her appearance, she should be starting school this year. Presumably, McGonagall was accompanying her to buy her school supplies."
"She was merely accompanying a new student shopping. That's quite ordinary." Narcissa smiled dismissively, taking little notice. "Professor McGonagall has always been responsible. It's perfectly normal for her to look after new students like that."
"Ordinary?" Lucius snorted, his tone full of displeasure. "If that were all, then of course it would be ordinary. But I also saw Draco."
"He was actually chatting amicably with that Muggle girl, looking quite friendly. If I hadn't called him back in time, he might have followed her and Professor McGonagall out of Diagon Alley to who knows where."
Narcissa was startled, her eyes filling with disbelief. She hurriedly asked, "Really? Draco would actually associate with a Muggle-born wizard? That hardly sounds like the child we raised."
"It's absolutely true. I saw it with my own eyes. Not a word of it is false." Lucius's face grew darker still.
The chill radiating from him almost seemed capable of freezing the air around him. "It seems there have been gaps in his upbringing all these years. He's actually begun entertaining the idea of keeping company with Muggles, forgetting the Malfoy family's rules and pride."
Narcissa quickly stepped forward and gently took Lucius's arm, her voice soothing as she urged, "Perhaps this isn't as serious as we think. They may simply have met by chance and exchanged a few words. We can ask Draco properly at dinner. Don't wear that cold expression then. Speak to him calmly, or you'll frighten the child and we won't get a clear account of what happened."
Lucius drew a deep breath, his tone impatient. "I can't promise to remain calm. How can the Malfoy family's heir be so close to a Muggle-born wizard? If word gets out, won't our peers in the Wizarding World laugh at us?"
Narcissa knew her husband's temper and how much this matter meant to him. She could only sigh helplessly, silently hoping they could talk things through at dinner and establish exactly what had happened.
Meanwhile, Draco had returned to his room.
The room was luxuriously furnished, with a tall wardrobe beside the carved bed and books of all kinds neatly arranged on the desk. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow across the floor.
Dobby placed the things he was carrying on the floor, one by one. He was about to bow and withdraw quietly when Draco suddenly stopped him. "Dobby, wait."
Dobby froze, then quickly turned around and respectfully lowered his head. "Young master, what are your orders?" he asked humbly. "Dobby will do everything he can to carry them out."
"I brought you a little gift from Diagon Alley today," Draco said with a smile.
In truth, it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Seeing that Dobby had been fairly loyal to him, had made no mistakes, and had repeatedly suffered punishment, he had wanted to give him a small token of appreciation.
Dobby shuddered violently at those words and snapped his head up, his eyes filled with incredulous shock. Even his voice trembled. "Young master... can Dobby... have a gift too?"
With the old Draco, he would never have hoped for such a thing, or even dared entertain the thought.
But since their last conversation, young master had treated him much more gently, leaving him unable to help feeling a little hopeful.
"Of course." Draco nodded readily, his tone sincere. "You work diligently to manage the manor every day and fulfill your duties. It's only right to give you a gift. There's no need to be so surprised."
Dobby shook his head vigorously, speaking with conviction. "No, young master. No wizard master gives gifts to House-elves. It's against the rules. Elves are supposed to serve their masters without expecting anything in return."
"People made those rules. Since no one has done it before, I'll simply be the first," Draco said with a smile.
As he spoke, Draco took a pair of gloves from the package of wizarding robes they had just brought back and held them out to Dobby. "I wanted to have these made to your size, but I didn't know how big your hands were, so I had an extra pair made just like mine. If you don't mind, take them."
Dobby stared fixedly at the gloves, his eyes full of eagerness and appreciation. He hurriedly shook his head and said urgently, "Dobby doesn't mind! Dobby doesn't mind at all! Young master's things are a hundred times more precious to Dobby than anything made to measure! Are these really for Dobby?"
His voice shook with uncontrollable excitement, and his hands trembled slightly. He did not even dare reach for them.
"Of course they're for you," Draco said with feigned nonchalance. "If you don't want them, I'll throw them away later. I don't particularly like this color, and there's no use keeping them."
"Don't throw them away! Dobby wants them! Dobby wants them very much!" Dobby hastily protested, afraid that Draco really would discard the gloves.
Then he hurried forward, carefully reached out, and accepted the gloves.
[Ding! Original plot added. Fortune Points increased by 20!]
As Dobby looked at the gloves, his eyes were filled with appreciation and gratitude.
He was no less moved than if he had received clothing that could grant him his freedom.
"Thank you, young master! Thank you for your gift!" Dobby clutched the gloves tightly. "Dobby will follow young master with unwavering loyalty from now on! Dobby will go through fire and water for young master without hesitation, and will gladly give his life!"
"Enough, there's no need to be so dramatic." Draco waved a hand helplessly. "Stop talking about life and death all the time. You make it sound as though I've offended countless enemies. Just do your duties properly, and I won't treat you poorly in the future."
"Yes, Dobby will remember young master's teachings!" Dobby bowed respectfully and carefully tucked the gloves against his chest, afraid of damaging them. "If young master has no other orders, Dobby will go and attend to his duties, and won't disturb young master while he sorts his things."
Draco nodded his permission. Only after bowing once more did Dobby slowly withdraw, closing the door with the utmost gentleness.
Watching him leave, Draco shook his head lightly.
As the night deepened, candles lit up throughout the manor one after another. Their warm glow shone through the carved window frames, lending every corner an air of quiet luxury.
At dinnertime, Draco came to the dining room and took his seat. His gaze passed over his parents at the table as he quietly waited for his father to announce the start of dinner.
Yet however long he waited, Lucius did not speak. The atmosphere in the dining room gradually grew oppressive, the flickering candlelight making his father's expression look darker still.
Unable to hold back any longer, Draco looked at Lucius and said, "Old man, what's wrong today? It's only dinner. Why haven't you said anything yet? Is something on your mind?"
Lucius raised his head, fixing Draco with a piercing gaze.
After a brief silence, Lucius went straight to the point. "Draco, why did you behave that way toward that Muggle-born girl in Diagon Alley today? So warm and friendly, completely forgetting the Malfoy family's rules!"
Draco's heart gave a sudden lurch. This is bad. What was coming has finally come.