HP: Different Draco

The next morning unfolded like any other, with Draco Malfoy immersed in his studies in the quiet of his private study.

A knock at the door broke the stillness, followed by the familiar voice of the old butler. "Young Master, the Parkinson family has arrived. The master has requested your presence to greet them."

"I'll be there shortly," Draco replied evenly.

Closing his book with deliberate care, he rose and made his way toward the grand living room. As he approached, he caught sight of two figures—one tall and commanding, the other smaller and undoubtedly younger. These, he surmised, were the Parkinson family members visiting that day.

"Hector, it has been far too long," Lucius Malfoy greeted warmly, a rare smile gracing his pale features. Yet, as with many of Lucius's gestures, it was difficult to discern just how much of it was genuine.

"Indeed, it has, Lucius," Hector Parkinson replied, his tone carrying the same measured politeness. The exchange was formal, their words carefully chosen, like pieces in a chess game.

"Draco, come here," Lucius called, motioning for his son to step forward. "This is your Uncle Hector, one of my oldest and dearest friends."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Uncle Hector," Draco said with a slight bow, his voice calm and respectful. He then lapsed into silence, observing the scene with practiced composure.

Before the conversation could continue, a sharp, youthful voice cut through the air. "I heard you're supposed to be... magically weak?"

There was no mistaking the source of the remark: Pansy Parkinson, the daughter of the visiting family and his presumed future match within the pure-blood social order.

Her personality is exactly as irritating as I expected, Draco mused inwardly, though he allowed no trace of his thoughts to show on his face. He turned his attention to her, assessing her appearance.

Pansy's short chestnut hair fell just to her ears, her bangs slightly untidy and shadowing most of her forehead. She wore a finely tailored Gothic black pleated dress, its elaborate design underscoring her family's wealth and status. Her proud expression only reinforced the air of superiority she projected, perfectly embodying the image of a pampered young aristocrat.

In fairness, the term "princess" was not entirely misplaced. Pansy was doted on by her family, earning her the affectionate title of their "little princess." It was easy to see how such favoritism had cultivated her imperious and self-assured demeanor.

But harsh words, when unchecked, can easily shatter even the most noble demeanor.

"Pansy!" Hector's face darkened as he heard his daughter's remark. His tone was sharp as he rebuked her. "Is this the etiquette I've taught you? Apologize at once to your Uncle Lucius and Master Malfoy!"

"Hmph." Pansy turned her head away defiantly, refusing to speak.

"Children can be thoughtless, Hector. There's no need to be upset," Lucius interjected smoothly, as though he hadn't heard the slight against his family. His voice was calm, his expression unreadable. "Draco, why don't you show Pansy around the manor? Hector and I have matters to discuss."

"Yes, Father," Draco replied, offering a slight nod before turning to face Pansy.

"Pansy, go with Draco—and be sure to apologize," Hector instructed firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"I don't want to spend time with a… lesser wizard," Pansy muttered under her breath, barely audible but unmistakable in her meaning.

"Pansy!" Hector's voice grew sterner, the weight of his displeasure evident.

"Please, come in, beautiful lady," Draco said with a slight bow, executing the courtesy of a gentleman. "I imagine our fathers must have matters of importance to discuss, so it's likely best we avoid disturbing them for now."

"What a gentleman you are," Hector remarked with a hint of admiration. "Your manners are impeccable. Lucius, I must say, your education has truly been successful. Unlike Pansy, who has been indulged since childhood—lawless and bold enough to say anything that comes to her mind."

Lucius chuckled lightly, a rare note of amusement in his voice. "Children should speak freely. It's good for them to be lively. The more they spend time together, the better." He glanced toward Draco and continued, "I'm confident you'll get along well. Take care of Pansy. Your uncle and I will go upstairs now. It's been far too long since we've had a proper conversation." With that, he turned to ascend the staircase, Hector following closely behind, their figures fading as they disappeared from view.

A thick silence lingered in the room, heavy and almost suffocating, as if an invisible spell had been cast to enforce it.

Eventually, it was Draco who broke the stillness. "Even if you don't particularly like me, standing here in silence is hardly more entertaining than accompanying me. Perhaps you'll find something of interest in this manor?" As a soul seasoned by years of experience, Draco saw no merit in quarreling with a petulant child. Instead, he chose to take the first step in shattering the awkward silence, offering a more pleasant alternative.

It seemed that Pansy, finding the stillness of the moment rather dull, reluctantly nodded. "Very well, I'll be merciful and allow you to be my tour guide." Despite the tone of her words, there was a glimmer of curiosity beneath her begrudging expression. After all, the Malfoy family was one of the most ancient and esteemed wizarding houses. Perhaps something of interest awaited in this mysterious manor.

"It would be my pleasure," Draco replied smoothly, concealing his annoyance with practiced politeness.

Women truly are unpredictable and challenging to understand, Draco couldn't help but think. Having remained single in his previous life, he found himself reflecting on the peculiarities of the opposite sex.

The two of them made their way slowly through the winding corridors of the manor. The opulent lamps lining the hallway cast a soft, amber glow that illuminated the intricacies of the gray and black walls, their surface marked by the wear of centuries. Every so often, they would pass a painting of a long-forgotten wizard or a portrait of one of the Malfoy ancestors, each piece steeped in history and grandeur.

The manor's interior was a maze of twisting hallways and countless intersections. Draco knew it well but was aware that anyone unfamiliar with the layout might easily become disoriented. Turning to Pansy, he cautioned, "Stay close, remember. The manor's easy to get lost in."

"You've said that three times already. Are you trying to annoy me, you squib?" Pansy snapped, her impatience clearly rising. "You promised to show me something interesting. Don't tell me it's just more of these dreary paintings on the walls."

Her words dripped with frustration as she shot Draco an irritated look.

"The artists of these paintings and the ancestors of the Malfoy family would be weeping if they heard what you just said," Draco thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the irritation. "What a difficult little girl to entertain. How am I supposed to appease her?"

As he continued walking, lost in thought, Pansy's voice suddenly broke through.

"This room is... very special."

Draco quickly turned his head, following her gaze in the dim light. Pansy had stopped before a stone door, its surface carved with strange, arcane symbols that seemed to exude a sinister, foreboding aura.

Draco's mind immediately raced. This room... there's something wrong with it. A passage from a book on the Dark Arts flashed through his thoughts. The symbols on the door matched spells he had read about—ancient and forbidden magics.

"Pansy, don't go in!" Draco shouted urgently, but his warning came too late. Driven by her insatiable curiosity, Pansy pushed open the door and stepped inside. What struck Draco as even stranger was how the heavy stone door, which should have required considerable strength to move, was opened so easily by an eight-year-old girl.

Then, something even more bizarre occurred. The stone door, which had been pushed wide open, began to slowly close on its own.

Pansy, engrossed in the room's contents, didn't seem to notice the door's movement.

With a resigned sigh, Draco shook his head. Of course, it's always me who has to clean up the mess, he thought as he rushed toward the door.

The stone door creaked as it continued to close, and with a final thud, it slammed shut behind him. The soft light from the lamps outside the room vanished in an instant, plunging the space into darkness.

Pansy, who had been inspecting the secret room with wide-eyed fascination, finally seemed to realize something was amiss. She turned back to see the door shut tight, trapping them both inside.

"Fortunately, this isn't a restricted area," Draco muttered under his breath as he entered the room, immediately scanning the dimly lit space.

His eyes fell on several magical materials and a broken wand, and with a quick, analytical glance, he deduced the room's purpose.

"Such lax security measures... Any two people could easily break in. How can he study the Forbidden Dark Arts so recklessly? Isn't he worried the Ministry of Magic will come crashing down at any moment?" Draco thought, his frustration brewing.

With his extensive knowledge and an understanding of his father's habits, he quickly pieced it together. This secret room was, in fact, Lucius Malfoy's private laboratory, a place where he regularly conducted his dark studies.

Though Malfoy felt a tinge of irritation at his father's recklessness, now was not the time to dwell on it. The immediate concern was how to escape.

I wonder if the young lady is frightened, he mused, his head beginning to ache again. If it weren't for this burden, I could simply stay in this dark room. It wouldn't be an issue for me; after all, I've yet to study any advanced dark magic, but with just a simple Lumos spell and the books in here, I could easily pass the time for a day.

Draco's thoughts returned to the task at hand. The real question now was how to deal with Pansy and find a way out of the locked room.

But things were different now.

Pansy seemed to have finally regained her senses. Although her expression was hidden by the darkness, if there had been any light, Draco would have easily noticed the subtle tremor in her form—an unmistakable sign of her fear.

Pansy, however, tried to maintain her composure. "What kind of place is this in your house? It's so dark and dreary, and there's not even a light. Didn't I hear the Malfoy family is known for its wealth? Could it be that you can't even afford a light?" She scoffed. "There's nothing like this in my house." Despite her fear, her sharp tongue remained as unyielding as ever.

Draco chose not to respond in the darkness.

He decided that this moment might be a good opportunity to teach the young girl a small lesson.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Have you gone silent from fear?" Pansy's taunt cut through the stillness of the room.