When Draco returned to the three-person dormitory he shared with Crabbe and Goyle in the Slytherin common room, the two gluttonous boys were clumsily trying to stick their Chocolate Frog cards onto their bedposts, leaving their hands covered in chocolate.
The room was filled with an overly sweet smell.
Draco wrinkled his nose, and for no particular reason, a trace of the refreshing tea fragrance and exquisite pastries from the afternoon tea flashed through his mind.
Ah, those were the days.
He waved his hand, ignoring the two followers’ muffled greetings, and went straight to his desk.
He pulled out a special piece of parchment bearing the faint watermark of the Malfoy family crest and picked up his quill.
He wrote far more cautiously and at much greater length than he usually did when sending his mother a letter to report that he was safe.
He described Henry Wales, placing particular emphasis on what the surname meant within the royal family.
He also mentioned Henry’s private meeting with Dumbledore during breakfast.
Although Draco had no idea what they had actually discussed, the fact that the headmaster had summoned Henry privately was useful information in itself.
Then, using practically every sophisticated word he knew, Draco went into great detail about the afternoon tea.
The delicate thinness of the bone china and its platinum trim, the contents of the three-tiered dessert stand, the elegance of Henry’s movements as he poured the tea—an elegance that could never be achieved through mere imitation—as well as Henry’s keen observations of Slytherin’s rules, his respect for the traditions of ancient families, and those meaningful words he had spoken at the end.
Draco wrote down his assessment:
“He is definitely not merely a curious Muggle-born. The resources and perspectives he has displayed are unique, perhaps even things we have never encountered before. He mentioned mutual benefit. Father, I believe he is worth observing further and maintaining limited contact with. He seems to understand our rules very well.”
At the end of the letter, he added one more sentence:
“He called me ‘Draco’ when we were speaking privately.”
At almost exactly the same time, in the girls’ dormitory, Pansy was also hunched over her desk, her quill moving rapidly across the parchment.
The excited flush on her face had yet to fade.
Her letter to her father was much more emotional and filled with vivid details.
“You absolutely cannot imagine how exquisite that tea set was! It was even more refined than the antiques we once saw at that magical estate auction…”
“Every movement His Highness Henry made”—Draco had insisted on using that honorific—”was like a painting.
The way he spoke…
Oh, Father, when he mentioned the Parkinson family’s participation in that debate concerning goblin rights, he seemed so knowledgeable and respectful!”
“He said that Slytherin’s rules were clear and hierarchical, and that someone as organized as Gemma Farley was destined to hold power…”
“I don’t think he merely wants to make friends. It feels as though he is… establishing some kind of salon? Like the ones that used to be popular in the French wizarding world, the kind you once told me about.”
“He is the center, while Draco and I may be the first guests invited. That’s important, isn’t it? I think we should take this connection seriously.”
That very evening, Lucius received his son’s letter.
He sat before the fireplace with his wife, reading their son’s correspondence together. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
The flames danced in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across his face.
“I never expected there to be a member of the Muggle royal family among this year’s new students,” Narcissa said with some emotion.
“And he’s a Slytherin…”
“Not merely a member of the royal family. He is also the eldest son of the Prince of Wales, the heir apparent.”
Lucius’s expression was difficult to read.
“Do you think Draco should associate with him?” Narcissa asked.
“This could very well be an opportunity, Cissy.”
Lucius smiled before continuing.
“The Ministry’s direction is becoming increasingly troubling. And Fudge is a complete fool. He is far too easy for others to manipulate.”
He paused and looked toward the darkness outside the window.
“Ever since those days, the position of the pure-blood families in wizarding society has become increasingly delicate. Some people are even advocating compromise with Muggle-borns…”
He hesitated.
“Perhaps…”
Narcissa’s brows knitted slightly, and disgust colored her voice.
“But Draco’s letter says Dumbledore is clearly making things convenient for him. That old madman…”
“That’s precisely what makes this interesting—and what makes it dangerous.”
Lucius turned around.
“Dumbledore is tacitly permitting, perhaps even supporting, him in establishing some degree of influence here. That means this boy, or the Muggle royal power behind him, may have some kind of understanding or arrangement with Dumbledore that we know nothing about.”
“But if even Dumbledore believes he is worth investing in…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Narcissa already understood what he meant.
“So you’re saying…”
“Let Draco continue associating with him. Keep observing.”
Lucius’s decision was swift and clear.
“But he must be even more cautious. We cannot appear overly eager. That would make it seem as though the Malfoy family needs to curry favor with someone.”
“He needs to understand that this is an equal relationship based on mutual respect and potential mutual benefit.”
“Guide Draco. From this young prince, he should learn more than merely those superficial forms of etiquette. He should try to understand how the Muggle world’s upper echelons actually function—their logic of power, and how they view the wizarding world.”
“Those are more valuable pieces of information than Galleons.”
He pulled out a sheet of letter paper bearing the emblem of a coiled silver serpent, picked up his emerald-encrusted quill, and began writing his reply to Draco.
His handwriting was elegant and elaborate:
“Your keen observations are worthy of praise. Associating with peers who possess unique backgrounds and perspectives is an essential quality and sign of foresight in a gentleman of the future.”
“Remember, the Malfoys appreciate elegance and wisdom, regardless of what form they happen to wear.”
“Dumbledore’s attention is a signal worth noting, but there is no need to overinterpret it. Focus more of your energy on understanding the world represented by Mr. Wales—its history, its rules, and the way it views matters. This may provide you with some new ideas.”
“Maintain your composure and judgment. You may share some family anecdotes that do not concern our core secrets as topics of conversation, but more importantly, listen.”
“Learning how to extract valuable information from conversation is a skill more useful than any spell.”
Compared with the Malfoy family’s cautious approach, Mr.
Parkinson’s reply was considerably more enthusiastic.
Although the Parkinsons were one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and staunch believers in pure-blood supremacy, the Parkinson and Malfoy families had both adhered to one principle for a very long time:
Muggle aristocrats could communicate with wizards as equals.
There was actually something rather amusing about it.
Whether Muggle aristocrats or pure-blood wizards, both were, to some extent, people who believed strongly in the superiority of their own bloodlines.
Moreover, pure-blood families were now in a state of decline, their former glory long gone.
On top of that, the master they had once pledged themselves to—Voldemort—had failed.
Many pure-blood families were therefore searching for a way out.
And now, Henry’s appearance was clearly a wonderful opportunity.
An opportunity to restore their family’s former glory.
A wizard born into the royal family, the eldest grandson, and a direct heir…
What that represented was self-evident.
To ease his son’s psychological reservations, Mr.
Parkinson even searched through the family’s collection of books and found historical records of their ancestors once earning land grants through their service to the royal family.
The next morning at breakfast, the two replies arrived at the Hogwarts Great Hall.
The letters were delivered with pinpoint accuracy onto the table of their young masters.