With Lucius’s playful banter, the ice between her and Harry finally broke. In truth, Harry had wanted to chat with Lucius for a while—to ask how she’d been lately. After all, Slytherin wasn’t exactly friendly toward Half-bloods and Mudbloods.
Harry felt that since they’d met at the train station and both came from the Muggle world, there was no need to avoid each other completely just because they were sorted into different houses.
Besides, Lucius was so cute and pretty—according to Harry, who had a thing for looks (ω).
“Lucius, thank you for the gift. I really like it,” Harry said sincerely. He hadn’t expected Lucius to put so much thought into it, and beyond his delight, he was deeply touched.
It felt truly warm to be cared for.
Lucius waved her hand dismissively, looking exasperated. “Come on, Harry, you’ve thanked me at least three times already. My ears are about to grow calluses.”
Listening to the noise outside, Lucius figured it was about time and said to Harry, “Harry, I should go. Your friends are probably on their way, and I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
Oh, Ron. Thinking of him gave Harry a bit of a headache. His friend seemed to hold a strong prejudice against Slytherin and didn’t have the best impression of Lucius.
Except for that stunning glimpse during the Sorting Ceremony (￣▽￣).
“Alright, see you next time.”
“Bye~” Lucius waved and turned to leave, only to run into Madam Pomfrey coming to change Harry’s bandages, along with Ron and Hermione, who were engaged in a heated argument.
They were both surprised to see Lucius, especially Ron, whose sharp eyes noticed she seemed to be coming from Harry’s room. He couldn’t help but widen his eyes and blurt out angrily, “You Slytherin snake, what did you do to Harry?”
“Ron, that’s incredibly rude!” As a casual acquaintance of Lucius, Hermione was a well-mannered and polite girl. She frowned disapprovingly and glared at the flustered Ron. “Ronald, you should apologize to Lucius.”
“But… she’s a Slytherin…” Ron protested weakly, even a bit annoyed that Hermione had used Lucius’s first name.
“I was just here to spread some warmth, not to argue with you.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow mischievously. Though first-year Ron was quite adorable—with his chubby cheeks and lovable “foodie” persona—his loud and impulsive nature was a match for Draco’s.
Both were just immature little kids, nowhere near as sweet and cute as Harry and Hermione (￣o￣) . z Z.
Ron was about to argue further, but a stern warning look from Hermione stopped him. Madam Pomfrey, looking thoroughly annoyed, twisted her eyebrows and scolded, “Mr. Weasley, this is the hospital wing! No shouting allowed. What if you disturb the patients?”
Ron hurriedly apologized, as if worried he’d be kicked out any second, and dragged Hermione quickly toward Harry’s room.
Left behind, Madam Pomfrey could only stare in exasperation, muttering under her breath, “Kids these days are such a handful.”
Lucius thought to herself: Being a doctor is no easy job—worrying like a mother hen. Not easy at all~
She’d definitely steer clear of that profession in the future.
………
Finally, the end-of-year feast arrived. The Great Hall had been completely transformed, decorated with the silver and green colors exclusive to Slytherin, meticulously and beautifully arranged.
The noble and elegant cool tones strangely complemented the joyous atmosphere of young wizards’ happy faces and the rising and falling clamor.
The house points had long been calculated. Slytherin undoubtedly ranked first, Ravenclaw came second, Hufflepuff was third, and Gryffindor ended up at the bottom—partly thanks to Professor Snape, but that goes without saying.
Watching Draco’s gleeful, exceptionally smug face as he danced around, Lucius found it rather adorable. For the honor of their house, every Slytherin seemed to be celebrating a grand festival, their youthful faces beaming with proud and satisfied smiles.
However, troublemakers always had a knack for focusing on the wrong things.
“Hey, Riddle, I heard you went to visit the savior Harry Potter? I never knew you were so charitable,” Pansy Parkinson instantly activated her mocking mode, glancing toward the Gryffindor table in the aisle and speaking sarcastically. From that direction, one could clearly see Harry devouring pies and fried chicken legs with gusto.
Why was this girl so obsessed with her? Lucius was speechless, snorting coldly. “Can’t I visit a friend? Miss Parkinson, you’re overstepping a bit too much.”
Before Pansy could counterattack, Draco, sitting next to Lucius, immediately bristled, no longer focused on the House Cup. He spoke word by word, incredulous: “Lucius! Since when have you and that scarhead become friends? He’s a Gryffindor! How can you be friends with him?”
“What’s wrong with Gryffindor? Who said people from different houses can’t interact? From what I see, it’s because you don’t like Harry that you won’t allow me to be friends with him, right?” Such a domineering child really deserved a beating. Lucius gave Draco a meaningful glance, casually speared a piece of roasted potato—which she hated—and took a fierce bite.
“Aren’t we friends?” Draco puffed out his cheeks, somewhat guilty and short of breath, his face full of grievance and defiance.
A small flame of anger flared high inside him: Lucius was his admirer, friend, and potions partner. How could she get involved with that detestable scarhead? Absolutely not!
Lucius nodded, not denying that they were friends. But since they were friends, mutual respect was still necessary. Bad habits shouldn’t be encouraged.
“You dislike Harry and don’t want me to be friends with him. Fine, I don’t like Parkinson either. Draco, can you cut ties with her?” Lucius glanced at Draco, then shot a sidelong look at Pansy, who was enjoying the show, and said lazily, “Draco, we are friends, after all.”
Blaise, sitting nearby, leisurely ate his steak while watching this drama with great interest, barely holding back a laugh. How had he never noticed before how childish Draco could be? d(д)
“Riddle, you’re truly despicable! You’re actually urging Draco to cut ties with me. Do you think that without me as a rival, a Half-blood like you can aspire to be the next mistress of the Malfoy family? How naive!” Pansy almost jumped up in rage, but fortunately, her close friend Daphne Greengrass quickly pulled her back.
Oh my god, what a huge pot of dog blood drama! Lucius looked up at the sky speechlessly, almost wanting to pry open Pansy’s skull to take a good look—was her brain clogged with shit? How could her thinking be so twisted and distorted!
When had she ever coveted the position of the next lady of the Malfoy family?
Lucius was utterly exasperated. With such wanton slander, did she believe Lucius wouldn’t send a subpoena to Parkinson Manor?
“Parkinson, I really suspect your mother forgot to take brain supplements when she gave birth to you?” Lucius suspected that whenever Draco was involved, Pansy would do a complete 180-degree turn, steering straight into topics of love and marriage.
From ambiguity to admiration, from admiration to love, and from love to marriage—it all happened in the blink of an eye.
But Lucius felt like she had been shot while lying down. Had they ever been ambiguous?
She had clearly been discussing the topic of “friends,” but Pansy, you’re so talented, completely derailing the conversation into the dog-blood drama of “two Slytherin girls fighting over one boy, Parkinson and Riddle vying for Malfoy’s favor.”
Couldn’t she see the Slytherin table watching the drama with sighs and eating melon seeds? Damn Parkinson, ruining her reputation!
Lucius felt like crying but had no tears. She glanced at Draco, one of the focal points of the gossip. At this moment, the arrogant boy was inexplicably “coy,” his pale face flushed crimson, whether from embarrassment and anger or from being infuriated by his pig teammate Pansy.
“Pansy, shut up!” Feeling Lucius’s death glare, Draco hurriedly stopped Pansy. Although he enjoyed being the center of attention and basking in the spotlight, he had no desire to be the male lead in others’ after-dinner gossip.
Pansy huffily turned her face away and finally stopped talking.
Looking at Lucius, who had regained her composure and was calmly eating from her plate as if nothing had happened, Draco felt an inexplicable tightness in his chest.
No matter how immature or arrogant Draco was, he wasn’t a complete fool. At this moment, it finally dawned on him: he had been overthinking things all along. Lucius didn’t like him at all!
And to think he had felt secretly pleased and strangely shy before.
What a cruel reality. Draco sulked, and even his favorite pudding no longer tasted sweet.
The only consolation was that Gryffindor, despite frequently earning points, hadn’t surpassed their house. In the end, Slytherin and Gryffindor tied in points, with the silver serpent and the golden lion sharing the glory. Scarlet and deep green floating ribbons danced throughout the Great Hall, and for a moment, thunderous applause erupted.
Lucius glanced at Dumbledore on the high platform and gave him a sweet smile: at least the old man hadn’t been too biased!