After having a wild time with the Twin Brothers for a while, it had to be said that they truly lived up to their reputation as Hogwarts’ social butterflies and party animals. Lucius was almost tricked into going on an adventure with them in the Forbidden Forest.
However, the unexpected gain was: a box of sour Exploding Bonbons, enchanted prank candies that were said to be able to burn holes in one’s tongue. Ron had once fallen victim to them.
Truly the kings of pranks, even their gifts were so symbolic.
When Lucius returned to the Slytherin common room, he vaguely noticed that there weren’t many people around. Oh, it seemed there was a conspicuous platinum-blond head on the longest and softest two-person sofa. “Oh, Draco? Why are you alone here?”
This isn’t scientific, is it? Lucius looked around but didn’t see those two ever-present followers, Goyle and Crabbe. Even the admirers Parkinson and Nott were nowhere to be found?
“Stop looking, I sent them all away,” Draco said with a pout, seemingly displeased with Lucius’s nosy behavior.
Truly a Malfoy, as domineering as ever. Since when did the common room become your exclusive private space?
Lucius found a thick leather sofa opposite and sat down, looking at the despondent young master Malfoy with surprise. His face was still pale and weak, his expression downcast and unhappy, as if he had suffered some terrible blow. But was that even possible?
Oh, unless he had suffered a loss at Harry’s hands, or perhaps hadn’t managed to get even.
“You must have heard, right?” Draco said listlessly.
“Heard what?” Lucius wore a puzzled expression.
Lucius was completely confused. He hadn’t paid much attention to the disputes between Draco and Harry. These two seemed like natural enemies, entangled in a life-or-death struggle. If Harry hadn’t later married Ginny and Draco hadn’t married the second daughter of the Greengrass family, both living quite well, Lucius would have thought they were a perfect match.
A classic case of “opposites attract”—the H/D ship.
“Oh my god! Lucius, what on earth goes on in your head all day? Almost the whole of Hogwarts knows by now! That detestable scarhead! Potter actually got an exception to join the house Quidditch team! It’s not fair! I’m definitely writing to my father!”
Draco said angrily, his pretty little face twisted beyond recognition, his features contorted in a truly comical manner. What a waste of a handsome face.
Lucius couldn’t help but think to himself, pursing his lips: Oh, so Harry became the Seeker for the Gryffindor house team. What a big deal, to get this angry over it. Truly a boy who treats Quidditch as the most important thing in life.
Of course, Lucius had heard about it, but it had gone in one ear and out the other.
Although he had only attended half of the flying class before excusing himself with a claim of feeling unwell—Lucius really couldn’t stand the discomfort of sitting on a broomstick—he still knew exactly what had happened afterward.
He really couldn’t understand these boys who were almost fanatical about flying broomsticks. Didn’t they find sitting on a broomstick unbearably uncomfortable? Most importantly, wouldn’t it hurt that area between their legs? Wouldn’t it have some impact on… future matters in that regard?
Lucius’s mind was spinning rapidly, seemingly unaware that his thoughts had strayed too far.
But why was Draco complaining to her now? Was it because he considered her a friend? Or was it because others couldn’t stand the incessant whining of the arrogant young master and brushed him off too casually, leading this little lord to choose her, his new Half-blood friend, as his emotional dumping ground?
“Lucius, what’s that look in your eyes? Do you think it’s my fault too? Damn it, that Lilith actually said I had no brains, letting Scarhead get away with it. How dare a Nott criticize a Malfoy? Hmph! She’s lost her chance to become a friend of the noble Malfoys!”
Just thinking about how Lilith, who used to fawn over him and act all clingy, had publicly embarrassed him, Draco couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t because he liked her, but because of his pride as a Malfoy.
No way! Has the sun risen from the west? Lucius leaned in with a gossipy expression, eagerly pressing, “Wasn’t Nott your loyal admirer? Did she really say you… That’s simply unbelievable!”
That fellow townsgirl Lilith had finally had enough of the arrogant young master. Well, no girl likes a noisy, ill-tempered boy, even if he’s a pure-blooded little hottie.
Seeing Draco’s expression grow increasingly ugly, on the verge of unleashing a storm, Lucius wisely reined in her gossipy curiosity. She patted his shoulder in a buddy-buddy tone and said, “What’s the big deal? I’ll take you to a great place where you can vent to your heart’s content and feel much better!”
As a true friend, and for the sake of more conveniently fleecing him in the future, Lucius decided to take Draco to a secret base she had recently discovered.
The Room of Requirement, a magical place.
The area Lucius and the others entered wasn’t particularly special—not as grand and magnificent as the Great Hall, nor as cozy and elegant as the dormitory in the dungeon. It was a square room, not very spacious, with fluorescent lights, walls plastered with celebrity posters, a large bed, two chairs, and a bulging oversized punching bag. It was the humble abode Lucius was familiar with from her previous life.
“Such a cramped place? Your home? Who’s this guy? He looks weird.” Draco pointed at the portrait of the handsome Chinese man with a mix of disdain and curiosity, his gray-blue eyes sparkling like a little puppy’s. It was clear he was quite excited.
Draco was indeed excited. He knew about the Room of Requirement but had never been inside. It was said to be extremely secretive, undetectable even by the Marauder’s Map.
Lucius didn’t mind and paid no attention to his nonsense. “Of course it can’t compare to Malfoy Manor. This is my humble abode. Let me show you something.”
Lucius recited a Transfiguration spell, and the large punching bag instantly transformed into the likeness of Harry Potter. Draco was shocked. “Potter?” He knew Lucius was excellent at Transfiguration, but he hadn’t expected her to be this skilled.
“It’s just a fake. You can start punching him now!” Lucius stepped aside, grinning. Although it was a transfigured illusion, it was quite lifelike, even surpassing the wax figures at Madame Tussauds.
Sorry, Harry, Lucius silently apologized. It’s just a fake, after all. To keep fleecing Draco and for the sake of their friendship as classmates, she had to make him happy first, right?
It turns out that venting when you’re unhappy is absolutely useful. After wearing leather gloves and furiously punching the Harry sandbag for about an hour, Draco was almost completely exhausted, his little face flushed red like a ripe apple, but his mood was clearly much more relaxed.
He still kept shouting incessantly: “Damn scarhead! Damn Potter! Just you wait, I’ll beat you flat, see how you strut around, see how you oppose me…”
Lucius was eating a piece of chocolate and handed him one too, suddenly struck by inspiration: “Draco, do you like Harry Potter?”
If you didn’t like him, why would you care so much? Look at how flat the Harry sandbag has been beaten! How much love, how much hate is this? Just because he rejected you? Look how angry you are!
What a twisted fate! Lucius secretly smiled: The Drarry ship is still pretty sweet.