Mornings at Hogwarts officially begin at 7:30.
At that time, the Forbidden Forest outside the castle would echo with the cries and howls of various magical creatures.
Whether rain or shine, wind or storm, those sounds came like clockwork every morning—almost like a biological alarm for the students...
Draco was dragged from sleep by the call of some unknown aquatic creature.
"If you two don't get up soon, you can forget about being first in line for breakfast."
"I'm pretty sure there won't be much pumpkin juice left either."
Draco's muttered warning didn't sound particularly loud or threatening—hard to imagine it'd wake the deeply sleeping Goyle and Crabbe.
But surprisingly, it did the trick.
"Food... food!"
"Pumpkin juice!"
The two of them bolted upright as if someone had lit a fire under their beds.
Just seconds ago, they looked dead to the world. But the mention of food had them alert and full of energy in no time.
Draco, halfway through changing out of his pajamas, froze in place, both annoyed and amused.
He hadn't expected such a casual comment to be so effective.
But now he knew: if he ever needed these two to do something, food was the key.
Especially pumpkin. That seemed to work best...
...
Come to think of it, the number of students per Hogwarts dormitory was strictly regulated.
Unless you were a Prefect or on the student council, the standard number was supposed to be four per room.
Draco had noticed that the number "four" seemed to hold some special significance at Hogwarts.
But maybe due to a shortage of students, his dorm currently housed only three...
Which meant no one could see the body he kept hidden under his robes.
Likely a side effect of the dragon soul.
Beyond the subtle, invisible changes, it had also left him with striking looks—and a body that didn't match his delicate appearance.
"Draco, did you drink some kind of potion?"
"Something like... Dragon Power Elixir?"
Every time they saw him, Goyle and Crabbe would ask the same question, full of envy.
To them, fists were far more reliable than spells.
No wonder they envied Draco's strength.
"Let's not even get into what a Dragon Power Elixir is."
"But I do know if you two keep staring at me like that, I'll help you wake up in my own way."
Draco had zero interest in letting anyone ogle his body.
"....."
"....."
His words had the desired effect.
Goyle and Crabbe leapt from their beds, scrambling to throw on their school robes.
They knew Draco never joked around—especially not about this.
They'd both "experienced" his brand of help before.
So now, they didn't even dare to speak. Just moved.
Watching them flail around, Draco sighed and cast a charm on himself.
A quick spell tied his green-and-silver Slytherin tie perfectly.
Another cleared away any dust from his clothes.
He ignored the hopeful looks from the other two, who clearly wanted a charm like that for themselves.
Instead, he found himself wondering about the changes in his body...
Was this what it meant to be naturally gifted?
He had never trained intentionally—not even once.
And yet... he couldn't deny he was curious about the answer.
…
Although wizards had plenty of convenient spells at their disposal, for new students—especially those who hadn't yet mastered even the most basic charms—being away from their parents for the first time, without magical tools or house-elves, could turn into a total disaster.
This was especially true for the Slytherins—the little snakes who had grown up in pure-blood wizarding families...
So when Draco entered the common room, what he saw were flustered first-years struggling with the simplest tasks.
Some couldn't even tie their ties. Others had managed to put their robes on backwards.
Several upperclassmen, worried these fresh-faced Slytherins would bring shame to the house, had stepped in to offer some rather hands-on "guidance."
It was, admittedly, a hilarious sight.
Who would've guessed that the Slytherins—always the picture of noble composure in front of the other houses—would ever be caught in such a mess?
Then again, it also proved something:
Not everyone was like Draco, who had already learned how to cast spells before even setting foot in Hogwarts.
Just as he was about to head to the dining hall, someone suddenly stepped into his path.
"Draco!"
The one who appeared was a petite girl, dressed in a Slytherin-crest robe just like his.
Short brown hair.
Delicate features still tinged with youth.
And on her face—clear traces of irritation.
From looks alone, she gave off the impression of someone with a rather headstrong personality.
Pansy Parkinson...
The Parkinsons weren't just one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They were also closely tied to the Malfoy family.
Naturally, members of both families were often seen together at formal events.
Naturally, Pansy—the little princess of the Parkinson family—had known Draco since they were children.
And because of that, she seemed to have clung to him ever since...
"Oh, Pansy. So you're a new student too?"
Draco genuinely felt glad to see his childhood acquaintance here at Hogwarts.
But the moment he said that, Goyle and Crabbe behind him instinctively took a step back.
Some kind of beastly instinct, perhaps?
"Draco, don't tell me... you didn't even notice me?"
"Or are your eyes only on that Gryffindor mu—"
Thud!
"Ugh~"
Draco chopped her lightly on the head with the edge of his hand before she could finish.
Pansy clutched her head, pouting—but wisely dropped the sentence before it turned uglier.
That kind of term wasn't exactly welcome in polite wizarding society.
Especially not from a girl who otherwise looked so sweet...
"Real nobles don't badmouth others behind their backs."
"Oooh... I know, but still..."
"Come on. Don't you want to see what they serve for breakfast at Hogwarts?"
"Hmm... okay."
Draco hadn't set out to change how others thought.
But in truth, his words and actions were already starting to affect those around him in subtle ways.
Well...
Except for Goyle and Crabbe. Nothing could stop those two from being gluttons.