The Levitation Charm.
It was one of the most basic entry-level spells.
In fact, Hermione and the others weren't even supposed to learn it until their next Charms class.
As the name implied, it was a simple spell used to make objects float. Not particularly practical, but ideal for young wizards to train their casting techniques...
Once mastered, it not only helped increase casting speed but also, by lifting heavier objects, it became a way to train magical control.
Simply put, it was one of the few spells where more magical power directly translated into greater effect.
But to perform it like Draco just did—that was something else entirely...
"It... it stopped!?"
"I know the Levitation Charm, but it can do this?!"
From intense motion to complete stillness.
The way Draco cast the spell practically flipped the coffin lid on the laws of science. The display was so surreal, so magical, that everyone stood dumbfounded.
Especially the Muggle-born students—they looked like they were dreaming.
"That level of magic power and control... is this a joke?"
Unlike the others, Hermione, who had learned more about magic than most of her peers, understood exactly what this meant.
Watching Draco calmly stow away his wand, her gaze grew distant, a little shaken.
Faced with this reality, she had to admit the gap between them.
But only for a moment.
Hermione, ever proud, pulled herself together almost instantly.
'I absolutely won't lose to this irritating... this guy who, fine, does have some strengths!!'
Perhaps sensing her stare, Draco turned his head toward it.
"???"
He'd just helped the little witch who came to him for aid.
So why—
Was this wild kitten still glaring at him?
...
For the young wizards, life at Hogwarts was new and uncomplicated.
They rose at the same time each day.
Their magic classes were scheduled in advance, and when they weren't in class, they stayed in the common rooms—working on homework or playing a round of Wizard's Chess...
Simply put, Hogwarts wasn't all that big.
And as a result, students' social lives were confined to a relatively small circle.
Which meant that, inevitably, there were no real secrets among them.
Before long, the events of the flying lesson had spread throughout the entire school...
And the center of attention?
Of course, it was Ron Weasley from Gryffindor and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin.
As for Neville Longbottom, who had lost control and been rescued by Draco—he barely drew any attention in the aftermath...
Ron Weasley—
The red-haired wizard from a noble pure-blood family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. That sounded prestigious, but once they got used to Hogwarts life, most students realized something:
Being from a pure-blood family didn't automatically make someone powerful.
Most Hogwarts students came from Muggle families.
Even those like Ron, from wizarding households, weren't necessarily more advanced. In fact, thanks to his playful nature and his battered old wand, Ron ended up among the least competent...
Still, Ron's case didn't represent all wizarding children.
In fact, one particular Gryffindor witch had already demonstrated remarkable magical talent.
Sure, her dedication played a part—but there was no denying it.
Without natural talent, she couldn't have turned knowledge into power so effectively...
And then there was the other central figure.
In just a few days, he had become a rather extraordinary presence in Slytherin.
That was—
Draco Malfoy of Slytherin.
Like Ron, he came from a wizarding family and was also one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
But their performance at Hogwarts couldn't have been more different—and it wasn't just about what happened in class.
Noble background.
Polished manners.
A wealth of knowledge.
And the grace to save a student from a rival house.
It only took a few days before Draco's name had spread through all the houses...
…
The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning clamor.
But today, the chatter was centered on one person—Draco, seated at the Slytherin table.
"Did you hear what happened in flying class?"
"Yeah, of course. The first-year who used the Levitation Charm, right?"
"No, that was way beyond just levitating something."
"Even upper-years wouldn't be able to pull off something like that!"
"That's him, right?"
"Is he really a first-year?"
"The one from the Sorting Ceremony?"
Curious voices. Doubtful whispers.
As Draco stepped into the hall, the air around him was filled with talk—about him.
"So, how does it feel to be famous?"
"Don't talk while eating."
"Hmph!"
Pansy, teasing as usual, got shut down by a single sentence from Draco.
Not wanting to appear unladylike, she could only huff quietly and chomp down hard on her toast—maybe imagining it was someone else's face...
But in the very next moment—
'Now they'll all finally realize how amazing Draco really is!'
Hearing the awed conversations around her, Pansy felt elated.
This must be what it feels like to bask in someone else's glory.
And it wasn't just the other houses who were affected.
Within Slytherin itself—
Sure, Draco had made an impression during the Sorting Ceremony, but not every Slytherin had understood what that meant.
Most had simply seen him as someone with a prestigious background, nothing more...
That was, until word of the flying lesson started spreading.
Only then did the Slytherins begin to grasp why the Prefects treated him the way they did.
Now, they hovered near Draco, acting like his loyal followers.
His intimidating background alone had been impressive.
Now, with power to match—power that turned potential into ability?
Or maybe the Prefects had seen something else entirely: his willingness to help, even a student from a rival house.
After all, fear never ensures loyalty...
What the other Slytherins saw was Draco's strength.
To catch someone plummeting from the sky with just a Levitation Charm?
That wasn't something most Hogwarts students could pull off.
Even Professor Hooch, who'd been there, would've struggled to manage it that cleanly—
Though, admittedly, her reaction time had left much to be desired...
...
Amid the stares and murmurs, Draco himself remained unchanged.
He simply enjoyed the breakfast prepared by the Hogwarts house-elves.
Graceful.
In the morning light, his hair shimmered a pale gold.
That air about him—something no one could replicate.
Seated at the Slytherin table, Draco was undeniably the center of attention.
And perhaps, to him, none of this was even worth mentioning.
Strangely enough, Draco's unshaken composure had a ripple effect.
The younger Slytherins instinctively toned down their prideful airs.
Their movements became more refined, their conversations faded into silence.
The only thing left was the faint gleam of obsession in their eyes.
The Prince of Slytherin.
That was the nickname a few young witches in the house had started using for Draco.
And no, it definitely wasn't something Pansy came up with on her own.
Draco himself had no idea.
Or maybe—
He just didn't care about things like that.
But after today—
It was clear that in Slytherin,
The title "Prince of Slytherin"
Would no longer be whispered only among Pansy and a few others...