The next morning, Malfoy sat in his study as usual, quietly absorbed in his lessons.
"Knock, knock, knock."
After three crisp knocks, the old butler's voice came through the door.
"Young Master, the Parkinson family has arrived. The master asks that you come greet them."
"Alright, I'll be right there," Malfoy replied evenly.
He closed his book with deliberate care and rose, straightening his robes before leaving the study. As he stepped into the grand hallway, two figures came into view — one tall, one short. Those must be the Parkinsons.
From across the room, Lucius's voice carried warmly.
"Hector, it's been far too long. You haven't changed at all."
A rare smile curved Lucius's lips, though whether it was sincere or not, no one could say.
"Indeed, it's been some time, Lucius," Hector Parkinson answered politely, his tone just as perfunctory.
Lucius turned and beckoned.
"Draco, come here. This is your Uncle Hector — one of my closest friends from back in the day. And still one, I'd like to think."
"Hello, Uncle Hector." Draco gave a slight bow, then stood quietly, hands folded behind his back.
Before anyone could continue, a clear, youthful voice chimed in — sharp as a needle.
"I heard you're a Squib?"
The speaker was, of course, Pansy Parkinson — his supposed "destined partner."
Her personality is every bit as unpleasant as I expected, Malfoy thought dryly.
He studied her discreetly: chestnut hair cut short around her ears, soft yet slightly messy bangs covering her forehead. She wore a gothic-style black pleated dress that contrasted sharply with her fair skin and proud expression. Her whole demeanor screamed "princess." In truth, she was one — pampered and adored within the Parkinson household. But that sharp tongue of hers easily shattered the noble image.
"Pansy! What kind of etiquette is that?" Hector's face darkened instantly. "Apologize at once — to your Uncle Lucius and Young Master Malfoy!"
Pansy turned away with a huff.
"Hmph."
Lucius, however, waved a hand lightly, pretending not to mind.
"Children will be children, Hector. No need to be angry. Draco, take Miss Pansy around the manor for a bit, will you? Your uncle and I have some matters to discuss."
"Yes, Father." Malfoy nodded obediently.
"Pansy, go on and walk with Draco," Hector added, voice stern. "And remember to apologize."
"I don't want to walk with a Squib…" Pansy muttered under her breath.
"Pansy!"
Her father's tone sharpened further.
Malfoy merely smiled faintly and performed a polite bow.
"My beautiful lady, if you would." He gestured toward the hall. "Our fathers seem to have important business to attend to. It would be best if we didn't disturb them."
"Such a little gentleman. Your manners are impeccable," Hector said with a hint of admiration. "Lucius, your boy's education is remarkable. Unlike my daughter, who's been spoiled since birth — lawless and sharp-tongued."
Lucius chuckled smoothly.
"Children are innocent, children are innocent. A little liveliness never hurt anyone. Let them spend some time together — they'll get along fine, I'm sure."
With that, the two men turned toward the staircase and disappeared down the corridor, their voices fading away as they went upstairs.
A heavy silence followed, as though a silencing charm had been cast.
Finally, Malfoy broke it.
"Even if you dislike me, standing here doing nothing must be even more boring, right? You might find something interesting in this manor — who knows?"
As someone who carried the soul of an adult, he had no intention of arguing with a bratty little girl. Better to defuse things and move along.
Pansy hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod.
"Fine. I'll be merciful and let you be my guide."
Despite her reluctant tone, her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. After all, the Malfoy estate was one of the oldest and most mysterious among the pure-blood families. There might indeed be something worth seeing here.
"My pleasure," Malfoy replied with a calm smile.
Little girls really are impossible to handle, he muttered to himself.
They began to walk slowly along the corridor. Expensive lamps cast a soft glow across the gray-black walls, revealing delicate patterns etched by time. Every so often, they passed a painting by a long-dead artist, or a portrait of some solemn Malfoy ancestor gazing down at them.
The manor's interior was labyrinthine, filled with winding passages and countless forks — a place where even a regular guest could easily lose their way.
"Remember to stay close behind me," Malfoy reminded. "It's easy to get lost."
"You've said that three times already," Pansy shot back impatiently. "How annoying, little Squib. Didn't you say you'd show me something interesting? Where is it? Don't tell me it's just these boring old paintings."
The endless corridors had clearly tested her patience.
Malfoy could only sigh inwardly.
If the painters and my ancestors heard you, they'd be crying in their frames.
She's a difficult one, he thought. How should I even begin to coax her?
Then, unexpectedly, a voice came from behind.
"This room looks special."
Malfoy turned sharply. In the dim light, he saw Pansy standing before a heavy stone door carved with strange, ancient symbols. A faint, ominous aura seemed to seep from it.
"Don't go in there!"
His instincts screamed danger. Those markings — he'd seen them before, in a book on ancient dark magic.
But before he could stop her, curiosity got the better of Pansy. The little girl pushed open the stone door without hesitation.
To Malfoy's surprise, the door — which looked far too heavy for an eight-year-old — swung open easily. And then, eerily, began to close again on its own.
Pansy, staring in awe at the room beyond, didn't even notice.
"Sigh…"
Malfoy exhaled, shaking his head. There was no helping it. He rushed in after her, slipping through just before the stone door shut completely.
Creak.
The heavy door sealed behind them with a deep rumble, cutting off the faint light from the corridor. The room was plunged into darkness.
Pansy froze, finally realizing something was wrong.
"Fortunately, it's not some kind of forbidden area…"
Malfoy murmured, scanning their surroundings with what little light he could find. Broken wands, scattered magical ingredients, and the faint smell of potion residue filled the space.
Drawing on his memory — and his knowledge of his father — Malfoy quickly pieced things together.
"With security this poor, anyone could wander in. Father, how do you dare conduct dark magic research so carelessly? Aren't you afraid of a sudden raid from the Ministry of Magic?"
Judging from the clues and his understanding of Lucius, this was clearly a private laboratory — the place where Lucius studied forbidden arts.
But that wasn't his main concern right now.
The door was sealed tight, and the darkness was absolute. The priority was to get out.
"I wonder if this young lady has started panicking yet…"
He sighed quietly.
If it weren't for her, he wouldn't mind being trapped here for a while. The place was fascinating, and though his knowledge of advanced dark magic was limited, he could at least perform a basic Lumos charm. With that and a few books, spending a few hours here wouldn't be unpleasant.
But now, with a frightened little girl beside him… that was a different matter.
Pansy finally spoke, her voice trembling ever so slightly despite her best effort to sound calm.
"What is this place? It's so dark and gloomy… You said the Malfoy family is rich, right? Don't tell me you can't even afford a lamp. My house doesn't have creepy rooms like this."
Despite her fear, her sharp tongue hadn't dulled.
Malfoy stayed silent in the darkness.
He had decided to give the little princess a small lesson.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you scared silly?" Pansy pressed, her tone half-mocking, half-nervous.
Malfoy still said nothing.
In truth, he was quietly gathering his focus, letting the silence stretch — just long enough for her bravado to falter.
In the pitch-black room, every shuffle and breath grew louder. The air was thick, the scent of old magic lingering faintly.
Finally, Pansy's voice cracked ever so slightly.
"Hey… you're not really scared, are you?"
Still no answer.
She took a step closer, heart pounding. "H-Hey, answer me!"
Then, at last, a faint light bloomed — a soft glow illuminating Malfoy's face as he raised his wand.
"Lumos."
The tiny flame revealed shelves lined with strange artifacts, dusty tomes, and potion flasks that shimmered faintly in the glow.
Pansy flinched, eyes wide.
"Don't worry," Malfoy said with a faint smile. "This isn't a dungeon. Just… my father's secret study. Though I doubt we were supposed to find it."
Her lips parted slightly, but she couldn't find a retort.
"Tch… who cares," she muttered finally, folding her arms. "It's not like I was scared or anything."
Malfoy only chuckled.
"Of course not. The brave Miss Parkinson doesn't get scared."
Her face puffed up slightly, and she turned away.
"You're mocking me again, aren't you?"
"Not at all," he said, his tone smooth as silk. "But next time, perhaps don't open random doors glowing with dark symbols. Some things in this manor bite back."
For a moment, she didn't reply — just stared at the light flickering in his hand.
Then, quietly, she said,
"You're strange."
"Hmm?"
"For a Squib, you act like a real wizard."
Malfoy smiled faintly.
"Maybe I just read too many books."
The light reflected in her eyes softened her expression. For the first time, she didn't look haughty or rude — just curious.
They stood there in silence, surrounded by the remnants of Lucius's secrets, the glow of Lumos gently pushing back the dark.
Outside, the manor remained quiet, unaware that two children had stumbled into the shadows of something far more dangerous than they realized.