Chapter 2: Quiet Observation.
A true Malfoy wouldn't show his emotions on the surface. He would observe carefully before jumping to conclusions, rather than letting anyone see any surface fluctuations.
Draco is such a Malfoy. Or rather, the man shaped by his long dark memories is no longer the arrogant and willful boy he once was, but has gradually become a cautious and calm person.
But this state of mind might not apply to his interactions with his parents. They were completely oblivious to the drastic changes taking place in Draco's heart, still thinking of him as an 11-year-old boy. If they discovered their proud and headstrong son had suddenly become silent and withdrawn overnight, they would be keenly aware that something was amiss.
How would he explain all this then? Draco himself hadn't figured it out, and he didn't want to rashly say anything sensational at this point.
Draco was used to not trusting anyone, and he no longer had any pathetic illusions that anyone could understand him.
Even his parents, who loved him, never fully understood him.
So, when Draco showed up at the breakfast table, he tried to project the most lively attitude of an eleven-year-old boy, traits he could muster from his long memory.
Apparently, he succeeded, as Lucius and Narcissa continued to enjoy the breakfast served by the house-elves as usual, without noticing anything unusual about him.
During the meal, Draco couldn't help but secretly look at them, again and again.
They looked very young, much younger than he remembered.
There were no wrinkles on my father's face, nor did he look tired or haggard. He was wearing his favorite snake-print dress, and his platinum-blond hair was neatly combed, flowing and shining.
The mother is still beautiful and charming, with an elegant temperament in her every move. Her proud and unruly face only generously reveals a smile when facing her husband and son.
Draco became more and more certain of the authenticity of his memories of his past life, because Lucius and Narcissa were discussing the same manor affairs and Ministry of Magic secrets as they had in their memories.
"Cornelius Fudge actually applied for the Order of Merlin, First Class, and even awarded it to himself..." A trace of contempt appeared on Lucius's face.
"It seems he's obsessed with power and status." Narcissa took a sip of hot tea and said leisurely, "We love this kind of shiny Fudge the most, don't we? Vain and weak, short-sighted and easy to manipulate. I hope that in addition to power, he is also obsessed with money..."
Lucius gave his wife a slight nod of approval.
That's right, the parents are planning, just like in their previous life, how to get closer to this self-directed and self-rewarding Minister of Magic.
Draco could even boldly predict that when the house-elves respectfully served the last dessert to their masters, the topic would definitely turn to him.
"So..." Lucius slowly picked up the small silver spoon used for dessert, seemingly admiring the pudding. "Durmstrang or Hogwarts, which one should I choose?"
Draco didn't answer.
He recalled that he had once given a brusque answer, but his father had harshly ignored him.
Lucius scoffed at his answer, which lacked time to think, and called him a "reckless little fool" who didn't know how to think carefully.
Of course he didn't want to be ridiculed like this again.
Lucius was always strict with his son, in everything.
He always liked to criticize Draco with words when he was too proud of himself, so that he could return to a humble state. His starting point was good; but he didn't know what a devastating impact his negative attitude would have on his son - under the ruthless and poisonous suppression day after day, Draco turned into a sensitive boy with both arrogance and inferiority.
No one could say that Lucius didn't love his son. During the war, he finally revealed a rare tenderness in his father's nature, a fatherly love he had never shown in peacetime.
That kind of fatherly love, perhaps, can only be revealed in extreme circumstances, just like stars that can only shine in the dark night sky and are rarely seen in the daytime, Draco thought.
After all, his father probably didn't care about his son's pathetic and ridiculous self-esteem, Draco thought to himself as he took a sip of his tea.
In most of the bright daylight hours, Lucius gave what little tenderness he had left to Narcissa. Only towards his mother and father could he give some kind of emotion similar to "care".
In his previous life, Draco had never paid attention to this kind of "care." In his memory, his parents always enthusiastically discussed some intrigue, profit-seeking ideas, or extremely boring interpersonal relationships in front of him. In short, this had nothing to do with romance.
They rarely expressed their love for each other directly in front of him.
He had never even heard his father say "love" to his mother in front of him.
Therefore, in his previous life, he had thought that the sporadic intimacy between his parents was nothing more than a hypocritical combination of family interests.
What else do they have in common besides the idea of pure-blood supremacy?
Take their attitude towards him for example: his father was stern, cold and direct towards him, while his mother was gentle, warm and roundabout.
Their underlying personalities are completely different. Rather than being a sweet couple, they are more like cooperative allies.
This was how Draco had always understood it in his previous life.
It was not until the building was about to collapse that he realized that the relationship between his father and mother might not be as superficial as he understood.
The mother never gave up on the father, even when he was imprisoned. All social circles excluded her, the once noble "Black", because of the "stain" of her father. The autocratic father gave up his autocracy and chose to listen to the mother, showing unprecedented trust in her - he only believed in her.
Could there be "love" between them, besides interests? Draco wondered mysteriously, glancing at his parents from the corner of his eye.
"I want Draco to go to Hogwarts." Narcissa glanced up at her husband, a faint smile on her well-maintained face, and said the words from Draco's memory: "I think it wouldn't be a disadvantage for the son of the school director to enroll in Hogwarts, right?"
"Of course..." Lucius put down the spoon and leaned back comfortably in his chair, looking at his wife softly. "Of course, Draco will be treated very well at Hogwarts. But you also know Dumbledore's attitude towards certain magic. I am worried that our son will not get the best education..."
Narcissa frowned slightly at this. "But Durmstrang's campus isn't in England. Who knows where in the corner of Europe they're located? I seem to have heard it's too cold there..."
"I have some friendship with the headmaster there, Igor Karkaroff. Draco won't suffer any hardship if he goes there." Lucius said casually, stroking his snake-head cane.
Friendship—Death Eater friendship, Draco thought.
Karkaroff, a cowardly Death Eater, abandoned his duties as Headmaster and fled upon hearing that Voldemort had returned.
It's obvious that he won't amount to anything.
He's not even as good as Dumbledore, he muttered as he spooned some pudding.
Thinking of Dumbledore, Draco couldn't help but recall one of his greatest nightmares: the tragedy in the Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore had died like that... at the hands of Professor Snape's wand... It was absurd!
He still couldn't believe it, but he remembered the details so clearly that he couldn't even think about it for a moment, otherwise he might scream out involuntarily.
He couldn't help but sigh and quickly recited Gamp's basic laws of transfiguration, the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and the seven hundred fouls in Quidditch in his mind.
Is there any better way to distract yourself than by reciting knowledge? The girl in his memory said to him, her head held high. Yes, you are right, Granger, it does work, Draco thought.
Narcissa keenly caught her son's sigh.
"Little Dragon, dear, let me hear your thoughts. Which school do you prefer?" she asked gently. She thought that Draco's depression was caused by his parents' neglect.
What was certain was that his mother had always shown her love and care for him clearly—never as implicit as his father had been—Draco thought.
As for the issue of choosing a school, Draco had already finished weighing the pros and cons while eating his pudding.
Judging from his parents' usual behavior, the extra memories that popped up in his mind last night were most likely true.
Let's call it "previous life" for now. As for the present, it may be similar to "rebirth" - considering that he has been in that memory for so long, he feels so vicissitudes of life as if he has already lived a whole life and seen the end of life.
If everything that happened in his "previous life" was real, and there would be turmoil in the future, he had to consider the future.
There were still several years to plan and prepare. He had thought about leaving Britain far away, away from the bloodshed, perhaps to Durmstrang.
But Draco also clearly realized that although Durmstrang could avoid temporary disputes, it would become unsafe after the Dark Lord returned - didn't Karkaroff escape?
Hogwarts seemed to be full of dangers, but at least he had a few years of memory and he would learn lessons from his past failures.
He could guarantee that he would be more comfortable and in better control of the situation than he remembered.
Moreover, the Malfoy family's business roots are in England. They have stood on this land for centuries without falling. How could they rashly abandon the inheritance passed down by their ancestors?
The Malfoy family could give up many things, but the only thing they couldn't do was abandon their heritage. Escaping wasn't something he considered; it wasn't the best solution.
There is another reason.
That faint, beautiful remnant in his memory... that wish he could neither name nor ignore... that shattered hope that filled him with incomprehension and loss.
"Hogwarts. I want to be closer to my mother so I can go home for Christmas." He looked at Narcissa, trying to put on an innocent and cute smile, and successfully received his father's contemptuous look from the corner of his eye.
Lucius was frowning slightly. He was worried about his son's weak tendency to be homesick, or rather, he was worried that his son might disturb the world of two people with his wife.
Father, your unreasonable stern face no longer scares me.
I know you love me, even if it's just a little bit as small as a sesame seed. Draco thought calmly in his heart, but he tried to put on an innocent look on his face.
He added: "And Professor Snape will take care of me, right? He is the headmaster of Slytherin, the professor of Potions, and is very good at dark magic. I want him to teach me more..."
Lucius suddenly realized that he seemed to have no reason to refuse.
After dinner, Narcissa walked briskly out of the dining room, very satisfied with the final turn of the conversation. Draco guessed that she went to the study to reply to the letter confirming her admission to Hogwarts.
Lucius stood by the dining table, his face slightly cold, and said sternly to his 11-year-old son: "Don't always act like a spoiled child to your mother. It's too embarrassing. You are not a child anymore! Also, since you are studying at home, you should show some respect for me--"
He leaned over Draco, his tall frame looking imposing compared to Draco's short arms and legs. "A good Malfoy must continue the family's honor. Do well in school! If I don't hear that you're studying hard, don't even mention coming home for Christmas."
Draco met his father's gaze quietly, and finally said, "Okay, Father."
Lucius looked into his son's light grey eyes, which, unusually, contained no panic or fear, but rather a hint of joy.
This was puzzling. He cleared his throat sheepishly and said, "Tomorrow, your mother and I will take you to Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies. Think about what else you need and we can buy them together tomorrow." After that, he strode away, playing with his snake-head cane.
Draco was left alone, chuckling softly at the extra chocolate pudding before him. His father was still so awkward.
Draco remembered having a similar conversation with his father at this dining table.
What was your reaction at that time?
My father's threatening, cold words had me shattered. I cried in grievance and went to my mother for comfort. I felt my father was becoming increasingly unkind. I wondered if the father I admired hated me. I felt that only my mother loved me.
At that time, he was too young to see the expectations hidden behind his father's stern expression, and he also ignored the care behind the extra chocolate pudding.
If Draco wanted, he could have just waved his hand and had the house-elves bring him countless helpings. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. But Lucius was adamant about leaving his share for his son.
This kind of outrageous concern may be clearer in the eyes of adults; but for an ignorant little boy, it is too vague. Who can care about it?
After his parents left the table, Draco finally stopped pretending to be a child. He ate his second helping of pudding thoughtfully, just as Lucius had, slowly digesting the difficult decision he had made after rational thought: he would go to Hogwarts after all.
Hogwarts.
Draco's seven years at Hogwarts were not as wonderful as he had expected, especially since he had to face the arrogant Potter, the mocking Weasley, and the know-it-all Miss Granger every day.
Draco snorted, but his body shuddered involuntarily. Although several years had passed, the punch Granger had thrown at his face was still very memorable.
If she wasn't Potter's friend, if he hadn't been so awkward at the time, if he had shown this Muggle-born girl a little more respect...
After all, she is not stupid, she is even smart.
Lucius always compared her grades with Draco's, which made him ashamed and annoyed in his previous life - his father always said that he couldn't even test better than a Muggle-born girl.
As a child, Draco respected, feared and admired his father, and took everything his father said as the gospel.
He wanted to gain his father's full approval and be a Malfoy respected by his father, and he would give everything for it.
Therefore, the disappointment of being rejected by his father made him lose his mind, ignore some of his true feelings, and was busy deepening his disgust for the Potters.
Back then, he was used to being the center of the world. He loved the spotlight and craved the admiration and admiration of others. This is what every 11-year-old boy likes.
But Potter and his companions stole his light. Or rather, Potter's light was too bright, like the moon, making his once dazzling Draco Star seem a little dim.
This huge contrast made him, who claimed to be "the chosen one of heaven", furious and lost his mind. He took great pleasure in provoking these three people and tried to attack them from various dimensions.
He hadn't even figured out the reason for his anger before he started blindly competing with them.
Merlin, thinking back on the past seven years, it seemed like most of his energy had been spent on competing with them. When Draco recalled all this, he felt that he was ridiculous at that time.
Now, he no longer had the heart to do such ridiculous things. He had more important things to accomplish and real, formidable enemies to confront.
The Dark Lord, He Who Shall Not Be Named, that terrible enemy, had not yet returned, but somewhere he was stirring, and soon he would stir up trouble in the wizarding world.
The Malfoy family rules say that a person's greatest glory is not to have never failed, but to be able to make a comeback every time he fails.
If those memories meant a Waterloo for Draco Malfoy, then now was the best chance for him to fight back and make a comeback.
There is still time.
There's still time to get away from all that filth and dirt.
There was still time to preserve the honor of the Malfoy family.
There is still time to make a new choice. Seize the opportunity, seize the fleeting opportunity.
Those cruel Death Eaters and werewolves must never defile Malfoy Manor and intimidate his father and mother again, never!
How he acquired these memories and how he became an 11-year-old boy again, such vague things seemed no longer important to him.
What matters is here, now, and now.
In a previous life, Dumbledore had told him in the Astronomy Tower that he had a choice.
But, unfortunately, when he hesitated and wanted to try another way, Dumbledore was already unable to save himself and fell in the flashing green light of the Dark Mark.
He lost that crucial opportunity and had no choice.
From then on, more and more opportunities slipped away in his countless hesitations and disappeared between his fingers, until it was too late to regret.
But now, he has been "reborn." He is still safe and sound, and has a choice.
Was this a warning from Merlin? Or was it a chance for him to start over?
Draco didn't want much.
He didn't want to start any grand undertaking.
He was not so arrogant as to think that he could kill the Dark Lord with his bare hands just by being "reborn".
At the very least, we must contain the Dark Lord and prevent him from resurrecting. We must use the Slytherin way to trip him up and prevent him from becoming a force to be reckoned with.
After all, Draco Malfoy only wants to protect the Malfoy family and his own world.
Protect the people who are important to him.
The Malfoy family has gone through hundreds of years of ups and downs, and still stands stubbornly on the fields of Wiltshire, shining brightly and standing firm. This time, with the blessing of so many memories, why can't they fight for a chance to escape unscathed?
Tomorrow, he would meet Potter. The key figure necessary to resist the Dark Lord. The foolish Potter who had saved him at the critical moment.
The 11-year-old Potter, that poorly dressed little kid, is really something to look forward to...
"Harry Potter, let me get to know you again." Draco said softly.