Draco followed his parents into the cart, which sped through the maze-like winding passages for a while before stopping momentarily before the Lestrange family vault.
Lucius was not pleased about this.
He did not want his wife associated with prisoners serving time in Azkaban. To outsiders, that was a stain upon their reputation. Lucius had gone to great lengths to clear his family's name, and Narcissa's actions undoubtedly exposed his vulnerability.
However, Narcissa could not ignore her own blood relatives. This was the request made by her ailing father. She had to oversee everything for those in Azkaban, at least ensure Bellatrix and her cowardly husband did not perish there.
Fortunately, she always possessed a means of persuading her husband. When her son turned his head and asked the goblin, "Is that chained dragon a Ukrainian Ironbelly?" she gave Lucius a light kiss upon the cheek.
"I shall return shortly, Lucius," she said with a smile. This tactic worked, and Lucius's expression immediately softened.
He shook his head helplessly and watched Narcissa follow a goblin named Griphook into the vault.
Not long after, she emerged again carrying a small parcel.
Draco casually glanced through the gap in the doorway that was about to close. Although the vault within was not as opulent as the Malfoys', it was not much inferior: from floor to ceiling it was filled with gold coins, golden goblets, silver armor, the pelts of various exotic creatures with spines or wings, potions in phials, and skulls crowned with jewels...
The Lestranges were wealthy, after all. His aunt Bellatrix, holding the key to the vault, could easily have been a wealthy woman, but Draco curled his lips in disdain. What a shame she had such appalling taste that not only did she dress like a lunatic, she also followed one.
She was also mad. And cruel. Draco shared Lucius's view. He also did not want his mother to maintain contact with Bellatrix any longer. It was too dangerous.
Bellatrix was undoubtedly gifted. Unlike his mother, she was a master of the Dark Arts and an expert in Occlumency, having even taught Draco at Narcissa's request.
But she was also a lunatic who betrayed her own. For a fleeting word of praise from the Dark Lord, she would sacrifice everything without mercy. She would even kill her cousin Sirius Black without hesitation, without a trace of remorse.
Having opposing positions did not mean having no moral boundaries.
All wizards held a fundamental understanding: wizard bloodline was a gift from Merlin and was extraordinarily precious.
For aristocratic families that valued inheritance, exile from the family was already the most severe punishment. For those families with sparse populations, even if there was a blood traitor or conflicting ideologies, they could not kill one another, much less eliminate all members.
But Bellatrix could cross that boundary and kill without any psychological burden.
She murdered those who shared her blood without hesitation, and she even laughed about it.
Absolutely cold-blooded and absolutely ruthless.
She had also tortured Granger.
Merlin, that experience had been so horrific that even though he had merely witnessed it, he had nearly suffocated.
That was probably one of the most terrifying nightmares on his list, tied for first place with the dreadful scene of Dumbledore's death.
He could not wait to obtain his wand.
The first task after acquiring it would be to perform Occlumency upon himself, sealing away all these suffocating and horrifying memories so he would never dwell upon them again.
__________
When the Malfoys emerged from the snow-white building that towered over the surrounding shops, the street was already brighter with sunlight.
The goblin guards in scarlet and gold-trimmed uniforms bowed to them and escorted Gringotts' important clients away.
In Diagon Alley, the number of wizards coming and going gradually increased, flowing continuously along the narrow cobblestone street.
With the start of term approaching, young wizards from nearly all over Britain came here to purchase school supplies, which made it difficult to maintain distance from others when walking—one risked colliding with someone at every turn.
The Malfoys did not particularly enjoy this level of commotion. They paused on the steps of Gringotts, none of them eager to immediately enter such a bustling crowd.
"These people have made Diagon Alley as congested as a pigsty," Lucius remarked impatiently, narrowing his eyes.
"It will be faster if we separate," Narcissa decided swiftly.
"Very well, I shall go to Flourish and Blotts to purchase books," Lucius stated simply, twirling his serpent-head cane.
"Is it not ladies first? Do I not have a choice?" Narcissa glanced at her husband haughtily with her blue eyes, her tone mildly provocative.
"A proper gentleman would not permit his wife to walk about the streets carrying a stack of heavy books. Cissy, why do you not go to Ollivanders and attend to Draco's wand? Or perhaps see if there are any new witch's robes," Lucius regarded Narcissa, and a hint of imperceptible tenderness flashed in his proud grey eyes.
"Lucius, you are shopping for Draco today," Narcissa pinched Lucius's arm in a teasing tone. "I am going to Ollivander's to obtain the finest wand available. Draco, why do you not go to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and order some custom wizard robes, then meet me there?"
"I have no objection," Draco said calmly.
Why had he not noticed these details in his previous life—their ubiquitous small gestures?
In this life, when he was observing everything, he discovered that his parents had been subtly displaying their affection before him all along.
Draco Malfoy in his previous life had been an oblivious and foolish son who lived in his own world.
Before long, Draco stood upon a footstool in Madam Malkin's robe shop, having his measurements taken with pins by a young witch.
His attention was not on the robes, because through the shop window, he could vaguely see Potter and the gamekeeper named Hagrid walking toward the establishment.
There was no mistaking the enormous, bear-like figure of the gamekeeper, whose wild, rough, bearded face and beetle-black eyes made him impossible not to notice in a crowd.
Before Potter arrived, Draco set aside his usual arrogance and gently asked Madam Malkin, "Madam, I would like to inquire whether you sell Invisibility Cloaks?"
"Child, why are you asking this? This is not a question a young boy should ask..." Madam Malkin was a short, plump witch dressed in mauve, who smiled sweetly at customers.
But if one assumed she was easy to manipulate, one would be foolish. Draco knew perfectly well that the seemingly gentle Madam Malkin was quite astute and understood boundaries. She would not easily sell such high-end, expensive magical fabric to a boy who was merely about to begin school.
At this moment, she even regarded Draco with suspicion because he had made such an age-inappropriate request.
But a true Malfoy always knew how to employ charm and persuasion to achieve his objectives.
"I am inquiring on behalf of my mother. You understand, she is occupied purchasing other items for me and does not have time to visit," he adopted an innocent smile and appeared earnest.
Madam Malkin believed his explanation. She resumed her genuine smile and told him, "In that case, my dear boy, I shall give you my card and catalogue. Madam Malfoy may place an owl order at any time, simply attach her signature. We are capable of providing the finest magical attire for wizarding families."
By the time Potter pushed open the door, the card and catalogue were already tucked quietly in Draco's dragonhide money pouch. This expandable pouch, only palm-sized externally but with an internal space of dozens of cubic feet, was quite popular among wizards because it was light to carry.
Invisibility Cloaks were items wizards coveted even more. They were not inexpensive and were also exceptionally rare. Draco still recalled that in his first year in his previous life, he had lost fifty points from Slytherin for wandering about the school at night.
With such an item, if one wished to accomplish something covertly at Hogwarts, it would be far more discreet. Draco vaguely remembered that Potter possessed an Invisibility Cloak, and he would wager his hair that Potter must have used it extensively.
While Draco was lost in thought, Madam Malkin had already instructed Harry Potter to stand upon another footstool beside him and begun measuring his frame.
Draco resolved to appear as amiable as possible. If he wished to align himself with Potter, he could not ruin things from the start.