Saturday was Hogsmeade village's open day for Hogwarts students, and a hooded figure appeared at Honeydukes sweetshop.
Like a drop of ink falling into an inkwell, his clothes were unremarkable, completely unlike the ostentatious demeanour he usually displayed in Slytherin.
Today was not a particularly auspicious day.
He remained silent, following the Weasley twins away from the main road and into a dilapidated house covered in flyers, right next to the Gladrags Wizardwear shop.
The house was not big. It was just a two-storey house with an attic and a basement. The thick, dirty curtains hummed, one corner of which had been abandoned by the track hook and dangled by the window, looking like it was about to fall off.
In the sliver of sunlight seeping through the window cracks, dust motes danced unnaturally on the first-floor shelves, causing Draco, hidden under his hood, to cough frequently.
"I did not expect the people who came to see the house to be so young..." Mrs Mason, the homeowner, was somewhat surprised.
She was a withered, silver-haired witch wearing a strangely shaped hat. After glancing at the three boys in front of her—clearly still students—a dismissive expression appeared on her face.
But since things had come to this point, although she was somewhat perfunctory, she still led the three of them upstairs to the reception room with a "nothing to lose" attitude.
"So, who should I talk to about the rent?" she asked directly, not wanting to waste any more time.
The carpet in this living room was a veritable den of grime. Every time Draco stepped on it, a small cloud of pungent dust would rise up, making the usually fastidious Draco feel extremely uncomfortable.
"Me." Because of the dust, Draco decided to abandon the pretence.
Mrs Mason was slightly surprised. She had not expected that the one who spoke up to negotiate with her would be the youngest of the three.
From the moment she met them, her gaze was fixed on the twins, trying to assess them. She could see a certain cheerful nature and a mischievous streak in them. She could see that their eyes, though cunning, were not truly shrewd. They lacked social experience. If given a little something to sweeten their day and gain their approval, they would hand over all their money.
There is nothing to fear! I would be confident in answering any question posed by any of them.
To her surprise, the person in charge was the little boy behind them? She had not even had a chance to look at him properly!
"I heard that Mrs Mason wants to move overseas. Are you interested in selling your property in England?" The boy in front of her ignored her disdain for his age and her indifference towards him, and asked the question directly.
This question caught Mrs Mason completely off guard. She had only intended to try and rent out the house, and had prepared a whole host of landlord's usual sales pitches to try and secure a higher rental income. The boy across from her suddenly bringing up the sale of the house surprised and delighted her.
For her, the house was a bad asset, and she had long since given up hope of selling it.
Who would be mad enough to buy this kind of house?
Unexpectedly, I actually ran into this mad person today!
Mrs Mason was secretly pleased. Her cloudy eyes flashed, and she said in an affected tone, "If the price is right, it is not something we cannot consider."
"What is your price range for this house?" Draco sat on the dusty sofa, looking directly into Mrs Mason's eyes across from him.
"Oh, my dear, at market price, it would cost at least ten thousand Galleons…" Mrs Mason glanced at Draco's plain clothes and his tightly covered hood, and muttered to herself.
Could this little boy afford it? I had not planned on dealing with a child like that.
When she received the letter inviting her to view the house, she assumed the sender was an adult wizard. The wording was sophisticated, and the paper was of high quality; she thought it belonged to the head of a well-established wizarding family.
Upon seeing the child today, she was greatly disappointed. The child looked utterly unremarkable. Mrs Mason was growing impatient. She quoted an inflated price, hoping to scare the child away with that amount and hastily end this ridiculous and doomed meeting.
However, she did not find the frightened expression she expected on the boy's face. It seemed he could really produce such a large sum of Galleons with a wave of his hand.
"The price is reasonable," the boy said, glancing at her discreetly, his words sharp, "if you do not take into account the house's peculiar location and the suspicion that it is haunted."
"What makes you say that?" Although Mrs Mason knew perfectly well what was going on, she still feigned surprise and tried to evade the question.
Perhaps the boy is just bluffing.
"The house's location is obviously unfavourable. It is not on the main street of Hogsmeade, which would limit our customer flow if we wanted to do business," Draco said casually. "Besides, it is not far from the Shrieking Shack. As everyone knows, the Shrieking Shack is not a symbol of good luck, nor does it have the ability to bring wealth."
Mrs Mason's face darkened. The boy in front of her was quite difficult, and he actually managed to articulate the disadvantages of her house in great detail.
This was not the level of a normal little boy. She took another look at his plain clothes and suddenly caught a glimpse of his leather shoes through the gap in the wooden coffee table.
In an instant, a flash of inspiration struck her. She had seen that style on Savile Row in London. Her niece's fiancé—a nouveau riche from America—had once ordered a similar pair of shoes there during a visit to her, and they cost a fortune.
Mrs Mason knew she had met a connoisseur. She dared not try to fool him again. He was probably a young master from a wealthy wizarding family, disguised and acquiring his own property, rather than the troublesome scoundrel she had imagined.
"You see, the ghost story is just a rumour..." she chuckled dryly, trying to downplay the issue.
She suddenly decided to give it a try and see if she could close the deal. A rich, wilful young master with a sudden whim probably was not as shrewd as an adult wizard.
Otherwise, why would he be interested in this dilapidated house?
"...Besides, the price is not high; it is much more affordable than similar houses in the area." The lady smiled honestly—which caused her thick make-up to flake off. She was trying her best to project an image of "my price is very reasonable."
But how could Malfoy, who had been instilled with business acumen by his parents at the dinner table since childhood, miss the cunning glint in her eyes?
"Rumours are not always baseless. After all, your house has been abandoned for a long time, and I am curious why no one rents here any more…" Draco said with a fake smile, mercilessly revealing her secrets.
Mrs Mason's smile vanished instantly. He pointed out the fatal flaw—due to its terrible location and the eerie rumours surrounding the Shrieking Shack, the house had been vacant for years, and she could not even rent it out, let alone sell it.
"As far as I know, this house has been listed on the secondhand market for a long time," the boy asked. "Putting everything else aside, how many people have inquired about the price in the past year?"
"One," Mrs Mason thought, her face turning ashen. "He has been the only buyer to show interest in this place in the past year."
She realised she could not underestimate this boy at all: "What is your price range?"
"Very well, she is losing her temper." Draco thought, giving her a confident smile—Mrs Mason suddenly shivered.
After a heated debate and haggling, Draco bought the house for freehold ownership for five thousand Galleons.
This price was nothing to Draco, a young master who had no shortage of Galleons. Even if he bought it at the original price given by Mason, he could still afford it.
Having money does not mean you have to squander it or waste it, nor does it mean you have to be a sucker.
Wealthy people tended to be more meticulous and calculating when it came to their assets.