Wild child

Draco Malfoy, 68, unwrapped the overwhelmed owl from its lap and stuffed a few Sickles into the pouch on its lap.The price of goods in the wizarding world has always been stable, and these few silver coins are obviously a huge sum of money for it, so although exhausted, the little guy left in a good mood.

Usually when receiving newspapers or letters, he would pay no attention to the owl delivering the letter.Today, however, he was particularly leisurely. He looked up and watched it glide through the half-opened window with its flat wings in the bright morning light, and quickly disappeared into a small black spot.

The slender and smooth hands carefully unwrapped the outer layer of parchment. The years are kind. Although they have long lost the agility and strength of their youth, they have not revealed the wrinkles and spots of old age.

Inside the package was a three-inch thick book.

On the cover, the vast wilderness in late autumn meets the high blue sky, and at the end of the world there is a distant silhouette that cannot tell the age.She sat in his familiar leisurely sitting posture with one leg bent and the other flat, her head raised to welcome the cold wind without fear, her short metallic hair fluttering lightly, and the distant shadow of an eagle was connected to her sight in the distance.

It was a painting, and he was not surprised.She never likes to take pictures, not to mention that there are really few people who can accompany her in the places she goes.The painting is a frozen moment, and whoever the Muggle author is must know her very well.

Move your eyes up, and there are two lines of gilded characters on the brown background at the top of the screen. The first line is larger - Falco, and the second line is slightly smaller - thestoryofFannySanchez.

The author's signature is Rita Skeeter, and Rose Weasley.

On the title page are the portraits of the two authors printed side by side. They seem to be so disliked that they don't even bother to appear in the same photo.

Skeeter, who is over eighty years old, still wears exaggerated curly hair and glasses with fake gemstones when she is on camera-she probably regards this as a personal label and doesn't bother to replace those gemstones with real ones, smile Big enough to see every tooth, not caring how much it accentuated the lines on her face.

Rose Weasley has capable short red hair, and her kind smile cannot hide the rigor and strength on that face.This backbone of the press, who is known for being outspoken and bold, and even the Minister of Magic avoids three points, does not know whether her personality is inherited from her mother who was the former director of the Department of Law Enforcement or her godmother.

By the time the Weasley girls debuted, Skeeter had stopped making harsh comments on the headlines of newspapers and magazines. Two generations of legends in the journalism industry, two people who seemed unlikely to have any intersection other than their professions, actually co-wrote the same book .

Just like her style, her stories will never be without unbelievable combinations.

Draco Malfoy had two beloved women in his life, one was unforgettable when he was young, and the other was fond of each other for a long time.

The latter was quietly brewing coffee for him a few steps away, without asking why he didn't just cast a spell to make the extra packaging disappear.

And the former, five years ago, finally ended his ups and downs in this world, and completely and forever calmed down.

The preface is short, and the text follows on the next page.The ink marks are neatly arranged on the smooth paper, leading Draco into her story.

Astoria gently placed the freshly ground coffee by his hand, cast a warming spell, and left quietly.

The sunlight coming in from the window gradually shifted, and those words began to make some waves in Draco's peaceful heart, like the tip of a passing wing lightly touching the surface of the lake.He reads familiar chapters, both as a reader and as part of it.

At the age of 11, their clichéd unpleasant first encounter more than half a century ago.Dressed in Muggle attire, she asked them where the platform was, only to be thrown flatly on all fours by his father.

He didn't intend to pay attention to a Muggle-born, but within two days her reputation spread far to Slytherin, and it was obviously not a good reputation: unclean, rude words, violent behavior... Freshmen stayed away from her Yes, it's not ridicule or contempt, she really has the ability to make herself out of place in a place like Gryffindor.

It's not surprising when you think about it, it's rumored in the grades that she grew up in an orphanage, which is where Muggles take unwanted scum.She is considered scum among Muggles, so what can she expect?It's time for Hogwarts to raise its admissions standards so that they don't accept everything.

The provocation under the tree was just on the spur of the moment. He had just given Potter a favour, and when he had nothing to do, he wanted to do something to keep his good mood going.She was as mean and uneducated as rumored, and it made Draco want to clean this scum out of Hogwarts.As soon as he thought about it, he came up with an idea that he thought was very good, let that limping Squib chase a Gryffindor in the middle of the night, it must be a good scene.

Dueling in the prize room at midnight, Pansy looked at him with a stunned expression when he said this.He didn't mind at all, when this Mudblood returned home, he would be able to wash away his notoriety of "challenging a Mudblood", and even many people would look at him with admiration.

"Of course it's not that I don't dare. Even if Dumbledore comes, I won't be afraid. But you can't. If I go, I will definitely wait for Filch or Snape."

She didn't mean to be provoked at all, she almost choked him.Those dark eyes can make any cover-up feel like a three-year-old trying to hide an elephant to the person being watched.

Draco was cornered in a few sentences, and the consequences were disastrous: he slyly exchanged wands with her, as a promise to keep his midnight appointment.If the expressions of the three attendants were stunned just now, it would be nothing compared to now.The only consolation was the guilty look on her face after he offered to swap wands, she didn't look as confident as she appeared to be.

Returning to the castle to find that Potter had gotten away with it hadn't had a positive effect on Draco's mood.So he initiated the second duel of the day.

"I'm his assistant, who is your assistant?" Weasley took up the challenge for Potter without hesitation, a mindless idiot.

"How about midnight? We'll meet you in the trophy room, where the doors are never locked."

This is the reaction Gryffindor should have, and if they easily believed him, Draco would not consider those two guys as opponents and consider going on the date.

Then he remembered the obligatory appointment, which obviously spoiled the little good mood he had formed.

Luckily he wasn't driven completely out of his mind, and before offering to swap wands, he whispered a spell.Every ancient pure-blood family had its own way of identifying a Mudblood, and she showed no special markings that only spellcasters could see.

Draco Malfoy would never think highly of a Mudblood.

It turned out that even if she was a pure-blood, she was not qualified to be his opponent: she only had one spell - Yuja Diem Leviosa, and it was obviously prepared improvised, and she couldn't hang a piece of chalk.

If it weren't for the damn chandelier, he's sure he'd have her frozen in the classroom in no time, waiting for the next day's class to watch.But the loud noise attracted Filch, and they found that they had to stop the confrontation and run for their lives with each other.And yeah, she's a crazy person who can jump off the fifth floor, and even convinces him at one point that it's not that crazy.

Draco's first thought when he was caught was that this was sure to be a permanent laughing stock for her, and he was right, it just wasn't as bad as he'd first thought.

Maybe he underestimated the Squib, Filch was really fast.

That armor was unremarkable, and Draco passed by it several times before and after class, never thinking that there would be any secrets inside.They were huddled together so tightly that it was hard to tell which of the hot, sweaty touch, the smell inside the armor, or the thought of being saved by her twice in one night repelled Draco more.But Filch's heavy footsteps passed in front of them and went straight down the steps, and the crisis was resolved.She jumped out gracefully and sat down against the wall.

"Let's not talk about the place you chose, don't you even think about running for your life?"

The tone was casual and excited, she completely regarded what happened just now as an interesting adventure, and she didn't seem to realize that she was almost fired.

If Draco had been annoyed before, it was nothing compared to now.She didn't say a word, but she made it clear that she didn't take Draco Malfoy seriously at all, even if she had been cornered by him just now.

He is very poor in popularity, his grades in all subjects fly low, he has no background at all, his looks are not outstanding, and he can't even fly - he can barely ride a broom until the third class, and he can't move.

What is she proud of?

And so Draco discovered for the first time in his life that a person could be special without having any of the qualities on his mental "notable list".

First of all, she doesn't seem to be afraid of anything.

The size of Crabbe and Goyle was there, and no matter who was provoked, she lost a lot of momentum, but she directly ignored them and retorted.What's even more imaginative is that she actually dozed off in Potions class, and would wake up every time when the potion was about to explode or overflow, and she didn't dodge it.

"Tell me what's in your pot, Sanchez."

"I'm sorry, sir. What I wanted was cough drops, but I really couldn't have predicted how it would work after my mistake."

This is the second point, she is cunning.

Unlike Potter's blatant stupidity and Longbottom's submissiveness, she looked at Snape neither humble nor condescending amidst the Slytherins' sneers, and she was impeccably polite no matter what sarcasm the other party said.It reminded Draco of her flawless and cute smile when they first met, and it almost made him think that he was in front of a poor wretch.

Also, in a way, she wasn't weak.

During the Gryffindor v Hufflepuff match in the second term, Weasley couldn't help his taunt, and a small scuffle broke out in the audience.Ten seconds later, the two boys, one with blue eyes and the other with nosebleeds, stared dumbfounded at her pulling and tripping, causing Crabbe to fall headlong to the bottom of the two rows of seats, and then kicked Goyle into a shrimp clutching his belly. .

After winning, she showed a smug smile amid Gryffindor's cheers, and made exaggerated curtain calls around her.She was too vain, which made Draco unhappy, so he took a chance to intercept her alone and proposed a second duel, with an emphasis on no contact.

Without a third person watching, she can completely refuse.But she exchanged wands with him again.

The result—a draw, or so she insisted.

At the same time as the wand was knocked away, she picked up a chair unexpectedly and knocked the wand out of his hand.

"I don't have physical contact, and you haven't subdued me." She has good reasons

So, for various reasons, there was the third, fourth, fifth time... Sometimes it was him who initiated it, sometimes it was her.Because of Filch's existence and her usual style of being able to hide but not fight, the two of them seldom could really tell the winner, but their escape skills became more and more proficient.

She seems to be familiar with every portrait in the castle, and she knows the mechanism and secret passages as well as her own palm prints, and she can even persuade Peeves to help her with "I will teach you to pour chalk dust on Meg's head". Busy—it can be said that she is a loner and has the entire Hogwarts castle as friends.

She couldn't cast a decent alahoo opening spell, but she could open all the doors with a wire.

She can tell anything absurd without blinking an eye, and it's never easy to tell the truth from what she says.

she……

None of this had much to do with magic, but Draco always felt that her whole being was constructed of some kind of mysterious magic.

He couldn't figure it out, since she could get weird stories and information from the outstanding wizards in the castle who had been hanging around for hundreds of years, each with their own abnormal temper, how much effort would it take to make people around her like her?

In a bout that wasn't much of a surprise, Draco knocked her wand away, but couldn't corner her no matter what, and was confused by the clutter she threw at her.Depressed, he mocked her for being nothing more than a lowly Muggle.

"Why don't you say I'm a bad witch, and it's nice to be on par with Muggles?" She shrugged nonchalantly.

Draco was speechless.

Mutual taunting was part of every meeting they met, and Draco had never won it.It's not that he's bad-mouthed, it's that he's always the one to get irritated first.Later he thought that not being easy to get angry might have something to do with self-cultivation or temper, she just didn't care.

Later, there is no need for a reason to make an appointment, and it is completely clear when they look at each other.Draco was more and more often holding a wand that didn't belong to him among his equally arrogant fellows, trying to control the anxiety in his heart and the curvature of his mouth.

At 12, the Heir of Slytherin returned.

The Mudbloods disappeared one by one, and everyone was happy.

Of course, not everyone thought so, at least she was looking for relevant clues everywhere with great interest, trying to find out who was behind the scenes, and even rejected his provocation for this reason.

"You'd better watch out, Sanchez. Or you'll be next."

"Are you the heir of Slytherin?" She was unusually serious, and his complete shadow was rarely reflected in her dark eyes.

"No."

"Great."

The tone was so natural that Draco froze in place, as if he couldn't understand the meaning of the simplest three words.But forget it, since she's not a Mudblood, it shouldn't matter to her.The flash of this idea seemed to be equally natural at first, and Draco was a step late to realize that it ran counter to what he should have thought.

Then he realized something else: she believed him.

"I don't care about it, Malfoy. As long as it's going on, it'll be my turn soon. I'm not as safe as you blowing, remember? I'm a 'mud, bum, bastard.' ’ she said calmly, turning to leave.

you are not!

This sentence stopped on the tip of his tongue, he knew she didn't care about it, and nothing he said would change what she was going to do next.Or maybe he just didn't want her to know that he cared.

Later, Porter saved the school again, but his father was dismissed by the board of directors.Looking coldly at the cheers of the Gryffindors across the auditorium, Draco's second year of school ended unsatisfactorily.

Strangely though, he wasn't overly angry about it, and it had little to do with the failure of the Heir of Slytherin whom he had never met.

At 13, at the start of the school year, most people were terrified on the train.

Draco had already heard about the dementors guarding Hogwarts, so he didn't panic when his vision suddenly went dark.It's just that this couldn't avoid the influence of the dementors, the air seemed to be frozen, and he felt his trembling and the cold sweat on his palms as he sat stiffly on the seat.

The feeling of drowning finally passed, and as soon as he took a deep breath, Draco heard her scream from the next car.Afterwards he was amazed at how he charged in the direction of the dementor.The moment the light was turned on again, he saw her pale and frozen face, like someone dying of panic, and blurted out her name.

She regained her composure and asked him, what are you doing here.

"It sounded like you were screaming, Sanchez."

According to past experience, a guy who likes to be pushy will fight back angrily when he is exposed, and only a little guidance can make him forget the previous topic.But those dark brown eyes looked at him with clarity, like a repeat of the situation in the first grade.

Then she shrugged habitually: "Well, I was really scared."

Such a frank show of weakness completely lost the meaning of the act of "showing weakness". She confessed her weakness just now in front of a car full of people, but Draco had no sense of victory at all.

There was another class with Gryffindor, protecting magical creatures, and Draco felt a little sorry when he found that she was not in the opposite team.

Soon he was thankful that she wasn't there.

I got a paw in the first class, and was humiliated by yelling in front of the whole class.With the help of his father, it was logical that the Hippogriff be beheaded.

Draco couldn't understand why she had no problem with him framing the Gryffindor team by pretending to be a dementor, but kept picking on him with that brute, even ignoring him for venturing out to find her in the Forbidden Forest thing.

"Have you ever actually looked at that hippogriff you tried so hard to kill, and imagined its head cut off?" she asked. "Have you ever seen a dead man? Have you ever really come close Go through those Muggles you claim to be exterminated, and see if they are dirty and lowly symbols in your mouth?"

"What does this have to do with Muggles?" He didn't want to admit that he didn't, didn't feel that a legitimate wizard should stoop to know that.

"Because you're a self-righteous fool!"

The cold war between the two for more than half a year began.Instead of sneaking out of the common room in the middle of the night and being chased all over the castle by Filch, and practicing spells over and over for it, Draco's schedule became somewhat empty.Occasionally, when no one was watching, Draco would twirl his wand between his fingers like she did when she was bored.The monotonous tapping sound of the tip of the staff and the table reminded him that it wasn't just the timetable that was empty.

The next time I was alone was Christmas when I was 14 years old. In the lonely corridor, the hustle and bustle of the dance party in the distance has not yet dissipated.

He was still thinking about why he left his dance partner to follow her when she ran out with her head down, but she was already approaching.The short light gray hair has a metallic luster, and the cool-toned makeup outlines the delicate eyebrows and eyes, making the dark pupils clearer and more intense.

Not dodging or avoiding, without the slightest affectation and shyness.

It will take many years for him to understand that there is only one person in this world who can look at him like this.

"Say, why do we always have to fight?" she asked.

"You hate me." Draco wished he had a smarter answer.

"I said no?"

"why?"

"You could hurt me. Would you?"

The distance between the two was only an inch, and each other's breath could be felt on their faces.

Draco looked into those eyes from a very close distance, and there was a whole world behind the dark irises.He longs to enter, possess, and even sink into it.

"No," he said.

She kissed him, and their fingers interlocked after what seemed like a century.

The clenched hand was completely different from his, warm and rough, with a hard scar on the edge of the palm, and light-colored scars on the palm and back.In the short period of time that followed, he looked at it countless times and vowed never to let the traces on it increase.

Christmas in the fourth grade and the entire fifth grade were the best years of Draco's life.