Pansy idly played with Draco's slightly curled pale-gold hair, wishing time would slow down just a little.
Maybe it was simply because she had grown up, or maybe it was because of Hermione's presence that Pansy felt a new kind of nervousness.
Either way, she had noticed it herself: ever since entering Hogwarts, her attitude toward Draco had changed.
She wanted to be closer to him, wanted his attention fixed only on her, and sometimes even showed him a more vulnerable side.
Pansy knew exactly what those feelings were—and they were nothing like a sister's possessiveness over a brother.
That was why, after coming to terms with her own emotions, she had so naturally offered him her lap as a pillow.
After all, such a gesture was nowhere to be found in the Parkinsons' aristocratic education...
Still, compared to how quickly girls matured, most boys seemed slow to notice such things. Even Draco—despite acting like a little adult—was no different.
His maturity showed in his dealings with people and in his grasp of magical knowledge, but not in matters of the heart.
So while it annoyed Pansy that Draco still treated her like a sister, she was confident enough to want to be the one pursued. Even though her signals had been clear, she hadn't confessed outright. Instead, she waited, hoping Draco would "wake up" soon.
But things weren't going as smoothly as she had hoped. Being his childhood friend only made it harder for Draco to recognize the shift in her feelings.
And so, Draco simply overlooked the fact that Pansy's fondness for him had already turned into something more.
Not to mention, with everything that had happened recently, Draco had no space in his mind for romance.
Although, he couldn't deny that the memory of her lap pillow had left him with an unfamiliar, lingering feeling...
...
The amount of magical power a wizard possessed determined their potential and their future.
The advantages of abundant magic were obvious: not only did it grant greater endurance, it also amplified spell power, which could be the decisive edge in a duel.
If magical reserves set a wizard's ceiling, then the ability to control that power was the key to raising their floor closer to that ceiling.
In simpler terms, it was all about efficiency of use.
As Draco himself had said, after ceasing his method of exhausting magic to force growth, he had entered the stage of learning how to control it.
This step was far more difficult than enduring pain.
Now, Draco had to transform the sudden surge of power into something truly his own.
Boom!
The torrent of magic shattered the target in front of him. The display was impressive, but Draco felt no satisfaction.
"The power's stronger, but it's lost the smoothness it had before..."
He frowned, shaking the arm that held his wand. The raw, wasteful surge of magic felt awkward. Though he had far more energy than before, it carried a wild edge, difficult to control.
Draco, who prized precision and perfection, hated this rough casting. It made him feel like a clumsy beast.
Yet, to Goyle and Crabbe—watching nearby with eyes shining—Draco's display was exhilarating. They loved this kind of brute force.
Their excited shouts, however, only earned Pansy's sharp glare as she rapped her wand impatiently against her hand.
"Focus! If you don't give me results, then forget about dinner—eat at home!"
"No way! Boss lady!"
"We'll keep going!"
Neither of them wanted to miss Mrs. Malfoy's pumpkin pie and fresh-baked cookies. Draco sometimes wondered if that was the real reason Goyle in particular adored pumpkin pie so much.
In any case, Pansy had been irritable all day. Since morning, she had been in a foul mood, her eyes flashing dangerously like a little tigress ready to bite.
Well... if Goyle and Crabbe had known that only Draco and Pansy had been using the training room together a few days ago, they might have understood her mood a little better.
Sensing the weight of her displeasure, both boys quickly picked up their wands again, continuing with the drills Draco had set.
The truth was, whatever their personal potential, compared to Draco's other followers, Goyle and Crabbe's unimpressive family backgrounds would inevitably limit their future.
Especially when compared to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, their families had no standing at all. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been placed under the Malfoys' wing as Draco's attendants from childhood...
Of course, Goyle and Crabbe had no idea what Draco's training truly meant, nor the kind of strength it could bring them in the future.
What set the Sacred Twenty-Eight apart, keeping them entrenched at the top of wizarding society, was their inherited legacies.
Some were spells—like Snape's own creation, Sectumsempra. Dark magic, yes, but devastatingly effective in combat.
Some were refinements in spellcasting itself—like Grindelwald's modified Shield Charm, which allowed him to weave through the attacks of many wizards with ease.
Such traditions created the gap between ordinary wizards and the elite, determining whether a family could remain powerful.
The Malfoys, for example, possessed unique techniques in magical control. The Parkinsons specialized in explosive bursts of power. These were secrets never shared with outsiders.
That was why Goyle and Crabbe were here now—because Draco wanted to pass some of that knowledge to them.
It had to be said, in doing so, Draco was breaking a taboo.
But perhaps... that was the measure of his generosity.
...
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