Pansy Parkinson.
"So?" Marius said lazily, "Perhaps I should ask Mr. Malfoy directly—does his son's insult toward the Greengrass family also reflect the official stance of the Malfoy household?"
"You…!"
Draco's face turned bright red. He did know that his father, Lucius Malfoy, was on good terms with the Greengrasses. If Lucius heard what he had just said… another scolding was inevitable.
In the end, Draco had no clever comeback. Gritting his teeth, he stalked off with his two ever-present sidekicks in tow. After all, he knew full well that the Cloud family matched the Malfoys in both power and wealth—not the kind of people you could bully on a whim.
"Ugh, finally! That annoying Malfoy is gone~"
Astoria Greengrass stuck out her tongue behind Draco's back and looked up with a grin. "Thanks for getting rid of him, Marius!"
Marius ruffled the little girl's head affectionately. As a time-traveling adult trapped in a child's body, he had no shortage of ways to handle a brat like Draco Malfoy. Back when they were younger, Draco used to look down on Marius for his supposed lack of magical talent. But after suffering a few of Marius's "lessons," the blond heir had learned to steer clear.
"Oh please," came a voice from behind him, "I don't really see what you gain by provoking Draco."
Marius turned and saw Pansy Parkinson watching him with a faint frown.
"When did I ever provoke him?" Marius asked. "Did you not see him coming at me first?"
"Even so," Pansy murmured, "Draco's an heir to a pure-blood family, same as you. Keeping a good relationship with him could be… useful. I'm only saying this because I care. We're all going to Hogwarts this year—maybe it's time to act a little more mature?"
Marius knew Pansy meant well, even if her Slytherin nature made her advice feel a little… calculated. Still, what intrigued him was that she never sided with Draco.
Strange, he thought. In the original books, Pansy was practically glued to Draco for seven years straight.
What Marius didn't realize was that in the eyes of a girl raised in the values of Slytherin—where ambition and talent were prized above all—a mature, composed boy like Marius Cloud was simply far more appealing.
"Hey, I saw Draco storming off just now—bet it was because of you again!"
A cheerful voice cut in as a young boy bounded over. "Also, I have to say—your gift was amazing!"
"Want to take a closer look, Theodore?" Marius grinned. "Go ahead—but just look, not ride. I'd rather not read about your tragic broom-related death in tomorrow's Daily Prophet."
Theodore Nott huffed. "I wouldn't crash! And you haven't ridden a broom either, have you? We're both starting at Hogwarts this year—just wait, I'll master it faster than you. Even Professor Slughorn said I had talent!"
He gestured toward a rotund man chatting with Elara Cloud across the hall—Horace Slughorn, the famed Potions Master whose family was well-regarded among pure-blood circles. Being invited to the Cloud estate today was proof enough of that.
Noticing the children looking his way, Slughorn excused himself and approached, beaming.
"Ah, so young Master Nott is bragging about me again? And of course, Mr. Cloud," he said, nodding to Marius, "I hope I'm not interrupting your conversation with these fine ladies."
Marius gave a polite nod in return. But Slughorn, now closer, let out a curious little hmm.
"So you're the young Marius Cloud?"
Marius frowned. "Unless there's an imposter running around with my name—yes."
"How peculiar… Very peculiar indeed."
Slughorn muttered under his breath, clearly troubled by something. Whatever it was, he wasn't sharing.
In truth, Slughorn had heard that the Cloud family's heir was a magical underachiever—and had originally planned to ignore him. Slughorn prided himself on identifying exceptional young witches and wizards. After all, he had been among the first to recognize the talents of Tom Riddle himself.
But now, standing before Marius Cloud, he sensed something was off. The boy didn't match the rumors at all. In fact, he was the complete opposite.
In Slughorn's eyes, this child had the quiet intensity of someone with immense magical potential—a true prodigy, hiding in plain sight.
And Slughorn never doubted his instincts.
"My apologies," he said with a warm chuckle. "I wanted to present a small birthday gift in person, so I just had to double-check."
Marius raised an eyebrow but extended his hand. A gift from a world-renowned Potions Master? That definitely had his attention.
Slughorn rummaged around in his coat pocket before pulling out a tiny, murky bottle. Even Theodore's eyes turned green with envy when he saw it.
"A modest dose of Felix Felicis, Mr. Cloud," Slughorn said with a wink. "I do hope you'll consider joining my Slug Club once you begin your studies at Hogwarts. It's full of young talents just like you—I'm sure you'd fit right in. Happy birthday, and good luck."
He waved goodbye and waddled off.
"What?!"
Theodore stared after him, dumbfounded. "You got invited to the Slug Club?! Even I haven't been asked!"
Slughorn had always been drawn to fame, power, and brilliance. His Slug Club, founded during his tenure at Hogwarts, was a prestigious private gathering of students with elite bloodlines or remarkable abilities. Even now, though his influence had waned since retirement, the club's legacy remained strong among students.
But what shocked Theodore most wasn't the invitation—it was what Slughorn's words implied.
"Marius Cloud… a genius? That can't be right!"
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T/N:
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