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Chapter 5 — Letters, Wands, and the Weight of a Name
Life had been good for Draco lately.
Between learning magic, occasionally attempting to teach Crabbe and Goyle—those two blockheads who followed him around—telling embellished stories to impress Pansy, and traveling now and then with his parents, his days were pleasantly full.
Until an owl delivered a letter that changed everything.
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HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class; Grand Sorcerer; Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; President of the International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Malfoy,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A list of required books and equipment is enclosed.
Term begins September 1st.
Please send your reply by owl no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
---
Draco skimmed the list—robes, hat, gloves, cloak, books, wand, cauldron. All standard. Nothing surprising.
But Lucius was frowning.
> "I still think Durmstrang would suit you better,"
he commented after reading the letter.
Well, of course he'd say that. Durmstrang hardly restricted Dark Arts, and they didn't accept Muggle-borns. Exactly the sort of place Lucius considered "proper education."
Narcissa disagreed immediately.
> "And send our precious son that far away? Besides, it's on a tiny island—how inconvenient."
"Hogwarts is close to home. You're on the Board of Governors. You can look after him."
Lucius's face tightened.
> "You know very well I don't get along with that white-bearded old man."
Draco calmly put an end to the argument.
> "I'm going to Hogwarts."
What a joke—after investing years into building Pansy's affection, he wasn't about to throw that away. The girl had practically grown up beside him; at this point they were childhood sweethearts minus the title. Leaving her for some isolated Dark Arts academy? No thanks.
Plus, Hogwarts was where all the "canon events" were. Going to Durmstrang would be like choosing the DLC map where nothing fun happens.
Narcissa beamed and kissed his forehead.
> "See? Our darling boy can't bear to leave us."
Lucius sighed in defeat.
> "Fine. Both mother and son have spoken."
Narcissa brightened further.
> "Wonderful! Then we must go to Diagon Alley soon. Oh, I can't wait to see Draco in his new school robes. And you'll need a wand—Ollivander will select the perfect match."
Draco shrugged.
He didn't really care about wands. Unless it was something utterly broken like the Elder Wand—but he wasn't interested in that cursed magnet for disaster. Sure, you wouldn't lose a duel… but assassination attempts were another matter entirely.
Wands were tools, nothing more. Voldemort and Dumbledore could pick up a stick from the ground and still be terrifying. Masters didn't rely on their wands—they just made spells easier, cleaner. A bonus, not the foundation.
Lucius stood.
> "We should go early. Crowds will become unbearable soon."
> "Agreed," Draco said, already curious about Diagon Alley.
Gringotts, Flourish & Blotts… maybe even Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes (if it existed yet).
Father and son walked to the fireplace.
> "Be careful not to say the wrong destination," Lucius warned.
> "I know, Father."
"Diagon Alley!"
Green flames roared, swallowing them in an instant. Draco felt himself whirl through the Floo Network—spinning, spinning—until he landed on solid stone with a lurch.
Lucius steadied him.
> "Let's rest a moment. The first trip is always unpleasant."
> "Good idea…" Draco exhaled, dizzy.
> "We can stop by Florean Fortescue's for licorice ice cream," Lucius suggested, sounding—for once—like a normal dad simply wanting to see his kid smile.
And honestly? Nothing healed motion sickness like sugar. One ice cream later, Draco felt much better.
Lucius chuckled.
> "Ice cream brings good luck. Come, let's get your wand."
---
Ollivander's
The shop was tiny, shabby, and stacked floor-to-ceiling with wand boxes. Dust floated lazily in the dim light. On a faded purple cushion in the window sat a single wand like a museum relic.
They stepped inside.
A soft voice drifted out:
> "Good afternoon."
Garrick Ollivander emerged—pale eyes shining like silver moons, ancient and all-knowing. Draco could feel it: people who reached the pinnacle of their craft radiated a certain aura.
> "Ah… Mr. Lucius. As if we met only yesterday."
Lucius snorted.
> "You say that to everyone. And yes, I know you do remember every wand—but spare me the ceremony."
Ollivander's gaze drifted to Draco.
> "What a handsome young wizard. Ah, what do Muggles call it? Genes. He's inherited quite a lot from you."
"Your name, young man?"
> "Draco Malfoy."
> "Excellent name."
Ollivander motioned him forward.
> "Which hand?"
> "Right."
A measuring tape immediately began zipping around Draco on its own.
Ollivander turned to fetch a wand—
but Draco spoke first.
> "Mr. Ollivander, I think that wand looks good."
He pointed at a specific box.
Ollivander blinked.
> "…It's better to trust a professional. A wand may be with you for life."
Lucius waved him off.
> "We'll hear my son's choice first."
Resigned, Ollivander brought the wand Draco had indicated.
> "Hawthorn. Unicorn hair core. Ten inches even. Try it."
He didn't look thrilled—understandably. No expert liked their judgment questioned.
Draco took the wand and flicked it.
> "Lumos."
A burst of brilliant white light exploded—so bright that both Lucius and Ollivander shielded their eyes.
Ollivander sighed in defeat.
> "Well. Seems I'll be out of a job at this rate."
It was a perfect match.
Lucius reached for his wallet.
> "How much?"
> "Twelve Galleons," Ollivander muttered, still somewhat deflated.
But when he escorted them out, he bowed sincerely.
> "Your child will become a remarkable wizard."
Lucius accepted the compliment easily.
> "Thank you."
His good mood lasted exactly ten seconds.
Because the moment they stepped back into the busy street, Lucius spotted someone he absolutely despised.
---
The Weasleys
Lucius stiffened.
> "Draco, remember the honor of our bloodline. Don't disgrace it the way some do."
Draco frowned.
Then he saw them—the unmistakable red-haired father and son.
Arthur Weasley and Ron Weasley.
Ah. That explained it.
Lucius approached like a shark smelling blood.
> "Well, well, Arthur. I didn't expect to see you buying new things. I forgot—every wizard needs his own wand, even those who scavenge from hand-me-downs."
A direct hit.
Ron, still using Charlie's old wand, flushed scarlet.
Arthur's expression chilled.
> "Since when did Malfoys concern themselves with my family?"
The tension was instant.
Pure-blood supremacy vs. Muggle-friendly idealism. Oil and fire. The Malfoys and Weasleys had stood on opposite extremes for generations, their philosophies fundamentally incompatible.
Lucius smirked.
> "Consider it… friendly advice. Wouldn't want anyone embarrassing their family."
Arthur grabbed Ron's shoulder.
> "We're leaving."
As they walked away, Draco thought:
So this is their first meeting. Yikes.
Lucius, satisfied, murmured:
> "Remember that red hair, Draco. It's a disgrace to pure-blood wizardry."
Draco nodded politely.
Inside, he thought something entirely different.
Changing an entire worldview wasn't simple—especially when your privileged life depended on it. Even Malfoy Manor owed much to Muggle-money ancestors that pure-blood fanatics preferred not to acknowledge.
I can only try to change things slowly, he thought.
---
Lucius straightened his robes.
> "Come. Let's visit Gringotts."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
> "But we already brought plenty of money for robes and books."
Lucius smirked.
> "My child, don't you want your own broom? What we brought isn't enough."
> "Father… the letter said first-years aren't allowed personal brooms."
Lucius lowered his voice conspiratorially.
> "As a school governor, I can arrange a little… exception."
Draco's eyes lit up despite himself.
Flying was a universal dream.
> "There is one condition," Lucius added.
> "What is it?"
> "Don't tell your mother. She hates it when you do dangerous things."
Draco nodded eagerly.
No wonder in the original story he turned into such a spoiled prince, Draco thought wryly. His father practically encourages it.
Lucius ruffled his hair.
> "Let's go, then."
And so, as the sky turned the color of warm embers, father and son finished their errands, bags full and spirits high.
They vanished at the mouth of Diagon Alley, ending the day's adventure.
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