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8:47 1 August 1991

The result of the game of wizard chess before him was decided even before the first move. Draco was just really good at chess.

Theo, before him, seemed to think hard as he was frowning and practically glaring a hole into the board, earning a snort from their other company, Blaise Zabini, who was currently sitting comfortably on an elegant green couch in the corner of Draco's room, right below a big French-style window.

They were in his room right now, Theo having decided to challenge him yet again, and Blaise promptly followed them, probably to enjoy the show of Nott losing yet again. He wasn't even paying much attention to their game, as he was far more focused on the book on Dark Arts he was reading.

They were one month away from the school starting. Over the three years that had passed, Draco mostly worked on himself and on getting allies, somewhat. One ally was currently sitting on his couch. He had recruited him a year after Nott, pretty much using the same method. Blaise had also proven competent and loyal.

One thing that surprised him about Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini was that they actually seemed to have some sort of honor, admittedly in Zabini's case, it was quite twisted, but it existed nonetheless.

Another thing was that they seemed to have genuine loyalty toward him.

Draco himself was surprised that he found their company tolerable and even somewhat uplifting. Both were quite smart and witty for their age.

That was the thing: both of them were still kids, but they weren't the annoying sort, so he didn't care.

He checked up on Gregory and Vincent. He didn't need to do anything, as both of their families were practically his family vassals. But it surprised him that they seemed more competent than in the movies or generally anywhere they were shown. They didn't seem so dumb; they weren't fat, but neither handsome. Both were quite average, with black and brown hair, and both had brown eyes. They also showed an etiquette that he didn't expect.

Of course, just because he didn't need to do anything wasn't enough for him, so he still showed them their place. They proved to be acceptable, but they weren't as good as Theo or Blaise in terms of intelligence, magical capability, etc. But they weren't completely talentless, so he did the same as he did for Theo and Blaise: ordered them to study and train, as he wouldn't accept incompetence.

Of course, they were still children, so they basically just read more books and tried harder, but still, it was at least something.

Draco himself studied and trained hard. He knew he had talent, but it wasn't like it was something never seen. If wizards of the same level duel, most of the time the more skilled one wins—the one who spent hours practicing his spells over and over, getting them faster, stronger, and more efficient. And that was what he did.

He soaked up every bit of knowledge his grandfather bestowed upon him in the art of dueling. He even trained physically, which was rare for an average wizard; in dueling, it was common, as every duelist should have some sort of stamina, but it was still looked down upon by some individuals.

Draco didn't care. He did whatever he thought could give him an edge in a fight: Charms, Dark Arts, Transfiguration, etc. Of course, he didn't only spend his time figuring out how to fight. He also relearned everything he knew from his previous life by buying muggle books, which was a problem at first, but after some talk with his mother, he got her permission. It probably helped that she thought he was just buying some stories from muggles, not mathematical questions and their answers, etc.

He also educated himself in a few languages, especially French and Latin. French wasn't all that difficult, but Latin was horrible—still manageable, though. He somehow started his education in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, as making his own spells or enchanting objects greatly interested him.

Wards were quite difficult, but he already knew a handful of the basic ones. Potion-making came naturally to him, as Snape had said. The man had been teaching him every week since his ninth birthday, given that Snape and his father were good friends.

Another subject he went on to further himself in was Occlumency, finding himself talented in that particular aspect of magic. He already had his mind palace and had arranged his memories accordingly. He found that he gained something of a photographic memory, as recalling his memories became considerably easier, an aspect that not every Occlumens gets to. Learning from that point on was easy, at least the memorizing part.

Now, his Legilimency was only in its beginning stages, as only recently had his mastery of Occlumency become sufficient to pursue it. This said a lot, as he was naturally talented in this sort of magic, and it still took him three years to reach this point. With his wand, he could somewhat attack, but without it, he needed eye contact just to get a simple read on an individual's emotions. Surface thoughts were still beyond him, and even after reading someone's emotions, he would still get headaches, meaning he had a long way to go.

Due to his paranoia, he gave a few lessons on the subject to his cohort and was surprised by the mixed results. From what he gathered, the most basic aspect of Occlumency was controlling one's emotions. After that, a person could attempt to shield their mind. Following that, with time and practice, one could build a 'Mind Palace' and start working on protecting memories, although this part wasn't mandatory. Most people didn't bother, as it was difficult and largely dependent on one's talent in mind magic. It also required a lot of time and rigid practice, but Draco persisted.

It made sense why not everyone became an Occlumens. Few had the talent for the higher aspects of the magic, and many were unwilling to invest years of effort just to protect their minds from a skill they might never encounter.

Of course, that mentality seemed foolish to Draco, as he saw Occlumency as essential to protecting his mind. However, he didn't care what others thought. Gregory and Vincent, through sheer hard work, became capable of controlling their emotions and adequately protecting their minds, tested by Draco himself. Blaise and Theo had an easier time mastering the magic, as both were already adept at controlling their emotions.

The results also depended on the individual's temperament. Gregory, who had quite a temper, struggled with it, while the calmer Vincent found it easier. Blaise and Theo were both naturally composed, able to mask their emotions without magic. Blaise, despite having a bit of a temper, channeled his anger effectively when needed. Theo, much like Draco, was cold and calculating.

Once a week, Draco gathered his cohort to teach them everything his grandfather had taught him about dueling. Of course, he kept a few tricks to himself but still explained the basics in detail. As a result, the four of them became competent duelists.

Goyle and Crabbe were adequate, Blaise was talented, and Theo was the best after Draco. However, the gap between Draco and Theo was still considerable. To improve them all, Draco often trained by having all four duel against him. This helped sharpen their skills and teamwork.

Over time, the group grew closer, starting to feel like a cohesive unit rather than just individuals working together. They became friends—or at least, the others did. Draco didn't consider any of them friends, but they were useful, and he found their company somewhat uplifting.

The reason Draco tolerated them was that, even though they grew close, everyone knew their place. They never questioned him, defied him, or crossed any lines. This behavior made Draco somewhat paranoid, as he had expected some form of rebellion, but none came.

He once asked his grandfather why this was, and his grandfather laughed, his expression suggesting he knew the reason but found it amusing not to tell. Draco didn't ask again after that.

They didn't call him "my lord" or anything ridiculous like that. He allowed them to use his first name, as he had no desire for petty titles. Besides, it would be embarrassing for a group of eleven-year-olds to call him "my lord."

There was a knock at the door.

Draco glanced at Blaise, who sighed, set the book he was reading down on the couch, and went to answer the door. Draco turned his attention back to the game with Theo, seeing that Nott had finally made his move.

It wasn't a bad move, but it didn't matter in the end. Within the next four moves, Draco delivered checkmate. His black pieces cheered as they beheaded the opposing king.

He calmly reset all the pieces, taking no more than two minutes. He wasn't in any rush. Once the board was back in place, he looked up.

Blaise had resumed reading, and Theo stood beside him, discussing the book. Gregory and Vincent were sitting next to them, also talking about it.

"So, everyone's here..." Draco drawled.

They all looked at him. Blaise flashed a grin and stood up.

With an exaggerated bow, he said, "Your Highness, your merry band is ready to go out."

Theo rolled his eyes, Gregory and Vincent chuckled, and Draco merely snorted.

Draco stood, the second tallest of the group—Blaise being the tallest, with Theo, Gregory, and Vincent being of similar heights.

"Let's go," Draco said simply, and began walking, footsteps following him.

They made their way to the part of the Manor where the Floo Network was connected. Draco idly summoned a house-elf and instructed it to inform his mother that they were leaving. His father wouldn't be accompanying them to Diagon Alley, as he had a meeting with the Wizengamot and other business matters. His mother was also busy, and his grandfather had gone on a trip to France to "visit some old friends," as he had put it. Draco didn't care what his eccentric grandfather got up to, as long as he didn't die—there was still much for him to teach.

A few minutes later, his mother arrived, resplendent as always. Her long blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and tall stature made her the epitome of pure-blood beauty. Draco often noted that he resembled her more than his father, for which he was somewhat thankful. Beauty was a powerful weapon, and while his father could be considered handsome, he wasn't as striking as his mother.

Draco, of course, knew that in the books and movies, he was described as looking more like his father, which only reinforced his belief that this was some kind of alternate universe. One of many, perhaps.

"Draco, dear, be careful, alright? And the same goes for you, boys," she said, glancing especially at Theo.

They all nodded, and after his mother embarrassed him with a kiss, they stepped into the Floo Network and went on their way.

...

Diagon Alley was more crowded than usual, Draco noted as he walked through the bustling streets. Glancing around, he spotted a swarm of journalists and onlookers, as if some celebrity had graced them with their presence.

And in a few seconds, he saw exactly why. He was seeing yet another thing that led him to believe he was in some sort of alternate universe.

Before him, at the center of attention, stood Jim Potter—the Boy Who Lived. Surrounding him was the entire Potter family: his father, James Potter; his mother, Lily Potter; and his sister, Dahlia Potter. But that wasn't the end of it.

The Black family was also present. Sirius Black, along with his wife, Aquila Black née Greengrass, were there. Yes, from that Greengrass family. With them were their children, Orion Black and Iris Black. Even this was not the whole picture.

Aside from the adults, there were other children: Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley (probably), Luna Lovegood (he wasn't sure), Neville Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis if Draco thought correctly, Susan Bones, and Pansy Parkinson was actually there too, as well as Hannah Abbott.

The boys seemed to be talking among themselves, while Iris Black appeared to be holding court with Daphne, Pansy, and Tracey. Meanwhile, Dahlia Potter had her own group—Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones.

Draco's head was spinning from the sheer number of influential connections gathered in one place.

Over the past few years, he had come to realize his own position wasn't as secure as he'd once thought. But seeing this scene unfold before him made it clear—his situation was even worse than he had imagined.

It wasn't just about the Potter family or the Black family, now allied through marriage with the Greengrass family. There was also Susan Bones, niece of Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Daphne Greengrass, heiress to the Greengrass family.

Neville Longbottom, heir to the Longbottom family.

Tracey Davis, whose family held significant sway in the potions industry of Magical Britain.

Hannah Abbott, with similar resources to Davis, thanks to her family's connections.

All in all, quite impressive.

Then add James Potter and Sirius Black, the lords of two of the most influential families on the Wizengamot.

And of course, there was Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

The Light faction, side, or whatever you wanted to call it, was looking stronger than ever.

Draco's family had aligned with the Grey side of politics in the Wizengamot after the war, and his father did an excellent job in politics, so much so that the current Minister was in their pocket. This meant that the Malfoys could still see eye to eye with the Potters and Blacks.

But all wasn't perfect. The other Dark families had cut off contact with them. Of course, that was foolish on their part, as the Malfoys practically sh*t gold, but that didn't matter to Draco.

For the Dark side, they were essentially traitors, and for the Light side, they were viewed similarly, just under different circumstances. The Goyle and Crabbe families followed them, and after some persuasion, even the Notts had joined. So, at the moment, they had somewhat of a faction on the Grey side.

It wasn't anything spectacular—Goyle and Crabbe weren't all that reputable, and the Notts were respected but ultimately fell short in comparison to the likes of the Potters and Blacks.

Zabini was a bit of a wild card. His family didn't hold a seat on the Wizengamot, but they had a lot of dirt on the other families that did and plenty of connections in Europe, which meant access to a lot of information.

Blaise was probably his best investment.

Draco inspected the whole scene, a question lingering in his mind that he'd had for quite some time.

Where is Harry Potter?

Or perhaps there wasn't a Harry Potter anymore. With all the apparent changes, there seemed to be only Jim Potter. But Jim Potter wasn't Harry Potter with a different name. The boy was a carbon copy of his father in everything, even down to his eyes.

"Draco?" A quiet voice spoke from his side.

He glanced slightly to his right. "What?"

"Are we going to keep staring at them like all the other posers around us?" came the chuckling voice to his left. Blaise.

"They sure are salivating," mumbled Vincent.

Gregory just smirked.

Draco, looking at them all, rolled his eyes.

"Also, not to ruin the laughs, but there's an annoying-looking Black heading our way," Blaise added with mirth in his voice, pointing at the shop.

Draco looked at the entrance, and sure enough, Iris Black was already making her way toward them. A few seconds later, the other girls followed her out of the shop.

"She's not alone," Theo noted in a monotone voice.

What was more concerning was that everyone in the shop was now looking their way—adults, children, and soon the journalists, though they kept a respectful distance from the Black girl and her entourage.

Iris approached with a smirk plastered across her face.

"Hello there, Malfoy. What are you doing here on this fine day?"

Draco tensed slightly. This wasn't the first time he'd had the 'honor' of speaking with her. Over the years, they had crossed paths many times at various Balls and events. She always found some excuse to talk to him, usually about trivial matters. He suspected she did it because her family and the Potters despised his family.

His eyes flicked past her to the shop where Sirius Black and James Potter stood, both watching them closely. Though he couldn't make out their expressions from this distance, he imagined they weren't pleased.

Draco looked down slightly—she was shorter than him by a few inches—his face carefully neutral.

"Scion Black, what a pleasure," he greeted her with a hint of sarcasm, though his tone remained polite.

Iris's smirk widened. "Always a pleasure, I'm sure," she replied smoothly, amusement dancing in her eyes. "So, what brings you to Diagon Alley today? Picking up some new toys for your collection?"

"Just some errands," he responded coolly. "Nothing quite as exciting as your shopping spree, I'm sure."

Iris laughed lightly, "Oh, you have no idea," she said cryptically, her gaze flicking briefly toward the bustling crowd behind them. "But enough about me. How's life in Malfoy Manor these days? Still playing the role of the perfect little prince?"

As she spoke, the other girls caught up. Greengrass and Davis watched curiously, while Pansy gave them a nod in acknowledgment.

Draco ignored the others and focused on Iris. "Everyone has a role to play. You just haven't seemed to find yours," he said, his tone cold.

Iris, still smirking, chuckled again. "Malfoy, you and your theatrics. That's why I always say hello—you're the life of every party."

She suddenly glanced behind him with a peculiar expression and laughed softly. "Well, don't let me keep you. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to catch up later," she added sarcastically.

Turning on her heel, Iris walked back toward her group, followed by the other girls, each offering their own brief goodbyes and pleasantries.

Draco watched them go, feeling the tension in the air. "It's pointless to get angry."

He glanced at his friends. Gregory was frowning openly, Theo's jaw was clenched, Blaise's smirk had a sharper edge, and Vincent's eyes were cold, still fixed on Iris.

Ignoring the rising tension, Draco began walking away, noting the journalists scribbling in their notebooks. The adults in the ice cream shop hadn't stopped watching him either.

As he walked, Draco stared back at them, undeterred, while the sound of footsteps followed him.