ch 4

This morning, Draco woke up feeling like he wanted to just melt into his super soft and comfortable bed.

even the act of opening his eyes was a battle

Sure, every morning was a new battle, but this morning it was especially hard for him to face the day. Today was the day when he had to board the most praised red express locomotive and set foot on the grounds of Hogwarts.

Well, basically today was the day he had to go back to school. A school full of troublesome events and characters, mind you, and like any sane teenager, he found it distasteful, even downright annoying.

He sighed and finally opened his eyes

It was funny how time passed, even though he had most of the summer vacation to think and plan, he came up with nothing discernable. 

He really wondered how the reincarnated people in some of the novels he read could adapt and then form plans so quickly and smoothly.

Like how some of them can instantly, perfectly or easily blend in with every little habit and every behavior of the original body and some of them completely ignore it and act as they please while still being able to completely avoid suspicion? 

How can you suddenly be able to communicate with someone you've never known at all your whole life when that person really knows everything about you? Even though I have the memory, I didn't directly experience these things, so it baffled me.

or is it just him? well, luckily even though he got off to a bad start ( with how awkward and jumpy he is ) and some of his tempers were a bit different, his parents and healers eventually thought it was just a side effect of the coma...or maybe they think it's just teenage hormones acting out.

And the luckiest thing is that in the wizarding world there are no such things as human experiments, things that require opening your head -literally - or other crazy things. and the person most likely to be able or interested in doing something equivalent was Draco's own godfather, so this was beyond the pale.

it's like, he's trying, he really is, but the reality is a sucks. After he came to, the moment he gave the slightest sign that he was okay, he was flurried with schedule after schedule. He was so busy that when he had time, he dedicated it to fulfilling his basic human needs, such as eating, bathing, and sleeping. 

He never thought that a fourteen year old child could have so many things to do on his days off as he did until now. Starting from my mother's tea parties, languages, potions, theories, family magic, general magic and rituals, art, music, to etiquette, etc.

And if some of you say that I can think of a plan before bed..I will throttle you! How can I, when the schedule is so packed that it leaves you exhausted at the end of the day and all that's left is to fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. He didn't even have enough time and energy to balance his magic and core gems because of that.

Of course he could skip it, his parents weren't as strict as they seemed let alone forcing him, especially so after the accident back then. But when he could actually skip some tutors or activities, in the end he did not get the desired plan results. In the end, I did it of my own free will and I understand that Draco's parents' intentions were only for the good of their child's future.

Once he was dressed and had finished getting ready, he left the room. No matter how many times he saw this manor, he never got tired of it. The halls were long, with high ceilings and many moving paintings lining the walls, both of people and landscapes, decorated here and there with precious ancient trinkets.

Light and shadow combined perfectly to give a sense of both beauty and mystery, and with a unique slight hum in the air that tickled pleasantly against his skin, reassuring him with every step he took. 

As he stood behind the dining room door to enter, he took a deep breath to calm himself. In the middle of the dining room was a long, dark brown carved table with ten equally dark chairs. On the table were placed various delicious foods on a fine tableware, made by the family's trusted elf-chef. 

Where two seats were occupied, were Draco's parents. His mother sat at one end of the table, blonde with some wisp of black hair and grey-eyed, and his father sat at the other end of the table, long platinum blonde hair and blue-eyed. They had a truly extraordinary appearance, and were a striking couple, draco being the fruit of their union, even more so.

His mother smiled affectionately at him when she saw draco, when he was close enough she got up and kissed his cheek, "How is your night dragon? did you get a good night's rest?"

He smiled and gave a quick hug " yes, it's quite good mother "

He sat in his chair, after greeting his father he began to eat his breakfast gracefully, according to what had been ingrained in his body and what he had learned in the last few weeks. A noble descended, especially a Malfoy and a Black could never be seen as sloppy in public no matter the place or situation. Not only would this be undignified, but it would also damage their carefully curated reputation. 

On this, Draco agreed. It doesn't matter whether it's an ordinary person or a high class person, when it comes to eating, it's better to have manners, to protect personal and collective interests.

The table was quite silent for a while except for the sound of cutlery, only after the dessert was almost finished did his mother broach the topic ...

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