On Saturday afternoon, when Draco looked out of his window in the attic above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Hogsmeade was already packed with people.
He glanced at the lonely Shrieking Shack in the wasteland not far away, and the faint candlelight flickering inside, and a question arose in his mind.
What? Could it be true, as the ghosts of Hogwarts say, that a pack of savages live in there?
A proper Slytherin never meddles in other people's business. Adhering to this basic principle, he decided to turn his attention back and bring his wandering thoughts down to the gravitational reality of life.
This loft... Draco's private office space... had been transformed by Dobby into a sitting room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, thanks to numerous masterful Undetectable Extension Charms and a functional zoning plan approved by Draco.
The sitting room was quite spacious.
A perpetually burning candle sat atop the white mantelpiece, and the black leather sofa was so comfortable and spacious that anyone lying on it would marvel at its luxuriousness. The coffee table and side tables were spotless, and several armchairs sat there patiently.
The entire wall was covered with bookshelves, and an antique writing desk stood by the window.
The desk was piled high with letters: several from the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Registration of Patented Charms and Products, a rates notice from the Hogsmeade parish administration, Dobby's account of the renovation costs for the shop, property brochures from Muggle estate agents... from London, Liverpool, Manchester, Bristol, and Holyhead... and stock and currency investment advice from Muggle investment managers, among other things.
In the corner of the sitting room stood a large black and gold cabinet, the Vanishing Cabinet that Dobby had anonymously bought from Borgin and Burkes.
It had taken a lot of effort, but it was worth it, Draco thought.
The rest of the loft was unremarkable; the bedroom was smaller than the sitting room, containing only a carved four-poster bed and a rustic wardrobe. The bathroom and kitchen were very clean.
Draco looked around and was fairly satisfied.
He felt he had reason to raise Dobby's wages to five Galleons a week. And Dobby, as always, would probably look troubled by his inability to refuse, then burst into tears of joy, and finally awkwardly accept this unchangeable reality.
House-elves! What an enigmatic species!
He could not help but chuckle, then pulled out a silver key and locked the attic door. After casting a few silent charms on the door with the tip of his wand, he skilfully descended a hidden staircase.
Fred, dressed in a magenta robe, was arranging some bottles and jars on the wall shelf. Hearing Draco come downstairs, he turned and grinned at him.
"You are right, we should have hired an assistant a long time ago. To be honest, we really need to spend some time preparing for the OWLs. If we do not get a single qualification, Mum might..." At this point, Fred, who was usually fearless, shuddered for once.
"What, do you think we could turn you into specimens and hang you on the wall?" Draco asked casually, glancing at the animal specimens on the wall.
"That is a new idea. I shall have to try it on Percy sometime." Fred's eyes gleamed with mischief. "I was originally going to say Mum would have Percy sing to us all day... in the kind of voice you hear coming from the bathroom."
"Speaking of which, your brother seems to be constantly confiscating Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products at school," Draco said casually, picking up a new defensive item that was being modified and glancing at it.
"Can we not try to 'persuade' him a little?"
"Oh, he has never had much of a sense of humour... it is probably something he was born with... but ever since he became a Prefect, he has become even more prone to making a fuss."
Fred shook his head. "But it is all right, we have sent his girlfriend a lot of samples, so he probably does not have time for us now."
"What samples?" Draco asked, slightly surprised, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Are they that effective?"
"Oh, you know, remarkably so..." Fred's eyes gleamed with ill intent.
"Mr Weasley!" Just as they were talking, the young blonde shop assistant named Verity peeked in from behind the curtain.
Draco saw that she was wearing the same magenta shop robe as the Weasley twins. She said in a serious tone, "Mr Weasley asked me to tell you that a customer wants to see the Laughing Cauldron."
"All right, Verity, I am coming." He winked at Draco, grinned mischievously, and picked up a thick cardboard box to go downstairs.
Draco shook his head, convinced that the samples must be something special. He quietly followed Fred down the stairs and overheard Harry grumbling to Ron.
"I suspect Snape has cast a Tracking Charm on me! I am going mad! No matter where I go, he can find me and follow me around like a shadow!" Harry said in despair.
He glanced sullenly across the street through the shop window. Draco followed his gaze and vaguely spotted a corner of Professor Snape's iconic black robe.
"Harry, there is no such charm..." Ron said impatiently, fiddling with a fake wand on the shelf and checking the label.
"Yes, there is," Draco said slowly as he walked over, "but not like this..."
He paused, his wandering eyes fixed on Hermione not far away.
She was standing by the pink shelf that witches loved most, holding something in her hand, with an almost obsessive expression on her face.
On that slender finger was the silver ring on which he had placed a Tracking Charm.
She seemed to sense his gaze. At that moment, she suddenly turned to look at him, met his eyes, and wore a satisfied smile.
Draco felt a little guilty. He gave her a slight smile and swallowed hard.
He never used that Tracking Charm. Never.
But whenever he thought about it, he felt incredibly guilty.
It was strange that a Slytherin who would stop at nothing should feel guilty about such a trivial charm.
He even felt like that ginger cat named Crookshanks. Unable to control himself, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest, constantly worried about being discovered by her, and afraid of her overwhelming rage after she found out the truth.
She will not like this Tracking Charm.
She has never liked being kept tabs on.
Draco was somewhat troubled. He had considered getting that wretched ring back and cancelling the Tracking Charm.
But he had never found the right opportunity.
She seemed to really like the ring, so much so that she always wore it on her hand.
This affection should have made him feel gratified, but now it was causing him some trouble.
He stared intently at her smile... she looked so happy.
He did not want to shatter this happiness. He did not want to imagine her anger.
Forget it, let us not think about it any more, we shall simply not use it.
Draco sighed inwardly, banishing the matter from his mind for the time being.