In the fall of 1965, Lucius and I entered Hogwarts.
He raised his glass elegantly at the Slytherin table, with a cold and cold smile on his lips.
That night I understood the Malfoy family motto.
Power is like a poppy.
I love power more than gold galleons.
But Lucius always said:
"My dear, we are so similar and destined to belong to each other."
In fourth grade, he kissed my hand:
"You belong Malfoy."
I smile like a flower:
"If you could turn moonlight into galleons... Maybe I'd consider it."
Graduation dinner.
He put down his wine glass at the astronomy tower:
"Want to see my alchemy?"
When the cold fingertips pass by.
The stars in the sky burned into bright golden powder and sprinkled on the shoulders.
——And the rose in my pocket quietly transformed into gold.
Purpose: careerist