Draco? Malfoy stepped out of the dark garden surrounded by hedges, his feet on the cobblestone path, the heels of his leather shoes colliding with the ground in a crisp and rhythmic "click, click, click", and a white peacock jumped down from the hedge next to him, shook its white feathers, and spread its wings in front of him with great grace.

"Oh, don't get in my way, Trines." Draco seemed to be in a bad mood, he bypassed his peacock, passed the other side of the fountain where the por flowed, stepped on a gravel road in front of the door, and walked towards the main entrance.

Taking a deep breath, his brows tightly locked, as if there was some kind of sorrow that could not be dissolved, Draco hesitated for a few seconds before stepping into the door.

The foyer was large, dimly lit, and lavishly furnished, with a rich carpet covering almost the entire stone floor, and pale portraits on the walls, and when they saw Draco enter, they immediately cast a look of relief and concern and followed him.

Draco slowly walked through the hallway, pausing in front of a heavy wooden door leading to another room, hesitated, and slowly turned the bronze handle.

"You're here, Draco-" A blonde lady, slightly pale, sitting in a sofa chair in the center of the living room, stood up to talk to Malfoy.

It was a spacious living room, beautifully decorated, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and a dark purple wall with portraits on it, and at this moment they all looked at Draco, and in the center of the wall, a magnificent marble fireplace burned brightly, and above the fireplace was a gilded mirror with a delicate cartouche on the frame.

Directly in front of the fireplace, two chairs were arranged, and the firelight reflected the slender figure on one of the armchairs.

"Yes, Mom."

Draco glanced at his mother, Narcissa, then turned his gaze to the armchair in front of the hearth, and walked towards it with his legs raised.

"Don't get too excited, talk to your father—" Narcissa reached for her son's crooked collar, and although there was a coldness and arrogance between her brows, she looked worried at the moment, and it was hard to imagine what could make a noble lady like her frown.

A slightly taller figure slowly rose from his armchair, a pale blonde hair beneath a pale and spiky face, Draco looked at the man, slowly standing still, a few steps between the two, silently fighting against something.

"Haven't you changed your childish mind, Draco?" Lucius? Malfoy looked at his son in annoyance, he now deeply regretted sending Draco to study at Hogwarts, although he was also from Slytherin House, but apparently Dumbledore had now transformed Hogwarts into a rebellious children's center, and his son not only had wayward thoughts, but even had a big fight when he reasoned with him, just a few days ago, which made Lucius not sleep well for the past few days, and even unable to eat.

"That's not naïve thinking," Draco rubbed his head, his voice raising slightly, "Didn't you say that Durmstrang was a better place for me to study, where real magic, magic with power, and not Hogwarts ......"

"It's a different time!" Lucius stepped forward, much taller than his own son, and looked down at Draco slightly, feeling a pang of distress as his only son stubbornly looked back at him.

"Durmstrang is no longer in charge of Karkaroff, not to mention that Karkaroff's reputation is not very good now-"

"I don't need your introduction," Draco retorted, waving his hand impatiently to get his father to stop continuing with the old rhetoric, "Actually, I'm quite familiar with the current Mr. Headmaster—"

"I told you you weren't allowed to have anything to do with him!" When Lucius heard his son's words, he suddenly became angry, raised his door an octave, waved his hands and glared at his son sternly with his cold blue-gray eyes like a raging lake.

"Honey—"

Narcissa walked over step by step, her hands on her chest, trying to soften her tone, and stood beside her husband, although she looked at her lover with complaining eyes, but her position was already clear, she was on Lucius's side, just to let him be quiet.

"Oh, Sicy—" Lucius made a gesture that he didn't know what to do, and looked at his son with hatred, and Narcissa immediately motioned for him to stop talking and talk to him herself.

"Draco, you know this is a bit of a special situation," she said as she bent slightly, on the same level as her son, and said as softly as she could:

"Transferring schools at will has a lot more impact than staying at Hogwarts, especially Durmstrang - it can cause problems for us and for yourself, even your dad...... It won't solve all your problems. ”

"You don't need to solve this problem, Mom, I'll be fine at Durmstran—"

"What do you know!" Lucius still couldn't help but interject, "The Dark Lord has returned!" Little Barty died at the hands of the Ning An you said, and you can't understand the wrath of the Dark Lord at all! Isn't it a reminder to the Dark Lord that we have some ulterior connection to Durmstrang's Headmaster!? ”

"But in fact he still hasn't moved," Draco said with a pale, but still stubborn, "He couldn't even find where Durmuststrong was, it was much more hidden than Hogwarts, and even if he did, the mysterious man wouldn't dare to act rashly—"

"Hmph, then you still really think about your 'Headmaster' friend," Lucius said angrily, "Who do you think he is, Dumbledore?" ”

"Ahem—" Narcissa coughed twice so that the argument between the two would cease and not immediately break out, which had broken her heart the other day.

"You should listen to your father, Draco, he knows more than you do, how much power the Dark Lord has for this-" She turned to her son and continued, "You are the son of the two of us, how could we make a bad choice for you." ”

"I've already written," Draco said, shaking his head, despite his mother's dissuasive gaze, "and it's not just me, but a few Slytherin students who will be transferring—"

"I didn't hear that the Crabbe and Goyle kids were planning to transfer schools!"

"How could it be the two of them," Draco smiled dismissively, he had rarely spent time with Crabbe and Goyle since the beginning of the last semester, and instead spent more time with the members of Serpent's Letter, such as Astoria, Eric, and others, despite being a year older than them.

"It's the Greengrass family, and the wizards from Germany—"

"Ah, Greengrass, you're really looking for a shield—" Lucius seemed to be annoyed, he walked back and forth incoherently, anyone who knew him would be shocked to see this, even in front of the Ministry of Magic/Zhang, Mr. Malfoy would always be able to talk and laugh and be calm, but now he was driven crazy by a decision made by his own son.

Narcissa also looked at her son and sighed, and at this moment, there was a sound of wings fluttering outside the window, and on the side of the glass window, there was a small pavilion dedicated to the owl messenger to stop, and at this moment a gray-white fat owl, flapping its wings and falling, stuffed a pale yellow envelope into it through the gap deliberately left under the window.

Draco skirted his parents and trotted across the hall, having a hunch that the letter was addressed to him.

"I should have arranged some better friends for you—" Lucius was still muttering to his son, but Malfoy's mind had already flown away, and he was thrilled as he touched the envelope, which was painted red in the shape of Durmstrang's school badge.

He couldn't wait to open the letter, ignoring Lucius's constant questioning, "Are you listening to me?" Draco? Did you hear what I said? Malfoy eagerly read the letter.

Mr. Malfoy

We are pleased to inform you that in order to promote international magical exchange and cooperation, Durmstrang Year 5 students will be taught interchangeably this semester and you will be studying magic at Hogwarts this semester.

Please arrive at London's King's Cross Station on 1 September, Platform 9 and 3/4.

vice-principal

Pani? Stahl respectfully

Malfoy's mouth opened wide in a daze, as a mother, Narcissa had already realized that something was wrong, and hurried over, looking at Malfoy looking at the letter in her hand in a daze, she thought something had happened to her son.

"Oh my God, Draco, what's wrong with you-" Mr. Malfoy hurried over as well, Draco? Malfoy patted his head, came to his senses, and hurriedly rolled up the letter and reloaded it into the envelope.

"No, nothing—" he said, masking himself, "I'll still be going to Hogwarts this year." ”

"Have you changed your mind?" Narcissa let out a sigh, and the expression on Lucius's face finally looked much better.

"Uh...... Let's not talk about that, Mom...... I'm a little tired, so I'll go back to my room first-"

Malfoy said, turning quickly, leaving the spacious living room and walking down the complex hallway towards the staircase that led to the second floor on the other side.

Maybe he'll have to explain it to his parents, but obviously it's going to be next semester.

On the other hand, Harry started his new summer vacation at 12 Grimmauld Place, and at the end of the holiday, Harry moved into the gloomy old house, and in just one vacation, he experienced more than countless holidays in the past.

Of course, Harry didn't have any good feelings about this weird and terrifying haunted house, whether it was the portrait of the hostess who was hiding behind the canvas and screaming, or the house-elf Kreacher who cursed all day long.

The only comfort here may be his godfather, who misses Sirius so much, and now that everything has finally become a reality, he is with his godfather again.

"So, why is your mother's portrait here?" Harry followed his godfather down the hall, down a narrow stone staircase, and he had accidentally annoyed Blake's mother, causing a tsunami of screams.

"Didn't anyone tell you? Is this my parents' house? Sirius said flatly, without any excitement or pleasure in his words, "I'm the only one left in the Black family, so now that the house is mine, I'll give it to Dumbledore - as the command of the Order of the Phoenix, I can probably only do such a useful thing." ”

Harry felt uncomfortable in his heart, not only because of his godfather's low mood and the unwelcome shown by this strange house, but also because of the fact that his feelings became a little complicated when he heard the name Dumbledore.

He still had a strange feeling, although Dumbledore helped Harry escape the trial, and Harry had a great affection for Dumbledore when the Wizengamot interrogated him, but at the end of the trial, he wanted to go up and have a good chat with the old headmaster, and when he talked about the previous problem, Dumbledore only left him with a back.

This broke Harry's heart, coupled with the slander against Dumbledore that he had faintly raised before, and Poole's instigation, this strange feeling was triggered in an instant, although no one knew, but Harry understood that he could no longer wholeheartedly believe that what Dumbledore did was for them.

Especially when looking at the melancholy of his godfather's frown, he spoke in such a stiff and cold tone, as if he had been deprived of all hope and happiness by the Dementors.

He followed the godfather to the bottom of the stairs, through a door, into the basement kitchen, a cave/xue-deep room surrounded by rough stone walls, Harry looked around, intending to continue asking for a message about the Order of the Phoenix, but blurted out a question about Sirius

"Why don't you go out for a walk, I mean- you don't seem to like it here, very-" Harry hesitated, not knowing what adjective to choose.

"Dumbledore advised me to stay here and not go out," Sirius pulled out a chair and sat down on it, turning his face to look at Harry, his face still heavy.

The others were in a meeting right now, Ron and the twins were in the upstairs room, and it was time for Harry and Godfather to spend alone.

"You know I'm a wanted criminal, out there - the Ministry of Magic is offering a bounty on my head-"

"Did Dumbledore also advise you not to let me move in with you?" Harry thought that his tone must have been colder than Sirius's when he asked this, as if he had heard Poole in his chest encouraging him, yes, yes, it should be so, or when would he have to pay for his grievances.