Time had a way of changing everything without anyone noticing. In the blink of an eye, the date had already reached October 1st.
It had been a month since the young wizards returned to school.
The atmosphere within the castle was peaceful, and thankfully, there had been no more incidents of anyone being attacked.
However, quite a few things had happened across Britain during this period, keeping the entire country in a state of constant unrest.
First of all was Sirius's declaration of innocence.
The Ministry of Magic quietly withdrew the wanted notice and was forced to publish the truth of the entire affair in an issue of the Daily Prophet.
Dumbledore's decision to bypass the Ministry of Magic and deal directly with the International Confederation of Wizards had undoubtedly infuriated Fudge.
After all, he had touched upon Fudge's most sensitive desire: his thirst for power.
As a result, after throwing a spectacular tantrum, the Minister of Magic secretly hoped that something would happen at Hogwarts again so that he could make an issue of it and vent his anger.
Aside from that...
The most eye-catching development during this period was undoubtedly the succession of spells Dawn had revealed in the newspapers.
The Age-Reduction Spell, which could restore one's youth.
The Secret Spell, which could create a separate space.
And the Growth Spell, which could accelerate the growth and maturation of plants and animals after being cast.
Dawn had created the latter after using the Flesh-Splitting Curse on a "volunteer," observing the growth of the swelling on their back, and discovering the corresponding magical pattern.
The Daily Prophet had spared no effort in praising Dawn, calling him the most talented wizard of the century, while taking the opportunity to announce that a magical press conference would be held.
On top of that, people had gradually begun successfully casting the spells published in the newspaper.
The two developments complemented each other, and together they pushed the anticipation for the press conference to its peak.
Thus, on October 1st, the day of the magical press conference, numerous wizards flooded into the castle, some driven by a thirst for knowledge and others simply eager to watch the spectacle.
Hogwarts.
The school was exceptionally lively today.
The young wizards either leaned against the windows or poked their heads out from around the Great Hall, secretly observing the unfamiliar wizards entering one after another as though they were gathering intelligence.
Every so often, someone would shout excitedly:
"Whoa, look! That's Alastor Moody! The legendary Auror, my idol! He actually came!"
"Isn't that Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports? Hey! I'll tell you a secret. My dad says he's a terrible gambler and owes a huge amount of money!"
"..."
"Cedric, I think I saw your father! That's Mr. Amos Diggory, right? He's waving at you!"
The young wizards discussed everything with great enthusiasm.
That was simply how students were.
As long as something had nothing to do with studying, even the most tedious affair could become an entertaining pastime.
And the upcoming press conference was certainly anything but boring.
After learning that there were no restrictions on attendance, some of the students who wanted to participate even changed into their finest clothes, held their heads high, and tried their best to imitate the bearing of adults.
Still, certain personalities and conflicting relationships could not be restrained no matter the circumstances.
"Oh, Weasley! Look at those shabby clothes of yours! I suggest you hurry back to your dormitory before you embarrass the entire school!"
Outside the Great Hall, Draco and Ron had both come looking for their respective parents, and the two happened to meet as though fate itself had arranged it.
The young master immediately put on a look of disgust and deliberately raised his voice to mock Ron.
Ron grabbed at his ill-fitting robes, his face turning bright red.
Behind him, Arthur Weasley gave an unhappy grunt.
However, he could not bring himself to argue with a child, so he turned his anger toward Lucius instead.
"Malfoy, control your son!"
"I believe Draco is perfectly correct."
Lucius wore the same expression of disdain as his son.
"Weasley, instead of humiliating yourself here, perhaps you should spend some time thinking about how to keep your enormous family from starving next month."
Arthur's temper flared instantly.
The two men began trading barbs.
Only after they attracted far too many curious gazes did Lucius snort and, maintaining the dignity expected of a nobleman, take the initiative to leave and end the argument.
After parting ways with Ron, Draco immediately restrained his usual arrogance and haughtiness.
He followed his father with impeccable manners, skillfully navigating the crowd and exchanging greetings with various people.
The press conference was scheduled for the afternoon, so there was still some time before lunch.
The wizards who had arrived early naturally formed small groups and began socializing with one another.
Suddenly, the young master noticed a dark-skinned man with golden ornaments hanging from his ears and features distinctly different from those of a Briton walking past them.
"He's from Uagadou, the African wizarding school."
Noticing his son's curious gaze, Lucius quietly explained. He was, after all, a well-traveled and knowledgeable man.
"Africa? Someone came from all the way over there?"
Draco muttered softly, looking genuinely surprised.
Lucius shook his head.
He had his own suspicions, but since they involved Dawn, he could not say much. He simply fell silent.
The two continued greeting acquaintances.
Then Draco suddenly glanced cautiously upward before clearing his throat.
"Dad, are you tired? You look really worn out."
"Nothing. I simply didn't get enough sleep last night."
Lucius answered dismissively.
In truth, however, he was exhausted beyond words.
It was only natural.
Everyone knew how much work had gone into clearing Dawn's name, organizing a magical press conference unlike anything the wizarding world had ever seen, and making sure everything proceeded smoothly within such a short period.
Although it appeared that the Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet were doing most of the publicity, the Malfoy and Greengrass families had also put considerable effort into the preparations behind the scenes.
It was precisely because they had called upon the connections accumulated by their families over generations that so many pure-blood families had sent representatives to the press conference.
Even so, quite a few families still did not take the event seriously enough to send anyone.
They were going to regret it.
Lucius consoled himself with that thought.
After all, he knew exactly what kind of person his current superior was.
A dark wizard who held grudges, remembered every slight, and had absolutely no regard for convention.
"Dad..."
Draco called softly once more.
Lucius came back to himself.
Seeing the hesitant expression on his son's face, he frowned.
"If you have something to say, just say it."
"Oh, it's like this..."
Draco carefully chose his words, considering every sentence.
"Dad, you know I'm a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team. I really want to lead the team to glory and beat Potter and Weasley. So, I need some better equipment."
"Better equipment?"
A hint of scrutiny appeared in Lucius's grey-blue eyes.
Draco hesitated.
"It's a Firebolt..."
"A Firebolt?"
Lucius raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I seem to remember that I already donated seven Nimbus 2001s to Slytherin. Who at the school has a Firebolt?"
"Potter!"
Draco hurriedly answered.
"He somehow got a Firebolt a few days ago, and he's already won several matches with it. So I thought..."
The young master's words trailed off, but his meaning was perfectly clear.
He wanted one too.
Lucius remained silent for a long time.
Draco grew increasingly uneasy.
Then Lucius suddenly asked:
"Draco, why do you think I sponsored seven Nimbus 2001s for Slytherin in the first place?"
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