It has to be said that Apparition is a very wonderful experience. The feeling is like squeezing the whole body through a very narrow rubber tube. Powerful forces from all directions squeeze his body. Originally, Malfoy's choice was Floo Powder or a car, but the experience of these two may not be much better than Apparition. The former would make him look dusty, his throat and nasal cavity filled with coal ash, while the latter would consume a lot of time, and he might encounter bumps with a driver who was not skilled.
Just right, Malfoy also needed to practice this spell a bit more, so he still chose Apparition.
This was also the greatest distance Malfoy had ever Apparated. He had already experimented with short-distance Apparition many times on his own, and taking this opportunity to improve his proficiency was also a good choice.
As for the issue with splinching, making a mistake once was enough. Falling in the same place was not Malfoy's habit. Since the wand confiscation incident, the problem of splinching had been solved by him.
Taking a few deep breaths and calming his racing heart and somewhat dizzy brain, Malfoy looked around. At this moment, he was standing in a small square. In the center of the square was a messy and desolate patch of grass, and most of the houses located on the side had their curtains drawn tightly, avoiding the prying eyes of others.
It was the moment when the sun was shining brightly. The dazzling sunlight passed through the thin clouds, coating the nearby old buildings with a faint golden color.
Walking along the wide, deserted street, Malfoy looked at the surrounding houses, most of which were dilapidated and in disrepair. The entrances of almost every household were filled with various kinds of garbage, and many of the doors were covered with strange graffiti.
"It really is desolate." Malfoy looked at the surrounding scenery and sighed. "Where did Dobby go? Didn't I tell him to wait here?" Malfoy frowned, continuing to walk forward while scanning the street with his eyes.
A light pink parasol suddenly entered his eyes. The person under the umbrella was looking down at him. It was a girl Malfoy was very familiar with. The two looked at each other, and the girl put on a giggling expression.
Today, Pansy was wearing a light white pleated dress, with a light pink domed gauze sun hat on her head, embroidered with a delicate handmade flower. Usually, she wore a uniform female wizard robe at school. Rarely encountering a vacation, Pansy naturally would not give up the opportunity to dress herself up.
Looking at the girl who was almost dressed to the nines, Malfoy almost immediately guessed that Narcissa was behind it, and suddenly understood why she insisted on forcing him to stay at home for another day, just to "tip her off."
Narcissa was particularly concerned about bringing this matter together. In just a few short days after the start of the holiday, she didn't know how many times she had subtly hinted at this issue.
"Oh, it looks like I went the wrong way." Malfoy pretended not to see her, then perfunctorily glanced at the house in front of him, muttering to himself, his voice just loud enough for Pansy to hear, then turned around and walked in the opposite direction.
"Draco, where are you going!" Pansy panicked when she saw Malfoy turn around and leave. She immediately wanted to follow, but forgot that she was now standing on the top level of the stone steps. She stepped on air, and her body lost control of its balance, and she was about to fall down.
"Ah!" A panicked and sharp cry came from Pansy's throat. Her left hand was still pulling a black suitcase, and her right hand was holding an umbrella. Both hands that could maintain balance were occupied,
making her face lose its color immediately.
Just when Pansy thought she would fall down the steps, a gentle force suddenly held her up, making her feel at ease. Her feet slowly made contact with the ground, and then she stood firm.
"I knew you wouldn't pretend not to see me, Draco." At this moment, Pansy had returned to the flat ground, looking at the indifferent Malfoy with an innocent look.
"I'm not here on vacation, Pansy." Malfoy knew that he couldn't pretend to be stupid anymore, so he could only try to say to Pansy in a serious tone, hoping that she would back down in the face of difficulties, but even Malfoy himself understood that this was impossible.
This girl sometimes always shows a stubbornness that is not appropriate for her age.
Sure enough, Pansy's eyes were now covered with a thin layer of mist, looking at Malfoy with pitiful eyes and saying, "I ran away from home this time, you will definitely take me in, right?"
Tears are always a major weapon for women, but Malfoy was already immune to them. He already had enough experience to distinguish when it was fake crying and when it was real crying.
"Is that so?" Malfoy looked at Pansy with a suspicious gaze, and then suddenly heard the sound of fluttering wings behind him. An owl flew straight towards them.
"I remember that the owls in your house should all be of this breed." Malfoy glanced at the owl, then glanced at Pansy, and then said.
This was a short-eared owl, small in size and not suitable for transporting large items. Sure enough, there was only a letter tied to its claws. Malfoy took the letter from its claws, then stretched out his hand and released the owl back into the sky.
"Don't look!" Pansy hurriedly reached out to grab the letter, but Malfoy held the letter high, then opened it and read the letter with his head raised. The height disadvantage made it difficult for her to achieve this goal.
"Are you sure you ran away from home?" Malfoy quickly scanned the contents of the letter, and the content made him laugh a little.
"Consider it barely so. How would you agree if I didn't say it was miserable?" Pansy lowered her head, looking at the stone ground under her feet, repeatedly raising her toes and then relaxing, doing mechanically repetitive movements.
Malfoy didn't know what to say now. He originally hoped that this was a letter from Pansy's father, urging her to go back quickly, but only half of it was correct. The identity was correct, but the main idea expressed in the letter was to ask Malfoy to take good care of Pansy.
"Your father really trusts me." Malfoy looked at Pansy, feeling a little collapsed inside. Putting himself in his shoes, if he were a father, he would never allow this kind of thing to happen.
Afterwards, Malfoy didn't have time to continue thinking about it, and then he felt his heel being hit hard. He turned his head to look, and found that there was no one behind him, until he looked down, he saw Dobby behind him, trembling and shivering, holding an envelope in his hand.
"Dobby is late! Please forgive Master Malfoy!" Dobby said nervously, on his brown-red ugly face, those extraordinarily large brown eyes revealed a look of fear, and his large tomato-like nose couldn't help but wrinkle.
However, Dobby still tried his best to restrain his emotions, and then stretched out his still trembling hand, "This is a letter from Madam for you."
Pansy looked as if she had seen a savior, and immediately raised her head again, looking forward to Malfoy's next performance.
With a "whoosh!" sound, Malfoy didn't even have the patience to open the letter, and directly ignited it.
The entire letter burst into a fireball and quickly burned out.
Just as a breeze blew, these ashes were blown away.
Pansy's face turned pale again, her savior, whom she had been waiting for so eagerly, had been dismissed like this.
Before she could say anything, Dobby began to scream: "Master Malfoy burned Madam's letter, Master Malfoy burned Madam's letter, Dobby is sorry for Madam's trust, Dobby is sorry for Madam's trust, Dobby must punish himself!"
Then he lunged headfirst towards the steps.
"I order you to immediately stop your self-harming behavior, Dobby," Malfoy said casually, and Pansy saw Dobby forcibly stop his momentum.
"But Dobby made a mistake," Dobby immediately turned around, looking at Malfoy with his big, tearful eyes.
"I burned it only because I completely guessed what my mother wrote in the letter, it has nothing to do with you," Malfoy was also very helpless with this kind of creature who resorted to self-harm at every turn.
This one at least had a bit of a spirit of pursuing freedom and some other pursuits; if it were others, he didn't even dare to imagine what would happen next.
"As for you," Malfoy's gaze then landed on Pansy.
The difference in aura between the two was like that between a judge and a prisoner, with Pansy being the one waiting for sentencing.
Looking at Pansy's pitiful appearance of awaiting her fate, even knowing that ninety percent of it was an act, Malfoy still couldn't bring himself to be cruel.
He could only sigh and say, "You win."
Sure enough, upon hearing that Malfoy was still accommodating her, the sad expression on Pansy's face immediately disappeared, revealing a joyful look, and a bright smile bloomed on her small face.
"But," Malfoy continued, "after you go in, you can't touch things randomly..."
Now that he had accepted this reality, Malfoy could only start telling Pansy what she should pay attention to.
Looking at Pansy's joyful smile, Malfoy also felt a slight fluctuation in his heart: "Maybe this isn't so bad," Malfoy said to himself.
Then the two of them re-ascended the stone steps, stepping up step by step.
"What did you put in your luggage?" Malfoy asked curiously, feeling that the black trunk was very heavy.
"Food and supplies, of course," Pansy replied matter-of-factly.
While the two were talking, they had already reached the top of the steps, arriving at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
In front of this house was a dilapidated door, the black paint on it perhaps peeling off due to time, covered with scratches left and right.
The silver door knocker was in the shape of a coiled serpent.
There was no keyhole or mailbox on the door.
The ancestral home of the Black family was not under a protection spell at this time, so it had not yet been hidden; those spells were only aimed at Muggles.
Malfoy drew his wand and tried knocking on the door, making some dull sounds.
Just as he was about to use magic to force it open, he suddenly heard a loud clanging sound of metal parts colliding and the rattling of chains, and the door opened in response.
Then Pansy and Malfoy, with the help of the light outside the door, saw a house-elf standing in front of them.
Even though Dobby looked ugly enough, Pansy thought that the house-elf in front of her was a hundred times uglier than Dobby.
Except for a dirty rag around his waist, this house-elf was almost completely naked.
His head was bald, and a large amount of white hair grew out of his two bat-like ears.
His eyes were bloodshot and gray, and his fleshy nose was very large.
He looked very old.
"For the first time, I think Dobby is quite handsome," Pansy whispered to Malfoy.
Before Malfoy could reply to Pansy, Dobby excitedly started rolling on the ground, muttering: "Dobby received praise! Dobby received praise!"
Malfoy had no time to care about Dobby.
He was now carefully examining the house-elf in front of him.
Without a doubt, the elf that would appear in the Black ancestral home could only be Kreacher.
"As expected, there are guests," Kreacher said, bending over, using his hoarse, low, frog-like voice, his bloodshot eyes staring straight at the two people in front of him.
"All noble pure-bloods," Kreacher's spirits lifted, his eyes filled with fanaticism, muttering to himself.
"Honorable guests, may I ask your names?" Kreacher seemed to have thought of something, straightened his hunched back, and bowed to the two, performing a standard aristocratic etiquette.
"My last master has disappeared, the last heir of the Black family has vanished, so, please guests bear with being served by a lowly house-elf, please allow me to introduce myself, you can call me Kreacher," Kreacher continued with a melancholy expression.
"My name is Draco Malfoy, and my mother is also a member of the Black family, so strictly speaking, I am not a guest," Malfoy squatted down, trying to talk to Kreacher at the same height, looking the house-elf in the eye.
"Are you Miss Narcissa's son?!" Kreacher asked tentatively.
His already large eyes bulged even more, as if they would pop out at any moment.
"Yes," Malfoy nodded.
House-elves were quite sensitive in this regard; they naturally had a way of distinguishing so-called bloodlines, perhaps it was an instinct engraved in their blood.
"She is the only member of the Black family that Kreacher still respects!" Kreacher said excitedly.
"That is the true aristocratic demeanor, it's a pity, if she were to inherit the Black family, how wonderful it would be, then the past glory of the Black family would surely radiate its due brilliance again under her leadership! Instead of being ruined by a scoundrel who should be nailed to the pillory!" Kreacher shouted in an unusually shrill voice, the more he spoke, the more excited his expression became.
"Master Black was a nasty, ungrateful, low-down scoundrel, he broke his mother's heart—" Remembering his former master, Kreacher continued to mutter to himself nervously, Pansy looked at him as if she were treating a madman, and took a few steps back somewhat timidly.
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