The dining room of Malfoy Manor gleamed with quiet luxury. Morning light filtered through tall windows, casting golden streaks across the polished silverware and snow-white tablecloth. Lucius sat at the head of the table, reading the Daily Prophet, his expression unreadable. Narcissa sipped tea gracefully, her back perfectly straight, eyes occasionally flicking to the two boys seated at either side of her.
Cassian Malfoy, six years old, sat to Lucius' right. He was silent, composed, cutting his eggs with the precision of someone far older. Across from him, Draco, a curly-haired toddler with the same platinum-blond hair, fidgeted with his spoon, occasionally poking at his porridge like it had personally offended him.
"Cassian," Lucius said without looking up from his paper, "you will need to be presentable by this weekend. We are attending the Selwyns' summer estate gathering. Old blood families only."
Cassian blinked, keeping his tone neutral. "Of course, Father. What's the occasion?"
"Nothing you need concern yourself with yet," Lucius replied curtly. "But it's important to be seen. Connections begin early. Especially for you."
Draco suddenly tossed his spoon onto the floor with a clatter, earning a sharp look from Lucius and a soft scolding from Narcissa. "Darling, we've talked about that."
"I don't want to go to a boring party," he declared loudly. "I want to stay home!"
"You'll do as you're told," Lucius said sharply, folding his paper with a snap. "You are a Malfoy. Malfoys do not throw tantrums."
"But Cassian doesn't—!"
"Cassian," Lucius interrupted, "knows how to behave."
Draco scowled at him, but it lacked any real bite. Narcissa, ever graceful, wiped her mouth and stood.
"Enough. Breakfast is over. Both of you—clean up, and Cassian, your tutor will arrive shortly."
Cassian nodded, sliding down from his chair. "Yes, Mother."
Draco mumbled something under his breath and followed, only to trip on the rug and fall flat on his face. Narcissa rushed to help him, gently scolding, while Lucius pretended not to notice. Cassian just sighed.
The Selwyn summer estate was nothing short of extravagant. A sweeping manor of dark stone and towering spires, surrounded by glimmering lakes and whispering trees charmed to always sway, even when there was no wind. Peacocks with jeweled feathers strolled about like they owned the place.
Cassian stood beside his father as they entered the ballroom. He wore tailored emerald dress robes with silver embroidery tracing up the cuffs and collar like vines. A small silver snake pin held the fabric at his shoulder, the family crest gleaming with quiet menace. Lucius had ordered the robes months in advance from Twilfitt and Tatting's in Diagon Alley, insisting that his son be dressed like an heir should.
Draco, who toddled beside their mother, wore a smaller, puffier version of Cassian's outfit. The boy looked like a brooding doll, pouting at everything and everyone.
Cassian took in the lavish room, the hovering lights, and the soft music drifting from the corner. His eyes landed on a small group of children his age, all clustered around a levitating game board with fluttering cards.
In his past life, socializing had been awkward at best and dangerous at worst. He had grown up dodging fists, not playdates. Here, in this gilded world, he didn't need to be charming. He just had to behave.
A boy with messy black curls and a sharp smirk turned to him. "You're Cassian, right? Malfoy's heir?"
Cassian nodded. "That's right. And you are?"
"Alden Rosier. That's Callista Mulciber," he said, pointing to a girl in deep violet robes with silver moons stitched into the hem, "and he's Cygnus Avery."
Cygnus waved, clutching a chocolate frog with half of it already smeared on his sleeve.
"Hi!" he said through a mouthful of sugar. "You wanna play with us? The cards yell at you when you lose."
Cassian gave a slight smile. "Sure. Why not?"
He sat beside them on the floating cushions and picked up a card. The game rules were simple enough, even if the cards screamed dramatic insults when you placed them wrong. 'You absolute dunderhead!' one shouted as Cygnus fumbled.
"I like your robes," Callista said, looking at his snake pin.
"Father had them made for me," Cassian replied. "Said I should look the part."
Alden leaned in. "My dad says you're already learning Latin spells. Is that true?"
Cassian shrugged. "Some words. I won't get a wand until Hogwarts, though."
Callista's eyes sparkled. "I can't wait to get mine! Do you think we'll get sorted into Slytherin like our parents?"
"Probably," Alden said. "Unless someone's too dumb and ends up in Hufflepuff."
Cassian didn't respond. His gaze flicked to the glowing chandeliers above.
He was four years older than Draco, and already being paraded as a prodigy. The moment he had shown signs of early speech and memory, the Malfoy tutors were summoned. And he performed. Always.
Not because he cared what Lucius thought, but because it would bring him closer to what he truly wanted.
‚Control. Power. The kind I never hadin my old life.'
Draco waddled over mid-thought, tugging at Cassian's robes.
"I want a cookie," he whined.
"Then go ask the elf," Cassian replied, deadpan.
Draco blinked, then trotted off.
Alden snorted. "Your brother's kinda weird."
Cassian didn't argue.