Ding-dong!
"Dobby, answer the door!" Narcissa commanded.
True to his word, Dobby obeyed, even though he didn't have to. Draco sighed in relief. His father looked at him inquiringly.
"I was getting hungry," Draco told him in a whisper and Lucius Malfoy whispered back, "Patience is a virtue."
Dobby entered the room followed by the guest family.
"Dobby presents the Parkinsons."
The three Malfoys rose and waited for the Parkinsons to take their places. Mrs. Parkinson took her place beside Narcissa Malfoy while her daughter, Pansy, stood across from her mother, next to Draco. Mr. Parkinson's seat was on Draco's other side which was across from Lucius Malfoy's seat.
By this time, Dobby had gone to the kitchen and come back with the appetizer.
"The appetizer," he announced, "Caesar salad supreme."
He set the plates in front of the Parkinsons first, followed by the Malfoys, in the order of youngest to oldest in each family.
Draco stuck his fork into one of the garlic croutons that topped the salad and spun it around in the creamy, anchovy-filled dressing before taking his bite.
On his left side, the women and Pansy were discussing the latest fashion trends while on his right side, the men were discussing Quidditch.
Soon, the main dish had been served: baked teriyaki chicken. Draco noticed that his father had dropped his voice to a lower volume, and so had Mr. Parkinson.
Draco pretended to be absorbed in his food while he listened to the men converse about something they would not have wanted someone Draco's age to know.
"What is the plan for this year?" Mr. Parkinson asked.
"Last year, the Lord proposed that should Quirrell not be able to find the stone, I should give his old diary to an innocent young girl."
"The Dark Lord is always prepared for the worst. But why does he have a diary?"
"It appeared to be empty at first. But I dropped a bit of ink on a page, and the next moment, the ink had vanished. So I wrote, 'I am Lucius Malfoy.' The reply was, 'Hello, Lucius, my dear friend. I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.'"
Mr. Parkinson's eyes grew wide. "So he had preserved himself in a book?"
"It seems so. I then wrote, 'I am a follower now. My task is to give this book to an innocent girl.' He replied, 'Good. Make sure that this goes to a pureblood who is somewhat close to Harry Potter.'"
Draco froze mid-bite. He regained composure quickly and proceeded to eat again.
Mr. Parkinson asked Lucius, "What do you propose the purpose of this is?"
"I asked him the same question myself and he wrote that we would all see soon enough."
"What could he mean by that?"
"I do not know. I decided to close the book and hide it."
The conversation ended just in time for a desert of black magic cake.
How ironic, Draco thought. Black magic.
Mrs. Parkinson asked Narcissa, "When do you suppose the Hogwarts letters will arrive?"
"Tomorrow, or perhaps in the next few days."
"Pansy's so excited to return to school, aren't you?"
"Yes, Mother," the second year beside Draco replied. "I cannot wait to see Millicent. She owled me yesterday to say that she'd gotten a haircut!"
Draco tried not to roll his eyes.
"Well, that sounds wonderful," Mrs. Parkinson said. "And how about you, Draco? Are you excited?"
Draco hated talking to adults like Mrs. Parkinson, but he bit his tongue and politely answered, "I suppose so. I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is going to be."
"I heard, from the Ministry, that Gilderoy Lockhart himself is taking up that position."
That name did not ring a bell so he asked, "I haven't heard of him."
Narcissa told Draco, "We have his complete set of books in the library. He's defeated many creatures, or so he says."
Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Books can be misleading."
Mrs. Parkinson looked shocked. "But Gilderoy would never lie about his accomplishments!"
Narcissa answered, "I suppose you're right." But Draco could tell that his mother did indeed believe that this man would lie and only agreed with Mrs. Parkinson so the conversation would end.
As the women began talking about people and society, Draco tuned in to the fathers. They, it seemed, had begun talking about Quidditch again, yet this time, it was about school Quidditch.
"Draco made the team last year," Lucius was saying. "Isn't that right, Draco?"
"Yes, Father. Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup."
"If I may," Mr. Parkinson said, "is not Terence Higgs, the former seeker, still in school?"
"He completed his seventh year last year," Lucius said.
"So why would Slytherin have tryouts if they didn't need another player?"
"Severus believed that Draco could do better and had seen him flying one day. I believe Harry Potter was chosen for Gryffindor the same way."
"Severus chose Harry Potter for Gryffindor?"
"No," Draco said. "Professor McGonagall chose him. They apparently needed a seeker."
"Draco," Lucius started, "you saw Mr. Potter nearly swallow the snitch at the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game last year, correct?"
"Yes. I admit it was quite amusing. I still cannot believe that Madam Hooch announced the snitch caught when that happened. How did you hear, Father?"
"Amelia Bones works at the Ministry and her niece, Susan, had informed her of this."
Draco chuckled, "Even the Hufflepuffs are irritated by Potter."
Surprisingly, the men chuckled, too.
Soon, the Parkinsons left, and Draco went to his room to get ready for bed. When he stepped out of the shower for the third or fourth time that day (he showered often each day in the hot summer), Dobby was waiting for him. Well, he was actually just bouncing on his bed.
"Excellent job today, Dobby," Draco told the house elf.
"Anything for Draco Malfoy. Dobby is happy to serve him."
"You know I'm not your master anymore."
"But Dobby stays true to his word."
"I am aware of that. Er, what is it you do when everyone's asleep?"
"Dobby goes to his quarters after finishing any other work he has left for the day."
"Then you can go do that. I'll be in the library for a bit before bed."
The house elf disappeared and Draco made his way to the Malfoy library.
"What was this guy's name?" he wondered aloud. "Lickherd...Luckearn...Locket...Lock-something..." He trailed off as he found the books authored by Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Wanderings with Werewolves?" he read as he picked a random book from the series. He flipped open the book to...
"Chapter Twelve," he noticed. He skimmed through and found an interesting passage that had nothing to do with werewolves:
"I prayed that the world would be safe in the event that I died. Then I realized that my birthday was coming up in a few days. My ideal birthday present, of course, would be harmony between magic and non-magic peoples. This gave me more motivation than I had before (110%, in fact, compared to the previous 100% motivation) to rid the town of the werewolf."
"How do people believe this rubbish?" Draco asked himself. Evidently, he was nothing but a fraud. Draco doubted that he'd ever seen a live werewolf before. He set the book back on the shelf and retreated to his room.
If Lockhart was his professor, he would have to learn defense tactics by himself. As if school wasn't stressful enough already.