For the next few weeks, Draco was in poor spirits and felt no joy whatsoever.
It was not that he had any problems with his studies. In fact, the first year curriculum was rather tedious for him. Since the start of term, he had been doing well academically, and even the professors who were unkind to him in his previous life had become relatively lenient with him.
The most notable example was Professor McGonagall. Although she was strict and traditional and did not particularly favor Slytherins, she would still give him an Outstanding on a well written Transfiguration essay, an honor that previously belonged only to Hermione Granger, the know it all.
As for interpersonal relationships, it was nothing more than the same old Slytherin dynamics: bloodline, family background, and a contest of ability. The first years quickly used these criteria to rank themselves and decide who got to sit closer to the front of the Great Hall.
Most relationships among Slytherins developed from feigned friendliness and sharp tongued probing, interspersed with fragile childhood friendships and tiny, fleeting moments of genuine sincerity.
This was the kind of relationship Draco was familiar with, far more so than the straightforward and passionate one found in Gryffindor. He could thrive in Slytherin if he wished to.
Based on his understanding of his Slytherin classmates from his previous life, Draco made friends within the house at an astonishing speed.
His intimate knowledge of his Slytherin classmates, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Marcus Flint, and others, made him virtually invincible in social situations.
His sleep problems were also somewhat properly addressed. He managed to obtain Dreamless Sleep Potion from Madam Pomfrey, thanks to his innocent appearance, clever flattery, and polite manner.
That potion could not be taken too often. The misuse of any magical potion carried risks. At this point, the uncommon yet exquisite magical art of Occlumency demonstrated its unparalleled practical value. Using this technique, he froze and hid his terrifying memories of his past life and some emotions he could not bear.
It is rather self deceptive, is it not? He smiled mockingly at the pale boy in the mirror. But at least I can get a decent night's sleep.
Admittedly, such methods did not solve the fundamental problem, but for Draco, finding even a little peace and tranquility within himself, and thus getting restful sleep, was more important than anything else.
However, amidst these seemingly smooth sailing days, Draco was gripped by a prolonged and intense anxiety. The challenge he had been attempting to overcome had reached a bottleneck.
The experiment to talk to the Bloody Baron or the Grey Lady had stalled.
Although she appeared gentle, beautiful, delicate, and graceful, the Grey Lady was notoriously unapproachable. She ignored everyone except a handful of Ravenclaw students.
Draco probably went to the vicinity of Ravenclaw Tower every day to try his luck, which was not easy for a Slytherin. It took considerable effort to avoid those perceptive Ravenclaw students.
However, every time he painstakingly appeared before the Grey Lady, he was treated like a monster.
The moment she saw students from an unfamiliar house, she would flutter away like a startled bird, disappearing into the morning mist or twilight, either to the other side of a wall or through a pillar.
As for the Baron, the Slytherin ghost on whom Draco had placed high hopes, he had returned to his vacant stare.
He ignored Draco's repeated attempts to befriend him, humming and moaning obliviously in the Astronomy Tower, completely absorbed in his own melancholy world.
His conversation at the feast two months ago seemed to have been merely a fleeting illusion.
All of this made Draco feel discouraged.
It could not be said that there had been no progress at all. At least, the Baron had grown accustomed to Draco's presence in the Astronomy Tower and was not averse to him.
The Baron often stared at Ravenclaw Tower, sadly calling Helena's name repeatedly, without any attempt to hide it from Draco.
This was not easy for a ghost. Most ghosts were extremely sensitive and had deep seated obsessions, and they were not particularly easy to approach. Moreover, this was not an ordinary ghost, but the Bloody Baron, whom even Peeves could not afford to offend.
However, for Draco, enjoying this preferential treatment tacitly granted by the Baron brought far more pain than pleasure.
He had always been wary of the Astronomy Tower, and he had even considered avoiding it.
This place always reminded him of the complicated memories of his past life, plunging him into complex and indescribable sadness.
Among them, the most difficult memory to face was probably that murder, that killing, and the death of Dumbledore that completely changed the course of his life.
This place could be considered the most ominous spot in all of Hogwarts.
Draco wished he could stay as far away from this place as possible, but he had no other choice. The questions about the diadem urgently needed to be resolved.
He could only suppress his fear and unease, repeatedly coming here to encounter this ghost who was immersed in his own world, attempting to obtain some information from the Baron.
At least the Baron would not run away. He would stand obediently in the tower. That alone made him much more approachable than the Grey Lady. Draco comforted himself with this thought.
The wind on the tower grew colder day by day, and the weather gradually turned colder.
When Draco woke up early in the morning, he smelled the sweet and tempting aroma of roasted pumpkin wafting through the corridor, which meant that Halloween was just around the corner at Hogwarts.
Just as in his previous life, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms class that the students could now practice the Levitation Charm.
Hermione Granger, as always, was the first student in the class to make a feather float, earning bonus points from Professor Flitwick. Ron next to her, on the other hand, looked as dark as the bottom of a cauldron, clearly very dissatisfied.
Draco sat directly opposite them, across the open space in the center of the classroom. He silently watched the girl across from him for a while. She was like a smug cat, her head held high with pride, waving her wand to control the only feather floating above the classroom, determined to ignore everyone.
So he also raised his own feather and joined the collection of feathers flying in the air.
"Very good! Mr Malfoy did an excellent job too!" Professor Flitwick said happily, bowing his head to continue instructing Potter and Finnigan, whose feathers had caught fire.
Hermione found the boy's feather truly annoying. Her feather was floating peacefully in the air, but his feather simply had to come and interfere with it, blocking its path.
She manipulated the feather, making it fly higher, and his feather flew higher too. She wanted it to fly lower, and his feather blocked its way from below. Her feather dodged left and right, and his feather followed suit, circling left and right...
Hermione glared angrily at him, but he stared intently at the ceiling, appearing focused on practicing.
Draco was indeed practicing the spell very diligently. He was no longer as arrogant as he had been in his previous life, thinking the spell was simple and taking it lightly. He absolutely did not want to experience the same disastrous OWL exam in fifth year again, when he had dropped his floating glass, shattered it into pieces, and been seen and ridiculed by Potter, a truly humiliating moment.
Of course, he did have ulterior motives.
Why does this ungrateful girl repeatedly ignore me? After that incident on the stairs, she seems even angrier, never giving me a second glance again, refusing to be my partner in class, and avoiding me like Bubotuber pus.
Even Potter can now smile at me, but Hermione still avoids me like the plague.
Are we destined to be enemies, unable to even be ordinary friends? Draco sighed slightly, glanced at the little girl opposite him whose face was flushed with anger. She was probably about to snap her wand in her hand. He stopped his mischievous feather teasing.