Malfoy was taken aback by Wentworth’s statement, causing him a momentary pause.
While Wentworth’s viewpoint contradicted what his father had ingrained in him, Malfoy found himself at a loss for a counterargument, as what Wentworth said seemed logically sound.
Though he hadn’t personally witnessed it, the name “Unforgivable Curse” held some recognition for Malfoy.
He acknowledged that possessing pure-blood status wouldn’t render him invulnerable to curses.
“So, what defines nobility, then?” Malfoy, puzzled by the contradiction, inquired.
“Strength, undoubtedly. Regardless of one’s background, the most potent magical ability establishes one’s nobility in the wizarding world,” Wentworth asserted.
Malfoy’s eyes lit up, contemplating this perspective. “I think I’m starting to grasp your point. It’s akin to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, right?”
With a roll of his eyes and a touch of exasperation, Wentworth replied, “I’m talking about Professor Dumbledore! Albus Professor Dumbledore!”
Before Malfoy could pursue the conversation, Professor Dumbledore’s voice interrupted them from behind, startling both boys.
“What are you boys talking about?”
As they turned around, they found Professor Dumbledore, Minister Fudge, and Mr. Malfoy returning.
“Wentworth here told me that pure-blood doesn’t necessarily denote nobility!” Malfoy’s words hung in the air, prompting Mr. Malfoy to frown.
“Even though he’s a pure-blood himself,” Malfoy continued.
Curiosity gripped the others, and their eyes turned to Wentworth, awaiting further explanation.
Mr. Malfoy eventually inquired, “So, what defines nobility?”
Malfoy answered on behalf of Wentworth, “Strength. As Wentworth explained, much like Professor Dumbledore, possessing the strongest magical prowess in the world makes one the most noble.”
As Malfoy spoke, the atmosphere shifted subtly.
Minister Fudge’s expression soured slightly while Mr. Malfoy appeared to recall something, a tinge of apprehension flickering in his gaze.
Professor Dumbledore, however, regarded Wentworth with a knowing gaze.
An odd ambiance enveloped the scene in the ensuing time until the match’s conclusion.
After the game’s conclusion and as attendees began to disperse, Malfoy unexpectedly posed a question.
“Wentworth, can we be friends?”
Caught off guard, Wentworth’s face stiffened momentarily.
Observing the expectant gazes of Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Malfoy, and the others, he awkwardly nodded, “Of course, we’re friends now.”
A grin spread across Malfoy’s face, and Wentworth couldn’t help but reflect that the current Malfoy was, after all, still a child.
A few exchanged words and witnessing a Quidditch match was enough to kindle a sense of friendship.
Had it not been for his father’s influence, Malfoy might not have been entirely absorbed in pure-blood superiority.
Malfoy’s excitement manifested as he exclaimed, “Since we’re friends, can you gift me one of the Golden Snitches you captured tonight? You mentioned that you share Golden Snitches with friends.”
Wentworth’s expression turned strained, internally acknowledging Malfoy’s predictability.
Despite his reluctance, the combined “kind” expressions around him compelled Wentworth to reluctantly retrieve a Golden Snitch from his pocket and offer it to Malfoy.
As Malfoy gleefully accepted the Golden Snitch, Wentworth couldn’t help but add with a sense of anticipation, “Malfoy, I hope you’ll arrive at Hogwarts sooner. I’d be delighted to host you.”
Afterward, Professor Dumbledore and Wentworth left the scene amidst a jovial atmosphere.
As they watched Professor Dumbledore and Wentworth depart, Mr. Malfoy and the others breathed relief.
Observing Malfoy happily engaged with the Snitch, Mrs. Malfoy affectionately stroked her son’s hair and inquired, “Malfoy, is this new friend of yours also from a pure-blood family? Which family does he belong to? I’ve not encountered him before.”
Mr. Malfoy, curious as well, approached Malfoy, seeking information.
Malfoy responded with a puzzled glance, answering, “Don’t you think that pure-blood families are limited to England? Though he resides here, he originally hails from Austria.”
Recognition dawned on Mrs. Malfoy’s face, while Mr. Malfoy, upon hearing the name Austria, assumed a contemplative expression.
He then turned to Malfoy with a stern countenance, prompting Malfoy’s attention.
“What kind of expression are you wearing, Draco?” Mr. Malfoy inquired with a hint of exasperation.
Startled, Malfoy hastily wiped the teasing smile off his face and adopted a more solemn demeanor.
Mr. Malfoy persisted, “What’s his surname?”
Looking slightly flustered, Malfoy realized he had neglected to inquire about Wentworth’s surname. “I… I forgot to ask!”
Malfoy’s response did little to alleviate Mr. Malfoy’s frustration.
Sensing the unresolved matter, Mrs. Malfoy interjected with a questioning expression.
Observing the exchange, Mr. Malfoy’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly as he muttered, “It’s nothing, just a nagging feeling that something is amiss. Forget it; let’s head home.”
Mrs. Malfoy offered Mr. Malfoy a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and the trio departed.
Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore led Wentworth to the outskirts of Hogwarts Castle. “Apparate within the castle is forbidden, so this is as far as we can go.”
Wentworth acknowledged the restriction with a nod.
“Would you like to give your broom another whirl? Ride it in?”
Professor Dumbledore’s inquiry came with a smile, gesturing towards the Firebolt clutched in Wentworth’s hand.
“Professor Dumbledore, aside from the Quidditch pitch, are students generally not allowed to use broomsticks within Hogwarts?” Wentworth questioned, his eyes wide with curiosity.
Professor Dumbledore’s gaze took on a playful glint. “In theory, yes. But by now, I’d imagine most of the professors are asleep.”
Wentworth rolled his eyes instinctively, declining Professor Dumbledore’s offer, “I appreciate it, but I hadn’t intended to fly the broom myself.”
Observing the Firebolt, Professor Dumbledore inquired, “Then what are your plans for it?”
“Isn’t it a splendid Christmas present?” Wentworth replied with a smile.
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