HP+ Miss Malfoy has green eyes

It had been six years since the last Hogwarts owl visited the Malfoy home.

Finally, once again, the long-lost owl came in with the Hogwarts notice.

The girl who already knew a little about the magic world has received more than a dozen such letters in a row. The new ones were just thrown aside after she untied the belt, and she even had time to stretch out her fingers. Going over to stroke the owl's head, Draco saw that she had been petting the owl's head and asked her, "Do you like them? If you do, we can go and buy one."

"No," she pouted, "I'm just thinking about how the wizards train them. I always feel that it's not reliable to give the letter to the owl."

She always has some weird ideas.

Draco thought, but he was also very strange, "Usually we receive such letters when we are ten years old. But why did you receive it at this time?"

She shook her head, making a shoulder-shrug gesture commonly used by Americans, "Maybe it's because owls can't cross the ocean after all."

"Don't do this pose." He couldn't help but persuade her.

It's not like a lady at all.

"When it comes to admission," she said, "I should need a wand and a textbook if I'm going to be in."

Yes, by now she didn't have her own wand.

"But..." He wanted to say that the Dark Lord might not let you go, but he kept his mouth shut.

She waved her left hand quickly on her right a few times, and the wallet he once gave her appeared in her open hand, "Come out shopping with me."

"What kind of magic is this?" he asked her.

"Cheating, the little magic of Muggles, it's very good to play with." She laughed again, "Come out shopping with me."

He had a good word stuck in his throat, and he wanted to say it very much, but the remaining reason told him that he didn't have the right to do this.

"I want a wand, only mine." She said seriously.

"None of those are good enough," the Dark Lord came. "None of those in the shop are good enough. You can't pick a good thing out of a pile of rubbish."

"But if I like it, it's the best," she said, "and you told me all wands would obey me if I was strong enough."

"So I think you can wait a little longer, my lady," he looked at her, "the best one will eventually be yours."

"No," she shook her head, "I want one, I only believe in mine, I only want mine, and I also like it. As for whether it is the best, I really don't care."

If there were any people in the world who the Dark Lord felt helpless, this girl would definitely be number one.

She absolutely definitely ranks ahead of Harry Potter.

He sighed, "Okay, you go, Draco, you go with her."

Draco took her to Knockturn Alley ignorantly, and finally remembered an important thing, "Did he allow you to go to Hogwarts with me?"

"I don't know." The girl walked leisurely beside him, looking at all kinds of strange people walking around. She was obviously more curious than afraid of the huge werewolves, and she was even rude. I have been staring at people, but fortunately it is daytime, so there is no problem after all.

After a long time, she said, "I always feel that he won't object to anything I want to do."

Draco thought so too.

When they entered Ollivander's wand shop, the indifferent shopkeeper greeted them rarely, "Long time no see." But he couldn't help looking at the girl beside him.

As soon as her emerald-colored eyes stopped at the man, the shopkeeper was stunned immediately, and after a while, he couldn't help but ask, "Ma'am?"

"Long time no see?" she said.

The person on the opposite side was stunned for a while, and finally laughed, "Miss is just joking with me."

"I have a question that has troubled me for a long time." The girl turned her head to the side, "Why do you all call her Madam instead of Madam Malfoy?" She looked at the shopkeeper, who smiled awkwardly after a while, "Miss... ..."

"Miss Malfoy," she said, "I'm not like her."

"Yes, Miss Malfoy," said the innkeeper, "are you here to exchange a wand? What happened to your old wand?"

"I don't have a wand," she said, looking at the high pile of little boxes in the store. "I know a wand is made of many things, but I want a faithful wand, and there is only one in my life." Master's wand, can you give me?"

"You..." The shopkeeper looked at her in surprise, "Your mother is..."

"Christina Malfoy." She cleared her throat. "For almost fifteen years, she never told me and my brother that we were two wizards."

"Oh..." The shopkeeper couldn't help but yelled, but he didn't know how to say it, "This, this is really..."

Vera stood there waiting for him for a while, "I know this may not be desirable," she said, her eyes shining brightly on him, "I know that the wand will choose its master again in duel and failure. , but if I add something of my own to it, does that make my wand do my bidding?"

"My dear lady," said the shopkeeper seriously, "I never make this kind of wand. I think real wands should have a powerful core and the right wood, and they should choose the owner they like. If they don't That way, they'll lose their best effect, and," he paused, "Miss Malfoy," the word seemed a bit difficult for him to pronounce, "your mother asked when she got her first wand. I asked a similar question to me, and she said that if she can use many people's wands, there should be someone who can use hers, so what makes someone sure that her wand is only hers?"

"What's your answer?" She looked at him.

"I told her, miss, you may be able to use many people's wands, but the most suitable wand will exert its greatest effect in your hands."

Vera knew she couldn't convince him.

Wizards replace their wands after losing them, and they can always find new ones, so the relationship between wands and their owners should not be that strong. After all, people can always find new wands.

Thinking of this, she smiled and said, "Sir, you convinced me, please help me find the most suitable wand for me."

Ollivander laughed. "Please tell me your name, miss."

"Vera, Vera Malfoy." She has the same brilliant blond hair as Draco Malfoy, and the two of them look vaguely similar when standing together. Ollivander has already sold four magic wands to him in a row. People of her mother's side, from her grandmother and her grandmother's brother, to her mother, and now her.

He had to lament the rumor that they may have Veela blood in the legend-in his opinion, all of this is very likely to be true.

Most men will fall in love with her almost crazily, she is so beautiful that people can't bear to say no.

But what he admired the most was the similarity between this young lady and his grandmother.

The Miss Somo.

They have the same shiny deep emerald green eyes, shiny blond hair, they speak softly and kindly, and they are inseparable from their brothers wherever they go.

Oh, poor Miss Sommers.

her brother...

Speaking of which, "Miss, where is your brother?" He couldn't help asking while measuring the length of her arm.She turned her head, "He's not in good health, I thought my mother would bring him here before I come."

"Not yet." He regretted asking this question a bit, "Miss, let me measure your height."

"You are almost 14 years old, and when other children come to me to buy wands, they need to add a little more to them, lest they grow taller in the future." While writing the numbers, he continued, "Miss, Come on, are you right-handed?"

The girl nodded and straightened her body.

He has collected the data.

"Based on what I know about your family, miss, I usually think that you and your brothers are likely to choose the tail feathers of the phoenix. Maybe because of the twins, you always choose the twin cores."

Speaking of this, he remembered that her mother had a brother who didn't even have a name.

The other wand was still in his shop.

"You mean," she said with sudden glee, "that there's a good chance I'll see my brother's wand before he comes over, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then let's try it quickly." She cheered up. "I want to touch his wand before he does."

Ollivander rarely thought of his daughter.

He softened his voice, "Miss, are you really so happy?"

"I've never been exposed to magic," she said nonchalantly, "I always thought I was what Muggles call special abilities," she laughed, "but I never thought I was a witch."