Harry Potter: From Baldur's Gate to Hogwarts

I, Draco Malfoy, hail from the noble and ancient House of Malfoy, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. My family has a long and illustrious history in the wizarding world. My father, Lucius Malfoy, is a highly respected businessman, and my mother, Narcissa, is also of pureblood lineage from the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

From the moment I was born, I have always enjoyed the finest treatment and the best education. By the time I was eight, I could already add from one to nine. My exceptional talent greatly pleased my father, and as a reward, I received my very first allowance.

On August 1, 1991, I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter in the courtyard of our manor.

On September 1, 1991, accompanied by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, I arrived at Hogwarts. Naturally, as someone of my esteemed heritage, I was sorted into Slytherin. However, I was rather surprised to see that the so-called "Boy Who Lived," Harry Potter, ended up in that foolish Gryffindor. Judging by that, his bloodline must not be all that impressive—he's probably just another filthy half-blood.

September 2, 1991: That fool, Potter, has already started mingling with those Weasley blood-traitors. Worse still, he's befriended a Mudblood. Unacceptable! I must teach them a lesson. Just sharing the same classroom with someone so lowly is an insult—I feel sullied with every breath I take.

September 4, 1991: Word has it that Potter has disappeared. This is fantastic! I should take this opportunity to have some fun at his and his lackeys' expense.

September 6, 1991: So, Potter has returned after being gone for two days.

September 15, 1991: That dimwit Longbottom received a Remembrall today. I should find a way to snatch it... Ha! Potter was caught flying on a broom without permission, and McGonagall found out. He's done for! Hahaha... Damn it! Those useless oafs, Vincent and Gregory, couldn't even handle Potter. Not only did I get punched, but Professor Snape also deducted 100 points from Slytherin. And now, I have a month of detention! Bloody hell!

October 31, 1991: A troll showed up in the dungeons today. What a pity Dumbledore intervened—if only it had crushed Potter and that filthy Mudblood.

December 21, 1991: Nearly got beaten up by Weasley today, but that idiot fell right into my trap. Just wait and see how I'll get my revenge.

December 22, 1991: What the hell? Weasley didn't get into trouble? Could it be that the person I sent to inform Filch never actually delivered the message?

...

April 24, 1992: Haha! Caught you red-handed, Potter—keeping an illegal dragon? This is perfect! Just watch as your oafish giant of a friend gets shipped off to Azkaban. But before that happens, I'm going to savor every second of watching you seethe while being completely powerless to stop it. Hahahaha! This is too good!

May 10, 1992: Damn you, Potter! One day, I'll make you pay for every bit of humiliation you've put me through!

May 20, 1992: Damn Gryffindors! Damn Potter! Damn that filthy gamekeeper! Damn Quirrell! Just wait till my father hears about this!

...

June 8, 1992: Quirrell was a Dark wizard? Hmph. But what's really absurd is Dumbledore's latest stunt—creating some sort of Muggle Studies research institute. Who in their right mind would join such nonsense? Only an idiot would waste time on that garbage. I am a proud pureblood wizard!

...

September 5, 1992: Apparently, that so-called "institute" has officially started classes. And there are actually people attending? That's hilarious! As if learning about Muggles is useful in any way. My father told me that anything Muggles can do, magic can do better—and anything they can't do, magic can still accomplish.

September 6, 1992: Made two Gryffindor first-years cry today and roughed up a second-year Hufflepuff. What a fulfilling and enjoyable day~

...

"What a fulfilling and enjoyable day," Dumbledore murmured, sitting in his grand armchair as he reflected on the knowledge he had gleaned from secretly attending Muggle Studies classes.

Lost in thought, he sighed. "I remember a time when Muggle society looked very different... And yet, in the blink of an eye, they've surpassed the wizarding world in so many ways."

A memory from long ago slowly resurfaced in Dumbledore's mind.

Before he attended Hogwarts, he once traveled with his parents and sister to a Muggle town on an errand. It was early morning. They sat aboard a steam-powered ferry, gliding down the river through a thin veil of mist. The fog obscured the distant scenery, but up close, the oily sheen on the water was all too visible. Under the morning sun, the polluted surface shimmered in an unnatural array of colors.

Along the riverbanks, factory chimneys spewed thick, choking smoke into the sky, turning it a bleak, oppressive gray. The shore was piled high with coal dust and industrial waste, merging into the muddy banks to create a scene of desolation. A few stray birds circled overhead, searching in vain for the fish that had long since vanished from the poisoned waters.

Despite everything, the trees along the river still clung stubbornly to life, though their leaves were coated in soot, stripped of their once-vibrant green. Even the dewdrops hanging on them were tainted with the residue of pollution.

The buildings lining the river—factories and homes alike—were worn and filthy, their walls blackened by years of smoke. Windows, unwashed for who knows how long, had turned opaque. Workers in tattered uniforms trudged through the grimy streets, while vendors pushed their carts through the narrow alleys, calling out their wares.

As a child, Dumbledore had always remembered the faintly acrid scent lingering in the air of Y country. Now, he finally understood its source—untreated industrial pollution, released straight into the environment.

Wizards always prided themselves on being separate from Muggles. Some purebloods even viewed them as mere vermin, to be disposed of as they pleased. But perhaps the connection between the two worlds was far deeper than many realized...

Lost in thought, Dumbledore guided his quill across a blank parchment, writing a few lines before tapping the page with his finger. The parchment folded itself into an origami crane and soared out through the open window.

Twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at the door of the Headmaster's office.

"Come in," Dumbledore said.

The door opened, and a bespectacled boy with messy black hair stepped inside.

"Professor Dumbledore, you wanted to see me?" Harry asked.

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