Lumos

A 6-year-old boy with platinum-blonde hair was looking down from the stony window of his opulent room. His expression was colder than the winter breeze that stole away the warmth of his room,instead replacing it with sounds of distant wailing.

The boy's room was far from orderly. With dozens of books lying around, he opened snacks covering his study table, and in the bottom left corner of the room, right beside the door, was a spherical black area, still carrying the scent of burnt flesh. It was as if a little demon lived in a castle meant for a prince,which wasn't far from the truth.

The boy sighed as he sipped a cup of his hot coffee, and after he moved his hair, it flew around like flying snakes against the wind. The boy in question was Drogo. Drogo Malfoy. He looks much like his twin brother Draco, except for slightly longer and more laxer hair. Which contrasted with his regal demeanor and face, just like the room.

His cloudy gray eyes, slightly exhausted from hours of reading, frowned as he looked down below at the sobbing voice the wind carried for him to hear.

Drogo wasn't particularly surprised to see Draco laughing as Crabbe cried on the snowy floor.

Drogo's lips pursed as he sighed. His gaze was unpleased yet helpless. wasn't pleased. Not particularly because he cared about that annoying lackey, whom Drogo didn't really care to remember his name. 

'Truly stupid.' Drogo murmured as he closed the window and went back inside. 

'He keeps wasting his time...' 

Draco put his empty cup on the messy table, somehow finding the only empty space that wasn't filled with mess. Drogo looked at his winter coat, which hung neatly in his wardrobe. Probably because Drogo wasn't going out much this season.

Drogo stopped the urge to go down and scold Draco and closed his wardrobe. It never worked, and maybe it never would. 

'İt is a waste of time. Time, I can use for far greater things...'

Drogo had a complicated relationship with his twin. Until last year, they were inseparable, always causing mischief,hanging around, and also having a classical sibling rivalry.

This changed when, last year, Drogo awakened magic. Because he awakened his magic at the tender age of 5 and caused a strange phenomenon, his parents called him a genius and started to act closer to him.

Drogo didn't think much of it, thinking Draco would keep up soon enough. Drogo learned to read and started studying extensively. However, Drogo was soon disappointed and angered.

Draco, he simply gave up! Rather than competing with him, Draco started to befriend less capable people, boss them around, and bully Dobby.

Drogo grew exceedingly annoyed with him. When Drogo confronted him, it wasn't very successful; Draco simply avoided him. He also started acting more pestering and needy toward their parents.

Drogo's lips twitched in annoyance. But soon enough, he sighed.

'Well, it's not all bad.'

At least Draco's constant pestering of his parents took their attention away enough, and Drogo managed to make Dobby sneak him some muggle books.

Yes... The one subject Narcissa and Lucius were adamantly cursing and not allowing him to know anything beyond 'Muggles are a pitiful race, with no saving grace and no magic.' was happened to be the subject Drogo was fascinated with.

However, for Drogo, who was extremely curious and stubborn, this explanation was definitely not enough. Questions bubbled up in his head non-stop, bothering him.

If Muggles were so weak and pitiful, why weren't they enslaved like house-elfs? At least house-elfs were proficient in magic.

Why was the wizarding world forbidden to come into contact with this 'pitiful race'?

Things didn't add up. And this was one of the things that would make Drogo spin around his room, obsessing for days. Eventually, Drogo wasn't able to suppress his curiosity. There was a whole other world out there, governed by different rules. He wanted to know, and that's why he asked Dobby to smuggle him Muggle Books secretly.

Why did Dobby help him? Well, this wasn't very complicated. In Dobby's bleak slavery life, Drogo was the only one slightly positive to him. He was his only light of hope.

Because Drogo wasn't able to get what he wanted, he needed to somehow get around his father's authority. Then he realized there was Dobby, who was bullied constantly and was desperate.

Drogo acted kindly towards him, shielding him from Draco's abuse and acting kindly.

In exchange, he would from time to time ask for small favors that would be 'between them'. Like smuggling in Muggle books.

Drogo liked this arrangement. In his mind, a true partnership should look like this.

Both sides got value, and on Drogo's side, he got a lot of value for no loss and extremely little effort. Drogo liked to earn the most value with the least amount of effort. 

That's why Drogo was annoyed by Draco. His relationship didn't make sense to him. His two goons were unreliable, unhelpful, and, in fact, harmful. It was stupid to even talk with them, let alone associate with them. And he was allowed, just because they are pure-bloods?

Drogo read many muggle books.

In some parts of World War II, it was written that the Muggles had developed terryfying weapons, and even one rumored to be able to destroy cities.

Though Drogo scoffed at the thought and just presumed it was exaggerated non-sense, he still kept reading muggle books to satisfy his curiosity.

in Muggle books Drogo read about laws, systems, and formulas that could be applied to many things; everything seemed so tight, precise, and connected. It was the opposite of magic, which mainly relied on intent, consent, will, emotions, and such things.

Even if half of the written things were true or conceivable, it would simply be too much for him.

That would mean there were still big threats to even wizards, and since Pure Bloods had to follow the rules of the wizarding world, that means those who followed the rules and enforced them either outnumbered or were better than Pure Bloods.

If this were true... How were Muggles able to develop all this? In ancient wizard books, muggles were depicted as a pathetic group with not much to their name.

Drogo simply diverted this to ambition. Ever since he was born, he has associated this trait with himself. The tales of Slytherine, top wizards, and endless ambition were fascinating to him. Thus, it was particularly frustrating when he asked Draco why he didn't study hard. He simply said that he is a Malfoy and thus naturally better than others, so he doesn't need to study harder.

Drogo was stupified and speechless. The reason he was ambitious was that he really was lacking in everything and wanted to get stronger. But considering Draco believed simply being pure-blonde already put him on top, why would he really strive to be better? 

Drogo then thought, Maybe the Muggles, because they are so poor, can't conjure things from thin air, and don't have the convenience of magic, learned over time to be self-reliant, using the world's laws to benefit from them.

If this were true, then they are the ones who are ambitious. The unsatiable ambition, the trait Drogo valued and idolized the most...

It was disheartening and uncomfortable to think the muggles they looked down on worked hard to create these science thingies and improved, while the pure-bloods he was accustomed to seeing at the top were content and lazy.

Though the more he looked at Draco, the less he could deny his premotions about the decline of pure bloods.

Drogo sighed dramatically and waved his hand to the left. With a clink sound, the lock on his door was unlocked. Drogo smirked as he thought, a bit in childish excitement. 'How cool'

This spell, Alohomora, the door-unlocking spell, was the only one Drogo managed to master. Drogo would want to master more spells, of course, and read everything about charms that he could find. But it was hard because he still didn't have a wand or much of an instructor.

His parents said it was too early for that, which was quite frustrating. But this didn't stop him from practicing some basic spells.

Though the results were not very satisfying for Drogo, Yesterday, he burned the left side of his room when trying to conjure what muggles call a telephone, a new muggle invention depicted in a book that allegedly allows someone to speak with others from afar.

However, instead of creating a telephone, he created a weirdly shaped candy cane that suddenly caught fire.

It was strange. What was stranger was that the burnt wall of his room smelled of burnt flesh.

Drogo closed his eyes on the bed for a few minutes before he took a deep breath and muttered.

"I know. This time it will work."

It was finally time for Drogo to learn—not even master his second spell ever! Drogo selected a basic spell called Lumos to make sure he would succeed. Still, without a wand and no training, it wasn't that easy. Though Drogo read about wizards in Uganda, from a young age, he practiced wandless magic.

This means it should be possible for him too! He already read the physics of light! Though most of it was confusing to him, he a bit frustratedly realized maybe some books were a bit over his level. Despite being 6 years old, Drogo was barely able to accept this concept.

Nonetheless, Drogo managed to understand that there were small charged things that were very small, called electrons. And they were in excited form, with heated objects, especially. Thus, if he could imagine the vibration of these things, he may imagine them creating light!

Drogo took a deep breath, forgetting about the scolding he received from his parents, his previous near-death experiences, and the burnt mark on his wall. Calmness masked his inner excitement on his face. He extended his index finger and imagined the electrons, their vibration, and them creating light.

After six silent seconds, Drogo was hit with a pang of disappointment. Sadness overtook him as Lucius's voice rang in his ear. 'Don't be riduculus, Drogo! Muggle things and magic never mesh.'

Drogo gritted his teeth. He imagined again, guiding his feelings and intent and re-improving it again and again. He didn't want his father to be right in this instance. He muttered on the inside.

'I need to pour more intent and concentration. Imagine the light and the source of that light...'

After five grim minutes, Drogo sighed as he opened his eyes.

'Father was right...It really is a waste of my time to learn Muggle things. They are not applicable...'

Just as he was about to stand up in deep disappointment, he jumped up in excitement and laughed. On his index finger was a small, light ball! It was extremely small, almost unnoticable, but it was there!

Drogo was extremely happy! He grinned as he muttered.

"Now, I want to make it even bigger! Who needs a wand? I, Drogo Malfoy, am a genius!"

Drogo was momentarily extremely proud. His disappointment, stress, and sorrow turned into relief, and then into arrogance. His arrogance, confidence, and ambition rose to the heavens. For a 6-year-old boy, studying alone for weeks or hours every day, with his coat neatly waiting in his wardrobe, was already painful enough. Unlike his peers, he chose to confine himself to his studies stubbornly, against the doubts of others. Rather than indulge himself in the pampering of his parents like Draco. Thus, this small victory was exceptionally sweet and made him momentarily drunk with victory.

Drogo was even more pleased as the light bulb, as small as a needle, now covered his entire palm and illuminated the whole room. Drogo laughed giddily as he spoke in excitement.

"Dobby! Come and see! I cast a spell! I cast Lumos!"

But Drogo frowned, his voice dying down. His eyebrows raised as he thought.

'Mmm, it's a little hot?'

A yelp resounds in Malfoy Mansion, as the top right room of the mansion is fully illuminated by yellow light, as if the sun itself had graced there. The light went away a second later, and cracking voices were heard.

"DROGO!?"

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT!?"

Two panicked voices came as Narcissa and Lucius came into the room. Their anxious faces slowly turned relieved...and then red with anger as they looked at the 'innocent'-looking Drogo, inside a shield spell cast by Dobby. 

Aside from the small circle in which Dobby and Drogo stood side by side, the rest of the room was completely destroyed, with ashes and burned stones scattered around.

In the tense silence, Drogo, who was sitting on the floor, looked up with the most adorable face he could muster.

"Mom,Dad...I can....explain?"