HP: She married Malfoy after becoming an exchange student.

This happened after the Slytherin Quidditch team received seven brand-new, gleaming Nimbus 2001s.

Just as Draco had eagerly "predicted" to Elias, Lucius Malfoy "just in time" provided the Slytherin team with "a little bit of necessary sponsorship."

As a "small investment in the team's future" and "reasonable support for his son's love of sports," Draco Malfoy naturally became Slytherin's new Seeker.

That afternoon, Draco could no longer hide his smugness in the common room. He didn't shout, but his straight back, bright gray eyes, and the almost reverent caress he took when stroking the Nimbus 2001 handle all betrayed his excellent mood.

"The feel is completely different!"

Draco said to Elias, who was sitting by the fireplace reading a book, trying his best to keep his voice steady, "The balance is a level above Nimbus 2000, and the startup speed is even better..." He gestured, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.

Elias looked up from a thick book on magical metallurgy, his gaze sweeping over the broom that gleamed dimly in the firelight before settling back on Draco's face. "Congratulations on officially joining the team, Mr. Seeker."

His tone was calm, but there was a faint, almost indulgent smile in his light silver eyes. "It seems that Uncle Lucius's investment has immediately yielded results."

"The team's strength has been strengthened as it should be," Draco corrected, but his face lit up even more.

"Hmm..." Draco seemed a little hesitant to speak, his voice lowered. "The first team practice is tomorrow afternoon, at the third court. Flint said he'll arrange some scrimmage to help the new brooms get used to each other." He paused for a second, then added casually, "...if you're free."

Elias closed the book, his fingertip lightly tapping the gilded title. "I'll take binoculars with me. After all," he stood up, his long, silver-grey hair swaying over his shoulders, "this is the esteemed young Master Malfoy's first training session."

Draco snorted, turned his face away, clearly embarrassed: "Whatever."

------

Training ground that afternoon:

The weather remained overcast and gray, with low-hanging clouds and air so humid it was almost dripping wet.

On the Third Quidditch pitch, Gryffindor's practice was just halfway through: Oliver Wood's roar echoed clearly across the empty field as he directed his players in practicing a new offensive formation. Harry nimbly darted through the air, the sound of Firebolts whistling through the air crisp and clean. Everything was proceeding smoothly until the team in green and silver robes appeared at the edge of the field.

Marcus Flint led the way, like a giant ship cutting through the waves. He didn't look at Wood, nor at the Gryffindor players forced to stop in the air, but walked straight to the center of the field and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.

The paper was small, but the deep green ink on it exuded an unmistakable authority even in the overcast sky. Flint's voice was loud, with a deliberately drawn-out tone:

"Special training permission." He shook the parchment. "Signed by Professor Snape. This afternoon, the Third Quidditch Field will be reserved for the Slytherin Quidditch team to train the new Seeker and get used to the new equipment."

He paused, his gray eyes sweeping over Wood's flushed face, a cruel smile spreading across his lips: "The time, well, it starts now. Excuse me, everyone, please make way."

The Gryffindor players descended from the sky and gathered around Wood. Ron, standing nearby, was the first to explode: "Why? We were here first!"

"Based on this?" Flint practically shoved the parchment under Wood's nose. "Or are you saying that Gryffindor no longer even respects the professor's warrants?"

Wood's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, but he recognized it as Snape's cursive signature, stamped with the Slytherin Headmaster's seal. His chest heaved, and he forced out a voice through clenched teeth: "Let's go."

"Wait a minute." Flint called out to the angry Gryffindors, stepping aside. The Slytherins behind him parted to the sides in perfect unison, like a stage curtain slowly being drawn back.

Draco Malfoy stepped out from the back of the line.

He walked slowly, even deliberately leisurely. His brand-new team uniform fit him perfectly, gleaming with a silky sheen that made his skin appear even whiter, and his hair was a cool platinum gold in the dim light. He carried the brand-new, gleaming 2001 in one hand, its streamlined broom-like tail trembling slightly in the air, already eager to tear through the clouds.

Draco's gaze swept past the angry Gryffindors and met Harry's eyes precisely, his grey eyes shining brightly.

"Let me introduce you," Flint said, his voice brimming with undisguised pride, "Slytherin's new Seeker, Malfoy."

Draco raised his delicate chin, a cold smile curving his lips: "Potter, the site was cleaned up fairly quickly."

This statement is like a spark falling into an oil drum.

"You bastard!" Ron's already furious temper flared up at those words. He yanked out his tattered wand, wrapped in duct tape, pointed it at Draco, and screamed, "Eat slugs, Malfoy!"

"Ron, no!" Harry and Hermione cried out at the same time.

Draco's pupils constricted sharply the instant the spell was triggered—

A figure strode quickly from the stands, almost stopping Draco half a step in front of him at the same moment the dark green light twisted and burst forth from the tip of the staff—it was Elias.

He arrived very quickly, almost in a flash. It was unclear what secret technique he used, but his usual calm aura vanished, replaced by a taut string.

Elias didn't look at Ron. Instead, he raised his hand and firmly grasped Draco's forearm, the hand holding the broom. He gently pulled Draco back, causing Draco to step back slightly, which allowed Elias to shield him.

Just as the spell was about to strike Elias, the dim spell light twisted strangely in the air and suddenly bounced back.

"vomit--!"

Ron curled up, his face turning ashen, and slugs uncontrollably gushed from his throat.

A burst of laughter erupted from the Slytherin side. Draco, standing firmly behind Elias, was first taken aback, then instinctively tried to raise the corners of his mouth as usual…

"A precise demonstration." Elias's voice rang out, not loud, but chilling enough to freeze a person to death. He didn't laugh; his gaze was fixed on the still-smoking wand in Ron's hand.

"The greatest value of this worn-out wand," Elias continued his attack, "is probably that it proves some attempts were pointless from the start."

These words only amplified the snickers around them. Elias tilted his head slightly, glancing at Draco standing behind him out of the corner of his eye.

"come over."

Draco was still a bit dazed from the series of events that had just happened, from being ambushed to being torn apart, so his reaction was slower, and he just stared blankly at Elias.

Seeing that he was still in a daze, Elias simply reached out and pulled the man completely behind him.

And so Draco was escorted behind Elias in full view of everyone, his posture quite submissive.

The Slytherin members fell silent instantly, exchanging glances.

Harry and Hermione on the other side watched as Malfoy, who had just been taunting and baring his teeth, was gently pulled behind the German boy, completely covered up, with not a trace of his platinum blonde hair visible.

Seeing that the culprit was being protected, the Gryffindors simply turned their angry gazes toward Elias.

Draco, hiding behind Elias, was not as relaxed as everyone thought.

The moment his arm touched Elias, Draco seemed to be jolted awake by the real touch, a belated palpitation gripping him. Just now… Weasley's broken wand was truly aimed at him! If Elias hadn't been a step ahead and blocked it, if the spell hadn't backfired…

Draco stared at the dark green robed figure before him. Elias was taller and broader than him, now completely shielding him from any potential danger. A strange feeling, a mixture of lingering fear and an indescribable sense of unease, welled up inside him, washing away his initial, almost reflexive, mockery. He suddenly couldn't laugh anymore, his fingers unconsciously gripping the back of Elias's robe.

Elias noticed his silence, turned his head, and saw only a drooping, furry, round head.

Knowing Draco was afraid, Elias sighed softly. Before fully turning around to face the Gryffindors, he gently patted Draco's head and said in a low, quick voice that only Draco could hear:

"It's alright now."

Then, he withdrew his hand, resuming his posture as if facing outsiders. He nodded to the anxious Hermione and the furious Harry, his tone returning to its cold, polite tone: "Clearly, the medical wing is a better fit for him than the pitch. Please make yourself at home."

Harry glared at Elias, then together with Hermione, they lifted Ron up and hurried away.

The stadium gradually quieted down, and the other Slytherin players dispersed, leaving only Draco standing there. The brief, reassuring touch above his head strangely suppressed the lingering fear in his heart. When he secretly breathed a sigh of relief and looked up, he was stunned.

Elias lowered his head, his gaze fixed on him, and it was unclear how long he stared at him. His expression was indistinct in the dim light and shadow.

"Elijas?" Draco called out, his voice lower than usual, but steady.

Elias turned his gaze back upon hearing the sound. He glanced at Draco, his eyes returning to their usual calm.

"Your broom," he began, his voice as usual, "if it doesn't get to the heavens soon, Flint will probably have to come and ask it for you himself."

After saying that, he took the lead and walked towards the training area. Draco watched his retreating figure, touched his nose, and could only grab a broom and head to the training field first.