“Hide dear brother, because you know you can’t run~” You may be wondering why I am hunting down my dear brother Draco. Don’t worry, it's nothing bad… this time. We are playing a little game named freeze. Rules are simple really, for those of you who don’t know how it works let me explain. Freeze is similar to tag, the difference is that when ‘it’ catches someone that person freezes instead of becoming ‘it’. ‘It’ wins when all other players become frozen. There are some variations to the game like the one I am playing now.

In our version frozen players can be un-frozen when another still active player touches them. Not only that but we play by points. ‘It’ gets two points when all players are frozen. Players get a point when they are the last player to be frozen. Mind you all players need to be unfrozen first before a player can gain a point. I think an example is in order. 

Right now I am playing with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Draco is the last unfrozen player therefore he got a point. If he unfreezes both Crabbe and Goyle then the next player to become the last unfrozen player gets a point. If he only unfreezes one then there will be no point for the next last unfrozen player. With all of that said, I am always ‘it’ do to what I did a year back. 

You see, having superhuman strength, speed and durability makes it rather easy to win in physical games. Being a reincarnator makes it even easier to win in games that require thinking. Because of this I have been winning nonstop to the point Draco decided that there is strength in numbers. Nowadays most of the games we play are me versus them, not that I am complaining, it makes things more interesting for me too. 

There are luck based games too but Draco has the worst luck I have ever seen in my life to the point I wonder if he is under some sort of curse. Anyway, not everything has been going my way though. The potions I took had some side effects that I “knew” of but didn’t think about until it was too late. 

You see the thing is and I hadn’t realized it then, having knowledge implanted in your brain is very much like having your parents tell you fire burns as a kid. You could believe them and very well stay away from it or like me you could go and put your hand in the thing to check if it's true. In other words, I have the knowledge of the good doctor but not his experience. 

Because of this I didn’t foresee the consequences of my actions. Having my bones made of a bio-metal means they are extra heavy. That extra weight needs to be moved by my dense muscle which means an increase of energy usage. In other words, I am having to eat a lot more than before. Mind you that I already ate a lot even before that, wizards consume much more food than muggles, I chalk it up to our production of magic… you know what screw it, I will be calling the energy used for magic mana from now on for simplicity sake. 

Where was I? Right, I am having to eat more. Well, if I were to compare it to my past life I would say I am eating around three times as much. Before the potions it was twice as much but now it's thrice as much. That isn’t the end of my problems though. Because my extra dense muscles need to work more they also produce more heat, you could guess where I am going with this. As some of you might have guessed, I am suffering from overheating problems.  

But wait! There is more. Not only am I overheating but because I have a reduced sense of pain and self preservation I tend to ignore the problem until I faint. It has happened a total of three times and let me tell you, the lectures I received each time was nothing to scoff at. Thankfully this problem was somewhat fixed by mother dearest. I asked her if she could enchant my clothes with a cooling charm and guess what? It, and sorry for the pun, worked like a charm. 

“Found you~” With a scream I am sure he will vehemently say wasn’t girly my brother ran out of his hiding spot in a futile attempt to reach Goyle so he could unfreeze the guy. 

“I think not~” Continuing with my sing-song tone I let him have a bit of a head start. I may or may not have developed a bit of a bad habit. Be it in these games or when hunting for blood I like to play with my prey. With that being said I think I already let Draco run far enough. With a dash that would make the fastest of muggles blush I caught up to Draco placing my palm on his shoulder. The poor guy was a mere three meters away from Goyle, better luck next time. 

“Hehe, another two points for me boys.” I gloated a bit and with good reason. I rarely win in this game due to my overheating problems. I need to be careful or I will end up fainting again and I would rather not sit through another two hour long lecture. But what about the cooling charms? You might ask, they help but they aren’t the ultimate fix. At max power they make my skin feel chilly but the problem is the heat trapped within my body. It needs to move to my skin and then the charms can do their work. However, if I heat up too fast the heat gets trapped instead and so I overheat. 

Of Course there is a simple and easy way to deal with this problem. It is called vitality, you heard me right, I can use my vitality to outright ignore the problem. Who cares for internal damage when it gets fixed as fast as it's taken. Then again, it is a major waste to use it for this, especially when I am just playing games with brother dearest and the gang. 

Talking about vitality, I have managed to gather a good amount this past year. Thanks to my superhuman body I don’t need to use as much vitality when hunting. This helps immensely with my hunting efficiency. I have managed to gather a good four years worth of vitality! It almost tempts me to use more of the good doctor’s concoctions, almost. After I realized my blunder I have been thoroughly reviewing any and all concoctions I find interesting. Guess what? All of them, and I do mean all of them, have side effects and downsides. Well, it was to be expected from an anomalous mad scientist. 

If I were to guess on how the good doctor became an anomaly it would be because of his concoctions. Imagine this: He made one to, I don’t know, become smarter, then he realizes the side effects and tries to fix them with another concoction. Then that one has side effects and he repeats the process. By the end of it who knows how many modifications he went through resulting in his anomalous state. I don’t want to end up like that so I won’t be using his concoctions on myself anymore, at least not before refining them further. 

With all of this out of the way I have been tackling other problems, in secret of course. Legilimency, yes the mind reading magic, that one. I will be going to Hogwarts and there I will be in close contact with two master legilimens and a third will be close enough to brain fuck me if he so wishes. So no, I don’t feel safe going to Hogwarts. Worse is Occlumency being a pain in the ass to learn. Even worse is the fact I can’t engrave mind defending glyphs on myself. Well, I could but I learned my lesson three years ago. There is no way I will be doing flesh engraving on myself until I figure out how to do so safely. 

That left me with a final option that I dislike. When you find yourself incapable of solving a problem you ask for help, that is what I did. Now, there is no way in hell I am telling dad about my own form of blood magic. Who knows what he will try to do with it or even worse, what baldy-mort could try to do with it. I am the creator or at least the rediscoverer of the art. I know better than anyone the kind of shit it can pull off.  

That is why I opted for something simpler. I am a nine year old girl, the princess of the Malfoy household, a well behaved kid that rarely asks for anything. That is why I just made a simple sketch on a piece of paper of a small tiara headband hybrid with the specification that it has to be made out of iron. I also added that it should have a silver plating. 

“Dad, could you have this made for me?” I said in a cutesy voice mixed with some dignity. I have studied my family thoroughly and have found out the best way to communicate with them. My parents like when I act in a mixture of maturity and my own age. I found this after living with them for so long. If I act too mature they start looking somewhat concerned. If I act too childish they become dissatisfied. Of course this is not static, I have to constantly make corrections as I age. 

“A tiara?” He didn’t need to say more for me to understand the question behind the question. Simply put he wanted to know why I wanted a tiara. What I would be doing aside from the obvious. Even if I came with a flimsy answer he would still have it made though it would reduce my likability points. 

“Yup, after all, I am the Malfoy princes so a silver tiara would fit my title. Not only that but my name is silver so silver tiara for Silver.” I said with a small giggle at the end. To which my father gave a small almost imperceptible smile. Then he looked again at my drawing before the tiniest of frowns appeared on his forehead. 

“If that is the case why not have it completely made of silver?” I had expected that question. Having it made of iron was crucial to my plans. Silver or any other metal would work as well but it would be way less efficient though I couldn’t tell that to dad. My plan was simple: the tiara was drawn in the shape of an incomplete glyph configuration. On its own the tiara would do nothing but after I finished the glyph configuration it should in theory protect my mind from any intrusion. 

“Iron is lighter than silver, it is also tougher making it so the tiara won’t be damaged as easily. It is also cheaper, not like we are lacking money anyway but those that waste will find themselves with nothing sooner rather than later.” I said with a small shrug. If this didn’t work I could always find other ways of protecting myself but this was the easiest one. 

“I see… Dobby, take this to the Smiths.” Father said while writing something on the paper before handing it to the house elf. I couldn’t help but worry a little about what he had written. If he changed the sketch in any way shape or form then my plan would be ruined. The only part that didn’t really matter about it was the silver, I just added that to sell the idea better. Oh well, what is done is done. 

“Thanks father, when do you think it will be done?” I asked curiously, I could already make a guess. The Smiths were famous in the British magical community as the best metal working family, go figures. It is funny the amount of misunderstandings their last name has caused in history. 

“For something as simple as your request? A day or two should suffice.” Hearing that I couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow. The Smiths had a lot of work all the time. I was expecting it to take a month if not more just because of the amount of work they must already have. Seeing my expression father’s tiny winy smile returned. 

“You didn’t think I would have it go through the normal queue did you?” That made sense, a lot of sense. Who were we? The Malfoys, we are one of the richest, if not the richest, family in magical Britain. The little note father did must have been to make it a VIP request or some such. 

“Thank you father.” I said after my moment of thought. Out of all members of this family only Draco talked like his life depended on it. The rest of us were more of the silent type only speaking when necessary and only what was necessary. It is because of this that father didn’t answer verbally but instead gave one of his almost imperceptible nods. 

If you were to look at our family from the outside then you would think we were an unloving family. Shows of affection were minimal at best and nonexistent at worst. But that wasn’t the whole truth. As a noble family we were simply different, raised differently and lived differently. Father shows his affection in small ways, like his tiny smiles. Mother shows her affection with the simple praises she gives. Draco is the odd one out amongst us but he is still a kid. Me? I am an adult trapped in the body of a kid so there is that.