What would you do if you died in an accident caused by a drunk truck driver, and instead of slipping into eternal darkness or waking up in hell, you found yourself in a completely different body? 

Now imagine that body belongs to a well-known fictional character, facing one of the biggest choices of his life.

For me, the decision was clear. I suddenly realized I was inside Draco Malfoy's body, standing before a robed, bearded man that Draco's memories told me was Dumbledore.

I was witnessing one of the most important moments in this world's history—the pivotal scene from *The Half-Blood Prince*.

I didn't hesitate. "Expelliarmus!" burst from my lips, and a flash of red light knocked the Elder Wand out of Dumbledore's hand, sending it flying. 

But my motivation wasn't the same as what others might have had. Some would act to protect Dumbledore's plan, while others might try to maintain the timeline to keep things predictable.

For me, it was simple—I wanted the strongest wand in existence. I barely registered Dumbledore's pleas about the light side, or Snape's inner struggle as he steeled himself to kill his mentor.

My focus was on casting two spells quickly and unnoticed, taking full advantage of Draco's magical skills. 

First, I switched Draco's old wand with the Elder Wand, feeling a warm sensation as it settled into my hand.

With the Elder Wand now mine, the second spell was effortless—changing Draco's old wand to resemble the Elder Wand while using an illusion to disguise the real one.

Just like that, I had claimed the world's most powerful wand.

As my body moved through the escape on autopilot, my mind raced with excitement, considering all the possibilities this new situation offered. The future was brimming with potential...

---

After making my getaway, I found myself standing in front of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I have to admit, I felt nervous.

Even though I held the Death Stick, I wasn't foolish enough to believe I could take on Voldemort, especially with so many of his loyal followers lurking in the shadows.

Fortunately, Snape's "heroic" deed had captured everyone's attention, reducing me to a mere background figure.

Draco might have hated that, but it played perfectly into my plans. I had little faith that the Occlumency skills I inherited from Draco would be enough to hide the fact that someone new now controlled his body.

The ceremony honoring Snape dragged on without an end in sight, looking like it could last for hours.

I was relieved—it made slipping away even easier. I headed toward Draco's room, eager to be alone and explore the full extent of my newfound abilities.

I was shocked to discover that Draco had never truly tested his magical limits. He had incredible potential, yet he wasted it on a few flashy spells taught by his father and basic tricks he learned at Hogwarts. What a waste. 

He could have reshaped reality, bent people to his will, and yet he used his powers for petty bullying. What a tragic loss of potential.

I had no intention of holding myself back like he did. The world was mine for the taking.

---

I worked through several spells—conjurations, transfigurations, and combat hexes—all flowing effortlessly through my wand.

I wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the Elder Wand's power, or maybe it was the shift in perception and understanding that came from dying and waking up in a new body. 

Either way, the spells I cast now felt far more effective than any of Draco's previous attempts. I smiled to myself—having more power was always a welcome change. 

Still, despite the boost, I knew the strength I had was nothing compared to Voldemort's or the late Dumbledore's. That was something I planned to fix. I had no intention of living under the rule of a madman.

Just then, the door opened without warning, and someone walked in. It was a beautiful blonde woman, familiar to me through Draco's memories—his mother, Narcissa Malfoy.

If Draco had still been in control, he would have felt relief at the sight of the one person who loved him unconditionally.

But me? I felt uneasy. I didn't think I could act well enough to fool Narcissa, even with all of Draco's memories at my disposal.

"Are you alright, my son?" she asked, her voice full of concern, though her usual composed demeanor remained.

It took quite a bit of effort to keep a smirk off my face. With how worried she was, she would likely brush off any odd behavior as a result of the stress from Draco's failure. 

It wasn't a bad assumption—after spending a whole year trying to kill Dumbledore, only to fail at the last moment, anyone would be crushed. It worked in my favor that Draco was no longer around. 

"I'm fine, Mum," I said, trying to sound as downcast as possible. The more she thought I was just depressed, the more she'd focus on helping me feel better rather than noticing any small changes in my behavior.

She said nothing in response, just pulled me into a hug. Draco would have found comfort in the embrace, but for me, it was different.

Feeling her soft body pressed against mine, and her familiar scent filling the air around me, I couldn't help but feel a surge of desire.

It wasn't surprising, considering Narcissa Malfoy was one of the most stunning women I'd ever come across.

The temptation was strong. Despite the risk, I was unable to prevent myself from putting my hands in a place dangerously close to her bottom, three of my fingers resting on her plumpness. 

She stiffened momentarily as I pulled her even closer, smashing her breasts to my chest, but no word of protest left her mouth as she gently caressed my back in a misguided attempt to console.

"Mum, I want to stay alone," I said a minute later.