Chapter 626: Draco’s Elders Led by Kreacher, Draco made his way deeper into the castle.For someone that important, though, this level of treatment was only to be expected |
Fleur Delacour herself did not know when exactly that figure had started occupying her mind and slipping into her life.
As for the reason...
Was it because Draco was different from everyone else, because he never treated her differently just because of her charm?
Or was it that moment on the tournament grounds, when the solid figure standing in front of her to save her had suddenly and unexpectedly broken into her heart?
Or perhaps, after the Triwizard Tournament ended, her mischievous little sister Gabrielle kept bringing up “Brother Draco” every chance she got, and over time Fleur had unconsciously begun to see him as someone special?
Whichever it was, and whether she had truly fallen for him or not, one thing was undeniable.
This beautiful and captivating Fleur Delacour really was paying close attention to Draco’s every move now.
Otherwise, she would not have kept “coincidentally” running into him again and again during this time.
“You know, even if it is not obvious yet, the Muggle world has probably already noticed that something is happening in the wizarding world.”
“Then again, that is only natural. Just look at this. [Trees uprooted, rooftops torn off, massive casualties...] The Muggle side may be explaining it all away as hurricanes, but these disasters have happened too many times. It is hard not to get suspicious.”
“......”
“And that is not all. The wizards on your side are all shouting that the Ministry of Magic is useless. If this keeps up, our ally may not be able to stay in the Minister’s seat for much longer. He might not even last until the war is over.”
“......”
With her beauty and Veela blood making her all the more alluring, Fleur Delacour was already charming to an extraordinary degree. Her voice was like a songbird’s, never irritating in the slightest. If anything, it only made people want to keep listening.
Unfortunately, the only person there to witness all of that, Draco, seemed not to care at all.
If it had been any other wizard, he would probably have been flattered and eager to pick up the conversation, instead of staying as unmoved as Draco was.
But in truth, Draco was not uninterested in the information, nor was he incapable of appreciating Fleur’s charm.
He turned his head and looked at her expressive little face.
That alone made Fleur purse her lips awkwardly.
“Y-you... why are you looking at me like that? I did not come here specifically to tell you all this. I was just talking to myself.”
Draco was not stupid, and his social instincts were perfectly normal.
In other words, he could naturally pick up on certain hints from the way she behaved.
Did she like him?
He paused.
But just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt he might be overthinking it, to the point of sheer narcissism.
After all, who would fall for someone like him, someone already surrounded by several girls?
Not to mention his lukewarm attitude. She should have been angry with him long ago, so how could she possibly like him?
Draco frowned.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that this had to be the case. After glancing at Fleur, who had turned her head aside, Draco decided that unless she was blind, that could not possibly be it. In the end, he swallowed the words that had almost slipped out.
Maybe she was only doing this because she wanted to build a good relationship with him.
Shaking his head, Draco gave a brief explanation for what he had just done.
“It is nothing. I was only wondering why you were telling me all this.”
Fleur had no idea what had gone through Draco’s mind in those few short moments.
But for some reason, a strange surge of anger rose in her chest.
“I told you, I was just talking to myself!!”
And after shouting that, she stomped off, her footsteps pounding loudly against the floor as she left.
Even though she was older than Draco, that little display of Fleur’s was full of girlishness, with a touch of youthful energy to it as well.
Compared with Pansy’s sweet clinginess and softness, Hermione’s prickly bickering, and Astoria’s tolerance and poise, Fleur seemed far more awkward.
She was so beautiful she hardly seemed human, yet when it came to feelings, she seemed hopelessly clumsy.
Perhaps little Gabrielle, precocious as she was, was actually more straightforward than her older sister.
Faced with Fleur’s sudden change in mood, even Draco, who was usually so composed, showed a trace of bewilderment on his face.
Had he said something wrong?
...
After Fleur ran off, Draco stood there in a daze for a moment before pulling out his wand with a puzzled look.
The suddenly serious expression on his face broke apart the strange atmosphere that had lingered a moment earlier.
The reason was simple. Draco had just sensed an odd fluctuation in the magic in the air.
Crack!
He snapped his head toward the source of the sound, and in that instant his pupils tightened slightly.
“It has been a long time, sir. Kreacher is glad to see that you are safe.”
“...Kreacher.”
That familiar crouched posture, along with that gravelly voice, immediately told Draco who the house-elf in front of him was.
He had not seen him since the last time.
Draco had assumed Kreacher was avoiding him, but now it seemed that was not the reason.
“Mistress and the others have returned. Kreacher was told to bring sir over.”
Draco stared at Kreacher, who still had not raised his head to look at him. He did not step forward right away.
“I need an explanation, Kreacher.”
“.......”
“.......”
Neither of them showed the slightest movement of magic, yet the atmosphere between them was strangely heavy.
Even more surprising was the fact that although Draco was not the master Kreacher served, the house-elf was showing a will of his own at that moment.
It reminded Draco of Dobby.
From where he stood, Draco could not see Kreacher’s expression, but the silence itself already said enough.
Just when Draco thought Kreacher would remain silent forever, a murmur so faint it was almost impossible to catch reached his ears the next second.
“Kreacher... only wanted to make sure sir...”
“What did you say?”
“......”
It was almost as if what Draco had heard just now had only been his imagination.
But from the silent movement of Kreacher’s mouth, opening and closing soundlessly, it was obvious that the problem was simply that no one else could hear him.
Again.
This strange house-elf was always saying things no one else could understand.
Draco withdrew his gaze from him.
The real reason he did not continue pressing the matter was mainly because he genuinely did not sense any malice from Kreacher. Of course, part of it was also because what was happening on his father’s side was clearly more important.
...
Led by Kreacher, Draco made his way deeper into the castle.
For someone that important, though, this level of treatment was only to be expected.
The security and secrecy along the way had clearly been pushed to the limit.
It was not quite to the point of guards at every turn or a place so tightly sealed that not even a mosquito could get in, but it was certainly not somewhere just anyone could enter. Even Draco had to go through several rounds of inspection before he was finally allowed inside...
Magical detection.
Potion testing.
All of it was meant to prevent anyone from disguising themselves, using something like Polyjuice Potion, or relying on spells to infiltrate the place and look for a chance to sabotage it.
Judging from how practiced everyone was, this was obviously part of their daily routine, not some temporary measure put in place at the last minute.
The security was so tight that Draco could not help thinking that if Kreacher had not been with him, and if he had not carried the Malfoy name, those wizards might very well have confiscated his wand on the spot...
In any case, Kreacher finally came to a stop in front of a door.
That meant the room behind it was their destination, and the place where he would be meeting his father next.
One thing worth noting was that before Draco could even reach for the handle, Kreacher deliberately raised a hand and lightly tapped the door.
A strange fluctuation of magic faintly stirred in the air.
There was clearly some sort of Jinx on the door, one Draco did not fully understand, and apparently it was magic that could only be undone by a house elf...
Still turning that over in his mind, Draco gently pushed the door open.
Creak.
Soft carpets.
A burning fireplace.
Tall bookcases on either side, along with luxurious decorations that only someone of a certain standing would fully appreciate.
Restraint and splendor.
Two things that should have clashed, yet somehow blended together in perfect harmony.
The moment he stepped inside, Draco caught a sense of familiarity in the room’s design and furnishings, something he would only ever find at Malfoy Manor.
Of course, that was probably also because of the portraits hanging along both walls.
Each portrait had its own distinct style, but every one of them depicted a former head of the Malfoy family, or someone who had once played a vital role within the family...
...
The foundation of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Houses did not come solely from elite education and careful upbringing, which gave later generations the ability to carry on the family’s glory.
It also came from these portraits.
As time passed, these exceptional wizards, figures who had once flourished in different eras of magical history, had not truly vanished. Instead, they had become a powerful support for their great families.
They could not step out of the paintings and interfere with the real world directly, but their experience and the knowledge stored in their minds were the true wealth of these families...
Draco paused for a moment, then muttered inwardly, “Are they all here? Something feels off.”
Come to think of it, it was rare for Draco to see them at all. This was the first time he had ever seen all of these painted “elders” sitting obediently inside their frames.
Most of the time, the frames were empty.
Perhaps people who had once ruled the world in their own eras did not much enjoy being trapped inside a tiny painting.
As Draco stepped into the room, still wondering why his father and the others were nowhere to be seen, the portraits, which had just been resting with their eyes closed, all turned toward him at once as though they had planned it in advance.
Even Draco, who had already experienced quite a lot, felt faintly uncomfortable under those nearly tangible gazes...
“Is that him?”
“Mhm. Gray eyes and pale blond hair. A genuine Malfoy, no question.”
“So that is the young Malfoy we were just talking about.”
“Not bad, not bad. If those reports are true, then the family line really does have a worthy successor.”
“Hmph, you idiot. At that age, could you have driven back that many Dark Wizards on your own? This concerns whether the Malfoys can stand at the top of the world...”
“Ahem.”
That single light cough instantly silenced the lively discussion.
Apparently, even among so many former heads of the family, there was still someone who could keep them all in check.
It was hard to imagine what kind of standing a wizard would need to make these proud Malfoys lower their heads. Draco narrowed his eyes and looked over...
Thinking about it, Draco did not recognize most of the portraits gathered here.
Never mind the one placed in the center, the largest and most magnificent of them all.
Judging from the background of the portrait, the era it came from seemed extremely distant. Many of the things in it had long since vanished or fallen out of use.
More importantly, it was nothing like the long bearded old man Draco had imagined.
The person before him was a middle aged wizard, and the bright, easy smile on his face made it even harder to connect him with the image of an important figure in the Malfoy family.
If Draco had not known better, he might have mistaken him for one of those warmhearted Gryffindor wizards...
Of course, if anyone really wanted proof that he was a Malfoy, they only had to look at the snake headed cane in his hand, the symbol of the head of the Malfoy family.
“There is no need to be nervous. They just have not spoken to a young person in a very long time, so they got a little excited.”
From the gentle look in his eyes and the smile on his face, it was obvious that he was very fond of Draco, this younger descendant.
In fact, ever since Draco stepped into the room, all he had heard was praise and approval.
As for why...
Draco raised a brow, already having guessed part of it. Was it because of that article? Perhaps the news had been deliberately spread, and the idea had come from one of the people in this very room.
Just as Draco was quietly speculating, the tightly shut door behind him was suddenly pushed open.
“Darling! Let me have a good look at you!”
Before he could even see who had come in, Draco was pulled into a fierce embrace.
If not for that familiar voice, that familiar tone, and the special nature of this room, Draco might really have thought an assassin had attacked him.
A worried hug.
A tone tinged with annoyance.
The only witch who could appear here and still make Draco smile helplessly was, of course, the beautiful and dignified Narcissa Malfoy.
And right behind her came Lucius Malfoy, his expression severe...