Chapter 242: Old Malfoy
If Malfoy Manor gave Alexander Smith any impression, the first was that it was huge. It took nearly ten minutes just to walk from the gate to the living room.
When he focused on Lucius Malfoy, Alexander was surprised to notice something unusual: nearly every wizarding household had a Floo Network installed in their fireplace, but the Malfoy family did not.
Moreover, even the Portkey did not lead directly into the Malfoy mansion.
At this time, Lucius Malfoy's face was extremely pale. His hands trembled as he discarded the hollow silverware Portkey onto the gravel path, treating it like a disposable trinket.
He walked quickly along a straight carriage lane toward the mansion.
The manor itself was impressive. The ground-floor windows were inlaid with diamond-shaped glass, their frames carved with intricate decorative patterns. The entire mansion resembled a piece of large-scale artwork.
This stood in stark contrast to the Smith family estates. The Smiths always aimed to build independent manors, improving them generation after generation. The Malfoys, however, constantly added lavish details to flaunt luxury.
"As expected of the Malfoys," Alexander thought, uncertain if it was praise or criticism.
Lucius moved steadily, leaning on his snake-headed staff. Once inside the foyer, the abandoned silverware Portkey vanished — clearly cleaned away by house-elf magic. The Malfoys were meticulous to the point of extravagance; they didn't even stoop to pick up objects themselves.
Following Lucius in spirit, Alexander took note of the mansion. After ten more minutes, a grand foyer came into view. The outside sunlight barely penetrated — illumination was provided entirely by scented candles.
The Malfoys clearly despised ordinary brightness. Just like the Slytherin common room hidden beneath the Black Lake, the manor preferred shadow and secrecy.
The foyer gleamed with opulence. A massive carpet stretched across the stone floor. Portraits of pale-faced Malfoy ancestors stared at Lucius with expressions of grave concern as he passed.
Beyond lay a ridiculous number of heavy wooden doors.
Alexander couldn't help but think: Perhaps this is why the Malfoys, despite depending so much on house-elves, don't grow fat. Their home is so sprawling and filled with doors that it takes effort just to move about.
He even wondered if the endless chores of navigating this enormous estate were part of the reason Dobby longed so desperately for freedom.
Eventually, Lucius entered the living room and nearly collided with his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, who was just about to leave.
"Lucius, what's wrong with you?" Narcissa asked at once, noticing her husband's pallor.
"It's nothing, Cissy," Lucius said, feigning calm.
He wasn't about to tell his wife what he had just witnessed in Diagon Alley. Even after shifting his allegiance toward Dumbledore, he had kept much from her.
"What happened in Diagon Alley? Did Arthur Weasley do something again?" Narcissa demanded. "I remember you clearing out all those questionable items last time."
Seeing Lucius remain silent, she sat him down on the sofa beside the fireplace, speaking in quick bursts of frustration.
"That Arthur Weasley constantly targets us, accusing us of illegal dealings and inspecting our home. I suspect even what happened to Draco before is because of the Weasleys. You don't see it because you're always away, but Draco goes on all day saying, 'Ron's dad is so amazing.'"
Her words grew sharper. "And where did you go last time with Arthur and that wretched cousin of mine? Surely Draco isn't being led astray by those Weasley brats?"
As her speculations grew wilder — even hinting at Lucius himself being entangled with Arthur — Lucius finally broke.
"Cissy, listen. I have something to tell you, but don't be frightened." He took a deep breath.
He knew he couldn't keep her entirely in the dark. If the Dark Lord was truly on the path to resurrection, and Lucius was now aligned with Dumbledore, Narcissa needed at least some truth.
"You know that although my father was not a Death Eater, he had a close relationship with the Dark Lord. I may be one of the few alive besides Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, and Dolohov who saw what the Dark Lord looked like in his youth. Perhaps even your mad sister knows — she adored him that much."
Lucius's cheeks regained a little color as he continued: "I saw the Dark Lord today. He was with Dumbledore."
Narcissa gasped sharply, her pale face draining even further.
"And, Cissy… I learned something else. He's to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next term." Lucius's voice trembled.
Narcissa's breath hitched, shock written across her face. In the corner of the room, unnoticed by either of them, a small figure wrapped in rags — Dobby — froze for a moment before vanishing silently.
"That madman Dumbledore!" Narcissa burst out. "I should have listened to you and sent Draco to Durmstrang instead!"
Her maternal fear for Draco's safety overwhelmed her.
"Cissy, don't you see? This could actually be a good thing," Lucius urged.
"A good thing?" Narcissa hissed, but then her expression shifted as a thought struck her. "I understand… Hogwarts is Dumbledore's fortress. If the Dark Lord is allowed to teach there, that means Dumbledore believes he's 'contained.' With Draco tied closely to Harry Potter and those Weasley children, perhaps it even offers him protection."
She recalled Lucius's recent dealings with Arthur Weasley and Sirius Black. Slowly, her composure returned.
"Not entirely true," Lucius admitted. "But yes… I stand with Dumbledore now. The Dark Lord… is the diary."
Narcissa stared at her husband. The Malfoys had always been opportunists, but this was more than scheming — it was survival. She understood enough to realize the diary was no ordinary object, though she deliberately refrained from asking further. Her Occlumency was not strong, and knowing too much could endanger them both.
"Draco said he would go to Sirius's place with Ron tomorrow. You and I should prepare gifts for my cousin — and for Draco's two friends as well," Narcissa said, neatly sidestepping the darker revelations.
"No, there's one more matter," Lucius said gravely.
"What is it?" Narcissa asked.
"I want to prepare a gift… and deliver it to Hogwarts." Lucius sighed.
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