Musical Accompaniment: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KRsDuqNVxM
By the time I had satisfied Draco's curiosity, it was already time for dinner. Say what you will, but it was good to be home. The Malfoy Manor was captivating in every way: from the fresh air and coziness to the perfect temperature and low "population." Just four people and two house-elves.
Speaking of which, Dobby and Binny didn't walk around in pathetic rags, as shown in the movies — no, they wore clean linen tunics with our family's crest neatly embroidered on them. On their feet were sandals, simple but sturdy. I had noted this right after the ritual. In any case, it was logical: a house-elf in a noble family was not just a helper but a status symbol. Status expressed in the details.
The rarity of their race only increased their value. In Britain, as I estimated, there were only about three hundred house-elves. A third of them lived and worked at Hogwarts, the rest — belonged to ancient families. Buying an ordinary house-elf was practically impossible, even for five thousand Galleons, while Hogwarts sold them for a tenner. And the reason was clear: that was where the largest community of elves was located, and that was where these very elves were officially sold. One could buy one at any time and form a contract, obtaining a loyal slave and servant, one that also showcased status. Such a servant could serve a family for many generations.
Although, remembering the canon, I was sometimes tempted to hit Dobby with an Avada. But, firstly, I hadn't learned the Avada yet, and secondly, Dobby himself hadn't shown any acts of disobedience so far.
Moreover, I consciously treated them not as soulless objects, but as servants. I hoped this would help avoid some troubles in the future. And in general, I saw no point in oppressing creatures who were devoted to you and your family, whom no dog could compare to. And as for the super-usefulness of such a servant, I'll just keep quiet.
After dinner, I decided to spend a little more time with books and headed to the family library. Mother had allowed me to stay there. It was a pity, though, that only the Head of the Family had the right to take books out. Otherwise, I would have set up a permanent "underground branch" in my room long ago.
The library was protected by an extremely complex set of charms: protective, security, and even partially illusory. The system resembled the one on the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, but much stronger and more cunning. And this was unsurprising: the family library was not just a collection of rare books. No, not at all.
Certainly, the vast Malfoy Manor library contained hundreds of books, from the most accessible and simple to collections on any magical discipline, except for the heavily Dark and forbidden ones. The latter were in a closed section; I wasn't allowed in there, and I couldn't get in on my own.
What I'm trying to say is that besides hundreds of ordinary books and even extremely rare, limited-copy books and memoirs, like a rare copy of a book on curses by Harpy the Vicious, there was something here that made the ancient families so powerful.
The main treasure wasn't the rare books or even the unique editions. The essence of the family library lay elsewhere: in every family, in every such library, were stored the personal notes, diaries, memoirs, and research of those who belonged to our family and had reached magical heights in one field or another, sometimes not even magical.
In every family, in every such library, there were personal notes, diaries, memoirs, discoveries, results of research and experiments by hundreds of wizards before. Those who had reached heights in various magical branches, and then created new spells, potions, rituals, and so on.
Every such descendant of our family, upon reaching a certain level, left behind knowledge that was never published, patented, written about, or known elsewhere: notes on spells, potions, rituals, experiments. Sometimes it was a neat diary, sometimes a stack of parchment with scribbles and diagrams. But the value of such materials was hard to overestimate. All of it was priceless because it was available only to a very narrow circle. Something passed down only within the family — and nowhere else. From generation to generation for entire centuries.
As a Malfoy, I was given access to hundreds, if not thousands, of unique pieces of knowledge. Sometimes they were forbidden, sometimes completely useless, but the main thing was — they were ours. Over the centuries, all of this accumulated and became a kind of internal capital of the family. Here were stored rituals not written about in any book available for purchase. Each such record or folio could be sold at auction for tens of thousands of Galleons, but to sell such a thing... would, to put it mildly, be the height of stupidity and disrespect for ancestors who preferred the prosperity and strength of the family to popularity and mention of their name.
And there was also the history of my family here. I could learn about those whose names remained in the chronicles — as great inventors and wizards. Or I could stumble upon those who, on the contrary, consciously hid their discoveries from prying eyes, bequeathing knowledge only to their descendants. Perhaps not everything I found was unique, but if such knowledge existed outside the family, no one knew its source. I think one could even find things that ancestors had invented and preserved long ago, which someone later re-discovered and published, and he was considered the pioneer. And truthfully, for society, he really was the pioneer.
This is what it means to have a family library. This is the true strength of the ancient and noble families. Every subsequent Malfoy gave everything he had for the future, to accumulate a little more power, knowledge, and wealth. All of it — for the descendants they would never even see. For those who would live centuries later and might not remember the names of their ancestors but would use their works.
This was why I was ready to do anything for my family. I was proud to be a pure-blood. I was proud to be the heir of the noble and great House of Malfoy. And I knew: in my century, my family would rise even higher.
Our family's history began on British soil from the time of William the Conqueror. It was then that my glorious ancestor, the great wizard Armand Malfoy, helped William conquer England and secure the throne. In honor of the founder, my middle name is Armand.
As a reward, King William the Conqueror granted my ancestor the lands of the present-day county of Wiltshire. It is here that Malfoy Manor stands. Since then, our ancient Norman family settled in the British Isles and for almost a thousand years only increased its influence, wealth, and power, as befitted the feudal lords of that era. For centuries, the Malfoys remained major landowners even among Muggles.
Before the Statute of Secrecy, our family moved in the noble circles of the Muggle elite. At one point, the status and power of my family reached such heights that the main contender for the hand of Elizabeth I was my ancestor and namesake of my father — Lucius Malfoy I. But a marriage alliance with the last of the Tudors never happened.
A century later, a significant portion of wealth and lands was lost due to the introduction of the Statute. From that moment, our family turned in a different direction, gradually denying any connection with Muggles. And, as time showed, in vain. Many Muggle-borns, who didn't even bother to learn the real history of magical Britain, don't understand that the Malfoys aren't pretending to be aristocrats, as it seems to them. No. We are the aristocracy — real, with blood and tradition. As, indeed, are many other noble wizarding families.
The title of Earl of Wiltshire is still legitimate. And unlike the fake "Earl of Wiltshire" loved by the society columns, the Malfoys have real power. Thus, our family managed to sit on two chairs: preserving its position in the wizarding world and retaining some Muggle connections, having lost only a portion of its wealth. And even Queen Elizabeth II, like her predecessors, still recognizes our title as legitimate.
Over the centuries, many Malfoys left their mark on magical history. Take, for example, Armand Malfoy, the founder of our family — he was not just powerful, but perhaps the strongest wizard in Europe of his time.
Then there were the famous ones like Atreus Malfoy — the creator of many potions and basic alchemical formulas. It was he who developed the very ritual that resulted in the merging of two personalities in my body. His rule of magical potential for equivalent exchange, or Atreus's Axiom, held the same place in alchemy as Gamp's Law in Transfiguration.
One also cannot forget Nicholas Malfoy — the creator of one of the types of magical plague, as well as a malefic and necromancer who cast a couple of family curses and turned the vast expanses now called Dungeness into a cursed wasteland. Now it's just barren land with a dry climate and sparse vegetation, but once nothing grew there — the curse completely killed all life.
Thanks to his invention, the Malfoys at one time managed to fight off an alliance of Muggle aristocrats, and about twenty percent of Britain's population died along the way. Muggles now consider this a manifestation of the second pandemic of the Black Death, but we know how the Statute of Secrecy works. They shifted the date of the mass death by a couple of decades — and voilà, millions of deaths are hidden behind a "natural" epidemic. Amusingly, the second pandemic is simply the muted remnant of the bubonic plague once created by wizards.
Nicholas Malfoy, of course, was erased from almost all textbooks — thanks to the family's efforts. Officially, he was considered a "Dark Lord," and, frankly, one of the most terrible for his time.
Of course, he didn't die a natural death: too dangerous a wizard who could have caused even more trouble. It's a good thing the family itself survived. And to be honest, I'm sure — the formula for that very plague and many other "interesting" secrets are still stored in the closed section of our library.
For the last couple of centuries, our ancestors became, without exaggeration, the shadow rulers of magical Britain. For example, Septimus Malfoy — a true gray cardinal, who controlled Minister of Magic Octavius Osbert, who was merely a puppet on a string. And this continued for generations, until Nobby Leach, the first Muggle-born Minister, appeared. He was ousted, and later died "of unknown causes." But after such a level of power, it was difficult to return to the previous influence. And my father finally messed everything up, almost ending up in Azkaban.
As I understand it, my father isn't a gray cardinal yet. But that's "yet." It's unlikely to work with the current Minister, but over the future Fudge, at least in the canon, my father will have considerable power. Not a shadow ruler, of course, but he will have the strings. So, we can only wait.
It's also worth mentioning the cadet branch, the Milfoils, in France. They managed to establish themselves well, entering the French magical elite, and although not as influential and wealthy as we are, they still stand firmly on their feet, and are numerous enough to survive in the French Serpentary.
Well, I was just refreshing my memory about the family. And now — to the business for which I opened the books. I had been waiting the entire semester for the moment I could start studying mental magic. My parents' position was to wait until the fifth year — which didn't suit me at all. I understood that a child's mind might not withstand the strain: it's not yet strong, and interfering with one's own mind is fraught with consequences. But I already have chaos in there, and if this continues, I'll soon be forgetting what I had for breakfast.
My "cockroaches" in my head were eaten by someone far more dangerous. My memory is leaky, like a colander. My character and behavior change from day to day. I'm not sure of anything, not even my views. Just recently, I was making plans to destroy the Horcruxes, and today I'm doubting their purpose, realizing that the grandfather with glasses — our Headmaster — might be a much greater danger to me than the Dark Lord himself. Let them kill each other, or let the Headmaster die as in the canon.
But if even half of those fanfics where Dumbledore is shown in a dark light turn out to be true, then he is the main problem. Of course, I haven't seen any direct hints of villainous villainy yet, but sometimes I'm a pathological pessimist.
In fact, it's all much more prosaic: Dumbledore is the unofficial leader of the so-called "Light" faction. His word carries weight both in his circle and in the Wizengamot. He shapes the line of behavior and determines who is in favor and who is superfluous at the table of power.
So, essentially, he is both a leader and a competitor to my father and his faction. Two centers of power: my father holds the old school and family connections, while Dumbledore gathers idealists, reformers, and those who don't get along with "pure-blood snobbery." And while they play politics, I am a pawn, and I don't like that.
Morgause's brain! That's the point, I thought about views and further plans for a second and now I've lost track...
Right, I stopped at the dilemma of studying Occlumency! So, I don't have much choice. I intend to start grasping the basics of Occlumency. Since my psyche is already on the edge, I can't make it worse. The outcome is one: either I take the risk and can fix everything, or I leave it as is — and in a couple of years, I'll have an analogue of dementia and a bouquet of various personality disorders, or I'll become a vegetable.
Fortunately, the initial practices of Occlumency are described in detail in basic books on mental magic. The first book that came into my hands had the catchy title: "Defense of the Mind: The Basics of Shielding. Part I."
Of course, it all started with defining terms.
Occlumency is not a set of spells or magic in the usual sense, but first and foremost a manifestation of will, as well as skills of self-control and self-discipline. It is a psychic factor, framed by magic, to alter the constructs of the mind through basic psychological manipulations.
And that's what I understood and realized, but the actual definition was even more confusing. The essence was as follows:
Some people in ordinary life are better at resisting hypnosis or suggestion, while others, on the contrary, are too easily influenced by someone else's words or gaze. In the case of basic Occlumency, we are talking about the ability and consciously developed skill to control the activity of one's own mind: thoughts, associations, reactions, subconscious impulses...
In fact, the initial study of Occlumency was more like Muggle practices. Someone is better at resisting hypnosis, someone is highly suggestible. In the case of basic Occlumency, we are talking about the ability and active skill to control the activity of one's own mind, thoughts, and subconscious.
This control is possible on a completely different level, thanks to the magic that resides in a wizard's magical core, which is literally a magical imprint of the body. The magic itself helps to hide the unnecessary and show the necessary at a basic level.
To facilitate understanding, the book gave a simplest example: try not to think about time for ten minutes while looking at a clock all the while. How many seconds will you last before the obsessive thought of "it's already been three minutes" or "there's still seven left" returns? Can you force yourself to think about something specific when your head is filled with something completely different? These are elements of Occlumency that don't have a special name. The closest word here is self-control.
Now imagine the opposite: someone is trying to view your thoughts. Every association, every word, the images and phrases born in your head; all memories, complexes, and weaknesses. Can you instantly get rid of all this when you are being compelled to remember everything? Moreover, is it possible at that moment to fabricate false memories — so that they are logical, interconnected, and emotionally rich, like real ones?
That, in simple terms, is shielding Occlumency. The book also mentioned methods of protection against more subtle manipulations, as well as full-fledged protective barriers in the mind. But that was all beyond the basics, so the book only mentioned their names. The basics were what I described, but I needed not so much protection as those additional capabilities of Occlumency and mental magic in general. But protection would also come in handy.
This is why I was trying to read everything, and I was reading voraciously until... I wanted to read until morning, but Binny intervened and interrupted my reading. The house-elf, valiantly carrying out the orders of its mistress, that is, my mother, grabbed me by the hand and Apparated me to my room.