Chapter 294
Gabrielle had a dream that night.
In the dream, her sister returned home beneath the cover of darkness.
She avoided their parents and quietly pushed open the bedroom door before walking softly to the bedside and gently kissing Gabrielle's forehead.
The pale moonlight shone across her face, making her appear holy and enchanting.
Even in her sleep, Gabrielle could clearly feel the warmth of her sister's lips.
"Sister!"
Gabrielle suddenly woke from the dream.
Her long silver hair scattered loosely across her shoulders like a waterfall.
Outside the window, the morning sun had already risen, bathing the world in soft golden light.
It was already dawn.
She did not even bother putting on her cartoon slippers or changing out of her pajamas before rushing out of the room.
"Sister came back!"
she shouted excitedly to her parents at the breakfast table.
The entire family missed Hibiscus deeply.
Her parents worried about her day and night.
Even though Albus Dumbledore repeatedly assured them that Hibiscus was safe and would return soon—
It was far from convincing.
After all, that "crazy" student might do anything to their daughter.
"Gabrielle, you must have imagined it."
Madam Dracul gently patted Gabrielle's head.
Of course, she missed her daughter as well.
But it sounded far too unrealistic.
At that moment—
A piece of parchment drifted softly down from the chandelier overhead.
Black ink was written neatly upon it.
> I'm safe. Please don't worry.
The moment they finished reading it, the parchment instantly turned into ashes atop the table.
"That's my sister's handwriting!"
Gabrielle cried happily.
"She definitely came back!"
---
Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, silence filled the estate.
The fountain no longer flowed.
Even the proud white peacocks that once strutted arrogantly across the courtyard now hid quietly in corners, unwilling to make any sound.
Their mood seemed no different from their master's.
"Narcissa, there's something I need to tell you."
Inside the manor's drawing room, Lucius Malfoy spoke with an unusually heavy expression.
Narcissa Malfoy sat absentmindedly beside a mahogany table, resting her cheeks in her hands.
Her eyes stared blankly ahead.
She looked utterly exhausted.
"Is it about Draco?"
Narcissa immediately stood up.
The lifelessness in her face vanished instantly.
But the moment she saw Lucius's expression, her anxiety only deepened.
Lucius's pale face was grave.
His eyelids drooped slightly as he tightly gripped the silver snake-headed cane in his hand.
"Don't panic."
"There's still no news regarding Draco."
"But there is… another matter."
"It isn't good."
"I hope you can remain calm after hearing it."
Lucius hesitated slightly.
One disaster after another had already struck his wife.
But he could not hide this forever.
Narcissa had the right to know.
"That concerns your family."
Lucius lowered his head slightly before speaking slowly:
"Your sister, Bellatrix… died in Azkaban."
Narcissa's face instantly lost every trace of color.
Her voice trembled violently.
"What did you say?"
"Didn't the Dark Lord go there personally to rescue his followers?"
"I don't know."
Lucius closed his eyes heavily.
"I felt overwhelming fury through the Dark Mark."
"The rescue may have failed."
Every Death Eater could vaguely sense Voldemort's emotions through the Dark Mark.
The greater the pain from the mark—
The more furious the Dark Lord became.
"This morning, the Daily Prophet sent its latest report."
"Azkaban has collapsed."
"There were no survivors among the prisoners."
"They all died."
Lucius slowly stroked Narcissa's blonde hair.
"I'll arrange a proper funeral for Bellatrix."
"Now that she's dead, the Ministry likely won't pursue matters further."
"What do you think?"
He gently pressed her back into the chair before leaning down and kissing her forehead comfortingly.
Narcissa nodded weakly.
Her slender fingers rubbed at her temples.
She looked unbearably tired.
Another member of her family had disappeared from this world.
Yet strangely—
The grief was not overwhelming.
Only a faint melancholy lingered quietly in her heart.
Ever since Bellatrix Lestrange had been imprisoned in Azkaban, the sisters had long since lost contact.
Time diluted many things.
In Narcissa's eyes, Bellatrix had already lost herself under the Dementors' torment years ago.
Perhaps death was a kind of release.
"What about Draco?"
"Is there still no news?"
Narcissa asked fearfully.
She dreaded hearing another terrible answer.
Right now—
Her son mattered more than anything else.
"I already told you."
"There's still no news."
Lucius shook his head gently.
"No news is the best possible news."
"Besides…"
"Other than Dumbledore, nobody can truly catch him."
"Trust our son."
And the son they worried about so desperately—
Was currently beginning an entirely new journey.
"This direction…"
"Germany?"
Hibiscus sat beside the train window, watching endless plains and mountains pass by outside.
Ever since secretly returning home to see her family, her mood had improved dramatically.
A bright smile lingered constantly upon her beautiful face.
The wand they carried belonged to that person.
Naturally, their final destination was Nurmengard—
The prison where Gellert Grindelwald was confined.
A prison comparable to Azkaban itself.
It was located somewhere in Germany.
But nobody knew the exact location.
Not even whether it lay inland or isolated at sea.
Even Dumbledore had refused to tell them.
After resting briefly within the Deceiver's Bazaar, Malfoy and Hibiscus resumed their journey.
Their transportation remained the same:
A train.
Their current destination was Berlin, the capital of Germany.
If France gave people the impression of romantic laziness—
With leisurely pedestrians wandering elegantly through every street—
Then Germany felt entirely different.
The moment they left the station and entered the city, the first thing they sensed was strict order and discipline.
Most pedestrians moved hurriedly, yet meticulously obeyed every rule.
Of course—
Propaganda and stereotypes often shaped national impressions unfairly.
France still had diligent people.
Germany still had careless ones.
But generally speaking—
The stereotypes existed for a reason.
There was even a saying in France:
> "Even if nine out of ten Frenchmen are lazy, one hardworking genius can still drag the country forward."
As for the topic of prejudice—
That was where it ended.