A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

Chapter 730 Extra Chapter: Malfoy

In the deep blue light of the sky, three owl messengers, carrying the day's Daily Prophet, flew over the cast-iron gates and into the magnificent Malfoy Manor. The Malfoy family was having breakfast.

"Dad, I want to watch it too."

A five- or six-year-old blond boy spoke with hopeful eyes. He was too short, and the armchair beneath him was too tall, so even sitting on a stack of thick, soft cushions, he had to tilt his head back to speak.

The other items in the restaurant weren't quite right either. For example, the silver cutlery and plates were too heavy, making it difficult for him to eat. Everyone else had almost finished eating, while he still had about a third of the food left on his plate.

Draco spread the newspaper out on the table, showing the little boy the animated pictures on it. Lucius and Narcissa looked up from the Daily Prophet and watched this scene in silence.

"Little Scorpius can't read yet?" Narcissa asked.

Draco opened his mouth. "I can read, Grandma. I can spell a hundred words." The little boy looked up, sniffed, and said, "Mom took me to see 'The Adventures of Mick the Wizard of Oz.' Before she got sick, she wanted me to go to daycare to make friends."

The temperature in the restaurant seemed to have dropped ten degrees, or perhaps it was Lucius's gray eyes that darkened the room's ambiance.

"It's just an idea," Draco said cautiously. "We'll go in the morning and pick him up in the afternoon. Little Scorpius can play games with other children, listen to stories, learn arithmetic and spelling, and continue his magical education when he gets home."

Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a glance, and Lucius said coldly, "The Greengrass family has raised a fine daughter."

"Father, don't you also have a wide circle of friends?" Draco retorted, unconvinced. "Right here! At this table! You've hosted more than one group of high-ranking government officials. Every year you set aside at least half a month to prepare appropriate gifts and pay them a visit..."

“That’s different,” Lucius said impatiently. Narcissa gave her husband and son a stern look, then turned to the boy and said, “Scoptie, are you finished eating?” “Yes.” “Come to your grandmother, little one. Haven’t you been trying to sneak into the study and cause trouble? There are many portraits of family members hanging there, some of which can even talk.”

"Really?" Scorpius's eyes lit up. He quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin and slid off the cushion. "Is there your great-uncle Regulus? I've heard his story, the warrior who faced the darkness alone!"

Narcissa pursed her lips tightly. "Yes, it's in another room. I'll take you to see it."

She led the little boy away, and the restaurant fell silent. Draco and Lucius, father and son, sat at opposite ends of an elegantly decorated, intricately patterned long table, silently observing each other, seemingly engaged in some kind of silent contest and confrontation.

"We're having guests this afternoon, you'll stay," Lucius said, his pale, thin face now etched with wrinkles.

"Another get-together to strengthen relationships?"

"Don't forget, you're a Malfoy!"

"That doesn't mean anything. I shouldn't have come back. I'm going to the hospital to visit Astoria."

A long silence followed, the fire crackling in the fireplace. "Alright," Lucius said, suppressing his anger, "you are now the director of the Wizard-Muggle Joint Hospital, a weighty responsibility. Regarding Little Scorpius's education—"

"No need for that, you seem to have more important things to worry about," Draco said curtly. "I would never let my children live in a room outside the twelve corridors. I miss that small, safe house more than the manor where I grew up."

The safe house he mentioned originally belonged to Nick Flamel. After Felix inherited it, he lent it to the Malfoys to help them escape Voldemort's pursuit. Draco also lived there briefly. After the war, the family naturally moved back to the luxurious Malfoy Manor, but Felix did not take back the house.

Lucius seemed somewhat dazed. At that time, Selwyn was arrested by the Ministry of Magic and confessed a list of Death Eaters in order to obtain a pardon. Lucius was among them. However, Hyp later publicly admitted that Lucius was an undercover agent he had planted in the Death Eaters so that Snape, who was also a spy, could hide even more deeply.

His attitude softened.

"Astoria... how is she?"

“The same old thing,” Draco said immediately. “I cast a healing spell on her every week or two, but it doesn’t take long before it comes back. It’s been even more obvious since Scorpius was born.”

"The snake staff in your hand—" Lucius said solemnly, "is the wand that every healer dreams of, taken from a branch of Salazar Slytherin's wand. Even it can't cure the Blood Curse?"

"That curse is very powerful. An ancestor was cursed, and it has been passed down through the bloodlines of his descendants for centuries... It manifested in her. In recent years, I have gathered the best Muggles and wizards and tried every possible method, but we still haven't completely cracked it."

"I told you long ago to stay away from those women in that family!" Lucius shouted.

“That’s not what you said at first,” Draco retorted. “You and Mama had high hopes for her: both were members of the Twenty-Eight Pure-Blood Families, both were wealthy, but then you discovered she had absolutely no interest in the whole bloodline thing. The incurable disease didn’t break her; instead, it gave her cheerful, optimistic, and compassionate qualities, which are exactly what the Malfoy family lacks… I think it’s dangerous that you’re still forming cliques.”

"Enough!" Lucius shouted. He glared at his son, panting. "That was the necessary rhetoric to win people's hearts, especially since Selwyn has been pressing me relentlessly, always eyeing my position. I had to fight back."

"Even at the cost of standing against that person?"

Draco asked sharply, "You know his attitude. As far as I know, he has never actively investigated his own origins. No one knows whether his biological parents were Muggles or wizards; it makes no difference to him."

His son's words jolted him awake. Lucius broke out in a cold sweat, and the image of a polite young man flashed through his mind.

No, he was middle-aged. But no, age seemed meaningless to him. Lucius recalled the wedding two years ago; only a few close relatives received handwritten invitations, and judging from the scale of the event, no more than a hundred invitations were distributed.

That invitation is now kept in the Malfoy family's vault.

Unlike others who had reservations—such as the small group that hadn't received an invitation and consisted of some pure-blood families who had narrowly escaped the purge—Lucius witnessed firsthand the beaming smiles (and even a hint of shyness) on the newlyweds' faces, and he was ready to give them his full support.

In his mind, this situation was only slightly worse than Felix Heap choosing a partner from a pure-blood family.

This attitude stemmed from Lucius's reflection on the fate of his family.

Having experienced the chaos of the Dumbledore era and the Voldemort era, the Malfoy family naturally had their own inclinations. They favored order and, ideally, a stable connection with those in power. While people cheered the arrival of a new era, Lucius felt deeply uneasy. He realized that the Heap era was unstable; people could change, just like the Dark Lord before him. Post-war Heap, like a kite free of its ties, soared higher and higher, soon to disappear into the clouds. Heaven knows when he might grow tired of his current life and suddenly vanish.

At that moment, a pair of hands grabbed him, and in the foreseeable future, there will be more and more hands holding the kite.

No news could have been more exciting for the Malfoy family. With Mrs. Burns stepping down and Kingsley taking over, Lucius's heart stirred again, and he cautiously reached out his tentacles, only to find himself with a new rival—Selwyn, who had betrayed him without hesitation in the interrogation room. Both were vying for the support of the remaining purebloods.

"I've received some news," Lucius said slowly, having calmed down, "that Mr. Hyp intends to hand over the management of the floating islands to Harry Potter."

Draco frowned.

"As far as I can remember, Potter spent almost half of his time on the floating island for several years. I thought it was because most of his relatives and friends were there."

Lucius didn't speak, but rather almost to himself, "To take over the floating island, one needs two things: a shared vision and the ability to meet certain requirements. He's currently the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so his basic management skills are beyond question, and as for his personal strength..."

"Then there's even less to worry about," Draco said with a complicated expression.

“You’ve seen it—” Lucius stared at Draco, then nodded. “Looks like the news is true.” He pointed to the newspaper on the table. “It’ll probably be announced during the Quidditch World Cup. His birthday is at the end of July, right? So young, not even thirty yet…”

Later that day, Draco, Narcissa, and Scorpius appeared on the floating island.

Narcissa, who had spent the last two years in the country, looked at the scene before her with some surprise: they stood high on the floating island, surrounded by hundreds of fireplaces, but these were quite different from ordinary fireplaces. Except for the four corners, which were made of pure white stone, the rest of the fireplaces were empty, like stone pavilions of various sizes, with a flame burning in the air in the center of each pavilion. She glanced back and saw that the fireplace behind her was the same, except that the flames were changing color from green to red.

In the blink of an eye, two more wizards emerged from the flames. They briefly determined their direction and headed toward a small white house.

"That's the registration office," Draco explained. "First-time visitors have to state their purpose and leave a wisp of magic. Originally, there wasn't this rule, but with the increasing number of people settling here in recent years, we had to add this new procedure for easier management."

Narcissa didn't speak; her attention was drawn to a row of flying brooms streaking across the sky, all painted blue.

"That's a public broom. It's slower than a regular flying broom and has a height limit, but luckily both wizards and Muggles can use it. There's a special spell on it that can stick a person's buttocks to it, preventing the first person to ride it from falling off," Draco said with a strange expression.

"I know! That's an invention of the Weasleys' Magical Tricks Studio!" Little Scorpius exclaimed excitedly. "I love it there!"

Narcissa glanced at Draco, who looked away expressionlessly.

They left the fireplace area and then Apparated to a street, where Draco dutifully acted as their guide.

"The hospital is nearby. You and Dad used to come here often, but it has changed a lot in the last few years. Physically, the floating island is much bigger than it was two years ago. By Muggle standards for a big city, it could hold ten million people, but currently there are only about one million residents, which is already quite lively for wizards. Oh, nearly a third of these people are wizards, the rest are scientists and their families who are in charge of various large-scale projects; government workers, company employees... and also a certain number of tourists."

A deafening roar filled the air, and a three-story bus appeared across the street. "The Knight Bus?" Draco quipped, leading the way through a cluster of oddly shaped houses, all characteristic of wizarding architecture—unconventional in detail, often defying certain laws of physics, and constantly shifting in their surroundings.

They passed through a low-lying rain cloud, their hair almost brushing against the dark cloud at its closest point, but around the bend, the sun shone brightly. Before them stood a magnificent white building—the Wizard-Muggle Joint Hospital, simply named "Wizard-Muggle Joint Hospital," without any prefix. The hospital's emblem was a serpent staff—a symbol that, in both Muggle and magical societies, was associated with doctors.

Of course, if you look closely, you'll find that the serpent staff is actually a magic wand, and the snake on it is similar to the giant ouroboros that coils around the outer edge of the floating island.

Across from the hospital stood a cluster of unique magical shops from all over the world. As the Quidditch World Cup approached, tourists began arriving on the island by giant ships. Draco spotted a familiar face among a group of women. Luna Lovegood was dressed in striking clothes embroidered with all sorts of magical creatures, and a strangely shaped blue brooch that resembled a cracked eggshell pinned to her collar. Women and children surrounded her, excitedly chattering.

A brown-haired man carrying a camera jogged over...

Scamander?

The thought lingered in Draco's mind for a moment before he dismissed it. They entered the hospital, where Muggle doctors and wizard healers greeted him along the way, and Draco nodded in response. Narcissa watched all this silently, a look of pride on her face.

She and Lucius did indeed fund the construction of the hospital's prototype, but within a few years, her husband became obsessed with the game of power again and moved back to England. She could only hear about their recent breakthroughs in treating intractable diseases and the best treatments they had found through newspapers and family gatherings. She clearly felt herself falling behind the times.

They arrived at the door of the VIP ward on the fifth floor.

A woman dressed as a nurse strode over and said respectfully, "Mr. Malfoy, the Future World Corporation has sent a letter saying that fourteen more precision instruments have passed the magic test and their accuracy is guaranteed. We need your signature to accept them."

Draco quickly signed the document.

He prepared to push open the ward door, but his assistant magically produced a memo, tore off a page, and said, "There's one more thing—Mr. Potter came this morning, saying he had important matters to discuss, but you weren't in the hospital at the time."

"I understand. I'll contact him." Draco took the note and went into the ward.

(End of this chapter)