Late at night, Malfoy Manor.
The magnificent corridor once used to flaunt wealth and bloodline had dimmed beneath the shroud of darkness. The portraits of Malfoy ancestors lining both sides kept their mouths tightly shut, their eyes filled with terror.
A cold, gloomy air permeated the manor, like despair, yet also like a plea.
The study doors opened, and Lucius dragged his weary body toward the bedroom.
The eerie green flames in the fireplace stretched his shadow long and twisted. He pulled his coat tighter around himself. That green light offered no warmth; its radiance was like a winter wind that chilled him to the bone.
A thick layer of dust covered the luxurious crystal chandelier. Lucius quickened his pace to escape the green glow and returned to his bedroom through the darkness.
Inside the room, Narcissa finally loosened her tightly clenched hands.
Her voice carried a suppressed tremor. "His reply was only a simple 'I understand.' He should know what state the manor is in now."
Lucius's bloodless lips curled slightly. "He did not complain or question it. He has grown up—faster than we had hoped."
He turned around. The latest issue of The Daily Prophet lay spread across the beechwood desk. Its front page featured Vincent Wayne's latest whereabouts, along with a photograph of the extremely dry and scorching Sahara Desert.
"The Dark Lord's patience is running out." Lucius lightly tapped the wanted poster photograph with his finger. "Wayne has divided his attention and damaged his authority. He urgently needs an overwhelming victory to gather fear around himself again."
Narcissa unconsciously clenched her hands once more. "What is it?"
Lucius shook his head. "I do not know yet, but he was very interested in the information Severus brought last time."
Narcissa went deathly pale. "That Prophecy Orb?"
Lucius