Generations of Loyal Servants: Malfoy

Armand Malfoy, this was the first Malfoy to come to England.

He followed William, Duke of Normandy, defeated the then-King of England, Harold II, and after William crowned himself king, he received a large fief in Wiltshire.

This was the original form of Malfoy Manor; later, many Muggle lands were annexed, expanding the manor.

But no matter what, it has stood here for a full ten centuries.

Today, this manor still belongs to the Malfoy family, owned by the patriarch, Lucius Malfoy.

It's just that today, Lucius wasn't in a good mood. He even went into the study without eating dinner.

"Pat... pat..."

Fingers tapped rhythmically on two thin sheets of paper, his pale gray eyes staring blankly out the window.

Under the silver moonlight, a magnificent fountain surged with silver spray. White peacocks, strolling from the neatly trimmed garden, gracefully drank by the fountain.

Beautiful scenery, yet it didn't receive the slightest attention from its owner, Lucius Malfoy.

"Bang."

A figure appeared out of thin air; it was a house-elf.

"Mistress sent Dobby to ask Master if he wants anything to eat," the big-eyed Dobby asked.

"Scram."

Amidst the angry shout, Dobby vanished with a "bang."

Lucius's gaze turned back to the first sheet of paper, which bore only a simple line of text:

When Dobby is not around, read the second page.

Upon seeing these words, Lucius thought it was a prank. If he hadn't already opened the envelope, he might have thrown them away directly.

But when he opened the second page...

Lucius's gaze fell on the second page, where the text was more than on the first:

Dear Malfoy:

I am your old friend. We share a secret known only to the two of us:

About a diary, about a Chamber of Secrets.

I believe you already know who I am.

Therefore, remember the time and place below, and arrive on time.

July 23rd, 10 AM.

London, Chelsea district, the intersection of Kensington Street and Derry Street, a telephone booth.

Answer after the phone rings three times.

Your friend.

The letter ended there. This was clearly a mysterious friend, but Lucius knew who it was, and it made him lose his appetite.

Who could it be, that a letter could make the patriarch of the wealthy and well-connected Malfoy family so troubled?

There was only one answer: his master.

Master, a humbling noun, yet that's what they called themselves, and for a long time, they were proud of it.

Ten years had passed, a full ten years. Lucius had reflected countless times:

Was I mad then? Was I consumed by desire? Was I controlled by magic?

The answers were all no. Ten years later, he still remembered that person, powerful and majestic, so much so that one could forget his handsome face because of it.

If he could do it again, he knew he would still pledge allegiance to that person without hesitation, simply because of his power, his charisma, and what he brought to the Pure-bloods... the benefits.

But fate did not favor his master. He failed, defeated by a child—even after ten years, the Death Eaters still considered it an elaborate lie.

He had thought that after abandoning a large portion of his wealth and shedding his guilt, everything would be over. At least, that's what he had believed for the past ten years.

But a thin letter...

Could he refuse?

No, that wasn't the right question. It should be: Did he dare refuse?

He didn't dare.

Even though he knew that person was likely not as powerful as before, perhaps even very weak, he still didn't dare.

However... who would believe a nonsensical letter? Who knew if this wasn't a trap set by the Ministry of Magic to purge the Death Eaters?

This gave him an excuse to refuse, but the fundamental question remained:

Did he dare?

He could have countless reasons, excuses, but if there was even a sliver of a loophole, just a sliver, when his master returned...

Thinking of this, Lucius couldn't help but shiver.

From dusk till dawn, his fists clenched and unclenched, his wand was picked up and put down, and finally, finally...

"Narcissa, I need to go out for a bit. You manage the house."

He instructed his wife, causing Narcissa to look at him in confusion. But he didn't dare say another word.

July 23rd, 10 AM.

Chelsea, London, a red telephone booth.

"Ring ring... Ring ring... Ring ring..."

The phone rang precisely on time. Lucius, his hands trembling, slowly picked up the receiver—he desperately wished it was a prank, or even a trap set by the Ministry, but alas, it was neither.

"It's me."

A metallic voice came from the other end of the line. It was clearly disguised, but he recognized it instantly. The tension in his heart eased in a single moment.

"Master, I've been searching for you for ten years, and I've never stopped."

There was a long silence from the other end. His heart tensed again, but thankfully, a voice soon followed.

"I believe you, my child."

The electronic voice said, "But now is not the time for catching up. I'm still caught in a conspiracy, and I need your help."

"Child, are you still willing to trust me and help me unconditionally, as you did before?"

Lucius keenly sensed a change. Compared to the master's paranoia during the last period ten years ago, the master now seemed much more enlightened.

"Of course," he said without hesitation. "I await your summons at any moment."

"Very good."

The electronic voice carried a hint of joy. "Two tasks, one message."

"Dedalus Diggle, or Cordelia—I don't know his full name, but he's a drunk at The Leaky Cauldron. Find one of them before July 28th. Secretly alter their memories of drinking on July 22nd. It's best if you don't pry into that memory. This is for your and my plan."

Altering a drunk's memory shouldn't be too difficult... Lucius committed everything to memory and quickly gave his answer.

"No problem, Master. I guarantee the mission will be completed." he responded firmly.

"This won't be difficult for you, but the next task is a bit troublesome."

The electronic voice's words immediately made Lucius nervous.

"On July 29th, before Hagrid takes Little Potter into Gringotts, I need you to get there first and attempt to steal the item from Vault 713."

Master, you still misunderstand the difference between trouble and danger... Lucius thought, his face draining of color.

"I must remind you," the electronic voice continued without pause, "Dumbledore is watching everything."

Master, you might as well tell me to buy a coffin...

"But the good news is, you don't actually have to steal anything. Just go through the motions to distract him."

Praise the master, you've made a wise decision...

"But this isn't the entire mission. You also need to..."

Lucius froze. He jolted awake after a shiver. "Master, after you said 'this isn't the entire mission,' I zoned out. Could you please repeat that?"

There was a clear moment of surprise from the other end of the line. After a long pause, the voice spoke again.