Malfoy Family

Dewey had come up with a bold idea and quickly devised a plan—a plan to throw every useless fool in the Ministry of Magic into Azkaban.

The plan had been circling around in his mind for a long time, but it was always missing one piece.

An important turning point.

Now, hearing Kingsley's words, Dewey suddenly understood.

That important turning point had arrived.

Voldemort.

Or rather, people's fear of Voldemort!

He could use that fear to accomplish all sorts of things.

In an instant, he pieced everything together and understood what he needed to do. He even ran through the plan over and over in his mind.

The plan is viable.

Dewey quickly decided that it could work.

And that meant his trip to Hogwarts was absolutely essential!

The plan hinged on him keeping his position secure through Harry Potter's third year and acquiring more Cards. If he wanted to harness the power of fear, he needed to become fear itself—or, at the very least, be able to protect himself from it.

He still couldn't protect himself.

Not even from one-seventh of Voldemort.

He might not even be a match for elite wizards like Snape or McGonagall.

Voldemort had been at his weakest, and his mind had been damaged. Yet at the very end, even after all his Horcruxes had been destroyed and the Elder Wand had betrayed him, he had still managed to hold off McGonagall, Kingsley, and Horace Slughorn all at once. That showed just how terrifying Voldemort was.

In the Deathly Hallows, everyone present—everyone who stood against Voldemort—had been protected by Harry Potter's protective enchantment of love. That meant the Unforgivable Curses might not work on them.

Even so, Voldemort had blown a Hogwarts deputy headmistress, an elite Auror from the Ministry of Magic, and a retired but formidable wizard away with a single spell.

Dewey was certain he couldn't withstand even one of Voldemort's spells. Voldemort really was going to return!

Dewey had the Dark Mark on his arm.

When the Dark Lord summoned them, the Marks on the Death Eaters' arms would grow hot.

Then the summoned Death Eaters would have to go and see Voldemort. Anyone who refused would be hit with Avada Kedavra, no matter where they tried to hide.

From Tom to Voldemort, the noseless demon with the flat face had always liked killing people with his own hands.

A faint sense of urgency began to stir in Dewey. It only made him more excited.

What a thrill.

He reined in his dangerous thoughts.

Dewey chatted with Kingsley for a while, then went to bed. The next morning, at seven, Kingsley woke him.

Harry Potter and his friends had already packed their things and were getting ready to board the train.

When they saw "Professor Lupin" come out of the Leaky Cauldron, they greeted him timidly.

Dewey's gaze settled on Ron. Scabbers should have been in his jacket pocket, but Dewey hadn't seen him since yesterday.

Sharp eyes and a keen sense of danger. An interesting prey. Did he become depressed after Sirius escaped from Azkaban, then hide in advance when he saw me?

Dewey knew that Scabbers had chosen to run away after realizing he was there.

Peter Pettigrew knew that his Animagus form could easily be recognized by people close to him.

As soon as he saw Lupin—or heard his voice—he had chosen to run, without hesitation.

But Ron didn't seem particularly downcast.

Dewey felt there had to be more to it.

Perhaps Scabbers hadn't run away?

With his head lowered, Dewey climbed onto the bus. He spotted a cat—Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, if he remembered correctly. The ugly-looking cat saw Lupin and instinctively arched his back, his fur standing on end!

"No, Crookshanks, don't do that."

Hermione spoke softly as she stroked Crookshanks, trying to calm him down. But Crookshanks let out a threatening hiss.

Hermione looked embarrassed and helplessly glanced at "Professor Lupin." Kingsley, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around to help the girl out. "Looks like this cat doesn't like you very much, does he, Lupin?"

Dewey smiled. "That's right. Is he your pet, Hermione? What's his name?"

"His name is Crookshanks, Professor."

Hermione answered quietly.

Dewey nodded and looked at Harry. "And what about your pet, Harry? An owl? I hear young wizards like fluffy owls. They can deliver your letters, can't they?"

"Yes, Professor. I have an owl. Her name is Hedwig."

Harry answered. Afterward, he wanted to ask Professor Lupin some questions.

He wanted to know if Professor Lupin had really known his parents. Harry knew so little about them. He had seen them only once, in the Mirror of Erised. Otherwise, Aunt Petunia never mentioned her sister and brother-in-law.

The other wizards hardly ever talked about them, either.

"They were killed by a car."

Uncle Vernon had once told him that.

Harry remembered it vividly.

He didn't know what his parents had looked like. The less anyone told him, the more he wanted to know. Now he had finally met someone who might have known his parents, and his heart was so restless it felt as if a cat were scratching at it.

But there were too many people around. Harry Potter nervously licked his lips several times, but still couldn't bring himself to ask.

Dewey glanced at Harry, then finally got to the point.

He turned to Ron Weasley, who looked just as nervous, and asked gently, "What about you, Mr. Weasley?

Hmm, what was your name again?"

"Ron Weasley, Professor."

Ron's ears reddened. Dewey said warmly, "And what's your pet, Ron?"

"A rat. Scabbers."

Ron answered.

"Where is he, then?"

Dewey continued. "Is he here? I don't see him. Is he a Fantastic Beast?"

"He's not here. My brother took him."

As he spoke, Ron cautiously stole a glance at Crookshanks. Dewey looked at Crookshanks, too.

So it was because of Crookshanks—or at least, Ron thought it was because of Crookshanks—that Scabbers didn't want to stay with him.

Hermione's cat was remarkable. His intelligence clearly surpassed the limits of an ordinary cat. He could probably understand a lot of human language and even grasp how many human inventions worked.

More importantly, he also knew about the note Neville had left on his bedside table, which contained the password to open the door.

He could even see through an Animagus.

It sounded unbelievable, didn't it?

After all, he was only a cat, not an Animagus.

But that was why Dewey loved the magical world. Anything could happen there. The logic that held true in the Muggle world didn't always apply in the magical one.

Dewey didn't ask any more questions. He closed his eyes and thought about what to do next.

The Ministry of Magic's hired bus was extraordinary. Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed out the windows as it somehow made its way from the back of the traffic to the front without any Muggles seeming to notice.

Kingsley was tense, too, gripping his wand tightly as he watched for a possible attack.

Only Dewey was truly relaxed.

The most dangerous person the Ministry of Magic needed to watch out for was already on the bus. Where would anyone on the street even find the nerve to attack?

As long as I don't make a move, nothing will happen here.

Dewey closed his eyes and rode the bus to King's Cross Station. He got off with his luggage and took another small sip of Polyjuice Potion.

He looked at the bustling station and let out a breath.

"Goodbye, Kingsley."

Dewey waved to Kingsley, who finally let out a sigh of relief. He watched as Dewey led the three children through to Platform 9 3/4 and into the bustling crowd.

Lupin led the three children toward the train. Before they boarded, Dewey spotted someone familiar.

More precisely, a familiar family.

The Malfoys.

No matter how busy he was, Lucius Malfoy always personally saw his son off at the station. It wasn't because he cared that much about the boy; it was because his wife insisted.

Narcissa Malfoy was domineering at home. She was the true master of the Malfoy household.

When Lucius saw Lupin, a smug, contemptuous smile appeared on his face.

He strode toward Lupin.

With menace in every step.

Dewey looked at the man's contemptuous grin and motioned for the three children to go find seats.

The three of them looked at Lupin anxiously. They could tell that Lucius Malfoy meant trouble.

"I'll be fine. Go on and get aboard. If you can, save me a seat."

Dewey spoke gently. The three children nodded, reluctant to leave, but Hermione tugged the two boys along, and they finally went onto the train.

Dewey watched Lucius approach.

His gaze swept over the three people opposite him, lingering briefly on each.

Of the three, he liked Narcissa Malfoy best.

Compared with her foolish husband, Narcissa was the one he was most likely to use.

Of course, she might well be the one most likely to use him, too.

Narcissa had never known the meaning of loyalty. There was only one thing that mattered most to her.

Family!

Or rather, her son.

For her son, she could betray Tom, her own sister, or anyone else.

Someone like that made a business partner worth dealing with.