A Letter from Malfoy Manor

Thanks to esteemed reader "Jiujiumulin" for the capsule! One bonus chapter!!

Three days after the Glenmore Lake Incident was closed.

Tuesday morning.

Zhang Wen was writing the incident summary report in his office—Dumbledore had requested a formal document for filing with the Ministry of Magic. Old Nott's case had entered Wizengamot proceedings, and with Alastor Moody's on-site evidence and the tracking data, conviction was virtually assured.

Zhang Wen paused when he reached the "Personnel Involved" section.

"Line B personnel: Zhang Wen (Defense Against the Dark Arts professor), Artoria Pendragon (teaching assistant)."

He looked at the words "teaching assistant."

Putting that title on the King of Knights, who had once ruled Britain, carried an absurd sort of humor no matter how he looked at it.

"What are you smiling about?" Artoria came over carrying tea.

"Nothing. I was thinking about your job title."

"Teaching assistant. Is there a problem?"

"No problem. It's very accurate. You do teach. And you do assist."

Artoria glanced at him without pressing the matter. She set the tea beside his hand—positioned to the millimeter, exactly where his right hand would not bump into it while writing.

After two months, she had completely mastered his desk habits.

Zhang Wen picked up the tea and took a sip. Two spoonfuls of sugar. The temperature was just right.

Ordinary life.

He found that he had started to like that phrase.

At ten in the morning, a gray eagle owl flew in through the office window.

The breed was expensive—an eagle owl, a messenger commonly used by pure-blood families. A letter was tied to its leg, sealed with dark green wax.

The seal bore a snake and the letter M.

The Malfoy Family crest.

Zhang Wen removed the envelope. The eagle owl perched on the corner of the desk, clearly waiting for a reply.

There were two sheets of parchment inside.

The first was a formal invitation, written in handwriting so neat it was nearly printed:

"Dear Professor Zhang, Miss Pendragon:

"First, please allow me to express my sincere respect for your successful resolution of the Glenmore Lake Incident. Headmaster Dumbledore has informed me of the circumstances surrounding the event. As a member of the school board, I have the right to know of major incidents involving school security. Professor Zhang's command and coordination, along with Miss Pendragon's combat capability, were deeply impressive.

"For this reason, I hope to request your assistance with a personal matter.

"There is a Dark magical artifact stored in the basement of Malfoy Manor. It was collected by my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, during his lifetime, though its precise origins are unknown. Over the past two months, it has begun displaying unusual reactions—emitting a low-frequency hum and releasing trace amounts of Dark magical energy, causing cracks to appear in the walls around the basement.

"I have attempted to deal with it myself, but the artifact's layers of Shield Charms are exceedingly complex and far beyond my ability. The Ministry of Magic's Dangerous Magical Artifact Disposal Office is inefficient, and its personnel are untrustworthy—I do not wish outsiders entering the private areas of Malfoy Manor.

"In view of your exceptional performance in handling Dark magical matters—the use of a Basilisk Fang to destroy the cursed stone was particularly inventive—I sincerely invite Professor Zhang and Miss Pendragon to visit Malfoy Manor and conduct a preliminary assessment of the item. Frankly, Miss Pendragon's presence would put me more at ease—her performance in the Chamber of Secrets has caused the entire board to reassess Hogwarts's security capabilities.

"If you are willing, please come by Floo Powder at your convenience. Malfoy Manor's fireplace network has been opened to both of you.

"Yours sincerely,

"Lucius Malfoy"

The second sheet of parchment contained a brief description of the artifact—a hand-drawn sketch showed a black metal cabinet roughly thirty centimeters tall, its surface carved with runes.

Zhang Wen read the letter twice.

Then he handed it to Artoria.

After reading it, Artoria set down the parchment. Her gaze lingered a second longer on the sentence, "Miss Pendragon's presence would put me more at ease."

"Lucius Malfoy specifically invited me," she said.

"He's smart. He knows we're partners. Inviting only me would make him seem insufficiently sincere."

"What do you think?"

"Two possibilities. First, he genuinely has a Dark magical artifact he can't handle and needs help with. Second, it's a trap."

"Which do you think is more likely?"

"The first. After the Chamber of Secrets Incident, Lucius has been repairing his relationship with the school. His son trains under you. He currently has no motive to set us up—on the contrary, he has plenty of reason to build a good relationship with us."

"I agree. But you have other thoughts."

Artoria knew him too well.

"He's investing." Zhang Wen leaned back in his chair. "Lucius Malfoy does everything with an objective. Inviting us to handle a Dark magical artifact—on the surface, he's asking for help, but in reality, he's creating a debt of gratitude. He opens the gates of his manor and makes us owe him a favor. Someday, he'll use that favor to trade for what he wants. And he invited you—"

"He's showing goodwill toward me," Artoria continued. "The person who defeated the Basilisk. He wants to establish a direct connection with me instead of using you as an intermediary."

"Lucius's social strategy has always been to spread his bets. He won't put all his chips on one person."

"Political maneuvering."

"Standard pure-blood social etiquette. Owe each other favors, use each other."

"So, are we going?"

Zhang Wen looked at her.

"Do you want to go?"

"If you go, I'll go."

She said it with perfect naturalness. Like breathing.

Zhang Wen took a second to process that, then cleared his throat.

"We'll go. Three reasons. First, if there really is a Dark magical artifact in the manor that's beginning to lose control, leaving it alone is a safety hazard. Second, I want to see exactly how much stuff is hidden in Malfoy Manor's basement—Lucius being willing to open the doors means he has at least cleared away the things he most doesn't want seen, but what remains may still be valuable. Third—"

"Third?"

"Draco." Zhang Wen said, "He performed well when he trained with us in the Scottish Highlands. He's changing. But his home environment hasn't changed. Lucius is still Lucius. If we can establish a relatively normal channel of communication with Lucius—even one based on mutual use—it will be good for Draco."

Artoria considered it for several seconds.

"Reasonable."

"And I plan to bring two students with us."

"Who?"

"Draco and Harry."

Artoria stared at him for three seconds.

"You want to take Harry Potter to Malfoy Manor."

"Yes."

"Lucius Malfoy—the man who put Voldemort's Diary into Ginny Weasley's cauldron last year—his home."

"Yes."

"You're taking Harry Potter there."

"Yes."

"Your reason?"

"Harry and Draco's relationship improved subtly after the Scotland trip. But the root of their conflict lies at the family level—Potter's prejudice against Malfoy, Malfoy's prejudice against Potter. If Harry can see Malfoy Manor's true face with his own eyes—see Lucius's willingness to take the initiative in dealing with a Dark magical artifact—his understanding of the name 'Malfoy' may change."

"And the reverse is true too." Artoria followed his reasoning. "If Draco sees his father sitting in the same room as Harry Potter and speaking normally with him, his attitude toward 'Potter' may soften as well."

"Let the two children see that hostility can be put aside. Even if only temporarily."

Something shifted in Artoria's expression. It was not a smile, but a difficult-to-describe softness—lasting about a second before returning to normal.

"You are always thinking about your students."

"I'm a professor."

"You go beyond a professor's duties."

"Perhaps." Zhang Wen picked up his pen and began writing his reply—careful to refer to Artoria as "we." "Miss Pendragon and I gladly accept the invitation and will visit on Saturday morning this week. We will also bring two students as part of field instruction—Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. I hope Mr. Lucius will be informed."

He passed the reply to Artoria for review.

Artoria read it once and nodded.

"The wording is appropriate. Using 'field instruction' to justify bringing students makes it difficult for Lucius to refuse. Draco is his son, after all."

"Do you think he'll agree to Harry coming?"

"He will." Artoria said, "He demonstrated sincerity in his letter—specifically inviting me is proof. At this stage, he will not ruin a newly established channel of communication over a thirteen-year-old boy."

Zhang Wen tied the reply to the eagle owl's leg, and it spread its wings and flew away.

After sending the reply, Zhang Wen went to find Draco and Harry.

Draco was in the Slytherin common room.

When Zhang Wen arrived, Draco was playing wizard's chess with Blaise Zabini. Nott sat nearby watching—the quiet boy had grown closer to Draco recently. Since news of Old Nott's arrest had spread, Theodore's position within Slytherin had become delicate. Some students had begun avoiding him. Draco—much to Zhang Wen's surprise—had chosen to draw closer.

"Mr. Malfoy, I need to discuss something with you."

Draco looked up. On the chessboard, his knight was about to capture Zabini's bishop.

"Now?"

"You can take that piece first."

Draco ordered his knight to take the bishop, then stood and followed Zhang Wen to a corner.

"What is it?"

"Your father invited Professor Pendragon and me to Malfoy Manor. There is a Dark magical artifact in the basement that needs handling."

Draco's expression changed.

"The black cabinet in the basement?"

"You know about it?"

"I snuck in once when I was little." Draco said, "It scared me so badly that I didn't dare walk alone at night for three days. That cabinet hums. My father said it was an old antique and that I should leave it alone."

"Now it does more than hum. Your father says it has begun releasing Dark magical energy, and even the walls are cracking."

Draco did not look well.

"I'm planning to take a look this weekend," Zhang Wen said. "I want to bring you along."

"Why?"

"It's your home. You have the right to know what is hidden in your family's basement. And—if it requires long-term handling, you can help me with many things in the manor. You know the layout better than anyone."

Draco thought about it. His expression shifted from unease to seriousness.

"All right. I'll go. Is Assistant Pendragon going too?"

"Your father specifically invited her."

Draco's expression relaxed in a subtle way. Zhang Wen could tell—Artoria's presence reassured him. The woman who had defeated the Basilisk. If whatever was in the basement truly lost control, she could keep things under control.

"There's one more thing," Zhang Wen said. "I also plan to bring Potter."

Draco's face fell instantly.

"Potter? To my home?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he is my student, he has field investigation experience, and—I think the two of you should learn to coexist normally in the same space."

Draco's mouth twitched.

"Potter and I can coexist normally. As long as he doesn't open his mouth."

"Mr. Malfoy."

"...Fine. But if he touches my things—"

"He won't touch your things."

"If he mocks my family's decorating style—"

"He won't. Your family's decorating style is probably worth ten times his entire fortune. No one mocks something more expensive than himself."

Draco seemed satisfied with that logic.

Things did not go nearly as smoothly with Harry.

"Malfoy Manor." Harry repeated it, his voice as flat as the surface of the Black Lake. "Lucius Malfoy's home."

"Yes."

"Lucius Malfoy, the man who put the Diary in Ginny's cauldron last year."

"Yes."

"Professor Zhang, with all due respect—have you gone mad?"

"My mental condition has been certified as perfectly normal by Madam Pomfrey."

Harry glared at him. His green eyes plainly said, I don't believe you.

"Listen to me." Zhang Wen sat across from Harry. "Lucius has done many wrong things. He certainly bears responsibility for the Diary. But he is trying to do some right things—taking the initiative to deal with the Dark magical artifact in his home is one of them."

"Or maybe he's just afraid the thing will explode and destroy his manor."

"The motive is unimportant. The result is important. If that Dark magical artifact truly loses control, the affected area may extend beyond Malfoy Manor."

Harry fell silent.

"And Assistant Pendragon will be going too. Lucius specifically invited her," Zhang Wen added.

Harry's expression loosened slightly. With Artoria present, at least there was no need to worry about safety.

"Draco will be there too," Zhang Wen said.

"...That makes me want to go even less."

"Mr. Potter. You and Malfoy worked well together in the Scottish Highlands. You admitted it yourself."

Harry's mouth moved. He probably wanted to say, "That was outdoors, not in his house," but in the end, he said nothing.

"I'll go," he said. "But if Lucius gets sarcastic with me—"

"He won't. In his own home, he has to maintain the dignity of a host. Pure-blood social etiquette does not allow him to treat guests discourteously on his own territory. Besides, he invited Assistant Pendragon too—he'll act like a gentleman in front of her."

"Why would he behave himself just because Assistant Pendragon is there?"

"Because he saw her charge into the Chamber of Secrets with a sword in hand. Would you misbehave in front of someone who could fight a Basilisk alone?"

Harry thought about it.

"No."

"Lucius Malfoy wouldn't either."

Harry's expression showed that he had finally grasped the concept of "combat strength as social capital."

"Saturday?"

"Saturday morning."

"Fine."

Wednesday night.

Zhang Wen was organizing materials related to Malfoy Manor in his office.

After finishing Neville Longbottom's training, Artoria went to shower first—the training had intensified recently, and Neville was lasting more and more rounds, so Artoria had to take it more seriously too.

When she emerged from the inner room, her hair was still half damp. Golden strands rested over her shoulders, carrying the warmth of the hot steam.

Zhang Wen looked up at her.

Then lowered his head and continued reading.

Then looked up at her again.

Artoria walked over to the desk and sat down, beginning to dry her hair with a towel.

"What does your research say?" she asked.

"The history of the Malfoy Family. Abraxas Malfoy—Lucius Malfoy's father—was a well-known collector of Dark Magical artifacts in the early twentieth century. He was from the same era as Corban Nott, Old Nott's great-grandfather."

"Did they have dealings with each other?"

"Possibly. The pure-blood circle is small. People who collect similar things tend to know one another."

Artoria nodded. After drying her hair, she draped the towel over the back of her chair.

"You've been looking at me," she suddenly said.

Zhang Wen's fingers paused for a beat as he turned the page.

"Your hair isn't dry yet. You'll catch cold."

"I won't catch cold."

"Last week, you said you weren't cold, and then your ears turned red."

"That was because of the fireplace temperature—"

"The heat around a fireplace isn't evenly distributed. You used that excuse last time."

Artoria closed her mouth.

Zhang Wen picked up his wand from the desk and cast a Warm Wind Charm at her hair. A warm breeze blew from the tip of his wand, gently brushing through her golden hair.

Artoria remained seated without moving.

As the Warm Wind Charm passed through her hair, the golden strands lifted lightly in the airflow. She closed her eyes slightly.

"Comfortable?" Zhang Wen asked.

"...Acceptable."

"What does 'acceptable' mean on your rating scale?"

"It means very comfortable."

Zhang Wen smiled.

He continued for around three minutes. Her hair went from half wet to eighty percent dry, its texture changing from chilly dampness to warm fluffiness.

"There."

He lowered his wand.

Artoria opened her eyes. She reached up and touched her hair.

"Your control over the Warm Wind Charm is excellent. The temperature and force are both very even."

"I've practiced."

"You specifically practiced using a Warm Wind Charm to dry someone else's hair?"

"...I picked up the technique while drying my own hair."

"Your hair is very short. You don't need a Warm Wind Charm."

Zhang Wen decided not to answer that question.

Artoria did not press further. She lifted her teacup and took a sip, turning her gaze toward the window.

But Zhang Wen noticed—before drinking, she had brushed her hair behind her shoulder. The motion was very light. Then her fingers lingered at the ends for a second—as though she were feeling the warmth left behind by the Warm Wind Charm.

"About Malfoy Manor." Artoria returned to the subject. "What is your preliminary judgment about that black cabinet?"

"Too little information. I'll need to see it in person before I can judge. But based on the description—black metal, rune engravings, energy beginning to leak—it could be some kind of sealed container. Something is locked inside, and the seal is aging and failing."

"What is sealed inside?"

"I don't know. Abraxas Malfoy's tastes as a collector covered a wide range. It could be a cursed artifact, some kind of sealed Dark Magical Creature, or perhaps—"

"A Horcrux?" Artoria lowered her voice.

Zhang Wen was silent for two seconds.

"I can't rule it out, but it isn't very likely. Voldemort's Horcruxes have specific methods of creation and distinct traits. An ordinary collector's item is unlikely to be a Horcrux."

"But the Malfoy Family has deep ties to Voldemort."

"That's why we need to see it ourselves."

Artoria lightly tapped the rim of her teacup with one finger.

"Lucius Malfoy specifically invited me in his letter. That has one advantage—I can openly bring Excalibur into Malfoy Manor. If anyone questions why I am entering a private residence armed, my answer will be, 'The owner invited me.'"

"You always look at things from a tactical perspective."

"When a knight enters someone else's territory, being armed is part of proper etiquette. A knight accepting an invitation attends with her sword—it shows respect to the host, because it means you believe the occasion is worthy of appearing fully armed."

"Pure-bloods and knights have something in common when it comes to social etiquette."

"The rules of the powerful are always similar."

Thursday.

At the faculty meeting, Zhang Wen briefly reported the conclusion of the Glenmore Lake incident.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Filius Flitwick, and Snape were all present.

"Old Nott's trial is expected to take place in mid-December," Zhang Wen said. "The physical evidence Alastor Moody submitted is enough for a conviction."

"What about Theodore?" Snape asked.

The entire room fell silent.

"After Old Nott's arrest, Theodore's guardianship was temporarily taken over by the Ministry of Magic's child protection department," Zhang Wen said. "But the Ministry will most likely send him to some distant relative—another branch of the Nott Family."

"Those branches are no different from Old Nott." Snape's tone was icy.

"I know. So I've already spoken with Dumbledore. Theodore can remain at Hogwarts over the winter break. We'll work out a long-term solution next year."

Snape glanced at Zhang Wen. There was something in that look that he rarely showed anyone—approval.

"One more thing," Zhang Wen said. "This weekend, Professor Pendragon and I will be going to Malfoy Manor to handle a Dark Magical item. Lucius Malfoy invited both of us personally."

McGonagall's eyebrows rose two centimeters.

"Lucius Malfoy voluntarily invited you to his home?"

"To deal with an out-of-control collectible in his basement. He specifically mentioned Professor Pendragon in his letter—the Chamber of Secrets Incident gave him a thorough understanding of her abilities."

"You trust him?" McGonagall glanced at Artoria.

"I trust that he has sufficient reason to want that thing dealt with," Zhang Wen said.

"I trust that my sword can deal with any unexpected situation," Artoria said.

The corner of McGonagall's mouth twitched—she probably wanted to laugh but held it back.

"What support do you need from the school?"

"None for now. This is only a preliminary assessment. If things are complicated, we'll discuss it afterward."

Filius Flitwick raised his small hand.

"Professor Zhang, if the runes on that item are very complex, you may need professional rune analysis. I can help."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick. I'll bring back rubbings of the runes for you to examine."

Flitwick lowered his hand with satisfaction.

After the meeting, Snape stopped Zhang Wen in the corridor.

"When you go to Malfoy Manor—take your eyes with you."

"What do you mean?"

"That house has far more secrets than Lucius is willing to show you. What he allows you to see is certainly what he wants you to see. What he does not allow you to see—that is what truly matters."

Zhang Wen nodded.

"And—" Snape hesitated for a second. "With Pendragon there, Lucius will restrain himself considerably. But don't lower your guard just because he does. The more polite he is, the more it means he is plotting something."

"I'll be careful."

"And—" Snape paused again. "Thank you. About Theodore."

"You're welcome."

Snape turned and left. His black robes stirred up a gust in the corridor.

Friday night.

The final night before departure.

Zhang Wen and Artoria were confirming the next day's arrangements in the office.

"The plan is simple. Arrive at Malfoy Manor at nine in the morning. Assess the item. Copy the runes. If we can deal with it on the spot, we do. If not, we bring back the data and study it. Then we return to Hogwarts in the afternoon."

"Equipment?"

"I'll bring a Basilisk Fang, just in case. You bring Excalibur—though you carry it everywhere anyway."

"Of course."

"Do you have a plan for any possible conflict between Harry Potter and Malfoy?"

"Have them stand on opposite sides of us. You handle Harry Potter, and I handle Malfoy. Physical separation and personnel assignment."

Artoria's lips twitched.

"You treat taking students out like a kindergarten field trip."

"Two thirteen-year-old boys in an enclosed space—the risk level is about the same as a kindergarten field trip."

"I managed knights at Camelot who were harder to control than this. Mordred and Gawain got along even worse than Harry Potter and Malfoy."

"How did you handle them?"

"I had them carry out missions together. When facing external pressure together, internal conflicts are temporarily set aside."

"Same as my approach."

"Effective methods are always similar."

Artoria reached out and helped him straighten the scattered parchment on the desk. When her fingers passed in front of him, Zhang Wen caught a familiar scent—the mixture of tea leaves and dried hair.

Since he had dried her hair yesterday, that scent had kept circling in his mind.

"You're spacing out," Artoria said.

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"The structure of Malfoy Manor's basement."

Artoria looked at him for two seconds.

Her eyes clearly said, "What you were thinking about just now had nothing to do with the basement."

But she did not expose him.

"Go to bed early." She stood up.

"You too."

"I'm going on patrol first. I'll be back at midnight."

"Be careful."

"What danger is there to watch out for while patrolling Hogwarts?"

"Peeves."

"Last time, Peeves tried to pour an inkpot over my head. I knocked his inkpot into the wall. Now he takes a detour whenever he sees me."

"...I sympathize with Peeves."

Artoria walked to the door, then paused.

"Zhang Wen."

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow at Malfoy Manor—no matter what is in that basement—we'll deal with it together."

"Of course. If you go, I go."

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Zhang Wen realized they were exactly the same as what Artoria had said that morning: "If you go, I go."

The two of them fell silent for around two seconds.

"...You said it first," Zhang Wen tried to salvage the situation.

"I said, 'If you go, I go.' You said, 'If you go, I go.'" Artoria's tone was completely calm. "The same words. It means our thought patterns are converging."

"Partner synergy."

"Partner synergy," she repeated.

The door closed.

Zhang Wen sat in the office for a while.

He realized that the words "partner synergy" were beginning to sound more and more like a fig leaf.

Both of them were using it to conceal words that were more accurate, but also more dangerous.

For example—

Zhang Wen shook his head and drank the last sip of cold tea.

Tomorrow. Malfoy Manor. A black cabinet. Two students who might tear into each other. A smiling, scheming pure-blood patriarch.

And the King of Knights whose presence he was finding increasingly difficult to ignore.

Life was truly fulfilling.