The Basement

Many thanks to the esteemed reader "Crying Cat Head☆" for the grand certification!!! I hereby announce that from today onward, there will permanently be one extra chapter every day!!

Saturday, 8:45 a.m.

Four people stood before the fireplace at Hogwarts.

Zhang Wen checked everyone's condition.

Artoria—wearing a dark blue robe, her hair tied in a low ponytail, with the invisible Excalibur hanging at her waist. Her expression was calm. Ready for battle.

Draco—wearing a clearly carefully selected formal robe. Dark green, silver buttons, with a small Malfoy Family crest pinned at the collar. Being this formal just to return home—pure-blood ritualism had seeped into his bones.

Harry—wearing his best sweater. It had a large H on it. Mrs. Weasley had knitted it.

Zhang Wen looked at Harry's sweater, then at Draco's tailored robe.

The gap was bigger than the difference between Gryffindor and Slytherin's house points.

"All right." Zhang Wen grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. "Malfoy Manor. I'll go first. Artoria second. Potter third. Malfoy last."

"Why am I last?" Draco asked.

"Because you're the most familiar with the Floo Network. If something goes wrong with the people ahead, you can call for help from this side."

Draco thought about it and accepted the explanation.

Zhang Wen stepped into the fireplace and scattered the Floo Powder.

"Malfoy Manor."

Green flames swallowed him.

Spinning. Compression. Then—

Zhang Wen stepped out of an enormous fireplace.

The fireplace itself was large enough to fit three people standing inside. Its mantel was black marble, carved with reliefs of snakes and lilies. The flames within were a cold green—purely decorative.

He stood in the main drawing room of Malfoy Manor.

First impression—large.

Very large. The ceiling was so high that he had to crane his neck to see the top. The floor was dark oak, polished to a shine that reflected people. A row of Malfoy family portraits hung on the walls—blond men and women sitting in gilded frames across centuries, looking down on visitors with nearly identical expressions of arrogance.

Second impression—expensive.

Every piece of furniture gave off the air of "you can't afford me." The sofas were dark green velvet. The coffee table had been cut from a single piece of obsidian. A grandfather clock in the corner stood two meters tall, its silver pendulum engraved with Runes so fine they were almost invisible to the naked eye.

The fireplace flashed green again. Artoria stepped out.

She swept her gaze over the drawing room, her eyes lingering on each corner for less than a second.

"Six exits. Four windows. Two potential concealed firing positions—behind the pillars on either side of the fireplace."

She completed a tactical assessment of the entire room in three seconds.

"We're here as guests," Zhang Wen reminded her.

"Guests still need to understand the terrain."

The fireplace flashed for the third time. Harry staggered out—he had never been very good with Floo Powder travel. Once he steadied himself, he looked around the drawing room.

His mouth fell open.

It stayed open for about five seconds.

Then it closed.

"Don't say anything," Zhang Wen said quietly.

Harry nodded. His green eyes were full of comments he was desperately trying to suppress.

The fireplace flashed one last time. Draco stepped out—elegantly, unhurriedly, his feet landing steadily, the hem of his robe falling neatly into place. The posture of someone returning home.

He glanced at Harry's expression, and the corner of his mouth curved up slightly.

But wisely, he said nothing either.

Footsteps came from the corridor.

Lucius Malfoy appeared in the drawing room doorway.

He wore a black velvet robe and leaned on his snake-headed cane. His long blond hair was impeccably groomed. His face bore a carefully calibrated smile—warm enough to convey welcome, reserved enough to maintain distance.

The standard expression of pure-blood socializing.

"Professor Zhang. Miss Pendragon." His gaze fell on Zhang Wen first, then turned—very politely—to Artoria. He gave her a slight nod. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor."

"Thank you for your invitation, Mr. Malfoy," Zhang Wen said.

Artoria nodded without speaking.

Lucius's gaze lingered on her for one extra second—probably judging the location of Excalibur. With his experience, he should have been able to sense the pressure around Artoria that did not belong to an ordinary witch.

Then he saw Harry.

The warmth of his smile dropped by about half a degree.

"Mr. Potter." Lucius's voice remained courteous, but gained a layer of formal detachment. "I'm pleased you could come as well."

"Mr. Malfoy." Harry's voice was tight, but he was not rude.

Zhang Wen gave Harry ten extra points in his heart.

"Draco." Lucius looked at his son, and at last a trace of genuine warmth entered his expression.

"Father." Draco gave a slight bow.

Lucius nodded. His gaze rested on Draco for two seconds—probably assessing his son's condition. Zhang Wen noticed a swift movement at the corner of Lucius's eye—his gaze swept over Draco's arms and shoulders. He was examining the changes in Draco's physique.

Two months of physical training had made Draco visibly different from when school began. His shoulders were a little broader, and his posture was a little straighter.

Lucius had probably noticed.

"Please, sit." Lucius gestured toward the sofas. "Have some tea first. I'll have Dobby—"

He paused.

"I'll have the House-elves prepare tea and refreshments."

Zhang Wen noticed that he had changed his wording. Lucius had "lost" Dobby last year—after Harry freed him with a sock. Lucius was probably still annoyed about it.

A small elf wearing a clean pillowcase entered with a tea tray. It was not Dobby—it was another one, with larger ears and rounder eyes.

"Please enjoy your tea." The elf placed a cup before each of them in turn.

Zhang Wen picked up his teacup. Top-grade Darjeeling black tea. The Malfoy family crest was fired onto the porcelain. Even the teacups were flaunting wealth.

Artoria picked up her cup and took a sip.

Judging by how tightly her lips pressed together afterward, she rated it around seven out of ten.

Zhang Wen felt that the tea he brewed in his office could probably score an eight and a half.

That realization made him unreasonably happy for a second.

After ten minutes of small talk, Lucius stood.

"Everyone, please follow me. I'll take you to the basement."

The entrance to Malfoy Manor's basement was behind the main staircase—an inconspicuous iron door with three layers of locking charms on it. Lucius unlocked them one by one with his wand.

When the door opened, a chill gust of air rushed toward them.

The staircase was narrow, allowing only one person through at a time. Magical wall lamps were set into the stone walls every two meters, giving off a dim green light.

"Watch your step." Lucius walked in front.

Zhang Wen followed behind him. Artoria was behind Zhang Wen. Draco and Harry followed after her.

Zhang Wen noticed that Artoria's right hand remained at her waist—where Excalibur was.

Her vigilance never diminished in unfamiliar environments.

After descending about thirty steps, another door appeared at the end of the staircase. This one was thicker than the door above—iron, its surface marked by rust and scratches.

Lucius pushed it open.

The basement was far larger than Zhang Wen had expected.

It was about the size of three classrooms. The ceiling was very low—just over two meters, perhaps. Artoria nearly hit the top of the doorframe when she entered.

The temperature inside was at least five degrees lower than outside. The air carried a stale scent—dust, old metal, and some indescribably cloying sweetness.

The scent of lingering dark magic. Zhang Wen's nose could recognize it now.

The basement was filled with all sorts of things.

Shelves held glass jars of various sizes—filled with liquids of different colors and things Zhang Wen did not particularly want to inspect closely.

Several old shields and rusty swords hung on the walls—purely collectibles, with no practical combat value.

In one corner stood a dust-covered glass display case containing jewelry and small metal objects.

Lucius led them past these collections toward the deepest part of the basement.

"Most of these are collections left behind by my grandfather." Lucius's tone carried a subtle sense of distance—he was drawing a line between himself and these things. "I've cleared away some of them—according to Ministry of Magic requirements—but there are items whose nature I cannot determine, so I have retained them for the time being."

"According to Ministry of Magic requirements" meant, I hid the things least fit to see before you came. Zhang Wen understood perfectly.

They stopped at the end of the basement.

The thing was there.

A black metal cabinet.

It was roughly thirty centimeters tall and twenty centimeters wide. The material looked like iron, but its surface had an unnatural sheen—it was too black, so black that it almost seemed to absorb the surrounding light.

Runes were carved onto all four sides of the cabinet. Their style was ancient—Zhang Wen gave them a rough look and found at least three different rune systems mixed together. There were ancient Northern European Runes, Anglo-Saxon variants, and symbols he did not recognize at all.

The cabinet had no handle. No keyhole. No mechanism that could open it.

It was humming.

A low, continuous hum. It was not loud, but once noticed, it could not be ignored. The sound seemed to come from inside the metal—the whole cabinet was vibrating at a certain frequency.

Zhang Wen stepped closer.

The humming grew slightly louder.

He scanned it with his wand—the dark magic energy reading immediately soared.

"The reading is three times higher than the stone from Glenmore Lake." Zhang Wen frowned.

Artoria stepped closer as well. Her fingers lightly pressed against Excalibur's hilt—she had sensed something.

"It's rejecting me," she said.

"Rejecting you?"

"When Excalibur approaches, its hum changes. The frequency rises. It's like a warning."

Zhang Wen looked at the cabinet. Indeed—after Artoria approached, the hum had clearly become sharper. Excalibur was a holy sword, representing positive magical power. It was perfectly reasonable for a dark magic object to react against it.

"It can sense external threats," Zhang Wen said. "That means whatever is inside the cabinet has some degree of awareness—or at least a stress response."

Lucius stood several steps away, his silver cane planted on the floor.

"Two months ago, it only hummed occasionally. A month ago, it began vibrating continuously. Two weeks ago—" He pointed at the wall with his cane.

Zhang Wen followed where he pointed.

There were cracks in the wall. Not ordinary cracks from age—they radiated outward from the cabinet like a spiderweb, covering the surrounding stone wall within a two-meter radius.

"The cracks are still expanding," Lucius said. "They grow by roughly two to three centimeters every day. At this rate, they may affect the manor's foundation structure in a month."

Zhang Wen crouched down and carefully examined the runes on the cabinet's surface.

He took out a special charcoal pencil and a sheet of rubbing paper, then began copying the runes.

"These runes are sealing charms." He analyzed them as he made the rubbings. "At least three layers. The outer layer consists of binding runes from the Northern European Runes system—preventing the contents from moving. The middle layer consists of Anglo-Saxon suppression runes—suppressing the magical output of the contents. The Inner Layer—"

He paused.

"I can't read the Inner Layer. The symbol system does not belong to any European rune tradition I know."

"It may be an older system," Artoria said.

She crouched beside Zhang Wen, her eyes fixed on the runes. Her face was about twenty centimeters away from his.

Zhang Wen could smell her—a mixture of tea leaves and the soap she had used before leaving that morning.

He forced his attention back onto the runes.

"There are several Inner Layer runes I've seen in documents from the Camelot era." Artoria's tone suddenly turned serious. "These—" She pointed to a string of curved symbols at the bottom of the cabinet. "They are ancient Celtic sealing runes. Older than the Northern European Runes system. They date from roughly the fifth to third centuries BCE."

Zhang Wen looked at her.

"You're sure?"

"In Camelot, Merlin used similar runes to seal dangerous magical constructs. I saw it many times."

A Merlin-level seal.

Zhang Wen's mind raced.

One cabinet, three layers of seals—Northern European Runes, Anglo-Saxon, ancient Celtic. Sealing techniques from three different eras and cultures layered on top of one another.

This did not look like something made all at once. It was more like—

"Someone reinforced it multiple times across different periods," Zhang Wen voiced his deduction. "The first seal was the oldest—ancient Celtic. Then, at some later point, a second layer was added—Anglo-Saxon. Finally, a third layer—Northern European Runes. Every layer was the most advanced sealing technique of its era."

"Why add three layers?" Draco asked. He had been standing behind them, listening quietly the entire time.

"Because the earlier seals stopped being enough." Zhang Wen stood. "Whatever is inside is growing stronger—or waking up. Every so often, its power grows to the point where it can break through the current seal, and then someone reinforces it with a newer technique."

"But now even three layers aren't enough," Lucius said.

"Right. It's breaking through the third layer—the outermost Northern European Runes seal. The humming and the cracks are both signs of the seal being forced apart by pressure from within."

"When will it break through completely?"

Zhang Wen glanced at the speed at which the cracks were spreading and the frequency of the hum.

"At the current rate—roughly four to six weeks."

Lucius's expression changed. Four to six weeks—around Christmas.

"If it breaks through the seal—what will happen?" Harry asked.

"That depends on what's inside," Zhang Wen said. "But considering it requires three layers of seals from different eras to suppress it—whatever it is, releasing it will not be a good thing."

The basement fell silent for several seconds. The humming became even clearer in the silence.

Zhang Wen spent half an hour completing all the rune rubbings. Four sides, the top, and the bottom—six sheets in total.

"I need to take these rubbings back to Hogwarts for Professor Filius Flitwick to analyze. He's an expert in runes. Also—" Zhang Wen looked at Artoria. "You said you recognize ancient Celtic sealing runes. Can you interpret the full meaning of the Inner Layer?"

"I need time. I remember some of it, but not all. Merlin's sealing system was extremely complex. Each rune had a different meaning in different arrangements."

"We'll study it together after we return."

Artoria nodded.

Zhang Wen gave the cabinet's exterior one last inspection. He noticed a line of tiny lettering along the bottom edge—where it met the floor. It was so small it was nearly invisible. He had to lie on the ground to barely make out a few letters.

"A.M.—1927"

A.M.—the initials of Abraxas Malfoy. The year 1927.

"Your grandfather acquired this thing in 1927?" Zhang Wen asked Lucius Malfoy.

"Possibly. My father never told me much about where his collection came from. He died in 1962, taking most of his secrets with him."

1927. Nearly seventy years ago.

This cabinet had sat silently in the basement of Malfoy Manor for nearly seventy years. The three layers of seals had suppressed it for nearly seventy years.

Now, the seals were beginning to fail.

Why now?

After coming up from the basement, Lucius Malfoy arranged lunch.

The dining room was as large as the sitting room. The long table could seat twenty, though only one end was in use today. Five people sat around the head of the table—Lucius Malfoy sat at the head, with Zhang Wen and Artoria on the left, Draco and Harry on the right.

The physical separation had succeeded.

Lunch was as lavish as the tableware was expensive—roast venison, truffle soup, salmon mousse, and a whole roasted pigeon.

Artoria's eyes lit up for half a second when she saw the menu.

Zhang Wen pretended not to notice.

But he did notice that Artoria ate the roast venison about twelve percent faster than usual.

More than Shepherd's Pie's eight percent.

A new record.

"Miss Pendragon." Lucius Malfoy spoke as Artoria began cutting her third piece of venison. "I hear you've been training my son—in fitness and swordsmanship."

"Yes."

"I've noticed Draco's changes." Lucius Malfoy glanced at his son. "He's become considerably sturdier since the summer holidays."

Draco's back straightened slightly.

"Assistant Professor Pendragon's training is..." Draco paused, apparently weighing his words. "Very effective."

Zhang Wen guessed he had originally wanted to say, "Absolutely insane."

"Physical training is the foundation." Artoria set down her knife and fork and gave Lucius Malfoy a formal response. "Draco's talent is not poor. His problem is that he previously lacked systematic physical training. Wizards rely too heavily on their wands and overlook the support that physical fitness provides for magical control."

"An interesting viewpoint." Lucius Malfoy's tone carried a hint of scrutiny. "Pure-blood families generally believe that bloodline and magical talent are the decisive factors. Physical training is—if you'll forgive me—a practice closer to that of Muggles."

Zhang Wen felt the temperature in the air drop by a degree.

Artoria looked at Lucius Malfoy.

"In my era, the strongest knights were also warriors with the finest physical conditioning. King Arthur himself trained for four hours every day. Lancelot trained for six. Their strength came from both talent and acquired refinement. Neither could be absent."

Her voice was calm to the extreme. Yet that very calmness carried an irrefutable weight.

Lucius Malfoy looked at her.

Then he did something that mildly surprised Zhang Wen—he smiled. A genuine smile.

"You make a valid point." Lucius Malfoy raised his wineglass. "To your teachings. Draco is fortunate to have you as his mentor."

Artoria gave a slight nod.

Zhang Wen noticed that when Artoria mentioned "King Arthur," her tone was exactly the same as when she spoke of the other knights. There was no trace of personal identification.

She was referring to herself in the third person.

A flawless disguise.

But Zhang Wen saw her left hand beneath the table—her ring finger curled slightly.

Whenever Camelot's past was mentioned, her ring finger made that tiny movement.

The mark left by a crown she had once worn upon that finger.

Zhang Wen extended his left hand beneath the table.

His fingers brushed the back of Artoria's hand.

Very lightly. Only for a second.

Artoria's fingers stopped moving.

She did not turn to look at him. But her hand turned over—palm up—and before Zhang Wen could withdraw his fingers, her fingertips touched his.

Then both hands withdrew.

The entire exchange took less than two seconds.

Above the table, neither of their expressions changed.

Below the table—

The warmth of her lingered on Zhang Wen's fingertips.

He suddenly thought lunch tasted particularly good.

After lunch, Lucius Malfoy showed them around the manor gardens.

"Let the two children get some fresh air," he said.

In reality, Zhang Wen suspected he wanted Draco to show off his family's peacocks in front of Harry—Malfoy Manor kept a flock of white peacocks.

Sure enough.

"Those peacocks are pure white albino variants." Draco's voice carried a trace of restrained pride. "Only three families in the United Kingdom have them."

Harry looked at the white peacocks strolling leisurely across the lawn, his expression complicated.

"They're beautiful," he finally said.

Draco clearly had not expected Harry to praise them outright. He froze for a moment.

"...They are pretty beautiful," he said, his voice a little lower than before.

Zhang Wen exchanged a look with Artoria behind them.

Progress. Tiny, fragile progress that could regress at any moment. But progress nonetheless.

"Peacocks are an introduced species in Britain," Artoria suddenly said.

Both boys turned toward her at once.

"There were no peacocks in Camelot's time. After the Romans withdrew, the first peacocks were brought to Britain by merchants from Byzantium. Around the sixth century."

"How do you know that?" Draco asked.

"I have read relevant documents," Artoria said without changing her expression.

Zhang Wen silently added in his heart—she had not read the documents. She had seen the first peacocks arrive in Britain with her own eyes.

"We should discuss how to handle the cabinet going forward." Zhang Wen brought the subject back and looked at Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy nodded.

The two of them—along with Artoria—walked to a corner of the garden. Draco and Harry were left beside the peacocks.

"Our preliminary assessment," Zhang Wen said. "The cabinet contains some kind of sentient entity. The three layers of seals are being broken through by pressure from within. We have four to six weeks to deal with it."

"And the methods?" Lucius Malfoy asked.

"Two possibilities. First, reinforce the seals. Add a stronger fourth seal atop the existing three and suppress it again. That is the most conservative option, but it only treats the symptoms. The seals will eventually be broken through again."

"And the second?"

"Open the cabinet. Find out exactly what is inside. Then eliminate or deal with it accordingly. That would address the root of the problem, but the risk is higher—we don't know what we'll face after opening it."

Lucius Malfoy fell silent for several seconds.

"Which do you recommend?"

"The first option, for now—to buy time. Then we return to Hogwarts to study the Runes, consult documents, and analyze the nature of the contents. Once we have enough information, we can decide whether to carry out the second option."

"How long will that take?"

Zhang Wen glanced at Artoria.

"Give us three to four weeks," Artoria said. "I know a little about the Ancient Celtic Seal. Combined with Professor Filius Flitwick's expertise in Runes, we can complete a full analysis within that time."

Lucius Malfoy looked at Zhang Wen, then at Artoria.

"Then while you are researching—what do I need to do?"

"Monitor the cabinet's condition. Record the frequency of the humming and the speed at which the cracks expand every day. If there are any sudden changes—notify us immediately."

"Very well." Lucius Malfoy nodded. "And—"

He hesitated.

"And what?"

"About Draco." Lucius Malfoy lowered his voice slightly. "If this thing is truly dangerous—I do not want him involved in the follow-up operation."

"He is your son. That is your decision to make."

"But he will want to participate." Lucius Malfoy said, "He has changed a great deal recently. He has become more... proactive. I'm not sure whether that is a good thing or a bad thing."

"It's a good thing," Zhang Wen said.

Lucius Malfoy looked at him.

"Professor Zhang, you seem to understand my son better than I do."

"I have simply spent more time with him."

Lucius Malfoy was silent for two seconds.

"Perhaps I should do the same."

His voice was very soft.

Zhang Wen did not respond. Some words did not need a response.

Three in the afternoon.

The four stood before the fireplace at Malfoy Manor, preparing to return.

"Professor Zhang, Miss Pendragon." Lucius Malfoy saw them to the sitting room. "Thank you both for coming today. Malfoy Manor will always welcome you back."

"We'll complete the rune analysis as quickly as possible," Zhang Wen said. "We'll give you preliminary results within two weeks."

"I look forward to your good news."

Artoria walked to the fireplace, then looked back in the direction of the basement.

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Please."

"Until we return—do not go down to the basement alone. The cabinet's repulsion indicates that it is becoming more sensitive to outside stimuli. There is no point in you being near it alone. On the contrary, you may provoke it into breaking through the seals faster."

Lucius Malfoy's expression shifted subtly.

Being addressed in such a commanding tone by a blonde woman who looked twenty years younger than him was probably a first in his social experience.

But he nodded.

"Understood."

Artoria turned and stepped into the fireplace. Green flames swallowed her.

Before Zhang Wen followed her in, he saw Lucius Malfoy's expression—reverence mixed with a hint of confusion.

He was probably wondering—just who was this woman?

Back at Hogwarts.

Harry and Draco returned to their respective common rooms. When they parted, neither rolled his eyes at the other—something that would have been impossible three months ago.

Zhang Wen and Artoria returned to their office on the third floor.

Zhang Wen spread the six rune rubbings across the desk.

"A new case." He looked at those intricate symbols. "An unknown entity suppressed by three layers of seals for who knows how many years. The seals are failing. A four-to-six-week countdown."

"Malfoy Manor right after Glenmore Lake." Artoria stood beside the desk, studying the rubbings. "Your schedule is rather full."

"It's not as though I went looking for work. Trouble came looking for me."

"Trouble always finds you."

"You make it sound as if you know me very well."

"I do know you very well."

Zhang Wen looked up at her.

Artoria lowered her eyes to the rune rubbings. The fireplace light fell across her profile, outlining its clean, defined lines. Her golden hair fell over her shoulders—the afternoon wind had loosened her low ponytail, and she had not tied it again.

"Your hair has come loose," Zhang Wen said.

"Mm."

"Would you like me to tie it for you?"

Artoria lifted her gaze from the runes and looked at him.

"You know how to tie hair?"

"No. But I can learn."

Artoria looked at him for three seconds.

"No need. I can do it myself."

She gathered her hair behind her, efficiently tying it into a ponytail.

"But—" She paused. "Thank you for offering."

Zhang Wen smiled.

Then he lowered his head to look at the runes.

But for at least the next three minutes, he could not focus at all.

Because when Artoria tied her hair, she had raised her arm and exposed a small patch of skin along the side of her neck.

Very fair.

Just that tiny patch.

Three minutes later, Zhang Wen finally pulled his attention back to the runes.

A new mystery awaited him. A black cabinet. Three layers of seals. Unknown contents. A four-to-six-week countdown.

But for now—

The fire was burning. The tea was steaming. She was beside him.

He thought this was very good.

The mystery could wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, tea came first.