Lucius's Fear

He rushed out the door, his face ashen, cold sweat streaming down his forehead. He yanked the still-dazed Draco violently behind him, the force making Draco stagger.

Lucius stood in front of his son, facing Madara. Nothing remained on his face but a pale urgency bordering on supplication, and fear that ran to his very bones.

Draco stared at his father in astonishment. Lucius's expression was unfamiliar to him.

It was a mixture of fear, anger, humiliation, and a certain despair, utterly stripped of his usual composure and elegance.

His father did not even look at him. Those gray-blue eyes were fixed on Uchiha Madara, filled with an indescribably complex emotion.

Then, under Draco's disbelieving gaze, Lucius Malfoy—the head of the Malfoy Family, one of the most powerful pure-blood wizards in Britain—

bowed his ever-proud head to that black-haired boy, offering a deep, almost servile bow.

"Sir of the Uchiha Clan..." Lucius's voice was hoarse and urgent, carrying even a faint, barely perceptible tremor. He tried desperately to make his posture seem deferential rather than pathetic.

"Please forgive him! My son is young and ignorant. His words offended you; please... be magnanimous. He was merely... merely curious. He meant no harm."

The hand on Draco's shoulder gripped so hard its knuckles turned white. It was both restraint and support. He did not even dare look into Madara's eyes, lowering his gaze instead to the front of the other's robes.

Madara watched Lucius's performance, and the meaningful smile on his face finally shifted into clear, icy mockery. His gaze lingered for a moment on Lucius's face, which had aged ten years in an instant, before passing over Draco, whom Lucius held firmly behind him.

"No harm?" Madara repeated, his voice quiet, yet the surrounding air seemed to drop several degrees at once.

His scarlet Sharingan had appeared again at some point. They regarded Lucius calmly, as though they could pierce his skull and peer directly into the secrets buried in his soul.

"But what I saw and heard seemed to say otherwise."

He paused, then slowly took a step forward. Just one step.

Yet Lucius felt the air around him suddenly grow heavy.

It was not magic, nor was it a pressure charm, but something more primal—

as if all the surrounding shadows were drawing toward that boy, submitting to him.

The six Shadow Guards behind him remained silent, but their Sharingan all glimmered faintly at the same instant.

In that instant, Lucius's vision went black.

Countless fragmented images filled with blood-soaked killing intent surged uncontrollably into his mind: flashing blades, bloody mist, dying eyes... Though they vanished in a flash, his heart nearly stopped. His breathing became ragged, and cold sweat completely soaked through his silk shirt.

Lucius's body tensed abruptly. He nearly dragged Draco backward, but somehow forced himself to remain rooted in place.

"The matter of Flamel," Madara said, each word as clear and cold as ice beads striking a plate, "seems to have involved the Malfoy Family as well, doesn't it?"

Flamel!

The word struck Lucius like lightning!

His pupils contracted sharply, and his lips began to tremble violently.

The extermination of wizarding families was common in the wizarding world. It happened every day. Even Dumbledore, who styled himself the leader of the white wizards, had never stopped it.

But the Uchiha Clan represented by the boy before him did not recognize such "unspoken rules." They had appeared suddenly, and within a single month, every pure-blood family and major wizard-hunting organization that had taken part in the extermination had been wiped out. No matter how complex the magical defenses around their estates were, all had been reduced to ashes by mysterious flames.

The Ministry of Magic's investigation results had been vague, stating only that it had been an "unknown Dark magic conflict."

And there were also those distant relatives bearing the Malfoy name who had "disappeared" afterward...

He had not given the order directly, but he had allowed it.

As the head of the family, he could not absolve himself of responsibility.

"I..." Lucius opened his mouth, wanting to deny it, wanting to explain, but beneath the gaze of those scarlet eyes, every excuse he had prepared caught in his throat, turning pale and powerless.

Cold sweat ran into his eyes and stung, but he did not dare wipe it away.

"Think carefully before you speak, Lucius." Madara's voice softened, yet it carried an even deadlier threat. "Your answer is very important."

"It concerns... whether the Malfoy Family will still see tomorrow's sun."

It concerned the family's survival!

Lucius felt the world spin around him.

Seconds passed one by one, each so long that it was suffocating.

Lucius felt his heart pounding madly against his chest, as though it might shatter at any moment.

Though Draco did not understand what was happening, the name "Flamel" and his father's near-collapse filled him with bone-deep cold.

At last, Madara looked away.

He looked at Lucius's paper-white face and unsteady figure, and a nearly cruel curve lifted at the corner of his mouth.

"It seems your son..." Madara's gaze swept over Draco, whom Lucius still held tightly behind him, "really cares about the Malfoy Family's honor."

Lucius swayed, supported entirely by his cane.

"Let this matter rest for now, Lucius."

"Guard your spiderweb, Malfoy."

"Do not let it entangle something it should not."

He stepped forward, the Shadow Guards silently gathering around him.

After taking two steps, he seemed to remember something. He turned his head slightly and left behind one final remark:

"If you cannot figure it out, that is fine." His gaze brushed over Draco. "Your son will be entering Hogwarts this year as well..."

He paused, then let out a low, pleased chuckle devoid of warmth.

"You understand what I mean, Lucius."

Having said that, he did not spare the father and son another glance before turning away.

He walked deeper into Diagon Alley and soon disappeared from sight.

At the shop entrance, only several stunned young wizards remained, along with the Malfoy father and son, who looked as though they had just been pulled from icy water.

Lucius Malfoy stood rigidly, the hand clutching his cane shaking violently, veins bulging across its back.

Madara's meaningful glance and laughter before leaving were like a cold venomous snake slithering into his ears and coiling around his heart.

Draco was entering Hogwarts this year as well.

You understand what I mean.

Icy terror swallowed him whole. Lucius could no longer hold himself up and collapsed heavily against the doorframe, gasping for breath. His cane clattered to the ground, but he had no attention to spare for it.

Cold sweat streamed like rivulets, and his expensive robes clung wetly to his body, leaving him in a miserable state.

Draco stood there blankly, watching his father lose control in a way he had never seen before, watching the black figure vanish at the mouth of the alley.

Everything that had just happened felt like an absurd nightmare.

His father's servile bow, his trembling excuses, the suffocating pressure of those scarlet eyes, and that warning about the "spiderweb"...

Something deeper and colder than humiliation quietly seeped into the worldview that had been filled with pure-blood glory.

"Father?" Draco stepped forward cautiously, his gray-blue eyes full of confusion and unease.

"Are... are you all right? That person, just now..."

"Shut up." Lucius's voice was even hoarser than before, nearly forced through clenched teeth.

He spun around abruptly, his black robes swirling. The movement was so violent that he nearly knocked over a nearby rack covered in scarves.

Draco fell silent in fright.

Lucius did not look at him. A lock of blond hair at his temple, soaked with cold sweat, clung to his skin like ice.

During those brief minutes, he had felt as though he had been stripped naked and thrown beneath a spotlight.

Every carefully constructed disguise, every heritage he had taken pride in, every effort he had made to preserve appearances—all of it had been laid bare beneath those scarlet eyes and reduced to nothing.

And the most terrifying part was... he could not refute it. Because what the other party had said, damn it, was all true.

Lucius's chest heaved violently as dust drifted slowly through the afternoon light in the alley.

"Go." Lucius finally forced out a single word through his teeth, his voice so hoarse it was nearly broken. Without waiting for Draco to respond, he walked straight out of the shop, his steps faster and more hurried than usual, as though fleeing something terrible.

Draco hurried after him, turning back for one final look at the empty shop entrance. The brass bell above the door swayed gently in the breeze, making soft, scattered chimes, as if mocking something.

Outside, Diagon Alley remained bustling. The sunlight was warm, and the crowds flowed endlessly.