In the deep blue dawn, three owl postmen carrying that day's Daily Prophet flew over the wrought-iron gate and into the grand Malfoy Manor, where the Malfoy family was enjoying breakfast.
"Daddy, I want to see too," a golden-haired little boy said with hopeful eyes. He was too short for the chair, even perched atop a stack of thick cushions, he had to tilt his head back to speak.
Other things in the dining room were also out of his reach, like the silverware and plates, which were too heavy, making it difficult for him to eat. The others had almost finished, while his plate still had a third of its food left.
Draco spread the newspaper on the table so the little boy could see the moving pictures. Lucius and Narcissa looked up from their copy of the Daily Prophet, quietly watching.
"Scorpius can't read yet?" Narcissa asked.
Draco opened his mouth to speak. "I can read, Grandmother. I can spell out a hundred words," the little boy said, lifting his head and sniffling, "Mum was reading 'The Adventures of Little Wizard Mick' with me before she got sick, and she also wanted me to go to daycare to make friends."
The temperature in the dining room seemed to drop ten degrees, or perhaps it was Lucius' grey eyes that darkened the room's hue.
"It was just an idea," Draco said cautiously, "Go in the morning, pick him up in the afternoon. Scorpius could play games, listen to stories, learn math and spelling with other kids, and continue his magical education at home."
Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a glance. Lucius commented coolly, "The Greengrass family has raised a fine daughter."
"Father, aren't you also well-connected?" Draco retorted, "Right here! This table! Has hosted more than a batch of government officials. Every year, you spend at least half a month preparing proper gifts to visit..."
"That's different," Lucius interrupted impatiently. Narcissa shot her husband and son a stern look before turning to the boy, "Scorpius, have you finished?" "I have." "Come to Grandmother, little one. Haven't you always wanted to sneak into the study and cause mischief? There are many family portraits there, some even talk."
"Really?" Scorpius' eyes lit up. He quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin and slid off the cushions, "Is there a portrait of Great-Uncle Regulus? I've heard his story, a lone warrior facing the darkness!"
Narcissa's lips tightened, "Yes, in another room. I'll take you to see."
She led the little boy away, and the dining room fell silent. Draco and Lucius sat at opposite ends of the elaborately decorated table, silently observing each other, seemingly engaged in a silent contest of wills.
"There are guests coming this afternoon, stay," Lucius said, his pale, sharp face lined with wrinkles.
"Another bonding party?"
"Don't forget, you are a Malfoy!"
"That means nothing, I shouldn't have come back, I'm going to the hospital to visit Astoria."
A long silence followed, punctuated by the crackling of the fireplace. "Alright," Lucius said, suppressing his anger, "You are now the head of the Wizarding and Muggle Hospital, a position of great responsibility. As for Scorpius' education—"
"Don't trouble yourself, you seem to have more important things to worry about," Draco said stiffly, "I will never let my child stay in a room outside of the twelfth corridor. Compared to the manor where I've lived all my life, I miss that cramped safe house more."
The safe house originally belonged to Nicolas Flamel and was inherited by Felix, who lent it to the Malfoys to evade Voldemort's pursuit. Draco also lived there briefly. After the war, they naturally moved back to the luxurious Malfoy Manor, but Felix didn't reclaim the house.
Lucius' expression became distant. At that time, Selwyn was arrested by the Ministry of Magic, and to obtain a pardon, he confessed the names of several Death Eaters, including himself. But then, Harp publicly admitted that Lucius was a spy he had planted among the Death Eaters, allowing Snape, another spy, to remain more deeply hidden.
His attitude softened.
"How is Astoria?" he asked.
"The same," Draco immediately replied, "I cast healing spells on her every week or two, but the curse returns before long. It has become more evident since Scorpius was born."
"Your snake-wood wand—" Lucius said seriously, "is the wand every healer dreams of, made from a branch of Salazar Slytherin's wand. Even it can't cure the blood curse?"
"That curse is very powerful, a family
ancestor was cursed, and it has been passed down through the bloodlines for centuries... It manifested in her. In recent years, I've assembled the brightest minds from both the Muggle and wizarding worlds, tried every method, but still haven't fully conquered it."
"I told you to stay away from that family's woman!" Lucius raised his voice.
"You didn't say that at the beginning," Draco countered, "You and mother had high hopes for her: from one of the twenty-eight pure-blood families, equally wealthy, only later did you find out she had no interest in blood purity doctrines. The incurable disease didn't break her; instead, it gave her cheerful, optimistic, and compassionate qualities, which the Malfoy family lacks... I think it's dangerous for you to still be playing your little group games."
"Enough," Lucius shouted. He glared at his son, breathing heavily, "That was necessary rhetoric, to win people over, especially since Selwyn was always scheming against me, I had to retaliate."
"Even if it means standing against him?"
Draco asked sharply, "You know his stance. To my knowledge, he never actively explored his own origins, no one knows whether his biological parents were Muggles or wizards. In his eyes, there's no difference."
His son's words struck him, and Lucius broke out in cold sweat, remembering a polite young man.
No, a middle-aged man. No, that's not right; age seems to have no meaning for him. Lucius remembered the wedding two years ago, only a few close associates received handwritten invitations, no more than a hundred sent out.
Today, that invitation is kept in the Malfoy family vault.
Unlike others who had complaints—such as the small group not invited, made up of pure-blood families fortunate enough to escape purge—Lucius witnessed the couple's radiant smiles (even a hint of shyness) and was wholeheartedly in support of the wedding.
In his eyes, this was only slightly inferior to Felix Harp choosing a partner from a pure-blood family.
This attitude stemmed from Lucius' reflection on his family's destiny.
After the chaos brought by Dumbledore's era and Voldemort, the Malfoy family naturally had its preferences; they favored order and wished to establish a solid connection with those in power. When people cheered for the dawn of a new era, Lucius felt uneasy, realizing that Harp's era was unstable, people change, just like the former Dark Lord. Post-war, Harp was like a kite without strings, flying higher and higher, soon to vanish into the clouds, who knows when he'd grow tired of his current life and suddenly disappear.
Then a pair of hands caught him, and in the foreseeable future, more hands would be holding the kite.
Nothing excited the Malfoy family more than this news. As Bones stepped down and Kingsley took office, Lucius felt reinvigorated, carefully extending his feelers, but he found himself with a rival—Selwyn, who had betrayed him without hesitation in the interrogation room, both vying for the support of the remaining pure-bloods.
"I've received news," Lucius said calmly, "Mr. Harp intends to hand over the management of the Floating Island to Harry Potter."
Draco frowned.
"I remember Potter spending nearly half his time on the Floating Island for a few years; I thought it was because his relatives and friends were mainly there."
Lucius didn't respond, instead almost speaking to himself, "To take over the Floating Island, one needs to share the same vision and meet certain capability requirements. He's now the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, so his basic management skills are unquestionable, and as for personal strength..."
"Then there's even less to worry about," Draco said with a complex look.
"You've seen—" Lucius looked at Draco, then nodded, "It seems the news is true." He pointed at the newspaper on the table, "It's probably going to be announced during the Quidditch World Cup, his birthday is at the end of July, right? So young, not even thirty yet..."
Later that day, Draco, Narcissa, and Scorpius appeared on the Floating Island.
Narcissa, having stayed in the country for the past two years, was somewhat astonished by the sight before her: they stood at a high point on the Floating Island, surrounded by hundreds of fireplaces, but these were unlike any ordinary fireplace. Except for the four corners made of white stone, the rest was empty, resembling large and small stone pavilions, with flames burning in the air at their centers. She glanced back; the fireplaces behind them were the same, except the flames were changing from green to red.
In the blink of an eye, two more wizards stepped out of the flames, quickly orienting themselves before heading towards a small white building.
"That's the registration office," Draco explained, "First-time visitors must state their purpose and leave a strand of magic. This
wasn't originally a rule, but in recent years, as more people settled here, new procedures were added for easier management."
Narcissa remained silent, her attention drawn to a row of flying brooms crossing the sky, all painted blue.
"Those are public brooms, slower than regular flying brooms with a height limit, but the good thing is both wizards and Muggles can use them. There's a special spell on them that sticks people's buttocks to the broom, preventing first-timers from falling off," Draco said with an odd expression.
"I know! That's an invention from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Scorpius exclaimed excitedly, "I love that place!"
Narcissa gave Draco a glance, and he looked away expressionlessly.
They left the fireplace area and Apparated to a street, with Draco dutifully playing tour guide.
"The hospital is nearby; you and dad used to come often, but there have been big changes in recent years. Physically, the Floating Island has grown by a third compared to two years ago. By Muggle standards for a large city, it could accommodate ten million people, but currently, there are only about one million residents, which is already bustling for wizards. Oh, about one-third of these people are wizards, the rest are scientists and their families leading various large projects; government workers, company employees... including a significant number of tourists."
A deafening noise filled the air as a triple-decker bus appeared on the opposite side of the road. "The Knight Bus?" Draco remained noncommittal, leading them through a series of oddly shaped houses, all with distinctive wizarding features—casual with details, often defying certain physical laws, with a changing environment.
They passed through a low-hanging rain cloud, nearly brushing against the black clouds at the closest point, but a turn brought them into bright sunlight. A majestic white building appeared before them, the Wizarding and Muggle Joint Hospital, simply named without any prefix. The hospital's symbol was a serpent-entwined staff—both in Muggle and wizarding societies, this symbol could be associated with doctors.
Of course, a closer look revealed that the staff was a wand, and the serpent on it resembled the giant serpent entwined around the exterior of the Floating Island.
Across the hospital were specialty magic shops from around the world. With the Quidditch World Cup approaching, tourists began arriving on the island in droves. Draco saw familiar faces among a group of women and children, excitedly surrounding Luna Lovegood, who wore a particularly eye-catching outfit embroidered with various magical creatures, a strange blue brooch resembling a cracked eggshell pinned at her collar.
A man with brown hair, holding a camera, jogged over...
Scamander?
This thought circled in Draco's mind before being dismissed. They entered the hospital, greeted by Muggle doctors and wizard healers along the way, with Draco nodding in response. Narcissa watched silently, pride on her face.
He and Lucius indeed funded the hospital's initial construction, but it wasn't long before her husband rekindled his love for the game of power, moving back to Britain. Since then, she could only hear about the latest breakthroughs in curing diseases and selecting the best treatment methods from newspapers and family gatherings. She clearly felt a bit out of step with the times.
They arrived at the door of the high-level ward on the fifth floor.
A woman dressed as a nurse approached briskly, saying respectfully, "Mr. Malfoy, the Future World Company sent a letter stating that another fourteen precision instruments passed the magic test with guaranteed accuracy. We need your signature before we can accept them."
Draco quickly signed the documents.
He was about to push open the door to the ward when an assistant magically produced a memo, tearing off a page, "One more thing—Mr. Potter came by this morning to discuss an important matter, but you weren't at the hospital at the time."
"I understand, I'll contact him myself," Draco took the note, entering the ward.
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