Although he had only met Kreacher a few times, and most of what they had said to each other had been about practical matters, Draco had still managed, in that short span of time, to get a rough sense of the house elf who had suddenly attached himself to the Malfoys. No, more precisely, to Narcissa, who carried Black blood.
Kreacher might act half crazed in front of him, always muttering things no one else could understand, but Draco had still noticed that this house elf was hiding many secrets.
And those secrets were clearly very important to Kreacher. Judging from the way he behaved, they were something he would protect even at the cost of his life.
As for why Draco thought that, it was because Kreacher lifted his head at that moment...
'That look...'
For an instant, a hatred like something rising out of the abyss flashed across his face. The next second, it turned into guilt and self reproach.
A violent hatred toward someone.
And helpless fury directed at himself.
It was hard to imagine such complicated, shifting emotions appearing on a house elf. Wizards generally thought they had little individuality of their own, yet here he was, showing such intense emotional turmoil.
It was as though the subject just now had directly dragged up some unbearable memory from Kreacher's past...
'Is it because Dumbledore was injured? Or is it... Voldemort?'
Draco's gaze flickered slightly, but he did not voice the question in his mind, because he knew very well that even if he asked it, Kreacher would not answer.
Even if it meant death...
...
The silence continued until the sky outside gradually darkened, and only then did Draco come back to himself.
"So even Dumbledore could still be injured."
"That means things are quite serious."
After a pause, Draco leaned back into his chair again. That lazy, faintly elegant air returned to him, and the heavy atmosphere from just now vanished all at once.
Even so, Kreacher, still sprawled on the floor, did not move at all. If not for the sound of breathing and the occasional mutter under his breath, one might have thought he was already dead...
In any case.
Once Draco understood the major events currently taking place outside, he immediately realized that his opportunity might have arrived.
As for what kind of opportunity?
"So Father came back this time because something major is about to happen, did he not?"
"Yes, sir. Old Kreacher has already received orders to go receive the wizards who are coming, and Dobby and the others set out last night. In fact, old Kreacher should be leaving as well. If I do not go now, I will be discovered."
Hearing that, Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. "So for the next few days, not only my parents, but even you lot will not be in the manor, is that right?"
"Yes, sir. Just as you said."
That answer clearly pleased Draco, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
Without those house elves watching him, Lucius was obviously not worried at all that Draco might take the opportunity to leave the manor.
After all, with the magical mist activated, Draco had no way of leaving this place on his own.
In fact, even Lucius needed the house elves' help to enter and leave the manor.
In other words, as long as Dobby and the others were sent away and ordered not to go near Draco, Draco was destined to be unable to do much.
Only, Lucius, meticulous as ever, seemed to have forgotten one existence. One that was not included in that arrangement... Kreacher.
Because the one he obeyed was not Lucius.
It was Narcissa.
And Narcissa, who doted shamelessly on Draco, had apparently never once thought to place limits on everything Draco did during this period.
Draco grasped that immediately.
"Come find me tomorrow morning. And of course, do not let anyone notice."
"Yes, sir."
As Kreacher answered, the corner of his eye swept toward the letter Draco was holding.
There was nothing especially unusual about the letter. The only distinctive thing about it was the many strange patterns and lines drawn across it.
Carrot shaped earrings, for example, and odd little creatures that looked hand drawn...
...
Compared with the muggle world, everything in the wizarding world was certainly wondrous and convenient, but in exchange, it came with deeply worrying security problems.
Because for most wizards, gaining power was simply too easy.
As long as you attended school, obtained a wand, and learned spells, you already possessed a certain degree of offensive ability. Not to mention that even without a wand, a wizard was not completely incapable of using magic.
In other words, as long as a person held a wand and could use magic, every wizard possessed a certain level of danger. Or to put it another way, anyone could become a dark wizard.
How to regulate the use of wands had been something the Ministry of Magic had been trying to address in recent years. It was only after Voldemort started the first wizarding war that people in the magical world truly began to pay attention to the problem.
But before that issue could be solved, Voldemort had returned...
In short, even Dumbledore could not remain vigilant at all times, nor could he go without sleep or rest. Because of that, a hidden and secure residence had become something extremely important for every wizard.
Not to mention for ordinary wizards who lacked the ability to protect themselves.
That was exactly why having control of a Fidelius Charm was so important...
But not every wizard was capable of casting such an advanced charm. Just like the black building now standing before Draco's eyes.
"So this is the place?"
"Yes, sir. Old Kreacher can guarantee that this is the correct location."
The fierce wind whipped at their hair and clothes, and even the words at their lips were hard to hear clearly. It was the sort of scene that should never have appeared around Draco.
And more than that, it was obvious at a glance that the landscape behind Draco was nothing that could be found anywhere in Malfoy Manor.
Put simply, Draco was no longer inside the manor at all, but standing on the summit of some unknown mountain...
As his words fell, Draco lifted his gaze.
Far in the distance, reflected in the brightness of his eyes, stood a tall building.
It was the only building on that stretch of flat ground...
It was an utterly bizarre house, standing beneath the blue sky like a giant black cylinder, with a ghostly moon hanging in the afternoon sky behind it.
Strange.
Mysterious.
Only wizards could have such peculiar taste...