As exhilarating as it was to kill Barty Crouch Jr., Lucius now felt just as regretful.
He thought collaborating with Dumbledore was a good idea—after all, Voldemort always feared Dumbledore the most.
So many years have passed, the Death Eaters' power is practically nonexistent, even if the Dark Lord returns... what difference does it make?
The Malfoy Family will always stand on the winning side. As long as Dumbledore takes down Voldemort, he can maintain his current lifestyle by choosing the right side in time.
Even... after Crabbe, Avery, and Yaxley were all captured and thrown into Azkaban, he could take the opportunity to accumulate more wealth for the Malfoy Family, just enough to earn back all the Galleons wasted on bribing the Ministry of Magic over the years in one go!
His plan was well thought out, and he was sincere when working with Dumbledore... but who could have predicted?
First, the Witch Pure Party suddenly intervened, preventing him from notifying Dumbledore to arrive at the monastery in time, and then Voldemort actually escaped!
That Dark Lord, even if alone, is enough to make the entire Magic World shudder. Especially now that he is back to his former self, without any burdens beside him, he feels more terrifying than before!
Though they all wore masks at that gathering, Lucius would not dare to hope that Voldemort wouldn't recognize him.
And among those imprisoned in Azkaban, his name was absent; Lucius suspected that Voldemort already knew who had betrayed him!
Hiding in this ordinary Muggle Community, Lucius never dared to put down his Magic Wand. He imagines the scene of the Dark Lord suddenly breaking into his home, cold sweat trickling down his temples, soaking the collar of his expensive silk shirt.
"I made a fatal mistake, Cissy." Lucius said hoarsely, "I knew all along that, to him, a traitor is more hated than an enemy... but before, I was too angry and made an irrational decision."
"It's not your fault." Narcissa let her husband sit down, placed her hand on his shoulder, and softly comforted, "They abandoned you first... Why not seek Dumbledore? You sought refuge with him; he ought to protect us."
"No... no way..." Lucius swallowed, "Have you forgotten how the Potters died? And the Prewett Family... Dumbledore couldn't protect them at all; telling him would only make us die quicker!"
Thinking of Snape, who, for some reason, enjoyed great trust beside Dumbledore, Lucius felt a chill creep over him, like he was lost in the vast sea, his sinking ship bubbling with leaks beneath him.
Back then, the best way to hide was indeed the Fidelius Charm.
But with the Potters first, and then Voldemort himself, both incidents proved that believing the Fidelius Charm could make you completely safe was a grave mistake!
Narcissa suddenly let go of his shoulder, walked to the cabinet, and began tossing the hidden Galleons and other items into the Dragon Skin Box.
"Then we leave!" she whispered through clenched lips, "France, Africa! Or somewhere even further... The Dark Lord has many important matters; he can't possibly come all the way overseas to hunt us down!"
A bolt of lightning flashed outside, casting tree shadows on the curtains, looking almost like a clawing monster outside.
The rain began pouring in torrents, causing Lucius to shiver involuntarily, looking from the window to his wife's resolute face, he suddenly reached out to grasp her slender wrist.
"Indeed, it's time to go... You and Draco must leave!" he said, his voice trembling, "I'll stay behind!"
"Are you crazy?!" Narcissa shuddered, a flash of anger crossing her pale face, "Do you think that's so brave? If we escape without you, it confirms that you're the traitor! That man will tear you apart!"
"Cissy!" Lucius whispered, "You know, I simply can't..."
He paused, reaching to grip his left arm, at this moment, only feeling the Dark Mark seemed to sear with heat.
"Even cutting off my arm, he'd still find a way to find me. But you... you're not Death Eaters, as long as you escape far enough, he won't discover you easily... He won't despise you like he does me..."
"Lucius Malfoy!" Narcissa shouted angrily, her chest heaving violently.
"Think of Draco, Cissy, think of Draco..." Lucius's voice held a hint of pleading, "You must do it for him... for our son... take him and live well..."
Thinking of Draco, Narcissa immediately calmed down, no longer opposing him, but a mist quickly filled her eyes.
"Pack your things." Lucius said softly, "After today, we'll go our separate ways, you must wait until it's completely safe to come back..."
He gently stroked Narcissa's golden hair, his tone full of reluctance, softly instructing:
"Get rid of the Communication Pea; I heard these things can be eavesdropped... the Friendship Book you can keep, but not the one with tracking... In the future, even if I suddenly contact you, don't trust too quickly..."
A tear rolled down Narcissa's pale cheek.
She was just about to speak when a voice suddenly rang out—
"Ding-dong—ding-dong—"
The doorbell rang from downstairs, startling Lucius, his lips turning blue.
Narcissa also shuddered, quickly regaining her composure, and whispered, "It can't be him; he'd just come straight in... It must be a Muggle neighbor, I'll go check."
"Wait..." Lucius grabbed her, standing up and reaching for the candelabra, "You stay here, I'll check."
He pulled open the study door, glancing back at his wife as he was about to leave:
"Keep your Magic Wand ready... If anything seems amiss, Apparate at once... go find Dumbledore!"
Narcissa nodded vigorously, her Magic Wand slipping into her palm, gripping it tightly.
Lucius made his way down the stairs, step by step with heavy thuds.
Narcissa, tense and on edge, silently approached the bed, in the darkness, appearing like a semi-transparent ghost emitting a faint glow.
"Creak—"
Downstairs, Lucius opened the front door.
"Ah, Mr. Schultz, I'm really sorry to bother you so late."
At the door stood their pudgy neighbor, wearing a warm smile, and loudly said:
"But this gentleman said he's a friend of yours, just happened to forget your house number, so I brought him over... um, you do know each other, right?"
He stepped aside, and from the cold rain, a pitch-black umbrella lifted slightly.
Underneath the umbrella, Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with a gentle yet sharp light in the rain-soaked night, the hem of his Robe wet from the rain, yet it did nothing to diminish his authority.
"Good evening, Mr. Schultz." Dumbledore's voice cut through the rain, calmly saying, "I think we should have a talk."