Led by Kreacher, Draco made his way deeper into the castle.
For someone that important, though, this level of treatment was only to be expected.
The security and secrecy along the way had clearly been pushed to the limit.
It was not quite to the point of guards at every turn or a place so tightly sealed that not even a mosquito could get in, but it was certainly not somewhere just anyone could enter. Even Draco had to go through several rounds of inspection before he was finally allowed inside...
Magical detection.
Potion testing.
All of it was meant to prevent anyone from disguising themselves, using something like Polyjuice Potion, or relying on spells to infiltrate the place and look for a chance to sabotage it.
Judging from how practiced everyone was, this was obviously part of their daily routine, not some temporary measure put in place at the last minute.
The security was so tight that Draco could not help thinking that if Kreacher had not been with him, and if he had not carried the Malfoy name, those wizards might very well have confiscated his wand on the spot...
In any case, Kreacher finally came to a stop in front of a door.
That meant the room behind it was their destination, and the place where he would be meeting his father next.
One thing worth noting was that before Draco could even reach for the handle, Kreacher deliberately raised a hand and lightly tapped the door.
A strange fluctuation of magic faintly stirred in the air.
There was clearly some sort of Jinx on the door, one Draco did not fully understand, and apparently it was magic that could only be undone by a house elf...
Still turning that over in his mind, Draco gently pushed the door open.
Creak.
Soft carpets.
A burning fireplace.
Tall bookcases on either side, along with luxurious decorations that only someone of a certain standing would fully appreciate.
Restraint and splendor.
Two things that should have clashed, yet somehow blended together in perfect harmony.
The moment he stepped inside, Draco caught a sense of familiarity in the room's design and furnishings, something he would only ever find at Malfoy Manor.
Of course, that was probably also because of the portraits hanging along both walls.
Each portrait had its own distinct style, but every one of them depicted a former head of the Malfoy family, or someone who had once played a vital role within the family...
...
The foundation of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Houses did not come solely from elite education and careful upbringing, which gave later generations the ability to carry on the family's glory.
It also came from these portraits.
As time passed, these exceptional wizards, figures who had once flourished in different eras of magical history, had not truly vanished. Instead, they had become a powerful support for their great families.
They could not step out of the paintings and interfere with the real world directly, but their experience and the knowledge stored in their minds were the true wealth of these families...
Draco paused for a moment, then muttered inwardly, "Are they all here? Something feels off."
Come to think of it, it was rare for Draco to see them at all. This was the first time he had ever seen all of these painted "elders" sitting obediently inside their frames.
Most of the time, the frames were empty.
Perhaps people who had once ruled the world in their own eras did not much enjoy being trapped inside a tiny painting.
As Draco stepped into the room, still wondering why his father and the others were nowhere to be seen, the portraits, which had just been resting with their eyes closed, all turned toward him at once as though they had planned it in advance.
Even Draco, who had already experienced quite a lot, felt faintly uncomfortable under those nearly tangible gazes...
"Is that him?"
"Mhm. Gray eyes and pale blond hair. A genuine Malfoy, no question."
"So that is the young Malfoy we were just talking about."
"Not bad, not bad. If those reports are true, then the family line really does have a worthy successor."
"Hmph, you idiot. At that age, could you have driven back that many Dark Wizards on your own? This concerns whether the Malfoys can stand at the top of the world..."
"Ahem."
That single light cough instantly silenced the lively discussion.
Apparently, even among so many former heads of the family, there was still someone who could keep them all in check.
It was hard to imagine what kind of standing a wizard would need to make these proud Malfoys lower their heads. Draco narrowed his eyes and looked over...
Thinking about it, Draco did not recognize most of the portraits gathered here.
Never mind the one placed in the center, the largest and most magnificent of them all.
Judging from the background of the portrait, the era it came from seemed extremely distant. Many of the things in it had long since vanished or fallen out of use.
More importantly, it was nothing like the long bearded old man Draco had imagined.
The person before him was a middle aged wizard, and the bright, easy smile on his face made it even harder to connect him with the image of an important figure in the Malfoy family.
If Draco had not known better, he might have mistaken him for one of those warmhearted Gryffindor wizards...
Of course, if anyone really wanted proof that he was a Malfoy, they only had to look at the snake headed cane in his hand, the symbol of the head of the Malfoy family.
"There is no need to be nervous. They just have not spoken to a young person in a very long time, so they got a little excited."
From the gentle look in his eyes and the smile on his face, it was obvious that he was very fond of Draco, this younger descendant.
In fact, ever since Draco stepped into the room, all he had heard was praise and approval.
As for why...
Draco raised a brow, already having guessed part of it. Was it because of that article? Perhaps the news had been deliberately spread, and the idea had come from one of the people in this very room.
Just as Draco was quietly speculating, the tightly shut door behind him was suddenly pushed open.
"Darling! Let me have a good look at you!"
Before he could even see who had come in, Draco was pulled into a fierce embrace.
If not for that familiar voice, that familiar tone, and the special nature of this room, Draco might really have thought an assassin had attacked him.
A worried hug.
A tone tinged with annoyance.
The only witch who could appear here and still make Draco smile helplessly was, of course, the beautiful and dignified Narcissa Malfoy.
And right behind her came Lucius Malfoy, his expression severe...