As his thoughts settled, Marcus let out a quiet sigh, his gaze lowering slightly as the weight of it all pressed in again. There were too many variables, too many things that couldn't simply be ignored or approached carelessly.
He couldn't interfere recklessly.
Not when he understood what playing with time could lead to, not when even small changes had the potential to spiral into outcomes far worse than the one, he already knew. The future wasn't something he could treat lightly, and that alone forced restraint onto every decision he considered.
"And I'm Draco Malfoy…"
The thought had barely formed before a sharp headache pulsed through his head, brief but enough to make him pause, his brows tightening slightly as fragments of instinct and memory surfaced again.
There were immediate concerns. Crabbe and Goyle and his house. Both were problems in their own way.
Crabbe and Goyle weren't just background figures, they were tied to Draco's position, expected to follow, expected to exist as part of that image. Changing that dynamic too much, too early, could raise questions he didn't want.
But the bigger issue was the Sorting. Marcus's gaze sharpened slightly as the thought settled.
What exactly did the Sorting Hat judge?
If Draco Malfoy had been placed in Slytherin because of who he was, then what about him?
Would he be sorted the same way?
Or would the difference between them be enough to change that outcome?
A quiet pause followed, his expression tightening just slightly if he wasn't placed in Slytherin… That wouldn't just be inconvenient.
It would be a problem and no small one at that.
Just as the thought settled, a sharp crack rang through the room, loud and sudden, like a gunshot breaking the silence.
Marcus flinched instinctively, his hand jerking slightly as the ink in his pen nearly spilled across the page, a curse rising to his lips before stopping halfway.
A house-elf stood a few steps away. Small, thin, with large, orb-like eyes that seemed almost too bright against its frail frame.
Marcus's gaze fixed on it for a second Dobby.
The name surfaced instantly, followed by a flicker of realization that made his expression tighten ever so slightly.
He had completely forgotten.
The elf bowed deeply, its thin limbs trembling slightly as it spoke, its voice high and strained. "Dobby greets young Master Malfoy."
Marcus froze for the briefest moment. Then, almost immediately, he adjusted.
"Master Lucius requests your presence, young Master," Dobby continued, its wide eyes lifting just slightly as it spoke.
Marcus stood up without delay, though his expression shifted just enough as he forced himself into the role he was supposed to play.
"Y-yes… you elf," he said, his tone rougher than before, a little forced, as if trying to match something he hadn't fully settled into yet. "Don't appear like that without warning."
The words felt slightly unnatural, but he didn't show it.
Dobby flinched at the tone, lowering its head further as Marcus moved past him, already following the direction he knew the elf would lead.
They moved through the manor in silence, passing through long corridors lined with polished floors and dim, controlled lighting, the quiet pressing in from all sides as their footsteps echoed faintly.
After a few turns, they stopped before a door and Marcus pushed it open.
Inside was a smaller meeting room, refined but not overly grand, its atmosphere calm, yet carrying the same controlled presence as the rest of the manor.
Lucius Malfoy sat at the far end, posture straight, his expression composed, a quiet arrogance resting naturally in his presence as his gaze lifted toward Marcus.
"Oh, Draco," Lucius said, his tone smooth, measured, as if nothing in the world could truly disrupt his composure. "It seems you've been studying these days."
His eyes lingered for a moment, observant, before continuing without pause. "Well. I called you here for a few things."
Lucius gestured lightly toward the chair in front of him, his gaze steady. "Sit."
Marcus didn't hesitate, lowering himself into the seat with controlled movement, his posture straight as his attention remained fixed on Lucius.
Lucius observed him for a brief moment before speaking again, his tone calm, deliberate.
"We will be visiting Diagon Alley next month," he said, as if stating something already decided. "There are things that need to be prepared before your first year."
Marcus gave a small nod, his expression composed, though his thoughts sharpened slightly at the timing. So, it aligned precisely as it should.
Lucius continued without pause, his fingers resting lightly against the armrest. "And… I have something for you."
That was new. Marcus's gaze shifted slightly, a trace of curiosity surfacing beneath his calm exterior as Lucius rose from his seat.
Without another word, Lucius moved toward a cabinet set against the wall, its surface polished and unremarkable at first glance.
He opened it at first, there was nothing unusual Shelves, objects placed with precision.
But then his hand moved, pressing lightly against one side before sliding a section inward, revealing a hidden mechanism beneath.
A soft click echoed and the structure shifted. From within, a goblet emerged, rising slowly as if guided by something unseen, its surface dark and unfamiliar.
Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly. Lucius extended his hand without hesitation, drawing a small blade across his finger.
A thin line of blood formed and without reacting to the pain, he let a single drop fall into the goblet. The moment it touched something changed and the air grew heavier.
The space within the goblet distorted, stretching unnaturally before unfolding into something far larger than it should have been.
A chamber deep and dark. Impossibly vast for something contained within such a small object.
Marcus didn't move.
Lucius's expression remained composed, but there was a brief shift in his gaze, subtle, almost imperceptible Unease.
It passed quickly. "So," Lucius said, his tone even, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Take a look."
His eyes flicked toward Marcus, sharper now. "It could be a treasure." a pause "Or death."
Marcus stood slowly, his attention fixed on the opening, the faint distortion in the air drawing him closer. "Do not be greedy."
Marcus looked at the opening with quiet interest, his gaze steady as he studied the unnatural depth within the goblet. As far as he knew, Draco Malfoy was not someone who would hesitate in front of opportunity, yet there was nothing in his inherited memories that suggested something like this had ever happened.
No hidden chamber, no trial, no trace of anything similar.
That absence mattered.
If this had existed in the past, there would have been some instinct, some lingering fragment warning him of it. But there was nothing at all, and that alone eased the tension slightly.
Even if Draco had been greedy, he had never been reckless, and Marcus was far more careful than that.