Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The New Lord Malfoy
With Lucius in Azkaban, Draco claims his inheritance.
“Convocoriri Heirus Malfoy”
At the incantation, the silver coat-of-arms shimmered with magic, and then words appeared firmly in Draco’s mind.
Advoco testatio
[Summon the witnesses]
Draco beckoned to the two figures hovering outside the doorway to his father’s office. They stepped forward and spoke their phrases.
“Prolixe arbiter Severus Snape” Severus intoned carefully.
[I am willing to be the male witness]
“Prolixe arbitra Narcissa Malfoy nee Black” Narcissa echoed.
[I am willing to be the female witness]
Inroduco heirus Malfoy
Draco stepped forward. “Praenomen Draco”
[My first name is Draco]
Recognosco heirus Draco qua Malfoy.
Suscipio Draco qua heirus Malfoy.
[We recognize the heir Draco as a Malfoy. Affirm Draco as the Malfoy heir.]
“Postulatio Titulus Malfoy”
[I claim the Malfoy title]
Recognosco Paterfamilias Malfoy qua Draco Malfoy
[We recognize the Head of the House of Malfoy as Draco Malfoy]
“Testor Paterfamilias Draco Malfoy” Severus said.
[I bear witness to the master of the house, Draco Malfoy]
“Testor Paterfamilias Draco Malfoy. Cedo Paterfamilias.” Narcissa added.
[I submit to Draco Malfoy as the Head of my Household]
“Crecio”
[I accept my inheritance]
Draco felt the magical energy building up and hoped his mother and Severus were moving quickly out of the room. Only the Lord Malfoy was allowed within the study except during certain rituals.
The door to the study slammed shut, and there was an immediate flash of blinding light as a wave of force slammed Draco to his knees.
The Malfoy house magics were suddenly a part of him. Draco reached out and felt that his mother and Severus had indeed made it out to the hall and were fine, waiting anxiously at the door.
The new link wrenched his attention from the insignificant figures outside the door. There were other things to show him.
A summation of the family assets. Twenty-four Gringott’s vaults. Shares in innumerable businesses in England and around the world. A very nice flat in London proper, and another in Knockturn Alley, vacation homes in France, Italy, Spain, Greece, and several others scattered across the preferred vacation spots of the world for the past twelve centuries. Safehouses in every reasonably-sized human population area in Europe. Four choices of bolthole, where the Malfoy family could live secretly and in style for a few generations, if necessary, to wait out troubles.
Malfoy Manor. Complete with all its many wings, dungeons, and a sublevel.
Wait. Sublevel?
There. The only entrance being, predictably, from this office.
“Hmm. What’s this for?” Draco mused aloud.
Secrets. The Manor told him.
Draco jerked backwards in surprise.
“You speak.”
Yes. Only to you, Paterfamilias.
“Oh. Fine.” Draco thought for a minute, wondering if the house could read his mind. “What sort of secrets are in the sublevels?”
It is a spell. A very special one. The Malfoys have used it to remain in power for centuries.
Some kind of particularly nasty curse, no doubt. His father’s lessons in exercising power through careful applications of fear gave that away easily. Maybe even…Harry Potter’s smug face appeared in Draco’s recollection for a moment. He waved it away.
“What kind of curse is it?”
Not a curse. It is a mind spell to use on your enemies, on your allies, on anyone who might be of use. Lucius left instructions to train you.
Of course. Draco could almost hear the lesson in his father’s voice now. “Never rule out a possibility. A Malfoy is never caught unawares. A Malfoy has a plan in place for every possible outcome, no matter how improbable. Those who are caught unprepared reap their rightful reward, and good riddance.”
“Show me.” Draco ordered. The far wall disappeared, revealing a staircase.
Several flights of steps later, the endless winding stair emerged into a dimly lit hallway of several anonymous-looking doors. Draco paused.
“What are all these doors?”
Each door leads to the archive of a particular Lord Malfoy. The archives of the current Lord are inside the door at the end of the hall. It will be empty now. You may wish to browse your father’s archive first. It was moved upon his death.
“Imprisonment.” Draco snapped.
The Manor paused.
Imprisonment. It conceded. Draco knew it was only agreeing to the term out of obedience. The family magics were connected to the Records division of the Ministry. If Lucius Malfoy was imprisoned for life, he couldn’t handle the affairs of the family. Which meant he wasn’t the Lord Malfoy anymore. And therefore couldn’t re-enter his office. As far as the hereditary magics were concerned, the Lord Lucius Malfoy was dead.
Draco ground his teeth. He knew very well the Lord Lucius Malfoy and his father were two very different people. Nobody else, except perhaps his mother, was likely to agree with him on that, though.
Damn Potter.
“Where is it?”
Last door on the left.
Draco entered a…well…a library. Of sorts. In place of bookshelves, the walls were lined with a latticework of pigeon holes, stacked closely together from floor to ceiling. Draco could see that each hole contained a scroll, and bore a label inscribed on small plates of either brightly polished silver, a tarnished bronze, or a very utilitarian-looking steel.
In the center of the room was a single table, upon which three scrolls appeared to have been placed with great care.
“Care to explain?”
Each scroll refers to an individual person your father has had dealings with. Either as an ally, an enemy, or simply as a tool. The tags indicate which. And these three are those of most note, of course.
“Who?”
Draco reached forward and turned over the scrolls, finding the names inscribed.
~Tom Riddle~
~Albus Dumbledore~
~Draco Malfoy~
Your father’s greatest ally, the leader of his enemies, and his own heir.
“What are these?”
These scrolls are the result of the spell. Escribamens. It creates a map of the mind and soul and magic of the target.
Draco thought for a moment.
“My father has never mentioned Tom Riddle.”
This is the true name of the one your father refers to as the Dark Lord.
Draco jerked his hands back from the scroll. Not something he was ready to deal with. Fine then. Albus Dumbledore.
Draco grabbed the wizard’s scroll and spread it out on the table. Several clips helpfully extended themselves from the tabletop and held the edges in place. Draco just stared.
In the center was Albus Dumbledore, looking quite a bit younger, far younger than his father could have possibly known him. The man was…dancing. He was horrible at it too, but seemed unaware of this. Eyes twinkled merrily as he started kicking his knee up, then kicking the leg out in the opposite direction. Left knee up. Left leg out and to the right. Right knee up, then the entire leg. Draco stared, open-mouthed.
The picture in the center shows the target as he considers himself. The Manor explained.
Clearly Albus Dumbledore was a child at heart.
“What are those?” Draco pointed to the symbols running along the top of the page.
Each refers to an aspect of the person that you may wish to view. The shield shows their magical protections and special abilities.
Draco hesitated, then touched the symbol. The dancing portrait shrunk considerably, leaving room for a dizzying array of glowing lines encircling the portrait.
Don’t look at them as a whole. Focus on a single thing and you will know it’s meaning.
Draco focused on one of the glowing circles around Dumbledore. A talisman, a small pin worn over the heart. It had the effect of deflecting any heart-stopping curse. Draco looked at another one. A glamour, over his eyes apparently, to make them twinkle good-naturedly at all times.
Draco looked at the entire scroll again. Now he thought he could tell the difference between magical artifacts and glamour at a glance. And…what was that…an active spell to keep rain off. And that appeared slightly different than a listening spell there, or a customized Protego worn against the skin there. The old man had a lot of protections and spells around him. Draco ignored them.
“And these out to the sides must be special abilities?” Draco mused, concentrating on a drawing of an eye off to the left. Ah. Dumbledore could see invisible things. How typical. And…there…he’s a Legilmens. And an Occlumens.
“You said the spell was Escribamens. How is that related to Legilmens and Occlumens?”
It is based on Legilmens, but far more advanced. Your ancestor, the Lord Daedelus Malfoy, developed it to counter the prevalent use of Occlumency among his fellows. Unlike Legilmens, Escribamens works over time, and far more subtly than the most artful of Legilmancy. It therefore is less effected by Occlumency shields.
“But it still works?”
Yes. It takes longer. The scroll will not update itself. And the spell must be accomplished beneath the same roof, or if outside, within shouting distance of an Occulmens target.
“What are these other symbols?”
Bloodlines, alliances and feuds, special strengths, special weaknesses, magical and physical status, obligations and attachments, fears and desires.
Draco looked at the symbols. What did he want to know about Albus Dumbledore? His magical protections were depressingly enormous, his special strengths were likely to be the same. His fears and desires…he boldly pressed his finger to the small picture of an upturned palm.
The lines disappeared and were replaced by a single sphere around the dancing Albus, with several small symbols inside it. Then there was a box around that sphere, with many symbols and portraits inside the box but outside the sphere. And finally many symbols and portraits outside the box.
Draco scanned over the many symbols and faces until he found one…concentrated on it.
In his mind’s eye he saw Albus Dumbledore sitting…on the floor? Yes, in his office, with his knees up to his chest. “I think it’s unwise for you to linger over these dreams, Harry.” The man put his wand to his temple and pulled out a silvery strand of memory, depositing it in a pensieve. “I think it’s best that you simply cast them away.” Draco saw Harry then, as Dumbledore saw him. Poor boy, he’s had no childhood at all. Will this be the year that he dies? No, better not to think that way. If Harry dies, we are truly doomed.
Draco shook his head. Weird, having another’s thoughts in his head, especially when they related to his worst enemy in such a fond fashion.
“Did I just catch some of Dumbledore’s thoughts with those images?”
Probably. The spell captures actual thoughts if they are linked to a sufficiently strong emotion inside a memory.
“What are these divisions?”
Fears from within oneself, fears relating to those one is connected to, and fears relating enemies or outside circumstances.
Draco looked at all the items on the scroll. It was truly, a complete collection. Amazing.
“How many scrolls are in here?”
Four thousand, two hundred and sixty two.
“Merlin! That’s…my father compiled detailed reports on just about everyone who’s anyone, didn’t he?”
Close to. There are some important gaps.
Draco thought a moment. The contents of this room were beyond price. The things he could do with…
“Where’s Potter.” He demanded.
Right here.
A ring of light glowed around a particular cubby hole. Draco moved to it quickly and started pulling the scroll out, then stopped, frowning.
“Wait. This is James Potter. I’m looking for his son. Harry James Potter.”
There is no scroll for him.
“What? Surely the Dark Lord would have wanted information on the Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Die. My father-“
The Lord Lucius Malfoy attempted the Escribamens spell with the Potter heir as his target, but the spell failed.
Draco groaned. Of course the dumb git would be immune, the damn Killing Curse bounced off him!
His attempts to find him, and then more recently to find opportunity to perform the spell within Hogwarts, were unsuccessful.
“What?”
The spell failed, presumably, because Harry James Potter is an Occlumens.
Oh. Well…
“But it would work if I did it anywhere in Hogwarts?”
If he is also inside the castle, yes.
“Good. You’ll teach me this spell now.” Draco commanded.
As you wish.