Chapter Text
The Hogwarts Express rattled steadily through the countryside, its wheels clicking rhythmically against the tracks. Warm afternoon sunlight poured through the compartment windows, casting golden patches across the seats and illuminating the mess they had accumulated over the journey. Empty Chocolate Frog boxes, crumpled sweet wrappers, and a half-finished bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans lay scattered between them.
For once, nobody was worried. There were no attacks to investigate, no mysterious voices echoing through walls, and no deadly monsters lurking beneath the castle. The Chamber of Secrets was closed, Ginny Weasley was safe, and exams had been cancelled; much to Hermione and Hyacinth's dismay. Summer waited just beyond the horizon.
Ron stretched across his seat with a dramatic groan. "Mum's already got a list of chores waiting for me. I know she does."
Hermione looked up from the book resting in her lap. "You've been on a train all day."
"Exactly. She's had all day to make the list longer."
Harry snorted. "You'll survive."
Ron pointed accusingly at him. "Easy for you to say. You don't have five older brothers finding new ways to make your life miserable."
"Only Dudley." Hyacinth spoke up.
"Fair point."
Hyacinth laughed softly as the boys continued arguing over whose summer would be worse. Across from her, Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't quite hide her smile. The conversation drifted naturally, as it always seemed to when they were together. Ron complained about chores. Hermione talked excitedly about books she intended to read over the holidays. Harry listened more than he spoke, occasionally throwing in a comment that sent Ron into another dramatic rant.
For a little while, everything felt normal, then Ron suddenly looked at Hyacinth. "So you're really doing it?"
Hyacinth blinked. "Doing what?"
"Spending the summer with Malfoy."
Hermione sighed. "We've already discussed this."
"And every time we discuss it, it sounds more insane."
Harry looked over from where he was leaning against the window. "Are you looking forward to it?"
The question caught her slightly off guard. She thought about Narcissa's kindness, and about Draco. She thought about the strange group of friends she had somehow collected throughout the year; and then she thought about Privet Drive.
"Yes," she admitted quietly.
Harry's expression softened almost immediately, because unlike Ron and Hermione, Harry understood exactly what that answer meant.
Ron looked horrified. "I can't believe you're willingly choosing to spend your summer with Draco Malfoy."
"He isn't that bad." Hyacinth said calmly, though an agitated tone crept into her words. Three pairs of eyes stared at her. Hyacinth sighed. "Fine. He's a little bad."
"A little?" Ron grimaced.
Hyacinth rolled her eyes, but grinned all the same. "A lot."
"Thank you."
"But he's nicer than you." Ron gasped as though she'd physically wounded him, Hermione burst out laughing, and Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
For the next half hour the conversation dissolved into increasingly ridiculous speculation about what happened inside Malfoy Manor. According to Ron, Lucius Malfoy spent every morning teaching Draco advanced sneering techniques. Hermione informed him that was ridiculous. Harry suggested there was probably a weekly class dedicated entirely to dramatic cape swishing. By the time Ron claimed there was likely an entire subject called Evil Laughing, all four of them were laughing hard enough that passing students began glancing through the compartment door.
The train sped onward while the countryside rolled past outside; and little by little, the afternoon slipped away. Eventually the first signs of London began appearing beyond the windows. Students began retrieving trunks from overhead racks, owl cages were gathered, and robes were folded away.
Harry sat by the window watching the city approach. Hyacinth knew that resigned expression he wore whenever his mind was somewhere far away. As though he had already accepted what waited for him at the end of the journey.
She nudged his shoulder. "You gonna be okay by yourself?”
Harry offered her a small smile, but his eyes were still clouded with thoughts. “I should ask you the same thing.”
“I won’t be by myself. I’ll be with Draco.”
Harry grimaced, and the Hyacinth saw he was back in the present. “Not very comforting.” The corner of Hyacinth's mouth twitched, but Harry couldn’t place her expression.
The train began slowing as the station came into view, and suddenly the journey was over. The platform exploded into noise the moment they stepped off the train. Students rushed in every direction. Parents waved from beyond the barriers. Owls hooted. Trunks rattled across the ground.
For a brief moment, surrounded by all the chaos, it almost felt like everyone belonged somewhere. Then Hyacinth spotted Uncle Vernon, and the feeling vanished instantly. He stood near the barrier with Petunia and Dudley, looking impatient despite having nowhere else to be. Petunia stood stiffly beside him while Dudley fidgeted nearby.
The second Vernon noticed Harry and Hyacinth approaching, his expression darkened. "There you are." Harry's shoulders immediately tightened, and Hyacinth felt her own do the same.
Before they reached the Dursleys, Hermione suddenly threw her arms around Hyacinth. "Write to me."
Hyacinth held her tightly, "I will."
Then Hermione hugged Harry too. Ron looked deeply uncomfortable for approximately three seconds before offering both of them awkward hugs as well. "Don't die."
Harry blinked. "That's your goodbye?"
"It's worked so far." Hermione groaned and Hyacinth laughed. Promises of letters were exchanged and Ron's handwriting was insulted. Hermione threatened to correct everyone's grammar through owl post.
For a moment, none of them moved.
Then Harry looked at Hyacinth. "Promise to write?"
Hyacinth grinned "Obviously." Then his smile faded slightly. "You okay?"
The question was quiet enough that only he heard it. Hyacinth glanced toward Vernon and toward Privet Drive, thinking of the summer waiting for them.
"I'll be fine." Harry mumbled unenthusiastically. Hyacinth nodded. "You?"
She shrugged. "I think I’ll have a better time than you." Banter couldn’t lift their moods. Neither of them have been apart like this. Hyacinth had always been there to protect Harry from Vernon, but she supposed he didn’t need protecting anymore. She ruffled his hair and pulled him into a tight hug. “You’ve faced Voldemort twice now, and killed a basilisk with your bare hands. Vernon is just a playground bully compared to that.”
They pulled away, hyacinths hands still resting on Harry’s shoulder. Harry grinned at her, but he still had his hesitations. “But I can’t slay Vernon like a basalisk.”
Hyacinth smiled softly, ruffling his hair once more and pulling his glasses down his nose. “I suppose you can’t, but maybe this will help.” Hyacinth rummaged through her satchel and pulled out five small vials of clear liquid. She slipped them into Harry’s pocket, and looked up at Vernon, wo was watching them very suspiciously. “Invisibility potions. The ministry won’t be monitoring these.”
“What about Snape?” Harry asked.
“What he doesn’t know won't kill him.” Hyacinth smiled. “I can replace them during the summer. With all of the work I’ll be doing, I won’t be able to send Snape my inventory until third year starts back up.” Once again, Hyacinth ruffled his hair, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. With a collective breath, they turned and approached the Dursleys.
"About time," Vernon grunted. Harry bit the inside of his cheek and kept his mouth shut. Experience had taught him that arguing would only make the next few hours worse. Beside him, Hyacinth adjusted her grip on her owl cage and stared determinedly at a crack in the floor rather than look directly at her uncle. Petunia's eyes swept over both of them, lingering on their robes with obvious distaste.
"You've both grown," she said stiffly. Neither Harry nor Hyacinth answered. Dudley stared openly at them from behind his parents, his small eyes moving from Harry's glasses to Hyacinth's owl as though he couldn't decide which offended him more.
Vernon grabbed the handle of Harry's trunk and immediately scowled. "What have you got in here? Bricks?"
"Books," Harry answered.
"Of course it's books." The disgust in Vernon's voice suggested Harry had personally packed the trunk with toxic waste. Before anyone could say anything else, a familiar voice drifted through the crowded station.
"Potter." Hyacinth's head snapped around instantly. The Malfoys were making their way through the crowd. Draco led the way, weaving between families and luggage carts with surprising determination. Behind him walked Narcissa and Lucius. The contrast between them and their surroundings was almost absurd. King's Cross bustled with noise, movement, and confusion. Muggles hurried past carrying luggage, shouting to one another, rushing toward trains and departures. Narcissa's posture remained graceful, but there was a visible stiffness to her movements as she navigated through the station. Her eyes lingered on the crowds with thinly veiled discomfort. Lucius looked as though he had been dragged into a dragon enclosure against his will. His expression alone suggested he found the entire station offensive.
Draco reached them first. "You survived."
Hyacinth raised an amused brow, as the corner of her mouth ticked up a fraction. "Apparently."
Draco sighed dramatically. "That's unfortunate."
"Likewise." A smirk briefly tugged at his mouth before he managed to suppress it. Behind him, Narcissa slowed as her gaze settled on Hyacinth.
Narcissa offered a small smile. "Hyacinth." Her voice was warm but tentative, as though she wasn't entirely sure what sort of greeting would be appropriate. "It's lovely to finally meet you."
The words caught Hyacinth off guard. "You too, ma'am." Narcissa's smile softened slightly.
Beside her, Draco groaned. "Please don't call her ma'am." Hyacinth smirked as the familiar bickering eased some of Hyacinth's nerves. Then Lucius arrived, stopping in front of them as he assessed each of them. His attention moved first to Draco, then Hyacinth, and then Harry. His gaze lingered there for a moment, and Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably.
Lucius inclined his head politely. "Mr. Potter."
“Mr, Malfoy." Harry greeted back, though much less polite. Harry had told Hyacinth about how Dobby had ended up being the Malfoys house elf. They both agreed not to tell the Malfoys about Dobby’s visit, or his effort to ‘save Harry’. Then Harry had told her about how he had set Dobby free, and Lucious tried to attack him. Hyacinth had not taken kindly to that piece of information and promised to get revenge on her brother's behalf, much to Harry’s distress.
Lucius gave a small nod before his attention shifted elsewhere, specifically toward Vernon Dursley. The change in his expression was immediate, a forced neutrality that just barely concealed the prejudiced disgust. Hyacinth noticed it, and so did Draco. He looked Vernon over from head to toe with the unmistakable air of a man who believed himself important. Disgust flickered across Lucius's features before disappearing almost instantly. Vernon noticed none of this.
"Who exactly are you?" he demanded. Hyacinth and Harry watched the encounter with anticipation, while Draco immediately wished he were somewhere else. Two very entitled men with steely personalities going head to head.
Lucius seemed to take several seconds deciding whether the question deserved an answer. "Lucius Malfoy." Vernon waited, but Lucius offered nothing more. The silence that stretched between them became very awkward. Lucius appeared increasingly irritated by every passing second.
Vernon frowned, as he two looked Lucious up and down. "Right." Another silence, and Draco had suddenly become very interested in the ceiling.
"I take it," Lucius said at last, "you are the children's guardians." The wording sounded carefully chosen.
Vernon puffed himself up immediately. "That's right."
Lucius's gaze flickered briefly toward Harry and Hyacinth, and then back to Vernon "I see." The response carried enough disapproval to fill an entire paragraph.
Even Vernon seemed to hear it. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" For the first time, Lucius's composure slipped, only slightly. His cold silver eyes drifted toward the bustling station around them, to the crowds of Muggles rushing in every direction, then back to Vernon.
"Nothing at all." The lie was obvious, and Narcissa shot her husband a warning glance.
Hyacinth and Harry looked seconds away from laughing themselves unconscious, while Draco looked like he was going to throw up.
Lucius ignored them all and instead, addressed Hyacinth directly. "We appreciate your willingness to spend part of the summer with us."
Before she could respond, Vernon folded his arms. "Spend part of the summer where exactly?"
Lucious looked at Vernon like a predator looking at prey. "Our home." The two words carried enough finality in them to make everyone understand that Lucious had listened to Vernon’s aggravating voice long enough. Draco made a suspicious choking noise, and Harry quickly looked away.
Narcissa stepped forward smoothly before anyone could make matters worse. "We'll ensure she returns to school on time with all of her necessary items," she said pleasantly. "And you're welcome to contact us if necessary."
Vernon looked deeply suspicious of the entire situation, and Lucious looked at him with a mutual expression. Standing between them, Hyacinth suddenly realized that this might be the first time she'd ever seen someone look at Vernon Dursley the way Vernon looked at everyone else.
Vernon muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "bloody wizards" before grabbing Dudley by the shoulder. "Come on."
Petunia gave Hyacinth one last look. "Don't come back with green hair."
Hyacinth blinked. "What?"
"Or scales."
"I don't think that's—"
"Good." Petunia turned sharply and followed Vernon into the crowd before Hyacinth could finish. Harry gave Hyacinth one last undiscernable look before turning to follow their uncle. For a moment she simply stood there watching them disappear. It was odd, not having to follow the Dursleys, but it also felt good. She was going to be free this summer, and the thought of all of the possibilities excited her.
When she turned around, three pairs of pale eyes were waiting for her. Draco was leaning against his trunk and Narcissa stood beside him with a patient smile. Lucius looked increasingly displeased by the existence of King's Cross. A businessman brushed past him carrying a newspaper and Lucius physically moved aside as though avoiding contamination. Hyacinth quickly looked away before she laughed.
"Ready?" Narcissa asked gently.
Hyacinth nodded. "I think so."
"Excellent." Lucius looked relieved. "Then let us leave." They exited the station through a side entrance and stepped onto a busy London street. The heat struck immediately and Hyacinth wondered how the Malfoys weren’t melting in their long Black robes. Cars crawled through traffic and people hurried along the pavements. The sounds of horns, conversations, and engines filled the air and Lucius looked utterly miserable. Draco appeared only slightly less miserable and Hyacinth kept glancing at him with an excited grin.
"How do they live like this?" Lucius muttered. Narcissa ignored him. A cyclist nearly clipped Lucius's shoulder, and the look Lucius gave the man could have frozen lava. They walked several blocks before turning onto a quieter street tucked between rows of old brick buildings. The crowds gradually thinned until they reached a narrow establishment squeezed between a bookstore and a tailor. From the outside it looked entirely unremarkable. A faded sign hung above the door and the windows were caked in layers of dust and grime. Hyacinth might have walked past it a hundred times without noticing.
Narcissa pushed open the door, and a small bell chimed overhead. The moment Hyacinth stepped inside, she knew it wasn't a Muggle business. The air smelled faintly of woodsmoke and magic buzzes in the atmosphere. A handful of witches and wizards sat scattered throughout the room nursing drinks and talking quietly amongst themselves. Most glanced up when the Malfoys entered; several immediately looked away again. Lucius seemed considerably happier now that the ratio of wizards to Muggles had improved.
A large fireplace dominated the far wall, and the sight of it made Hyacinth stop.
Draco noticed immediately, and his eyes narrowed.
"What?" Hyacinth asked, as she caught his stare.
"You made that face."
"I didn't make a face."
"You absolutely made a face."
Hyacinth stared at the fireplace like it was about to sprout arms and reach out at her. "I don't like floo travel." The Malfoys looked at her with a combination of concern and confusion.
“What’s wrong with floo travel?” Draco asked, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Hyacinth and the furnace. “It’s the most convenient method of travel.”
Hyacinth’s face paled. “I um- I’ve had some rather unpleasant experiences with fire.” Draco’s expression clouded over with thought, as he recalled the sotries she told him about Christmas, Snape’s trial, and fire breathing spiders. “and the two times I've had to use the floo system, I’ve gotten sick.”
"You get sick?" Lucius asked.
"Only every single time." For the first time all afternoon, Lucius appeared genuinely surprised. Hyacinth folded her arms. "It spins."
"That is rather the point."
"It spins too much." Lucius opened his mouth, paused, then slowly closed it again. Hyacinth shook her head, and set her face into a determined yet wary expression. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Like before, as soon as Hyacinth had stepped out of the fireplace, she felt her stomach twist with nausea. She looked around the room and spotted a large potted fern sitting against the wall. She had barely made it to her knees when her stomach pulled again, and she retched inside the pot. There was a whoosh behind her, and second later Hyacinth felt hands on her back and held her hair. Two more wooshes sounded, and she was sure Draco’s parents were staring at her with either concern or displeasure.
“Sorry,” Hyacinth rasped, as she staggered to her feet.
Draco grimaced sympathetically and drew his wand. “Don’t worry about it.” With a casual flick, the fern and its pot returned to their pristine condition, as though nothing had happened.
Narcissa smiled warmly, her expression not changing in the slightest. “Think nothing of it, dear. floo travel can be unpleasant even for experienced witches and the wizards.” Hyacinth wasn’t entirely convinced that was true, but she appreciated the attempt.
“Draco,” Narcissa continued smoothly, steering the moment back toward normalcy, “why don’t you and your father give Hyacinth a tour of the manor while I see that your things are taken upstairs?”
Lucius’s mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. “A task that would ordinarily belong to a house-elf,” he muttered darkly.
“Lucius.” The single word from Narcissa carried enough warning to silence him.
Lucius inclined his head with poor grace. “Very well.”
The entrance hall of Malfoy Manor was larger than Hyacinth had expected. Actually, that wasn't quite right. It was larger than most buildings she had ever been inside. White marble stretched beneath her feet, polished so brightly she could almost see her reflection in it. Twin staircases curved upward to a second floor lined with ornate railings. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, their enchanted candles bathing the room in warm golden light. For a moment, Hyacinth simply stared, taking everything in detail by detail.
"Impressive, isn't it?" he asked, sounding far too pleased with himself.
"A little."
"A little?" Draco repeated.
"You know, frivolity never impresses me." She rolled her eyes. His smirk widened. When they hear the gentle tapping of Lucious’ cane drawing closer, Hyacinth grinned mischievously. “Hey, play along.” Before Draco could ask ‘play along with what?’ Lucius Malfoy chose that moment to return from speaking with Narcissa.
"Shall we begin the tour?" The words were polite enough, but Hyacinth got the distinct impression this wasn't really a question. Lucius wanted an audience and Hyacinth couldn't entirely blame him, the manor was beautiful.
They followed him across the entrance hall where portraits covered nearly every inch of the walls. Wizards and witches dressed in centuries-old fashions watched them pass with varying levels of interest. Some nodded politely, while others appeared to be sleeping. Lucius stopped beneath one particularly grand painting where the wizard inside looked severe enough to curdle milk.
"Septimus Malfoy," Lucius explained. "Advisor to three Ministers for Magic and one of the architects behind several Ministry reforms still in use today." Hyacinth studied the portrait who was staring back at her with an unimpressed expression.
"Oh," she said with a spacey smile. Lucius waited. So did Septimus. Hyacinth glanced between them before landing on the name plaque beneath the frame. "Did he write anything?"
Lucious blinked, clearly not receiving the reaction he had anticipated. “What?”
Hyacinth didn’t seem to notice his disappointment as she continued to have a staring match with Septimus. “Books. Journals. Research papers." The portrait's eyebrows rose.
Lucius looked momentarily caught off guard. "I... believe he published several political essays."
Hyacinth brightened immediately. "Really? What were they about?" Lucius opened his mouth, then closed it. The truth was that he had absolutely no idea. A small crease formed on Draco's brow as he scrutinized Hyacinth.
Septimus snorted, "I knew the boy never read them." Lucius shot the painting a glare, but Septimus looked delighted in his great grandson's misery.
"Well?" Hyacinth asked.
The old wizard leaned forward within the frame as if he could climb out of it. "They were excellent essays."
"They were not," another portrait called from further down the hall. "They were pretentious rubbish."
"They won awards."
"So did Helga Hufflepuff for being the first to accept a mudblood into a wizard's school." Several portraits immediately erupted into argument, and Hyacinth's eyes widened. Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose, and Draco looked away before anyone could see him smiling. Narcissa, who had quietly appeared at the foot of the stairs, hid a smile behind her hand.
Hyacinth continued watching the portraits bicker. "This happens often?"
"Constantly," Draco answered, the final remnants of his amusement fading. Lucious continued down the corridor, leading everyone to the next spectacle.
Glass display cases lined the walls. Shelves held silver cups, plaques, medals, and awards accumulated over centuries. A suit of polished armor stood in one corner, while several ancient-looking artifacts rested beneath protective enchantments. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, glinting off enough silver and gold to make the room sparkle.
"This," Lucius said, sounding considerably more confident, "contains many of the accomplishments of the Malfoy family."
Hyacinth looked around. "Wow." Lucius's posture straightened, finally recieving the attention and wonder he sought. He gestured toward the nearest display.
"The Malfoys have contributed to wizarding society for generations. Ministry service, magical research, diplomatic relations—"
"Oh." Hyacinth stepped closer to a glass case. Lucius allowed himself a small smile.
"That medal belonged to—"
"Is that handwritten?"
Lucius paused. "What?"
She pointed at a yellowed piece of parchment resting beneath one of the awards. "The note." Lucius looked down at the small card accompanying the display.
"It appears so." Hyacinth crouched down to get her face closer to the note, looking as if she hoped the glass would disappear so she could pick the parchment up. The trophy beside it immediately lost all importance.
"That's incredible."
Lucious looked at her curiously, like she was an enigma he was trying to solve. "It is?"
"The ink, look how dark it still is." She leaned closer until the tip of her nose was millimeters from the glass. "Whoever made this knew what they were doing." Draco rubbed his face, finally peicing together her plan. She was playing stupid to mess with his father. This was a very bad idea, Draco thought, but he had no choice but to continue playing along.
Lucius cleared his throat and tried again. "The medal itself is rather significant. It was awarded for excellence in magical innovation.
"That's nice." She was still staring at the handwriting, not noticing how Luciou’s mouth ticked downward. After a moment, Hyacinth finally stood and continued exploring. Perhaps, thought Lucious, things would improve. The three Malfoys watched as she wandered the room, looking at everything with thoughtful assessment. She stopped beside a dusty shelf tucked into the corner. The shelf was easy to overlook. It sat partially hidden behind one of the display cases, crowded with old books and records that nobody had bothered organizing in years.
Hyacinth's eyes narrowed. "Oh." The single word made Draco roll his eyes. It was so very hard to watch one of the smartest people he knew, act like a star crossed idiot. He had to hand it to her though, her acting was superb. She stepped around the display case, like a blood hound trailing a scent.
"Hyacinth?" Draco asked. No response. "Hyacinth." Still nothing. She reached the shelf and carefully pulled free a thick green volume. The title gleamed faintly in worn gold lettering Experimental Alchemical Theory.
"Mr. Malfoy." Hyacinth asked, slowly looking up from the book's dusty cover.
Lucius was already regretting answering. "Yes?"
Her voice had become dangerously quiet. "How old is this?"
Lucius glanced at the cover and tried to recall why this particular volume had any importance that he would bring it into his house. "Oh. That. I'm not entirely certain. It belonged to my great grandfather Lysander Malfoy.”
“You don't know how old it is?" Lucius felt vaguely as though he was being scolded, but he fought the urge to reprimand her for her misplaced curiosity.
"It has never seemed particularly important." Hyacinth carefully opened the cover, and her eyes widened.
"Merlin’s beard!." she gasped, startling everyone in the room.
"What?" Draco asked. She looked up as though she'd just discovered buried treasure, and to her, it was.
"It's a first edition." She held the book against her chest. "You have a first edition of Experimental Alchemical Theory sitting on a random shelf behind a trophy case." Lucious and Draco stared at her blankly, until their eyes shot over to Narciss who had burst into a fit of laughter.
Hyacinth looked between them. "What?"
"Nothing, dear," Narcissa said, still smiling. "Please continue." Hyacinth immediately returned to examining the book while Lucious glared at his wife. Narcissa shot her own glare back at him, but only Draco was aware of the silent battle.
By the time they left the trophy room, Hyacinth was still carrying Experimental Alchemical Theory. Lucius had stopped questioning it, and instead, focused on continuing the tour. The drawing room was considerably warmer than the rest of the manor. A fire crackled in an enormous marble hearth. Rich green furniture was arranged around low tables, and tall windows overlooked the estate grounds beyond. Ancient tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes from wizarding history.
"This is where we entertain guests," Narcissa explained.
Hyacinth nodded politely. "It's lovely." Draco glanced at his father who had noticed that was the exact same word she'd used for the entrance hall. Lucious’ eye twitched, but he remained hospitable.
"That tapestry," he said, gesturing toward a sprawling work of embroidery, "is nearly four hundred years old." Hyacinth looked up. "It survived the Goblin Rebellions."
"That's impressive." Hyacinth said plainly, as she ran a gentle hand over the threadwork. “Who repaired the damage?
Lucius frowned. "The damage?" She pointed to a section near the lower corner where a portion of the embroidery had clearly been restored at some point. The repair work was excellent, so excellent that no one had ever noticed it before.
Narcissa examined the tapestry. "Well spotted."
Hyacinth brightened. "The stitching is different."
"So it is," Narcissa agreed. Lucius stared at the tapestry as though it had personally betrayed him.
Hyacinth’s attention drifted elsewhere, and Draco immediately caught the concentration etched in her brow. She’d found something.
“Merlin save us,” he muttered.
“What?” Narcissa asked, wondering what else this wonderful girl could reveal about their own home.
“She’s hunting.” Hyacinth wandered toward a side table where a large leather-bound dictionary sat forgotten beneath a decorative vase.
She gently moved the vase aside, and picked up the book. “Mr. Malfoy?”
Lucius closed his eyes briefly. “Yes, Miss Prince?”
“This runic dictionary is from the seventeenth century.”
Lucius walked over and examined the tomb in her hands. “It is?”
“You don’t know?” Draco had never seen anyone repeatedly scandalize his father by asking perfectly innocent questions. It was becoming one of his favorite activities.
“Why not?”
“Because it is a dictionary.” Lucius appeared completely out of answers. Narcissa turned away before her laughter became obvious.
Hyacinth carefully opened the book and read through several handwritten notes filled the margins. Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“What?” Narcissa asked, looking to Draco for translation. “The treasure look?”
“The treasure look.” Draco repeated flatly. Hyacinth wasn’t listening, as she turned a page, something else caught her attention. A staircase; Small and narrow, tucked discreetly beside the hearth. Unlike the grand staircases in the entrance hall, this one descended into darkness.
Hyacinth frowned. “Where does that go?” The room became noticeably quieter, but only for a second.
“A storage cellar,” Lucius answered smoothly, and Hyacinth nodded. That seemed reasonable; old houses had cellars. She returned to her dictionary. Draco, however, noticed the brief look exchanged between his parents. It lasted less than a heartbeat; there and gone. Had Hyacinth not immediately become distracted by handwritten runic notes, she might have noticed it too, but she was already gasping over an annotation in the margin.
“Someone corrected the translation.”
Lucius, for the first time that day, looked satisfied. “Excellent.”
Hyacinth blinked. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mr. Malfoy, this is fascinating.”
“I’m sure it is.” Lucius sounded far more grateful than the situation warranted. Draco eyed the cellar staircase, then his father, then Hyacinth. For once, Hyacinth's love for knowledge accidentally saved everyone from a much more complicated conversation.
By the time they left the drawing room, she was still talking about the dictionary. She and Draco walked side by side behind his father, and Draco would have to redirect her every few steps so she wouldn’t knock something over. As she was walking, she read through the dictionary, having passed Experimental Alchemical Theory off to Draco.
“The correction changes the entire meaning of the passage.” Hyacinth commented, as they walked.
“I see,” Lucius replied, with a very fake tone of interest.
“It turns a warning into a set of instructions.”
“Fascinating.”
“It really is.” Hyacinth beamed. Draco glanced at his father. Lucius sounded exactly like a man who hoped if he agreed enough times, the conversation would eventually end. It did not. “The original translator completely missed the contextual marker.”
“Tragic.” The hallway beyond the drawing room stretched nearly the length of the manor. Tall windows lined one side while portraits, statues, and decorative suits of armor occupied the other. It was, objectively speaking, impressive.
Lucius immediately seized the opportunity. “The armor is goblin-forged.”
Hyacinth paused and looked at the suit of armor. Intricate silver engravings covered every surface, and the metal gleamed despite its age. “Really?”
Finally, Interest. “Yes,” Lucius said, his tone lifting. “Several centuries old.”
Hyacinth stepped closer. “The craftsmanship is incredible.”
Lucius straightened. “It is one of the finest examples in Britain.”
Hyacinth nodded, before pointing downward. “That dent wasn’t repaired.”
Lucius blinked. “What?”
She crouched slightly, and Draco mirrored her movements, nearly dropping the book she had handed him. “Here.” She pointed and there was indeed a small dent near the lower leg. One neither Draco or Lucius had ever noticed. Narcissa had almost certainly noticed years ago and simply never mentioned.
“Huh,” Draco said.
“It must have happened during transport,” Lucius replied.
Hyacinth smiled. “Good. It means somebody actually used it.” The compliment somehow felt insulting.
They continued walking and Lucius gestured toward an enormous chandelier hanging overhead. “The crystals were imported from France.”
Hyacinth looked up at the brilliantly sparkling chandelier, “That’s nice.”
Lucius inhaled slowly, his eye twitching once more. “The diamonds alone are worth a small fortune.” Nothing, absolutely nothing. Narcissa was enjoying this far too much.
Outside the nearest window, several white peacocks wandered across the grounds.
Lucius pointed. “The peacocks were imported as well.”
Hyacinth finally seemed interested again, a mischievous grin pulling at her mouth. She shot a look towards Draco who dramatically rolled his eyes. He shook his head no, but Hyacinth could see the corner of his mouth twitch upward.
“Is there a reason you have them?” Hyacinth asked, finally looking at Lucious, who had watched the silent exchange with a hesitant curiosity.
“Because they’re beautiful?” Draco nearly walked directly into one of the suits of armor and Narcissa laughed openly. Even Lucius looked momentarily defeated.
They rounded a corner and the hallway widened. Portraits gave way to towering bookcases built directly into the walls. Most held decorative volumes like family records, old journals, or historical accounts. The sort of books that looked impressive without necessarily being read.
Hyacinth slowed to take it all in and Draco noticed immediately.
“No.” He hissed under his breath. She stopped walking. “Hyacinth.” Her eyes narrowed. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” Narcissa asked.
Draco pointed. “Look at her.” Hyacinth was staring at a shelf halfway down the corridor. The same expression had appeared in the trophy room, and in the drawing room. The treasure look.
Lucius followed her gaze and frowned. It was just a shelf. “Miss Prince?”
Hyacinth pointed. “There.” Everyone looked and nobody saw anything unusual.
“It’s a shelf,” Draco said.
“No.” Hyacinth said, frowning at his ignorance.
“It is literally a shelf.”
“No.” She moved closer and the others followed. Hyacinth reached between two perfectly ordinary books. Her fingers disappeared into the gap and a moment later she pulled free a third volume hidden behind them. Dust drifted into the air as she pulled out the ancient text.
Lucius stared. He had absolutely no idea that book was there. Hyacinth’s eyes shot open and Lucius closed his eyes. “What is it?”
Hyacinth looked up. “Someone hid a first-edition Herbal Index behind a genealogy record.”
“Why?” Draco asked.
“To protect it.” Hyacinth said, as if the answer was obvious.
“From what?”
Hyacinth looked horrified. “People.” For the first time all afternoon, Lucius found himself laughing. It was a short, surprised laugh that startled everyone, including him.
Hyacinth blinked as she looked up at him, but Lucius shook his head. “Come along, Miss Prince.”
Hyacinth reluctantly closed the book. “Can I borrow this?”
Lucius sighed, but overall, he didn’t see the harm in it. “Yes.” Hyacinth beamed, and Draco stared at his father with wide eyes. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Lucius found himself wondering what other treasures she would discover before the day was over.