Malfoys Manor embodied every stereotypical image of a wealthy, aristocrat, gothic villain’s lair. If Scarlet wasn’t completely certain that the man leading her was a human wizard, she might have assumed this was a vampire’s castle – it simply looked the part.
They soon arrived at the study, a grand room with dark, polished wooden floors and a high ceiling. Tall, narrow windows let in minimal light, casting a dim, almost somber atmosphere. The walls were lined with rich tapestries and dark wood paneling, and an ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling, its flickering light barely illuminating the space.
Massive bookshelves lined the walls, holding rows of thick, ancient-looking books. Scattered between the books were family heirlooms and dark magical artefacts, carefully arranged in prominent spots. The furniture was elegant yet austere, positioned formally, especially around the desk.
Mr. Malfoy bypassed the desk, gesturing for Scarlet and Meiko to sit on the couches arranged around a coffee table. With a snap of his fingers, tea was promptly served by a house-elf, who disappeared as swiftly as he’d arrived.
Before Mr. Malfoy could speak, Meiko quickly knelt beside Scarlet, meticulously preparing the tea: one cup for Scarlet and one for Mr. Malfoy. The display had a distinctly feudal air, and Mr. Malfoy appeared both amused and pleased, as if finally meeting someone whose manners matched his own refined tastes.
Though Scarlet found such displays distasteful - a throwback to an age of landlords, knights, and serfs using swords and daggers, rather than modern times with computers and aeroplanes – she understood that it helped her establish an advantage in the negotiation. She was determined to secure the deal.
“I’m pleased to inform you that the dark wizard you once followed shall never return,” Scarlet began directly. She noticed the man’s eyes widen slightly – a minor reaction, controlled almost to the level of Professor Snape, though not quite as masterful as Professor Dumbledore’s poker face.
Mr. Malfoy chuckled softly. “Young miss, do you understand what you’re saying?”
“Of course.” Scarlet replied, grinning. “And I know more than you might expect – for instance, I know how to remove the Dark Mark from your forearm.”
The pale-haired man’s gaze narrowed, his smile frozen in place. But Scarlet sensed she had steered the conversation in her favour.
“You might have heard rumours of my former association with the Death Eaters,” Mr. Malfoy said coolly. “But I believe I proved my innocence years ago. I was under the Imperius Curse. Perhaps you should update your sources.”
“Mr. Malfoy, I prefer to handle things quickly,” Scarlet replied, taking a measured sip of her tea.
Mr. Malfoy’s lips curled into a cold smile. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow, Ms. Hong.”
Scarlet offered him a polite smile. “I’m not here to tarnish your reputation or prove you guilty of anything. In fact, I’m indifferent to most matters within Britain’s wizarding world. My family is back in Japan, and I have a much brighter future there. I have no reason to involve myself in the murky depths of British wizarding politics. My task is simple: clean up the mess left by the dark wizard, starting by destroying all his remaining soul fragments.”
The only hint of discomfort from Mr. Malfoy was a slight tightening of his grip on the armchair. His gaze sharpened. “Soul fragments? My dear, I think you’ve been reading too many fantastical stories. Perhaps we should discuss something more...concrete?”
So, he truly doesn’t know about the Horcrux hidden in the diary. Scarlet mused, recalling what she’d gleaned from Alexis’s scattered accounts. Then he must have assumed the diary was merely enchanted with dark magic, nothing more.
“As concrete as my words, Mr. Malfoy. The ‘soul fragments’ I mentioned come from a very rare, highly restricted form of dark magic - so rare, only a few even know of its existence.” Scarlet held her polite smile. “It’s a method to cheat death by splitting one’s soul into pieces and hiding them, allowing the practitioner to resurrect from these fragments. It’s an excruciating process, tearing the soul apart. The more fragments you create, the more sanity you lose, until you’re nothing but a violent, brutal, hot-tempered shadow of yourself. The dark wizard split his soul into five, so by the time he was defeated, he was hardly the wise, charismatic leader you once found worth following. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Mr. Malfoy breathed in controlled, steady breaths and refrained from touching his teacup, as if unwilling to reveal any cracks in his poised exterior. Scarlet knew he was struggling to keep the thin, pristine veneer of his past intact.
Scarlet didn’t press further; sometimes, silence could be more effective. Sure enough, she sensed his unease.
He leaned back, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “I find your...imagination quite extraordinary, Ms. Hong. However, if you’re here to threaten or blackmail the Malfoys for the benefit of your Muggle family, I must warn you – that would be most unwise.” His voice held a faint but unmistakable edge of menace.
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Scarlet shook her head. “I stand by my words – neither I nor my family have any interest in Britain’s wizarding world. Beyond informing you the good news that I’ve already destroyed four out of the five soul fragments, I am here to propose a trade.”
“And what might that be?” He fixed her with an intense glare.
“I know he entrusted you with a book - a diary, specifically. It looks like an ordinary student’s notebook.” Scarlet noticed his brow twitch and his shoulders tense slightly, as though struck by a faint electric shock. “I’d like to take the diary from you. In exchange, I’ll remove the Dark Mark from your forearm, ensuring you’re forever free from the dark wizard’s shadow.”
The pale-haired man sneered. “The Dark Lord’s mastery of dark magic is beyond reproach – he wields it as nature as breathing. And you dare claim you could free me from his shadow?”
“Correction. I wouldn’t just be freeing you; I’d be freeing the entire Malfoy family. Surely you don’t want to find Mrs. Malfoy and Draco in grave danger because of the bad investment you made years ago, do you?” Scarlet’s polite smile flattened ever so slightly. “If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say you planned to slip the diary into Weasley’s belongings during their school shopping trip in Diagonal Alley. Don’t bother denying it.” Her gaze turned stern. “A few weeks ago, you made a proposal to amend the Hogwarts curriculum on certain topics to bolster the purebloods’s status, which Professor Dumbledore promptly rejected. You have every reason to cause chaos within Hogwarts - to undermine his reputation and gain influence as one of the school governors.”
“You have no idea of the trouble you’re inviting with that single act,” she continued quietly. “The diary will release the creature hidden beneath the school, signalling the Death Eaters to regroup. The dark wizard’s soul fragments will stir, bringing about a second war. And your dear, beloved son – will be tasked with assassinating Professor Dumbledore as his family held hostage to force his wand. Why, you ask? Because, by then, the dark wizard’s mind will have shattered so completely shattered that he will know no loyalty, only suspicion and wrath. He will doubt your faithfulness, leaving your son caught between being captured by Professor Dumbledore and corrupting the unicorn hair on his wand with the Killing Curse...”
Lucius Malfoy’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly when she mentioned his son. Rising from his seat, he loomed over Scarlet, his height and frame casting an imposing shadow. “Your claims are as baseless as they are offensive. I advise you to choose your next words very carefully, as I will not tolerate--”
A sharp fan flicked open, and its edge pressed lightly against his neck, precisely over his pulsing artery.
“It’s sharp enough to sever a head in the blink of an eye. Do be careful, Mr. Malfoy.” Meiko’s voice was calmly, her expression as obedient as it had been from the moment she’d stepped into this house filled with cursed artefacts.
Scarlet chuckled. “I admire the wisdom of the old Malfoys. Unfortunately, Mr. Malfoy, you’ve yet to reach the glory of your ancestors. Your investment was doomed the moment you saw nothing wrong with the once clever, charming face of the dark wizard. Now, which side would be your second investment?”
She held his gaze as Meiko’s fan kept him firmly in place, forcing him back into his seat. “The dark wizard you once followed, who claimed to value pureblood supremacy, was, in fact, a half-blood. His father was a Muggle.”
“It can’t be!” Lucius Malfoy stammered, his voice barely above whisper. “That...that is an outrageous claim...”
“The diary I’m asking for once belonged to him. It holds memories of his time at Hogwarts. His birth name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. Rearrange the letters, and you’ll see how he crafted that famous name from them.” Scarlet took another sip of her tea, her expression calm. “Give it a try, Mr. Malfoy. Write something in the diary - ask it his name, and it will answer with the name his mother gave him, one he despised.”
Meiko calmly slid her fan back into her sleeve, standing beside Scarlet as if she hadn’t just threatened a man with a deadly precision. Mr. Malfoy, still feeling his racing heartbeat and a cold sweat forming on his brow, watched the two with a mix of apprehension and resentment.
“Once more, Mr. Malfoy, I’m here for the diary and nothing more. Our conversation will remain private; I won’t utter a word beyond these walls.” Scarlet’s tone was light, almost conversational. “Now, we can do this the easy way: you give me the diary, and I remove the Dark Mark for you - a mutual beneficial trade. Or, we can do this the hard way. I may not use the Imperius Curse, but I assure you, I can achieve a similar outcome if necessary.”
After steadying his breath, the man finally replied, “And how am I to believe you? You’re merely a soon-to-be second-year Hogwarts student.”
Scarlet paused thoughtfully. “Do you recall the recent news about the bodies of war victims being found?” She tilted her head slightly. “That was me – alongside Professor Dumbledore, of course. I destroyed one of his soul fragments there, using a method I’m not inclined to share with you.”
Lucius Malfoy now realised that he needed to view the girl before him as an equal, no longer soft-spoken, clever friend his son had described.
He studied Scarlet carefully before speaking. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that I were to...entertain this proposal,” he began, his voice low and deliberate. “What assurances could you possibly offer that would justify the risks of such a...transaction? Simply removing the Dark Mark guarantees nothing.”
“I know you don’t trust Professor Dumbledore, so I won’t use him as a guarantee. But I am a Seer, which is how I’ve been able to track down all the soul fragments.” Scarlet smiled, her tone matter-of-fact. “And it’s through this knowledge that I’ve come to warn you of the fate of the Malfoys, a tragedy that would unfold if I hadn’t intervened. Alongside hunting down the soul fragments, I’ve targeted the remaining Death Eaters as well.”
Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes, watching the girl’s leisurely and frail appearance with growing suspicion. “You’re making very bold claims, Ms. Hong. I see no reason for such confidence on your part, nor any pressing danger from any so-called mark you insist I have on my forearm. I doubt this transaction will go as you expect.”
Scarlet sighed, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. “I assumed you’d prefer freedom from the Dark Mark, but it appears I misjudged.”
After a moment of contemplation, she nodded to herself. “Very well, plans have changed. I’ll share the secret I was intending to keep from you. Would you like a glimpse into the knowledge...of a deity?”
“...Pardon?”