HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them

In Wiltshire, England, on a hilltop invisible to Muggles, stood a vast manor estate. Carefully designed gardens surrounded the manor, complete with fountains and freely roaming white peacocks. Exquisite wrought iron gates stood directly opposite the manor, their magical radiance seeming to warn every ill-intentioned intruder attempting to break in.

The interior of the manor was extremely luxurious. Goblin-made fine furniture could be seen everywhere, countless precious ancient paintings and portraits hung casually on the walls like ordinary decorations, and almost every inch of floor tile was covered by magnificent carpets, with not a trace of stone flooring visible.

But today, this manor that should have been filled with aristocratic atmosphere was shrouded in gloom. The master and mistress of the manor sat silently on either side of a coffee table, upon which lay a newspaper and a crumpled-looking letter.

After a long while, Narcissa spoke first, her tone filled with anger.

"I truly cannot imagine that the Ministry of Magic would allow such people to search pure-blood family estates."

"That matter is not important."

His voice low, Lucius spoke slowly.

"The Ministry of Magic cannot possibly move against pure-blood families in the near future, at least not for several months. This time is enough for us to dispose of those things that cannot see the light."

As he spoke, he looked at the letter on the coffee table, his heart full of anxiety and unease.

The real trouble was this letter.

Slowly extending his left hand, Lucius grasped the letter on the coffee table, his fingers trembling slightly... a trembling that seemed like anger, yet also like fear.

Narcissa across from him obviously didn't understand the importance of this letter, only that it had appeared on this coffee table because it was delivered together with the newspaper.

But Lucius knew very well what this letter meant.

Simply because of the sender's name written on the letter.

The content wasn't long but was strangely divided into two sections. The first paragraph's logic was very clear, but the second paragraph was very chaotic, with even the handwriting appearing crooked, as if the two paragraphs came from completely different people.

I've been discovered by Dumbledore's lackey. I need you to find me now, find me before Dumbledore's lackey finds me, and give me a safe place to stay.

I know you've always wanted to distance yourself from the Master, but if you don't provide me help and let Dumbledore capture me, you'll definitely regret it.

Trust me, what I know is enough to bring you down, bring down... Dumbledore... good person, bad person... He said he's a good person; should I trust him? I shouldn't, I... should I? Oh right, sending a letter. Send it to Lucius, friend...

Looking at the chaotic handwriting at the end, Lucius crumpled the letter in his hand into a ball, countless chaotic thoughts crossing his mind.

He knew very well that what the letter said was all true. As one of the Master's most trusted people, that person definitely possessed countless pieces of information about other Death Eaters, including himself.

If it were another of the Master's confidants holding intelligence that could make him lose everything, he would help no matter what. But this person...

He was afraid that before he could even help, he'd be sold out by this brain-damaged fool!

After all, as long as it didn't involve the Master, that person was a complete idiot!

It was precisely because of this that he had been able to escape that crackdown on Death Eaters!

Throwing the paper ball in his hand into the wastebasket, Lucius's slender fingers tapped the coffee table as his mind raced frantically.

"I need to hide that book. No, hiding it might not be safe enough. I need to find a way to get rid of this trouble."

"But the premise is that I need to solve the immediate trouble... at least prevent him from saying those things."

"Help him... how should I help him?"

Just then, a timid figure carrying a tray came to the coffee table and placed the tea and teacups in his hands on the table before the two masters.

Perhaps because he was too flustered, when serving tea to Lucius, the small figure's hand shook and accidentally spilled a few drops of tea on the master's expensive suit.

The tea stain should have had little effect on the pure black suit, but this action obviously ignited Lucius's already barely contained fury.

Bang!

Snatching the teacup and smashing it hard on the ground, Lucius stood up from the sofa and looked down condescendingly at the trembling figure. He slowly approached and kicked the house-elf.

"Useless!"

Bang!

The sound of shattering porcelain came from downstairs, startling Draco, who was reading, into trembling all over.

He had never seen his father so angry. Although his father's voice remained steady, just listening was enough to feel his suppressed rage.

He didn't know who this so-called Smith was, but he wasn't interested in knowing. He only hoped that by dinner time, his father would have calmed down his anger; otherwise, his dinner would probably be quite uncomfortable.

But fortunately, his exam results this year were very good, so it shouldn't be uncomfortable to the point of being unable to eat.

Shaking his head, Draco returned his attention to his desk and continued reading the magical notes left by his Malfoy family ancestors. Previously, he hadn't liked coming to such boring places as the study, but since being inspired to learn by Potter that day, he had suddenly discovered that studying magic and learning knowledge was also quite interesting.

But courses like History of Magic were still out of the question. Apart from Malfoy family history, he didn't want to understand how other wizards and Muggles loved and fought each other.

Gradually, Draco became immersed again in the magic described in that book. Downstairs, there were no more sounds of his father smashing porcelain or beating Dobby... he seemed to have calmed down.

Time continued to pass. Having finished another chapter, Draco raised his head and glanced at the clock nearby.

It was almost dinner time.

Closing the book in his hands and putting it back on the shelf, Draco tidied his clothing and prepared to go downstairs for dinner.

Although his father was very angry today, since there had been no commotion for such a long time, he should have calmed down, right?

Just as he was thinking this, his peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of a seemingly unremarkable notebook.

That book was stuffed in a corner of the bookshelf, as if it had never been touched by anyone, so much so that it had accumulated a thin layer of dust.

But it was precisely this layer of dust that caught Draco's attention.

All the books in Malfoy Manor's study had been treated with magic and couldn't possibly accumulate even a speck of dust.

Why hadn't this notebook been treated?

Curious, Draco pulled out the notebook, but upon opening it, he discovered that except for a name written on the first page, the remaining pages were all blank, without any content.

An ordinary blank diary? But it looked quite old... why would his father keep such a notebook?

After flipping through a few more pages, Draco shook his head, closed the notebook, put it back in its place, and prepared to go downstairs for dinner.

But he still remembered the name written on the first page.

T.M. Riddle