The atmosphere at the dining table stayed lively and warm. Only Lucius Malfoy floated somewhere outside of it.

He watched Graham pouring wine for Snape with eager attention, the liquid spilling across the young wizard's hand.

Lucas wanted to lick it off. Snape swatted the hand away immediately and issued a stern reprimand about table manners.

His wife had also drunk quite a bit. Narcissa watched the exchange between Snape and Graham with open amusement.

Lucius Malfoy found it excruciating.

The one who stays sober suffers most.

Fortunately, the dinner had reached its end. The host invited the guests to relocate.

The house-elves had already set out tea and fresh fruit on the side tables by the sofas.

The moment Draco landed, Draco made a beeline for Lucas without a trace of fatigue. Lucas accepted this willingly, along with Draco's persistent tugging and pulling at his robes.

"Ahem." Lucius Malfoy wanted nothing more than to put some distance between Graham and his child.

He offered a reasonable pretext. "Lucas — I trust Severus conveyed the matter I mentioned in my letter?"

Lucas played along without missing a beat. "Yes, the professor mentioned it. Something about a promotional collaboration with a sweet shop."

"Shall we discuss it in my study?" Lucius Malfoy moved to change venues. He would rather keep the danger to himself, and in any case, Graham had no immediate motive to make a sudden move.

Snape was keeping Narcissa company in conversation. He noticed Lucas follow Lucius Malfoy and half-considered going along, then thought better of it.

"Remember to tell Mr. Malfoy about that collection of yours," Snape said. What he had actually wanted to say was: Remember to sell that junk to him.

Lucas read the professor's mischievous intent perfectly. Outwardly only nodding at the reminder, Lucas sent a wave through the Heartstrings, the nervous excitement that builds just before doing something underhanded.

Snape caught one clear look at Lucas's perfectly composed expression right before a scheme was set in motion.

He had a small problem of his own, as it turned out.

Snape glanced down and found that the Malfoy household's little one had attached itself to his robes. Draco showed absolutely no awe toward Snape whatsoever, burying a face directly into Snape's leg.

Lucas followed Lucius Malfoy into the study.

The room was slightly different from the last visit. There were faint traces of magical fluctuation along all four walls.

Lucas said nothing of it and spoke first. "I acquired some collectibles on the island. The professor thought you might be interested — he said you were a collector."

Lucius Malfoy kept up a strained smile and squeezed out one sentence through it. "I truly had no idea that was how Severus described me."

But Lucas had already come this far. "Let me see what you bought."

Lucas fished several alchemical items in need of repair from his pocket and walked Lucius Malfoy through each one in careful detail, how it would shine once restored, what it would be worth.

Lucius Malfoy remained composed in the face of the worthless objects.

He thought back first to the mischievous look on Snape's face at the moment of parting. Since Snape had been teasing the young wizard about not encountering any mortal peril, perhaps Lucius Malfoy could find a chance to turn the tables.

Lucas paid no mind to Lucius Malfoy's startled reactions. The real work was the sustained current of nervous tension being fed through the Heartstrings to Snape, the kind that builds when a scheme has been long in the planning.

It was groundwork, in its way.

If Lucius Malfoy wanted these items repaired, he would inevitably have to visit the shops in Knockturn Alley again.

Lucas would be waiting there.

But Lucas understood the value of pacing. A comparatively generous price was offered.

Mr. Malfoy, showing admirable good sense, took the entire lot.

To reward that cooperative attitude, Lucas produced the final piece.

A crystal orb dense with wispy, thread-like matter was set onto Lucius Malfoy's desk.

The forced smile nearly cracked.

If Graham had come here simply to extract money, it would have been simpler to go pick up a stone by the river. Why go to all this trouble to produce such a flawed and inferior Prophecy Orb.

Lucius Malfoy had never seen a Prophecy Orb with so many impurities. It was not even fully spherical.

"This is the greatest find from my entire trip." Lucas explained patiently, forgiving Lucius Malfoy for lacking the eye to appreciate its historical significance. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Lucius Malfoy could not bring himself to agree.

Looking at the natural cracks and impurities across the surface, it fell short of beautiful from any angle whatsoever.

Or perhaps that part of the Dark Lord had finally ruined the eyesight from years of studying the Dark Arts.

Would the Dark Lord find Lucius Malfoy ugly, and Snape handsome?

Lucius Malfoy stared at the wispy threads inside, thoughts drifting.

Then the mist within the orb seemed to spread. Indistinct figures moved somewhere in the depths.

"What does this thing record?" Lucius Malfoy's expression turned contemplative.

Since it was a Prophecy Orb, the prophecy it contained was naturally what made it precious.

Lucas gestured for Lucius Malfoy to place a hand on it.

The orb had been treated in a particular way. From within it came a voice speaking an ancient form of English.

The flickering images recorded a young woman's terrified profile. A forest. A pursuit. Death.

Lucius Malfoy listened carefully. Marks in History of Magic had been average, but not so poor as to miss several of the allusions within.

An uncertain hand released the orb. Agitation began to build, yet not enough certainty to speak without asking. "This is..."

"This crystal orb prophesied the extinction of the Ravenclaw name. Helena Ravenclaw died at the hands of the Bloody Baron. Rowena Ravenclaw died of grief as a result."

Lucius Malfoy's expression shifted. The orb's value registered immediately, and a possessive pull took hold.

But the composure returned quickly. Half a step back. Careful restraint. "Is this also for sale?"

"Ten thousand Galleons." Lucas quoted the price with a smile.

It was a price that stung.

Lucius Malfoy almost never made purchases through legitimate channels, but this was genuinely something of exceptional commemorative value. Its worth ranked just below the treasures of the four Founders.

It also reminded Lucas of something. Since Lord Voldemort had chosen Ravenclaw's Diadem, would Lord Voldemort choose the other Founders' treasures as well?

"Done." Lucius Malfoy gazed at the crystal orb for a long moment, then agreed despite the ache it cost.

"It's a very good deal." Lucas pressed the point while the opening was there.

"Fate is unfathomable, and we are simply caught within it. The unknown is the natural state of things. If someone ever comes to you seeking cooperation and claims to see through everything, remember: every promise has a price marked somewhere in the dark."

Lucius Malfoy failed to follow. "Is this... something you came to understand on your voyage at sea?"

Graham was clearly trying to say something. But this wizard was far too fond of speaking in riddles.

Lucius Malfoy could not, for the moment, work out what was being referred to.

"Yes." Lucas shifted the subject brightly. "So — this Honeydukes collaboration you mentioned. What exactly does it look like?"

➤ Next: Pondering Life

Chapter 281 - Pondering Life

"That's the situation, Professor." Lucas was filling Snape in on the trade secrets he'd picked up from Lucius Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy says we need to design a set of miniature Tin Soldiers — like Chocolate Frog cards — for young witches and wizards to collect."

"But Greengrass has a different suggestion." Lucas shifted gears. The name hadn't come up in a while, and it caught Snape's attention.

"After graduation we lost touch," Lucas offered briefly. "Greengrass apparently heard about the Tin Soldiers and reached out to Marcus directly. They hit it off and started talking about a collaboration."

Snape neither agreed nor disagreed.

Lucas went on. "The proposal is to put out some Tin Soldier Chocolate Frogs — cut the chocolate costs, and tuck Tin Soldier figurines and guards inside instead. No need to launch a whole new product line."

"Greengrass." Snape repeated the name of his former student. He had never noticed Greengrass having that kind of talent.

Lucas sighed and took the chance to take a dig at both of them. "Sometimes I think Slytherin is finished. To think two people actually came up with an idea like that."

Snape didn't dispute the assessment. He had probably thought the same thing countless times facing most of his first-years.

"Not two," Snape said. "Three."

Lucas looked mildly puzzled.

Snape didn't spare him. "There's also your dear Mr. Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy only said he needed to think it over." Lucas understood that when putting people down, you couldn't just say bad things straight through.

There was an art to it. With Mr. Malfoy, Lucas's approach was primarily flattery.

Drop in something about Mr. Malfoy here and there, and Snape would naturally file it away against the platinum-haired wizard without even noticing.

Before third year started, life was mostly quiet.

Argos's spider farm was thriving. Igor Karkaroff's first batch of talent candidates had yielded modest results.

Argos had interviewed a few prospects and placed them inside the liquor trade to see how they handled things.

The truly old money of the British wizarding world was locked away in Azkaban. The talent in Germany was living under assumed names.

None of it was urgent. Lucas contacted Argos as usual, and before the new term began, he wanted to open the Knockturn Alley shop one more time.

Still for Mr. Malfoy's benefit, as always.

Only this particular opening came with a few small unexpected moments.

The form Argos had chosen this time was a wizard caught mid-Petrification curse. His features were almost entirely blurred, and chips of stone crumbled off him as he moved.

The raven leader didn't usually volunteer opinions, but he was genuinely studying wizards and magic.

He would read in the Forbidden Forest, only his choice of reading material wasn't ideal.

He seemed to be working through some collection of wizarding legends. Possibly Greek mythology.

That limited reading diet showed clearly in the shopkeeper's costume he designed.

It also made the shop considerably more famous. Customers spreading word about the mysteriously appearing store would inevitably mention the shopkeeper who arrived in full theatrical getup every single time.

Before entering the shop, the stone-man shopkeeper did what he always did: slipped an extra gold Galleon to the wizard selling Potions.

That wizard had long since accepted that his vocabulary could not keep pace with the number of Galleons in the shopkeeper's pocket.

He had stopped cursing a long time ago.

He simply endured the wordless assault of money in silence.

Until today, when he suddenly called out: "Wait."

Lucas was mildly surprised. He went carefully on guard.

Argos startled. He turned to Lucas. "What does he want?"

The shopkeeper turned slowly and waited for the wizard to state his request.

Lucas answered Argos inwardly: Generally, he'll make a request that's very hard to fulfill. If I manage it, he's willing to give everything.

Argos assumed Lucas was joking.

The wizard sitting cross-legged on the floor began to speak. "I've been watching you for a long time. Strictly speaking, more than two years, from the very first time you came to me for Potions. Your life has gotten better and better."

Lucas wasn't surprised.

"Work hard enough and life can always improve." The shopkeeper's low voice filled the space. His appearance was stone, and his voice carried a low rumbling sound like rocks rolling down a slope.

The cross-legged wizard gave a cold laugh. "Work hard enough," he said, "and can the dead come back to life?"

"Is that an academic question," the shopkeeper asked, "or an emotional one?"

"You run a shop. People in the alley say your shop can make anyone's wishes come true." The cross-legged wizard ignored the interjection. "But I know, you just select your customers in advance."

"I know resurrection is a luxury. It only drags the living down into hell alongside the dead. So I only want one thing: to speak with the dead once. That kind of power exists in our world. Let me say what I need to say to the person I want to see, and I'll give you my life in exchange."

Oh.

Argos let out a silent sound of admiration.

He found that even something Lucas said offhandedly had turned out to be exactly right.

And the cross-legged wizard had even answered the shopkeeper's earlier question: "What I said about communicating with the dead, that's an academic question."

The shopkeeper considered for a moment. There weren't many things capable of reaching the dead.

"The Resurrection Stone. That's what you're hoping to find?"

"Then I'll keep an eye out for you."

A gold coin produced before business began, same as always. The stone-man shopkeeper disappeared into the depths of the alley.

.

At the corner of Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk, a raven settled smoothly onto a branch. Through the thick summer canopy, it watched the cicadas in silence.

Argos hadn't returned to raven form in a long time, but Lucas insisted it was more suitable this way.

The wait stretched on.

Argos watched a household quietly turn on the drip irrigation in their garden and carefully water the lawn.

But the moment a car passed, the Muggle would switch it off like a guilty thief and retreat back inside.

Seven or eight times. Back and forth.

The cicadas nearby were already wearing Argos down. Out of habit, he pecked once, knocked one off its perch, and ate it.

It gave him no energy.

Just a brief sense of still being alive, which was, of course, an illusion.

It was while the magical creature was idly contemplating existence that a small, slight child stumbled into the area.

Far too small. Three or four years old. Nowhere near the age to be out on the street alone.

And so the child had made the whole way here avoiding every other Muggle in sight.

The child hadn't noticed the raven above. Argos couldn't make anything of it either.

But Lucas had already confirmed what had been a suspicion.

That's enough. Lucas told Argos.

Come back. His mood was flat.

➤ Next: Boldness Born of Certainty