He played the emotional card again. "Mr. Moriarty, I know that since your return to the wizarding world, the Slytherin family has not formed an alliance with any existing house. But I believe the Malfoy family is a worthy candidate.
Yes, that's right. I recommend myself as your partner. We can start anew with the New Broom and build a vast business empire together."
Moriarty appeared to consider Lucius' proposal thoughtfully, furrowing his brow slightly and replying solemnly, "Lucius, do you know—if anyone in this world is qualified to ally with the Slytherin bloodline, it can only be the descendants of the three giants.
Compared to other pure-blood families, the Malfoys only possess certain advantages—not qualifications."
Lucius' expression stiffened; he opened his mouth, only to close it again weakly.
He knew Moriarty's words held truth. The Gaunt family, another descendant of Slytherin, was long considered the last pure branch of the line, albeit impoverished and volatile. But it was also common knowledge among pure-blood circles that the Gaunts were only a cadet branch of the true Slytherin bloodline.
And if even a cadet branch like the Gaunts could rank among the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families—alongside the Blacks, Malfoys, and others—then surely, the direct lineage of the Slytherins stood far above the rest in nobility and blood purity.
Moriarty understood this as well. But his tone softened slightly as he continued, "Still, given our current rapport, I am inclined to give the Malfoy family a chance. You're right, French wizards are not wealthier than us."
Lucius' eyes lit up as he eagerly asked what kind of opportunity Moriarty was referring to. At last, Moriarty cast the bait.
"I need you to pay a visit to the Jewish Marquis among the vampires. I want you to inquire about the connection between the vampire ancestors and their hostility toward elves. Uncover the secrets behind the vampire progenitors."
"Vampires? Jewish Marquis? Elves? The ancestor of vampires? What are you even talking about?" Lucius looked utterly confused. Vampires and his world of aristocratic wizardry were polar opposites.
During Voldemort's reign of terror decades ago, there were no vampires among the Death Eaters. There were werewolves, yes, but Lucius had always looked down on such creatures of the dark. He certainly never dealt with vampires.
"As I said, this is your opportunity—yours and the Malfoys'. If you uncover the truth I seek and return safely, I will gladly share in the prosperity of the New Broom enterprise with your family.
As for Nicolas Flamel, allow me to handle that matter personally. Even if it costs me, we're friends—after all."
Moriarty's tone was serious at first but grew gradually lighter and more affable, ending with a polite smile.
This was the art of friendship—measured trust and calculated sincerity.
The New Broom project required a capable ally. The partner could be anyone, or any family.
If Lucius succeeded and returned? The Malfoys would be that ally.
If he didn't? Well, Lucius needn't worry—Moriarty would graciously care for his wife and son.
After successfully unlocking the workshop's secure password, Moriarty turned to Lucius with a confident smile. He knew Lucius wouldn't decline—he had no valid reason to refuse.
Sure enough, Lucius thought carefully and said, "I need seven days to prepare."
"Three days. No more. In three days, you will locate the Jewish Marquis' residence, make your decision, and leave immediately."
Moriarty held up three fingers. Seven days was too long. In seven days, Hogwarts might be forced to shut down.
"Fine," Lucius acquiesced, "I believe I can conclude this visit in five days. In five days, I'll return to the manor—and I hope to see Draco soaring on a New Broom!"
"Deal."
It was as if he were gifting a treasured heirloom to his son. Producing a New Broom within five days? Nothing could be simpler for Moriarty.
Moriarty gave Lucius a knowing smile. "When will Draco ever understand your sacrifices?"
Lucius returned a faint smile but said nothing.
"I'm happy to see you both conversing so harmoniously. Dessert will be ready shortly." Narcissa appeared for the third time, this time carrying a golden tray. She offered a soft smile to Lucius and a respectful nod to Moriarty.
Moriarty noticed Draco did not accompany her this time, but the tray held a stunning array of dessert accoutrements.
Sugar bowls, milk pitchers, warming covers, hourglasses, bells, lace doilies, tea warmers, individual dessert trays, jam and cream dishes, three-tiered snack towers, biscuit holders, fruit platters, lemon slicers…
Clearly, this afternoon tea would be extravagant.
Narcissa placed each utensil in its proper position before descending the stairs again for the final time.
This was her fourth trip up the stairs with the golden tray. Finally, she presented it to Moriarty. "Here—quick, pick your favorite!"
Moriarty glanced down to see four ornate, three-tiered dessert trays neatly arranged. Each dish was porcelain with soft pink petal motifs.
On the first tray: sandwiches on the top tier, traditional English confections in the middle, and rich chocolate truffle cake on the bottom.
The second tray: miniature fruit towers on the top, lemon and apple pies in the middle, and soufflés on the bottom. Moriarty selected a cranberry-flavored soufflé and placed it in his mouth.
"Excellent," Moriarty nodded appreciatively. "Perfectly sweet and tangy, with the fragrance of fresh milk. I daresay Ms. Narcissa's craftsmanship rivals the best among pure-blooded ladies."
Narcissa beamed at the compliment and glanced with pride at Lucius, who remarked disdainfully, "In recent years, many pure-bloods have forgotten the manners of afternoon tea. They just rush up and grab whatever they can reach—gorging themselves like wild animals.
You wouldn't believe it, but such families surround us: the Weasleys, the Longbottoms… Their children treat desserts like goblins treat gold."
Moriarty chuckled inwardly, thinking, You left out Crabbe and Goyle—Draco's loyal companions-to-be.
Still, Lucius had a point. Dessert etiquette was an age-old ritual. Moriarty replied, "Regardless of how the times evolve, we as wizards must uphold etiquette—not just for the sake of our lineage, but as a commitment to a life of refinement.
So, I must thank you, Ms. Narcissa. I know you spent considerable effort preparing this authentic English afternoon tea. The desserts are divine."
Moriarty stood and gave a slight nod of appreciation. Narcissa smiled and rose in turn.
"And my thanks to you, Mr. Lucius, for the invitation and hospitality. This has been my first taste of true pure-blooded tradition since my return to Britain."
Moriarty smiled graciously at Lucius, who rose and offered a formal bow. "The honor is mine, sir."
By now, the Malfoys sensed that Moriarty was preparing to leave. Lucius began his farewells with carefully chosen, dignified language. After he finished, Moriarty shook his hand firmly and said with finality, "Make the most of your chance."
Lucius nodded with solemn resolve. Moriarty turned and departed from Malfoy Manor without glancing back. He was exhausted—mentally and emotionally. These layers of social niceties drained him.
But the mission was a success. Lucius had agreed to contact the Jewish Marquis, and Moriarty now had only to await news back at Hogwarts.
Ah yes—and he had sampled Narcissa's exquisite desserts. That alone made the trip worthwhile.
Narcissa, too, was thoroughly worn out. She had personally prepared four full trays of desserts and carried them up and down four times!
After Moriarty left, she drew her wand and pointed at the golden dining table. "Reverto Cito!"
All the utensils and trays soared back downstairs and nestled themselves neatly into their respective cupboards. Narcissa collapsed into her chair, too tired to lift another finger.
Yet, she gave no thought to the exhausted house-elves. Instead, she called out in a tone of practiced authority, "Dobby! Go tidy the kitchen!"
Just then, Lucius returned. He had no time to comfort his weary wife or their sulking son. He made straight for the study and began drafting letters. He needed to mobilize his network of contacts to locate the elusive residence of the Jewish Marquis.
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