Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

Lucius gazed out the window of the Hogwarts Express compartment in a pensive frown as the train chugged through the lush Scottish countryside.

Truthfully, Lucius had little desire to return to Hogwarts controlled by that the pretentious, twinkle-eyed old fool he despised most in the wizarding world. Each time he was forced to endure the sight of that infuriating smile on that old face, Lucius felt a deep, instinctual discomfort that manifested both physically and psychologically.

In the past, duty and position had compelled him to make an annual visit to the school. After all, he was a director on the Hogwarts Board of Governors and needed to come to exercise his authority.

However, ever since that humiliating incident the previous year when Dumbledore had essentially kicked him off the board, Lucius had seriously avoided entertaining even the merest thought of setting foot at that unpleasant school, except for one desperate visit to seek help from Bryan Watson.

And yet, in a surprising turn of events, here he was, within a private compartment on the scarlet steam engine with his beloved wife Narcissa by his side.

It was not any sudden, inexplicable interest in the Triwizard Tournament that had lured him back, nor a desire to check in on his son Draco's academic progress. No, the sole motivating factor behind this unanticipated journey was a personal invitation from Bryan Watson.

If there was one person among Hogwarts' staff that he was willing to see, it would definitely be Watson.

The moment he received the invitation letter from Bryan Watson, Lucius had been genuinely taken aback. He harbored no illusions that Watson would prostrate himself before the Malfoy family like so many other flatterers and social climbers; if anything, Lucius was very aware that in this particular relationship, he was far more likely to be the one currying favor.

Mutual Use- this was something Lucius Malfoy had long figured out.

The intersection of their goals was the Dark Lord. At this point, Lucius saw very clearly that the Dark Lord's true purpose was not at all to lead them in restoring the glory of pureblood families. He was a thorough tyrant who only wanted domination and for everyone to be his slave.

Lucius yearned to break free from the suffocating grip of his enslavement, but he was aware of his own limitations and lacked the courage to take that step. No one knew better than he the gruesome fate that awaited those who dared betray the Dark Lord; on far too many occasions, Lucius himself had been the one that carried out those merciless retribution.

Watson's intention to oppose the Dark Lord was also not deliberately hidden. He was apparently aware of the difficulty, so he hoped...no, perhaps he saw some value remaining in the Malfoy family and thus granted an opportunity to be exploited.

Lucius could not refuse either side, so he could only hedge his bets on both.

This behavior was dangerous, but fortunately, this was precisely what the Malfoy family excelled at.

"Dear?" The sweet tones of his wife's voice pulled Lucius from his brooding contemplation.

Narcissa slid open the compartment door with a soft whoosh and walked inside. She observed her husband with a questioning tilt of her head, noting his distant expression as he gazed out the window.

"Hmm?" Lucius responded distractedly, the noncommittal noise emanating from deep within his throat. He tore his eyes away from the rural landscape and focused on his wife as she settled into the plush seat across from him. "What is it? Who did you encounter?"

"I just ran into Mrs. Fudge in the corridor," Narcissa replied, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her spotlessly tailored robes. "The Minister himself didn't accompany her, but he secured her an invitation. We made plans to go shopping together in Paris next Monday."

Lucius muttered something indecipherable under his breath, his brow furrowing slightly at the mention of the Minister's wife. After a moment's hesitation, Narcissa raised a subject that had been weighing on her mind.

"There are quite a few notable individuals aboard the train, Lucius," She said carefully. "Perhaps we should to take advantage of the opportunity to network and strengthen our connections?"

As a businessman, Lucius was keenly aware of the crucial role connections and relationships played in the pursuit of profit and power. Once, not so very long ago, he would have leaped at such an opportunity, working his calculated charm on all the right people, quietly building alliances and gathering potentially valuable tidbits of information.

But today, faced with his wife's suggestion, Lucius shook his head. He was in no mood, of course. Where once he would have walked into Hogwarts with all the casual arrogance of a king surveying his land, today he could only come after receiving an invitation like an unwanted guest.

Lucius's bad mood lingered like a cloud over him as the train at last shuddered to a halt and he stepped onto the platform, only to stop short in surprise at the sight that greeted him. Hogsmeade Station had been transformed, the quaint but rather dilapidated building of his memory had been renovated and expanded.

Cheerful welcome banners fluttered in the crisp Highland breeze. Artfully arranged flower baskets added a touch of warmth and whimsy to the station, their fragrant blooms perfuming the air with the sweet scent of spring.

But it was not the beautifying enhancements that captured Lucius's attention. As he surveyed the platform, his eyes quickly discerned the presence of a welcoming committee dispatched by the school, a team of fresh-faced young wizards and witches.

This soured Lucius' mood a bit. In his view, this represented a lack of importance. When he spotted his son Draco among the young wizards, his brows shot up.

"Draco!" Narcissa called out, her voice filled with pride and affection as she and Lucius made their way towards their son.

Draco, however, remained stoically at his post, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he seriously ignored his parents' approach. When Narcissa reached his side, her face burning with pleasure at seeing him in such good spirits, he acknowledged her presence with a brief nod.

"Why are you here--"

"I'm here on official business, Mother," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and clipped. "I have duties to attend to."

Lucius, meanwhile, had turned his attention to the other young wizards and witches assembled on the platform, his eyes narrowed as they came to rest on a boy with a distinctive scar on his face. After a moment, he withdrew his penetrating gaze and focused once more on his son.

"All of this was arranged by Watson?"

Before Draco could voice a response, Lucius's attention was diverted by the arrival of Mrs. Fudge and Madam Bones, who strolled past the Malfoys deep in conversation. Mrs. Fudge, her eyes wide with wonder, exclaimed over the changes that had taken place since her last visit to Hogwarts.

"Oh, it's been ages since I was last here!" She said, her voice trembling with emotion. "And to think, Professor Dumbledore even arranged for carriages to transport us to the castle. How marvelous! I remember in the old days, we had to walk the entire way. If we were lucky, a kind villager might offer us a ride part of the way."

"Dumbledore has always been a thoughtful and considerate host," Madam Bones, her expression one of quiet amusement, shook her head slightly. "But I rather suspect that the bulk of the credit for today's arrangements belongs to someone else."

A carriage bearing the crest of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries rattled past, its occupants - a team of healers and mediwizards - settling in for the short journey to the castle. A trio of young wizards, their faces filled with expressions of grim determination, immediately followed alongside the carriage, their wands at the ready to provide an escort.

After the carriage drove away, the goblin leader Barnah shifted his gaze from this scene to the antennas erected on the distant mountaintop and a glimmer of amusement shined through his cloudy eyes.

Nearby, a middle-aged wizard and his daughter were engaged in a lively discussion as they prepared to board their own carriage. The young woman, a striking beauty with glossy dark hair and sparkling eyes, gazed up at her father with undisguised admiration.

"Papa, how did you manage to secure us an invitation?" She asked, her voice breathless with excitement. "I had no idea you had connections at Hogwarts!"

The wizard, puffing up his chest with pride, coughed lightly into his fist before responding.

"Don't forget, Beatrice," He said, his voice dripping with affected sternness, "we are still one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The Fawleys may not have the same influence they once did, but our name still carries weight in certain circles." He paused and a sly smile appeared on his lips. "Ahem, and of course, it doesn't hurt that I have a long-standing friendship with Mr. Watson."

As the Fawleys disappeared into their carriage, Harry stood watching from a inconspicuous distance, his brow furrowed in concentration. He always felt this man seemed a bit familiar.

"Grandpa, will I get to see Mr. Watson soon?"

A few feet away, a energetic young boy tugged at his grandfather's sleeve, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Do you think he'll still remember saving me before?"

Vipor Dreghorn smiled gently down at his grandson, his old face softening with affection. "I'm sure he will, Ludwig,"

But even as he spoke, his eyes were drawn irresistibly toward the looming silhouette of Hogwarts castle, and his expression turned complex. 

One carriage after another slowly departed Hogsmeade station under the escort of young wizards. Narcissa lifted the curtain and watched her son following closely beside the carriage, eyes full of pity.

"Draco" She called out, her voice soft and persuading, "come inside and sit with us. There's room for the Greengrass and Parkinson girls as well. There's no need for you to walk all the way to the castle. It's silly to expect such a thing of you!"

"I'm carrying out an escort mission, Mother. You can't let me become a laughingstock--"

Narcissa sat in her seat with a sigh, recognizing the futility of arguing with her son when he was in such a disobedient mood. Beside her, Lucius watched the exchange with an inscrutable expression, his pale eyes glittering in the dim light of the carriage.

Suddenly, a movement in the bushes caught Draco's attention, and before long his wand was in his hand. With a sharp, precise flick of his wrist, he sent a jet of black energy streaking towards the source of the disturbance.

A moment later, a massive viper emerged from the bushes with a twitching fox in its jaws.

Draco let out a huff of disappointment as he lowered his wand, the rush of adrenaline fading as quickly as it had come.

"False alarm," He said aloud out to Astoria, who had taken up a defensive position on the other side of the carriage. "Just a bloody snake, not an actual threat."

The Malfoys in the carriage witnessed this scene. They looked at each other and could see the surprise in the other's eyes. 

The speed and precision with which Draco had acted was impressive, especially coming from a boy who had once been more concerned with his own comfort than with honing his magical skills. It was a telling indication of just how much their son had changed during his time at Hogwarts, and it left them both feeling strangely unsettled.

Narcissa no longer tried to persuade Draco to board. She looked at the castle growing distinct amidst the towering woods and said in a tone laced with complex emotions,

"Hogwarts has finally become somewhat presentable, hasn't it, dear?"

'What are you trying to do, Bryan Watson?'

Lucius was not as happy as he imagined he would be. Through the curtain, he watched his son with a solemn face and his heart was filled with worries. 

'Will there come a day, Draco, when we must face off on the battlefield?'

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