Chapter 56: Wizard Hot Spring Sanatorium
In a corner of Bath, east of Avon, England, Abraxas Malfoy was lying on a lounge chair in the famous wizarding spa, enjoying the sunshine and breeze of late June.
He was an old man with platinum blond hair and a thin build. He had an arrogant look and a languid demeanor. At first glance, he looked like any other old man with a rotten temper. But anyone who knew him well could not ignore the sharp light that occasionally flashed from his cloudy gray eyes.
Beside him, a young man in a black Muggle T-shirt stretched out slowly, like a large cat just waking up from sleep. He wore a black duckbill hat to block the slightly glaring sunlight, but even without looking at his face, the passing waiters could sense the youthful energy emanating from him.
The contrast between youth and old age is extremely obvious on these two lounge chairs standing side by side.
At this moment, the only thing that could show their relevance was perhaps the few strands of platinum hair that peeked out from the brim of the boy's hat. This hair color had successfully led the female receptionist to guess that he must be the beloved grandson that Abraxas often talked about - Draco Malfoy.
"I heard that your father had a talk with you a few days ago." Abraxas glanced at Draco beside him with interest.
"Yes." Draco finally took the hat off his face. More similar features of the two were revealed - they both had gray eyes, and the same cold and arrogant temperament.
Draco carefully checked his grandfather, and finding that his expression remained calm, he continued, "He thought I was getting too close to some Gryffindors."
"Making a mountain out of a molehill! Being good at making friends with different people is a remarkable talent! We must keep all outstanding people within our grasp – that's the true Slytherin wisdom. Does he think just anyone can break into Gryffindor?" Abraxas said disdainfully. "Even me… never mind."
The old man slightly tilted his body to allow the warm sunlight to cover his old, dry, and often cold body more evenly.
While searching for the best angle for drying, he said to Draco, "My decades of life experience have taught me that making one more friend means opening up another path. As long as it doesn't harm the interests of the Malfoy family, do whatever you want to do and make any friends you can. One day, you may be grateful for who you are now."
Draco nodded. In this respect, his grandfather was indeed more open-minded than Lucius, and he made friends with both meat and vegetables; but he was a Malfoy after all, and his motives in making friends would never be completely pure.
"I'll go talk to your father. Lucius... he's a dedicated head of the family, a good husband, a good son, and a good father, isn't he?" Abraxas said, scratching his nose with disbelief. "But he lacks a sense of the bigger picture. He's too short-sighted! I heard he did something foolish a while ago! Of course, your mother has good judgment and is perceptive enough to persuade him to make up for this shortcoming. He's lucky."
Draco sat up straight in the recliner.
He looked at his grandfather in surprise - this was the first time he heard his grandfather evaluate Lucius with such a serious expression.
Although he was not polite to others, Abraxas always treated his grandson differently. On weekdays, he was always smiling and not serious, showing a mischievous temperament towards Draco.
This kind of real conversation is rare.
"When he was little, I didn't guide him well. I was too busy back then, always too busy to take care of myself." Abraxas laughed briefly. "I once told him not to put himself in front of the crowd, but to stand behind the leader, from a safe position where he could always coordinate the overall situation. I guess he didn't understand the true meaning of this. Over the years, he's done a lot of things that 'charged forward' himself."
Draco nodded silently. Although his grandfather was already in retirement and looked like an old naughty boy on the surface, not interfering much in the affairs of the Malfoy family, his evaluation of his father was still as sharp as ever.
"Your father is quite clever and knows how to handle current affairs. I must say that Lucius has done a good job over the years. He's been enterprising, building relationships, and actively accumulating wealth for the family and striving for a say. But in other words, an enterprising personality is always accompanied by the drawbacks of extremism, recklessness, and arrogance, which will affect his rational judgment as the head of the family. No one can always keep an eye on him and clean up his mess." Abraxas pondered, frowning. "The Malfoy family has lasted for centuries and will continue to do so in the future. Do you know what is most important to our family right now?"
Draco looked at his grandfather quietly, without answering rashly.
"The most important thing is to maintain the basic foundation and know how to maintain it. With the Malfoy family's current wealth and influence, it would certainly be a good thing if their power and status could be further improved; if not, at least they should not fall to the point where they would make their ancestors feel guilty. Draco, do you understand?" He looked at his precocious grandson solemnly. The child was looking at him calmly, as if he fully understood the profound meaning of these words.
In recent years, Abraxas has been observing secretly and feels that his grandson is growing rapidly.
He was not as ignorant and stupid as an ordinary 13-year-old boy. He learned things quickly and the magic he studied was often unexpectedly difficult, such as potions and dark magic. His Hogwarts report card made Abraxas proud every year.
He was very purposeful and tactful. Even though there was a difference between the two colleges, upon arriving at Hogwarts, he immediately connected with the famous Harry Potter - something that not everyone could do.
He had a keen sense of smell and a meticulous mind. This was evident in the capture of Peter Pettigrew. He really didn't know how the boy had done it - but the Order of Merlin, Second Class, hung prominently above the fireplace at Malfoy Manor, and any visitor would marvel at it.
His manners and speech were quite appropriate. He knew how to navigate social situations with the perfect balance, possessing the Malfoy family's noble bearing, which made people afraid to look down on him, yet knowing when to lower his status and approach those he could relate to. This was something Abraxas had recently experienced; Draco used this attitude towards some of his old friends—he usually managed to win the favor of these old men.
Although he was proud and reserved, he was not arrogant or presumptuous. Abraxas saw clearly that Draco was very good at reading people's expressions and words. He almost instinctively guessed everyone's expression and words. This was difficult to do without rigorous training, but he did it as if he was born with it.
Most importantly, he was hard to see through. Draco never showed admiration or contempt for any wizard. He was polite to them on the surface, but kept his true thoughts in his heart.
These are the qualities that a good householder should possess.
How did Lucius and Narcissa raise such an outstanding child? Abraxas thought, stroking his chin, and looking at the boy who smiled at him.
"You have to work harder and have a longer-term vision. A hundred years after I die, the Malfoy family will look to you." He couldn't see through the child, but he admired him very much. So, he finally said this.
"Grandfather, you will live a long life." Draco's words seemed sincere. He had always respected his grandfather. In his previous life, Abraxas had died of dragon pox at the beginning of his sixth grade.
That year also marked the beginning of the Malfoy family's precarious beginnings. It seemed that after his death, the Malfoy family began to fall into an increasingly dark abyss.
"Silly child, no one can live forever." Abraxas waved his hands, trying to appear indifferent, but he was still moved by his grandson's sincere expression.
He stared at Draco, as if trying to imprint his face in his mind. "I must say, I am very satisfied with your performance at Hogwarts, in every sense. The other day, I ran into an old friend, Horace Slughorn, at the nursing home. He came specially to congratulate me on having a wonderful grandson who had won the Order of Merlin."
Draco smiled calmly at his grandfather.
"That old fellow won't do anything without a profit." Abraxas's face was covered with lines of joy, and his cloudy eyes narrowed. "However, to some extent, I do admire him. Most of the students he's shown interest in have achieved success in various fields. I wouldn't be surprised if he came to win you over in the past two days."
Draco always felt that there was some water in his grandfather's words.
In his previous life, he had never received any favor from Slughorn, and even bringing up the name of Abraxas was useless. He thought the two men were not familiar with each other at all.
While they were talking, a bald old man who was as fat as a walrus walked over slowly. He stroked his thick silver beard like a walrus casually, and his bulging eyes slowly scanned them.
"Horace!" Abraxas waved lazily. "We were just talking about you—"
"Oh, I hope you're talking about my good side," said Slughorn briskly.
"Of course," Abraxas said, a shrewd smirk flashing across his face. He deliberately teased his goal-oriented old friend, "Do I have any gold coins here to attract you, the Niffler? I remember that at this time of year, you should usually reply to your beloved disciples."
"Ah, I was indeed writing a reply, but then I thought, the weather is so nice today, it would be a good idea to go out for a walk." Slughorn ignored the malicious words of Abraxas and said nonchalantly.
This sniffy figure, as Abraxas called him, had long been intrigued by the "gold coin" he'd set his sights on. As if he'd just spotted Draco beside his old friend, a look of affected surprise crossed his face. "If I'm not mistaken, this is the young man who received the Order of Merlin, Second Class. Your grandson, Draco, right?"
Abraxas nodded reservedly, displaying a defiant pride. Slughorn, that old spider... he knew he had bad intentions.
"Come, meet my grandson, Draco; my old friend, Horace Slughorn, who used to be the head of Slytherin and a legendary figure with many students all over the world!" There was a hint of exaggeration in Abraxas' tone, as if he was reciting a poem with an aria.
"How can you say that?" Slughorn sank into a nearby recliner and said with a grin, "I just have a few students I'm on good terms with!"
Draco was already on his feet when Slughorn appeared.
When the old friends had finished their pleasantries, he bowed politely to Slughorn.
Slughorn waved his hand kindly. "Don't be so polite, Draco. Your grandfather and I have a very good relationship. You are like half my grandson. Your grandfather shows you off to us several times a day. His precious grandson -"
Abraxas couldn't stand being exposed like this. He rolled his eyes at Slughorn out of the corner of his eye, and was caught by Draco's glare.
"What a pity! I retired too early! Look how many talented young people I've missed!" Slughorn counted on his fingers regretfully. "In your class alone, I could have at least two or three good ones. What a pity!"
He said "what a pity" again.
Anyone could hear the regret evident in his voice.
"Grandfather always told me that you are a highly skilled Potions master. Hogwarts would be a loss to the students without you," Draco complimented him.
"Is that what your grandfather said?" Slughorn glanced at Abraxas, who was pretending to sunbathe, with a smile, and his mood suddenly improved a lot.
He looked at Draco with interest. "I heard you did well in Potions. It's a rare opportunity to meet someone like me. If you have any Potions questions during the holidays, feel free to ask me! I'd be happy to answer them for you."
Draco knew that this was Slughorn's way of showing goodwill - he was willing to teach any student he was interested in some Potions knowledge. Speechless, with a strange feeling, he bowed deeply to Slughorn to express his gratitude.
Slughorn nodded at him, seemingly pleased with the results of his walk today. He waved his hand, slowly stood up from the recliner, and staggered away.
Draco looked at his back and thought to himself: Should I take this opportunity to ask him how to make some advanced potions?
In his previous life, he hadn't thoroughly studied certain potions, especially after learning advanced potion-making. At that time, he had put a lot of thought into the assassination of Dumbledore. Moreover, Slughorn was unwilling to pay any attention to him, let alone teach him everything he knew.
After a brief contact with Slughorn, Draco suddenly understood the fundamental reason why he ignored him in his previous life.
It wasn't because the Potions Master wasn't familiar with Abraxas, but because Lucius was in Azkaban. Draco was no longer his old friend's grandson, but the son of a Death Eater and prisoner. As a typical Slytherin, it was natural for Slughorn, a man of great skill and adaptability, to avoid him.
Draco and Hermione occasionally researched the making of advanced potions like Felix Felicis during their free time. Even after just looking at the book, they were already stuck on some details that they couldn't figure out.
Now that I've met this old man in advance, wouldn't it be a waste if I don't make good use of his intelligence? Draco looked thoughtful.
"You did very well, Draco." Abraxas looked at Slughorn's departing back and said with a sly smile, "There's no harm in making friends with him. He can always provide you with some unexpected resources. Of course, you have to give him something in exchange, a box of pineapple preserves, or some privileges."
Draco nodded, still lost in his own thoughts.
He was lost in thought when his grandfather suddenly tapped his head. Puzzled, he looked at his grandfather, only to find that Abraxas had returned to his somewhat mischievous old boyish demeanor - the grandfather who had been having a serious conversation with him just now seemed like a flash in the pan.
"Well, Malfoy, stop looking so gloomy and sad like an old man! Don't stay with me and waste your time in the sanatorium. I have a private party of old men to attend today, so it's not convenient for me to take you. Just go out for a walk by yourself and relax once in a while." He said to his grandson happily, "Bath is a great place for a vacation!"
Abraxas believed that his grandson's only shortcoming was his lack of interest in enjoying life.
Draco seemed to be too hard on himself. He worked hard all the time and stretched himself too thin - which was not healthy at all.
With his grandfather's unquestionable attitude, Draco could only raise his hands in surrender.
He shrugged, put on his baseball cap, turned and walked out of the sanatorium gate, leaving the leisurely atmosphere of the sanatorium to his own unconventional grandfather. He turned left and right in a deep alley, and finally walked from an inconspicuous narrow corridor to the noisy, neat and clean street of the small town of Bath.
It was two or three in the afternoon, and tourists were listlessly avoiding the sun, either going to a roadside souvenir shop to browse, or going to a famous museum to relax, or just drinking coffee or other alcoholic beverages under a huge parasol.
Draco lost interest.
He always felt uneasy when he thought about the fate of his grandfather Abraxas. He wanted to do something to change it, but it was not easy - Dragon Pox was a mystery in the wizarding world.
He stared intently, trying to recall the improved potion formula for treating dragon pox that appeared in his previous life, but he could not remember it clearly.
He was extremely bored. He walked through a group of tourists drenched in the sun, passed a small square, and finally decided to find a secluded cafe to kill time in this boring afternoon.
Unexpectedly, a hesitant voice suddenly came from behind: "Mr. Malfoy?"