Chapter 292: Malfoy's Hegemony Reappears!
Inside the softly lit compartment of the Hogwarts Express, Alexander and Luna had been quietly staring at each other for what felt like ages.
Eventually, Luna broke the silence by raising a copy of The Quibbler to cover her face, her silvery eyes peeking just above the edge like a shy kitten pretending not to be curious.
The train had already begun to move, but something strange struck her. Her delicate ears twitched once, twice. Then she lowered the magazine slightly and whispered, "Why can't I hear anything? Not even the sound of the wheels?"
Alexander smiled faintly. "Hmm… maybe it's the soundproof bats," he said softly.
Luna blinked, intrigued. "Soundproof bats? What are those?" She lowered The Quibbler completely, leaning forward until her small face was only inches from his. Her breath carried the faint scent of tomatoes.
Alexander didn't retreat. "They're invisible creatures," he began, his tone slow and teasing. "Similar to ghosts, but much quieter. They hate noisy crowds, so they stay close to wizards who prefer silence—those lost in thought or who tend to be alone."
He gestured lightly around them. "When soundproof bats gather nearby, the whole world goes silent. That's probably why it's so quiet now."
Luna's expression brightened. "I like them very much," she said seriously. "They let me concentrate on reading. But sometimes they make me miss dinner—my father calls me, and I don't hear him at all."
She nodded solemnly, then added, "But they must not eat harassing bulls. Those are invisible too—they fly into your ears and jumble your thoughts! I think there are a few around right now. My head feels messy."
Alexander chuckled. "I think that might have more to do with your own thoughts, Luna."
Luna lifted The Quibbler again and muttered from behind it, "Then you must be the harasser."
"What?" Alexander asked with exaggerated innocence.
"I—I mean, aren't you my friend? Why didn't you ask my name?" she stammered, her voice suddenly small and uncertain.
"I don't think it's very gentlemanly to ask a cute girl her name right away," Alexander replied with a mischievous smile.
Luna stayed silent, gripping her magazine tightly—her pale fingers tense against the paper.
Then, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, she said, "My name is Luna. Luna Lovegood."
Alexander nodded. "Alright, Luna. My new friend."
The simple words made her blush furiously. She realized then that Alexander had heard everything—her voice, though soft as a mosquito's hum, had reached him clearly.
Ten quiet minutes passed, broken only by the low rumble of the train. Then Luna's stomach made a small, traitorous growl.
She blinked, puzzled. "That's strange. My father said there'd be a lady selling snacks on the train."
Her father, she knew, had never lied—except for that one time.
When he said, 'Mum will come back.'
Alexander gave a gentle smile. "Then it's my turn to be a gentleman."
With a small flick of his wand, a table full of food shimmered into existence before them—fresh bread, roast beef, stew, and steaming tomato soup. The comforting aroma quickly filled the compartment.
"I think you'll like this," he said, gesturing toward the meal.
Before Luna could reply, Jerry, the plump black cat, had already darted forward. His tiny bowl magically filled itself with soft stewed beef—his favorite treat.
As Alexander's enchanted familiar, Jerry didn't need to eat, but he still enjoyed pretending.
"Jerry's already eaten. What about you?" Alexander invited warmly.
Luna hesitated for only a moment before starting to eat, small bites at first. Her cheeks puffed slightly as she chewed, like a squirrel nibbling on a nut.
By the time they finished, twilight had begun to tint the sky outside. The table was spotless again, as if nothing had happened—though only minutes ago, soup had splashed everywhere thanks to Luna's unfamiliarity with chopsticks.
In the end, Alexander had fed her himself, much to her embarrassment.
Now, Luna hid once more behind The Quibbler, pretending to read.
"Luna, what are you looking at?" Alexander asked casually, pretending not to notice the redness of her cheeks visible through the thin paper.
"I'm… reading this!" she said hastily, pointing to a random page. The headline read:
> The Mysterious Elder Wand Reappears — Malfoy's Hegemony Returns!
The article was one of The Quibbler's more sensational pieces:
> "The Malfoy family—long dismissed as opportunistic Death Eaters—may soon reclaim influence over the Ministry of Magic.
Lest we forget, under the lesser-known Septimus Malfoy, the Ministry once fell under the control of his puppet, Angie Osbert.
Now, new rumors suggest that Lucius Malfoy has obtained none other than the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand known to exist and one of the three fabled Deathly Hallows.
An anonymous witness in Diagon Alley claims:
'The night was dark, and the air heavy… but I'll never forget that scene. It was Lucius Malfoy! He stood beneath the moonlight, grinning wickedly, the wand in his hand glowing with a green light… I fell to the ground and pretended to be dead. Otherwise, I'm sure I wouldn't be here now!'
When questioned, every renowned wandmaker in Europe denied ever crafting such a wand. Even Ollivander himself confessed:
'If the description is accurate, I could never make such a thing.'
Which leads us to only one possibility—
Lucius Malfoy has obtained the legendary Elder Wand!"
Alexander smiled faintly. "Well written," he commented.
Luna lowered the magazine slightly, her tone suddenly soft but proud. "My father is the editor, you know."
"I think it might not be as far-fetched as it sounds," she added seriously. "The Malfoy family has always had that ambition. Even before the Elder Wand rumors… look at how Draco Malfoy somehow became close to Harry Potter and even Ron Weasley. And how Sirius Black, a supposed Death Eater, was acquitted soon after."
Her voice was earnest, thoughtful—dreamy, yet sharp beneath the surface.
Alexander didn't interrupt. He simply watched her, quietly amused at how someone so whimsical could see through the tangled politics of the wizarding world with such clarity.
Outside, the train raced toward Hogwarts, the sunset glinting off the windowpane—an omen, perhaps, of strange days ahead.
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(End of Chapter 292)
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