Nait's sudden appearance naturally stirred Draco's suspicion.
In particular, the word "you all" made Draco narrow his eyes as he examined the calm expression on the steward's face.
Based on Draco's understanding of this House-elf, it couldn't possibly have been a slip of the tongue.
And this wasn't Dobby, either.
Which meant that the absence of Pansy's parents here wasn't some coincidence, not even an absurdly unlikely one. It had been arranged deliberately.
And that, of course, raised a problem.
"Nait, was it? What exactly is going on? Where is my mother?"
Though Draco had half a mind to complain about where Mr. Parkinson had gone, considering he'd been completely ignored by Pansy, it was clear she had already sensed that something was off as well.
However, as a House-elf belonging to the Malfoy family, Nait would not answer questions posed by witches or wizards outside the Malfoy line. Like most House-elves, their loyalty to their masters bordered on obsessive.
An existence like Dobby could only be described as an extreme rarity, a once-in-thousands-of-years anomaly.
In response to Pansy's questioning, Nait removed the hat on his head, which looked as though it had been sewn together from rags, and gave a slight bow in Draco's direction, as if seeking permission to speak.
"Answer the question."
"Yes. The Master and his friends are waiting for the Young Master and his companions at the manor. However, Nait regrets that he cannot answer any further questions from the Young Master or his honored friends."
"This was my father's order?"
"Yes. The Master specifically instructed Nait to keep his mouth shut, aside from what is strictly necessary."
Draco knew perfectly well that House-elves were the sort who would rather die than disobey their master's commands, so he didn't press the issue further.
It would only be a waste of effort and time.
Still, one thing was now clear.
"I see. So my father intends for Pansy and the others to come back to Malfoy Manor with me?"
"Yes. Please follow Nait, Young Master, along with your friends."
With a few waves of his thin, almost frail-looking hands, the luggage resting at their feet immediately lifted into the air.
The ease of it laid bare the natural magical talent possessed by House-elves.
Seeing Nait bow once more, clearly with no intention of saying anything else, Draco shook his head and gestured for Pansy and the others to follow.
Obviously, no matter how many questions they had right now, they would have to wait until they returned to the manor to get answers from their respective parents.
…
Nait's appearance had been impressive, but no matter how powerful a House-elf's magic was, he still couldn't perform Apparition while bringing along this many people.
After all, casting that spell alone and casting it while carrying others were two completely different matters.
As for the idea of taking one person first, then coming back for the next…
Well, the magical consumption and control required grew exponentially, and the cost was anything but proportional. Even Dumbledore himself wouldn't dare, nor want, to attempt something like that.
Otherwise, Floo powder wouldn't have become such an indispensable invention in the wizarding world.
And so, after yet another all-too-familiar Floo powder journey, followed by a carriage ride pulled by Thestrals, Draco finally arrived at the gates of Malfoy Manor with Pansy, Astoria, and the others.
Strictly speaking, though, this wasn't the Malfoy Manor Draco was familiar with.
In fact, during the carriage ride, Nait had taken out a piece of parchment with an address written on it and handed one to each of them, instructing everyone to memorize it.
That scene, so familiar and yet so strongly evocative of déjà vu, made Pansy and Astoria exchange strange looks.
The Fidelius Charm!
It was such a commonly used method among noble families. How had they not thought of it right away back then…?
In any case.
The journey itself went smoothly. There were no wizard attacks, no unexpected trouble. Draco and the others arrived without incident at Malfoy Manor… or rather, another Malfoy Manor.
…
As the saying went, even a cunning rabbit had three burrows. If even those seemingly harmless little creatures understood that principle, then the Malfoy family, with their many enemies and envy-inducing wealth, certainly would as well.
Especially among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Families with secret inheritances almost always placed their residences under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. Even the Weasley family, which was on the verge of being struck from the list, was no exception.
As for this manor, even Draco himself hadn't known it existed.
And that made sense. A trump card like this should naturally be kept in the hands of the family head.
Before Draco could fully process the fact that his father, known to the world as cold and cunning, had shared such a secret with Pansy and the others, a familiar small figure entered his field of vision.
"Welcome home, Young Master. The master and mistress have prepared dinner and are waiting for the Young Master and his friends to be seated."
"It's been a long time, Dobby. Maybe we can talk later."
"The Young Master wants to talk to Dobby, and Dobby is very happy, because the Young Master once said that friends should help each other. But Dobby is worried whether Dobby can be of any help to the Young Master."
Not only were Dobby's words jumbled, his large eyes also quickly filled with tears.
And all of that was because of what Draco had just said.
"All right, Dobby. It's just a small matter."
Catching the angry look Nait shot toward Dobby, Draco understood just how "outrageous" Dobby's words sounded from a House-elf's perspective.
To keep Dobby from getting reprimanded by Nait afterward, Draco quickly cut off the little elf before he could spiral any further into emotion.
In truth, it wasn't just Nait who reacted strongly. Pansy and the others standing behind Draco, hearing about this for the first time, all looked at him in surprise.
Come to think of it, even Pansy, his childhood friend, had never known about Dobby's existence.
Let alone Astoria or Goyle and Crabbe.
Pansy's expression changed. She nervously tugged at Draco's robe.
"Draco, do you even know what you're saying?!"
"Hm? Is there a problem?"
"...."
After giving Draco a long look at his innocent, completely clueless expression, Pansy, who knew him far too well, let out a helpless sigh and pressed a hand to her forehead.
She had almost forgotten that the troublemaker beside her had never been one to follow the rules…