Even though Lucius had read every detail in Brian's letters and knew Belling Manor would be "slightly different" from other pure-blood estates, his pale eyes still widened for a split second when he saw who had come to deliver Estelle.
Not house-elves.
Two living legends from the oldest scrolls in the Malfoy library stood before him.
Pegasus—the sky stallion of Merlin's own era, said to foresee both fortune and disaster—and a misty-blue cat the size of a small pony, clearly a creature so ancient it had no name left in any modern bestiary.
The depth of the Belling family's heritage ran far deeper than Lucius had ever imagined. He had always assumed their quiet, unbroken wealth came from shrewd investments across the centuries. Now he understood it was something far older… and far more powerful.
Before he could finish the thought, a flash of silver-red caught his eye.
The tiny Belling heir took three hesitant steps forward, arms lifting toward him, those mist-blue eyes fixed on his face with heartbreaking hope. A single tear still trembled at the corner of one eye, threatening to fall.
Lucius drew a slow, steady breath. His aristocratic brow arched just slightly.
Then, without a word, he lifted his hand from the silver snake-headed cane, bent down, and scooped the little girl into his arms as if she weighed nothing.
If anyone ignored the rigid set of his shoulders, they might have believed the Malfoy patriarch was perfectly composed.
"Godfather," Estelle whispered. Her eyes, still luminous from crying, sparkled like morning dew.
She was so small nestled against him, breathing in the cool cedarwood scent of his robes. Lucius's lips pressed into a thin line.
"Lucius Malfoy," he said quietly, glancing down at her. "From now on, you may call me exactly as you just did."
Estelle thought the way he spoke sounded a little formal, but she liked it. Only later, after weeks at Malfoy Manor, would she learn it was the old pure-blood way of establishing place and respect.
For now, the little girl who had expected a stern stranger realised her new godfather might not be so frightening after all. She shyly pressed her soft cheek to his cool one.
Mammon, watching from the grass, noticed the faint twitch of Lucius's fingers on the cane.
Hmm. I thought it would take Estelle weeks to warm up to him.
Their first meeting was going far better than expected.
Tsk. No one can resist those big, dewy eyes.
Proudly, Mammon lifted his fluffy head. A swirl of misty-blue smoke wrapped around him, and in the blink of an eye he shrank to the size of an ordinary cat. He padded gracefully to Lucius's side, tail curling with quiet satisfaction.
Estelle, finally realising she really was leaving home, lifted her head from Lucius's shoulder and looked back at Pegasus, who had stayed behind the barrier. Unlike Mammon, the stallion would remain at Belling Manor to guard it.
She pouted, one small hand clutching the elegant wand Pegasus had given her, the other waving a reluctant goodbye.
True to their rule of never speaking human tongues in front of outsiders, Pegasus simply dipped his noble head in farewell. His dark, liquid eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Even knowing she could return anytime she wished, the ache in his ancient heart was real.
"Let's go," Lucius murmured.
He tapped the snake-headed cane once against the ground.
"Malfoy."
The world twisted, colours and shapes blurring around them. Before Estelle could even gasp, Lucius's boots touched down on soft grass.
Rolling green lawns stretched in every direction, perfectly manicured and bordered by flower beds so precise they looked like living tapestries. In the distance, ancient towers and spires reached for the sky, solemn and magnificent.
Malfoy Manor.
Lucius set her gently on her feet but kept one hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they walked. Mammon trotted alongside, ears perked with open curiosity; the cat hadn't left Belling Manor in years.
The two great pure-blood houses were similar in grandeur, yet different in spirit. Where Belling Manor felt warm and slightly lived-in, everything here gleamed with exquisite, almost intimidating luxury.
Lucius deliberately slowed his pace. The short distance to the front doors took a leisurely ten minutes on foot.
"Do you like it here?" he asked, voice carefully neutral.
Estelle looked up, the sadness of leaving home already softening beneath fresh wonder. "Yes," she answered, the corners of her mouth curving into a tiny smile.
Mammon swished his fluffy tail and gave an approving little "meow."
Lucius's thin lips tilted upward—just a fraction—and he continued forward without another word.
They hadn't even reached the grand entrance when Estelle spotted them: a beautiful woman with sleek blonde hair and, beside her, a small platinum-blond boy.
"The Belling family?" six-year-old Draco was saying, eyes wide. His hair still fell naturally across his forehead; he hadn't yet discovered hair potions. "Father is godfather to the Belling heir? Since when?"
Narcissa smiled patiently and ruffled his hair. "Yes, darling. She's a year younger than you—a lovely little girl. She'll be living with us from now on."
"Living?" Draco's voice shot up an octave. "Merlin's socks! She's staying here? Permanently?"
Narcissa chuckled softly. "Yes. Look—they're here."
The moment the tiny figure in the silver-red dress stepped into view behind Lucius, Narcissa's heart melted. "The Belling family's famous beauty really is something else…" she murmured.
Draco, who had been sulking at the idea of sharing his parents' attention, followed his mother's gaze.
And forgot how to breathe.
All he would ever remember of that day was a silver-red dress, a pair of mist-blue eyes smiling straight at him, and the softest voice saying:
"Brother."
Fireworks went off inside Draco's head. He didn't notice he was walking toward her with the same foot and hand in perfect, ridiculous sync. Whatever Estelle, Lucius, or his mother said after that moment, he never heard a single word.