NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 30: Seeds of Legacy
Lucius Malfoy sat alone in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and the crackling fire. He held the diary in his hand—a small, inconspicuous thing. To the untrained eye, it was a simple keepsake, a relic of youth. But Lucius knew better. Ever since the Dark Lord's fall, he had held it for years, quietly, cautiously. It was more than a piece of history—it was a weapon designed to bring chaos and destruction if used correctly.
And now, he had found the perfect opportunity to wield it.
The Weasleys, Arthur in particular, had always been a thorn in his side, with their insufferable Muggle Protection Act threatening to undermine everything that the pure-blood families stood for. Arthur Weasley—a man so blinded by his pathetic fascination with Muggles he would rather see pure magical blood diluted and tainted than preserve the sanctity of their world. The Ministry had already begun raiding homes, searching for dark artefacts in the name of this absurd law. Lucius scoffed, the very thought filling him with disgust.
Arthur Weasley and his blood-traitor family are a disgrace to our kind, Lucius thought bitterly. How far have we fallen that such people are allowed to hold positions of power?
For centuries, the Malfoys stood above the rest, the epitome of pure-blood nobility. Their lineage was untainted, and their magic strong. It had been that way since the Statute of Secrecy when wizards retreated from the Muggle world to protect their kind. Back then, they understood the importance of preserving magical purity. They understood that mingling with Muggles and their filth could only weaken the magical race.
But now? Wizards were bowing to the will of the weak, led by fools like Dumbledore and blood traitors like Weasley. They spoke of equality and unity between the magical and Muggle worlds, not seeing that this would only lead to the erosion of everything that made them superior. The very essence of what it meant to be a wizard would be lost.
Lucius glanced at the diary again, a wicked smile on his lips. There was power in this object, which had been dormant for over a decade. He had never fully understood its purpose when the Dark Lord entrusted it to him, but he knew enough. Riddle's influence lived within these pages, and once the diary was in the hands of the right person, it would wreak havoc at Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets would open again, and the Dark Lord's will would be felt again.
The timing was perfect. Arthur's meddling with his ridiculous raids gave Lucius the ideal excuse to dispose of this dangerous artefact in a way that would ensure its chaos was felt. Why simply hide the diary when I could turn it into a weapon to destroy those who oppose us?
He could picture it now: Arthur Weasley's own daughter, Ginevra, unknowingly corrupted by the very thing her father fought to protect the world from. The irony was delicious. When the Chamber opened, and children began to fall, who would the Ministry blame? The Weasleys? Dumbledore, perhaps? Either way, it would serve Lucius' purpose.
This will ruin Arthur and discredit his blood-traped family. The Weasleys will be finished.
With the Weasleys disgraced, Lucius would move closer to achieving his goal: removing Dumbledore from power. The old man had long been a thorn in the side of every pure-blood family, constantly pushing for equality with Muggle-borns and Muggles alike. The fool did not understand that purity of blood was the only way to preserve magical power. The dilution of magical families would only weaken the wizarding world, and the likes of Dumbledore were too blind to see it.
The diary was not just an opportunity to eliminate Arthur Weasley and his family—it was a means to strike at Dumbledore himself. Lucius knew that Dumbledore would go to great lengths to protect Hogwarts, but this time, his position of power would be compromised. The chaos that would follow the opening of the Chamber would be enough to destabilize the headmaster's standing at the school. And without Dumbledore in place, Lucius could influence the Ministry and push forward his agenda. With Dumbledore gone, Hogwarts will be under proper control—by those who understand the importance of bloodlines.
Lucius felt a deep satisfaction at the thought. For too long, the wizarding world had been swayed by the weak. Now was the time to remind them of their place. The Malfoy name would once again command respect. With Arthur Weasley's disgrace and Dumbledore's fall, the wizarding world would return to its rightful hierarchy.
But there was more to consider. The pure-blood families had grown complacent over the years, with many accepting half-bloods and even Muggle-borns into their circles. Lucius had never tolerated such weakness, but he knew that many of his peers had compromised in the name of self-preservation. Yet the truth was clear—half-bloods and Muggle-borns were never meant to stand as equals to true wizards. They lacked the dignity, the history, and the power that pure-bloods held.
Blood is everything, Lucius mused. Those who mix with Muggles are no better than Muggles themselves. The dirt of the Muggle world clings to them, and they weaken our kind with their very presence.
He recalled how his father had instilled this belief in him, the lessons of their ancestors passed down through generations. The rise of pure-blood supremacism after the Statute of Secrecy had been born from fear, yes, but also from a clear understanding that mixing with Muggles would lead to the destruction of the wizarding world. And now, Lucius held that truth closer than ever.
With the diary in play, he would remove his enemies and strengthen the foundation of pure-blood supremacy. He would send a message to the world that those who defied the natural order would be punished.
But one last thought tugged at the back of Lucius' mind—Draco. His son would be at Hogwarts when the diary was unleashed. Lucius trusted Draco's cunning and ambition but also knew the danger was real. Hogwarts would become a battlefield, and though Draco was Malfoy through and through, he was still young.
Lucius' hand hesitated over the diary for a moment, but the hesitation was brief. Draco will learn the way all Malfoys do—through power and survival. He will understand that this is the world we fight for, a world where blood purity reigns supreme. He will emerge stronger, or he will not emerge at all. Such is the cost of greatness.
Lucius stood, slipping the diary into the pocket of his robes, his mindset. Tomorrow, at Flourish and Blotts, the Weasleys would be there, as they always were, scraping together what little they had to send their children to Hogwarts. Arthur Weasley, with his idiotic fascination with Muggles, would not even notice as Lucius set the wheels of destruction in motion.
He would pass the diary to Ginevra Weasley, and the rest would take care of itself.
With one final glance around his study, Lucius left the room, his steps confident. The future was clear, and soon, the wizarding world would be reminded of its true rulers—the Malfoys—the purebloods.
Magic is might.
