Chapter 11: Reactions and Revelations

Draco's heart raced as he rushed down the hallways of **Malfoy Manor**, Saber's letter clutched tightly in his hand. Hedwig swooped silently beside him, her snowy white wings barely making a sound as they moved through the mansion's dimly lit corridors. He had read the letter several times, each word sinking deeper into his mind, but he knew he had to share this with his parents—and quickly.

His father, Lucius, had insisted they wait for Saber to make contact, but Draco hadn't expected a reply. Now, not only had Saber responded, but he was willing to try to build a relationship, something Draco hadn't dared to hope for. He knew his parents—and especially Snape—would want to hear about this immediately.

As Draco entered the drawing room, he was surprised to find not only **Lucius** and **Narcissa**, but also **Severus Snape** and **Voldemort** seated around the grand fireplace. The Dark Lord's presence sent a chill down Draco's spine, though he kept his face composed. He hadn't expected Voldemort to be here, but there was no turning back now.

Lucius glanced up from his conversation with Voldemort, his cold blue eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity as he saw Draco enter with Hedwig. Narcissa, ever observant, was the first to speak.

"Draco, what is it?" she asked, her tone gentle but curious.

Draco swallowed his nerves and stepped forward, holding out the letter for his parents to see. "Saber—he wrote back."

A tense silence settled over the room as everyone turned their attention to Draco. Even Voldemort's crimson eyes fixed on him with quiet interest, though the Dark Lord said nothing.

Lucius's expression remained unreadable as he reached out to take the letter from Draco's hand. "He wrote back," he repeated, glancing at the envelope with curiosity. "What did he say?"

Draco hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal with Voldemort present. But then he decided—this was family business, and Voldemort had always encouraged transparency between his most loyal followers. He nodded toward the letter. "He's in the United States, at one of his family's estates. He says he's willing to... try to build a relationship. With us."

Narcissa's eyes softened, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "That's good news, Draco. He's open to the idea of family."

Lucius, however, frowned slightly as he read through the letter. "He's far away. It would be difficult to maintain communication from such a distance."

Before Draco could respond, Voldemort's voice broke the silence, soft but with an undercurrent of command. "Read it aloud."

Lucius stiffened slightly at the Dark Lord's request but did not hesitate. Clearing his throat, he unfolded the letter and began to read aloud.

---

#### **Saber's Letter (Read Aloud by Lucius)**

**Draco,**

I'll be honest with you—I didn't expect to hear from you, and I didn't know how to feel when I saw your letter. For years, I thought of you as my rival, as someone who looked down on me. But like you said, things have changed.

The inheritance test has opened my eyes to a lot of things, and I'm still trying to process everything. It's not just about my name, or who I thought I was—it's about realizing how much of my life was controlled by other people. Dumbledore, the Dursleys, even the Potters, all of them kept things from me. And now that I know the truth, I don't know what to do with it all.

But your letter—your reaching out—means something. I never thought I'd see the day where we'd be talking like this, but here we are.

You're right. We're family now. And I think that's worth exploring, even if I'm not sure where to start. I won't pretend that the past didn't happen, but I also don't want it to define the future. If you're serious about getting to know me, then I'm willing to give it a try.

I'm living in the United States now. I've taken up residence at one of my family's estates here, Howler Manor. I needed to get away from everything and start fresh. I don't know when or if I'll return to Britain, but for now, this is where I need to be.

Hedwig will always know how to find me. So if you want to talk more, I'll be here.

**Saber Howler**

---

As Lucius finished reading, silence fell over the room. Draco held his breath, watching the reactions of those around him.

Narcissa was the first to speak, her voice filled with quiet warmth. "It sounds like he's open to the idea of rebuilding. That's more than we could have hoped for."

Lucius, however, looked contemplative, his gaze lingering on the letter in his hands. "He's isolated himself, far from here," he said, his tone thoughtful. "This Howler Manor... it's a deliberate choice. He's trying to separate himself from the world he left behind."

Snape, who had been silent throughout the reading, finally spoke, his voice soft but laced with curiosity. "Saber is not the boy we knew at Hogwarts. This letter shows a level of self-awareness and detachment from his former life. He's starting over."

Voldemort's cold voice cut through the discussion like a knife. "And yet, he still bears the mark of the boy he once was. He speaks of Dumbledore and the Potters with bitterness, but not hatred."

The Dark Lord's crimson eyes gleamed as he spoke, his gaze flicking briefly to Draco. "He does not know where he belongs."

Draco shifted uncomfortably under Voldemort's piercing stare, unsure of what to say. He hadn't expected such a direct analysis of Saber's feelings, but Voldemort was known for his ability to read people.

"I think he's still figuring that out, my Lord," Draco said carefully. "But he's willing to give us a chance. That's something."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair, his long fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Indeed. This presents... an opportunity. Saber is powerful, but he is also vulnerable. His newfound independence makes him unpredictable. We must tread carefully."

Lucius nodded in agreement, folding the letter and placing it on the table. "I believe that rebuilding trust will take time, but the fact that he responded at all is a promising sign."

Narcissa, who had been quiet until now, turned to Voldemort with a question in her eyes. "My Lord, do you believe Saber could be swayed to our side?"

Voldemort's gaze darkened slightly, though his expression remained calm. "Saber is a child of manipulation, born into lies and raised on half-truths. But he is not blind. He will see through Dumbledore's machinations, as you all have. When he does, he will come to us willingly—or he will fall."

A heavy silence followed Voldemort's words, the weight of the Dark Lord's expectations settling over the room like a dark cloud. Draco swallowed hard, knowing the pressure now placed on his shoulders. He had initiated this contact with Saber, but the responsibility of how it would unfold rested squarely on him.

Snape, ever the pragmatist, shifted his attention back to Draco. "You must be cautious in your next letter, Draco. Saber is extending a hand, but it is tentative. He will be testing your sincerity."

Draco nodded, absorbing Snape's advice. "I understand, Professor. I won't rush this."

Voldemort's eyes lingered on Draco for a moment longer before turning back to Lucius. "Keep me informed of any further correspondence. We cannot allow Dumbledore to regain control over him."

Lucius inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, my Lord. We will proceed with caution."

With a final glance at the letter, Voldemort stood, his presence commanding as ever. "Do not disappoint me."

Without another word, the Dark Lord swept from the room, leaving the Malfoys and Snape in a tense silence. The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air, but there was also a glimmer of hope. Saber had reached out, and that meant there was a chance—however small—that they could bring him into the fold.

Draco glanced down at Hedwig, who sat patiently by the window, her eyes gleaming with quiet intelligence. He gently stroked her feathers, feeling a strange sense of connection to the owl that had once been a symbol of his rivalry with Harry Potter. Now, she carried the bridge between him and Saber—a bridge that he hoped wouldn't crumble under the weight of their past.