[53] The Prewett Name

Prewett.

This name might be unfamiliar, but it belonged to a pure-blood family in the wizarding world. It was Molly's maiden name.

Molly Prewett.

Hall visited Malfoy Manor because he admired the Malfoy family's vast collection of ancient books. His pretext was tutoring.

"What!? Hall is going to tutor me!?" Draco's face fell. He knew his father wasn't satisfied with his A- grades. But he didn't know his father was this dissatisfied — he'd actually invited a Weasley! Just because Hall was one of only two students this year to get an A+. The other was Hermione Granger.

An A- was hard-earned! Professor Snape's exam questions this year were incredibly difficult — only ten students in the entire year managed even an A on the Potions exam. Draco was one of them.

He sprawled on his sofa, looking utterly dejected. He must have just gotten up — his hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and he was wearing comfortable silver-green loungewear, carrying a bag of snacks. Very un-Malfoyish.

"Draco, where's your hospitality?" Lucius Malfoy, in a suit, gave a curt reprimand, then turned to Hall with a polished smile. "Mr. Weasley, the study is upstairs."

"Dad!" Draco protested. "Am I starting tutoring now?"

"No. I have something to discuss with Mr. Weasley. Your tutoring starts next week, twice a week."

"Yay!" Draco jumped up. "I can play for another week!"

He was going to take his broom and find Blaise to play Quidditch.

Lucius Malfoy shook his head, but his eyes were full of affection as he watched Draco run off. Hall was seeing Draco so lively for the first time — home made him relaxed. Since home was such a happy place, Draco probably wouldn't mind if Hall gave him more homework.

Hall followed Lucius to the study. He hadn't talked much with the elder Malfoy apart from Board of Governors business, so he was curious why Lucius had approached him now. But if Lucius had offered himself up, it would be unreasonable not to take advantage. Hall only wanted to make money.

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Lucius sat in a large armchair and gestured for Hall to sit opposite. He waved for a house-elf to bring tea and snacks. The elf's eyes were bright and darting, sizing up Hall.

Hall knew who he was — Dobby, an outsider among house-elves, a rebel. The little elf lingered after serving, leaving only after being scolded. Before leaving, his gaze towards Hall was full of doubt and wariness.

Hall ignored him. He sipped his black tea and ate the biscuits.

The standoff lasted nearly fifteen minutes. Finally, Lucius cracked. He'd intended to probe Hall's intentions but hadn't expected the boy to be so patient. The Weasley family had produced someone extraordinary.

"Young Mr. Weasley," Lucius began. "The potions you've made have been very successful. All of them."

"Their success is also thanks to your help," Hall replied formally.

"I'd like to ask if you'd be interested in doing some other business together." Lucius was unusually direct. The person in front of him was an eleven-year-old boy, barely reaching his chest. Even the most pretentious Lucius Malfoy felt something was off about using such formal language.

"What kind of business?" Hall asked with an innocent expression.

Lucius pushed a map across the table. Hall took it. His expression faltered. It was a world map, marking not only the magical world but also the Muggle world.

"What — what do you mean?" Wasn't the Malfoy family the most disdainful of Muggles?

Hall's expression made his thoughts clear.

"While I dislike Muggles, I certainly adore their money." A faint smile crossed Lucius's face. "The wizarding world has always had some small business dealings in the Muggle world."

Hall understood — they were profiteering. Malfoy ran a pharmaceutical company in the Muggle world. He pushed a brochure towards Hall, then a contract.

Hall glanced at it. The profit share was slightly less than the one offered by the Board of Governors — only forty percent. But Hall knew this was the highest price Lucius could offer. Board money mostly went to school reserves. This would belong entirely to the Malfoy family.

"May I ask what kind of potion you'd like?" Hall asked, intrigued. If it was a regular potion, any apothecary could make it. And given Lucius's relationship with Professor Snape, why approach an eleven-year-old?

Hall knew that even if these people knew he was capable, most would try to cheat him. A child carrying treasure through a marketplace — who wouldn't try to steal it? Lucius approaching him meant he must have his eye on something only Hall could produce.

"You want the Squib formula."

Hall's eyes turned icy. His wand extended from his sleeve. Coveting the formula was like cutting off his livelihood.

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