Malfoy told Dumbledore everything he knew about the circumstances leading up to this moment, holding nothing back.
For him right now, in this vulnerable position, Dumbledore was his only genuine lifeline, his sole protection against a fate worse than death.
If that cursed mark was still embedded in his arm, who knew whether Voldemort might suddenly decide to possess his body tomorrow, or next week, or in the middle of some random night?
At that point, he would have absolutely no ability to resist at all, he would become just a passenger in his own body, screaming silently while someone else controlled his actions.
After carefully sorting through all the information and considering the consequences, Dumbledore warned Malfoy with grave seriousness. "Mr. Malfoy, from this moment forward, you will temporarily remain at Hogwarts under protective custody. Do not leave the school grounds under any circumstances—Hogwarts will guarantee your safety within these walls."
He paused meaningfully, then added with emphasis. "If you absolutely must go out for any reason, Hogsmeade village at the very most, and you must inform a professor beforehand to accompany you. No exceptions. No solo trips. This is not negotiable."
A visible trace of profound relief appeared on Malfoy's pale, haggard face as he nodded slightly, gratefully. "I understand, Headmaster. But..."
He looked uncertainly toward Snape, seeking reassurance from his Head of House.
Snape nodded once, his expression remaining unreadable. "I will personally inform Lucius that you're being kept at school for extended observation due to serious violation of school rules."
His voice remained deliberately cold and professional, maintaining the distance. "You'll need to remain here during the summer holiday as well. I'll make the arrangements."
Only then, with his Head of House's support confirmed, did Malfoy truly feel at ease about his precarious situation.
Of course, he had no intention of letting his father know the true details about this nightmare.
Even though he'd been studying safely at Hogwarts all along this year, he understood that the current situation was extremely complicated and dangerous.
Lucius Malfoy, caught between Voldemort's demands and his family's survival, might barely be able to protect himself now, let alone shield his son from consequences.
He could only desperately hope that his own actions tonight of choosing to remove the Mark, actively rejecting Voldemort's magic on him wouldn't negatively impact his father's already precarious position or bring retribution down on the entire Malfoy family.
When the trio finally returned to the Gryffindor common room after their long night, night had already fallen completely over the castle.
Only a handful of students remained in the warm common room, mostly younger years finishing last-minute homework by the fire.
Colin Creevey was sprawled dejectedly in a large, overstuffed armchair near the dying fire. His eyes were vacant and unfocused as he stared at the ceiling, not seeing the wooden beams.
Clearly, the small boy still hadn't recovered emotionally from the devastating blow of losing his precious, painstakingly repaired crystal sphere.
Even Harry's personal, sincere attempt at consolation earlier with promises and apologies had had frustratingly little effect on lifting his spirits.
It seemed increasingly apparent that in Colin's young heart, the irreplaceable crystal sphere ranked slightly higher in importance than even the great Harry Potter himself.
A truly remarkable and somewhat embarrassing achievement.
Hermione gave Ron a pointed, meaningful look and jerked her head toward Colin that clearly communicated: You need to apologize properly.
But Ron didn't notice her silent communication at all. He remained completely oblivious, probably still mentally absorbed in everything that had just happened with Malfoy and the Dark Mark in Dumbledore's office.
It wasn't until Hermione deliberately stepped down hard on his foot with her heel, making him yelp quietly, and jerked her chin insistently toward the devastated Colin that Ron finally caught on to her intentions.
"Oh. Right."
He strode over to where Colin sat motionless, reached up to scratch awkwardly at his messy red hair and said in a voice that came out somewhat muffled and uncomfortable, "Look, Colin, I'm really sorry I broke your crystal ball. Or, well, Malfoy broke it. But it happened because of me, so..."
Colin continued staring intently at the ceiling as though it held all the answers to life's mysteries, completely unhearing or deliberately ignoring Ron's apologetic words, as though his very soul had been literally extracted from his body and was floating somewhere far away.
Harry sighed heavily with sympathy and walked over to gently touch the boy's thin shoulder. "Colin? Can you hear us?"
Colin jumped violently at the unexpected contact, his entire body jerking as though shocked, finally snapping back to awareness of his surroundings.
"Oh! Harry, it's you," His face brightened immediately.
Ron, standing right there: "...?"
It appeared his entire apology had been completely ignored in favor of Harry's presence.
"I'll replace your crystal ball, I promise," Harry told Colin earnestly, meeting his eyes. "Diagon Alley must sell something similar somewhere—we'll find it over summer holiday. Or I'll commission one specially made."
"Forget it, Harry," Colin said heavily, his voice sounding defeated.
He suddenly pulled his mouth into a smile that looked considerably worse than crying, raising his hand to wipe at his reddened eyes.
"There's nowhere to actually buy that specific thing anymore. I mentioned before—it's an obsolete, damaged interrogation device from the seventies. You'd probably only find working ones in places like the Ministry of Magic's restricted interrogation rooms now. They don't make them anymore."
"I'll find a way somehow," Harry insisted with determination. "Don't worry about it, Colin. I mean it."
Colin nodded weakly, managing a small grateful smile, but his expression still clearly showed doubt that such a rare item could ever be replaced.
All throughout that evening, as the common room gradually emptied around them, Harry and Ron sat huddled together in a corner, speaking in hushed voices as they quietly, obsessively discussed every aspect of Malfoy's situation.
"Just watch and see," Ron promised with absolute, unwavering confidence, his arms crossed. "Even if Malfoy's Dark Mark is gone and I still can't believe that actually worked, he'll definitely be expelled. It's inevitable.
If he doesn't get expelled after being branded by You-Know-Who, I'll personally give Snape a bottle of the most expensive extra-strength shampoo money can buy, plus a complete luxury hair-softening set with conditioner and everything!"
Harry wanted to ask what exactly Snape's eternally greasy hair had done to personally offend Ron so badly.
He couldn't help but briefly imagine their Potions professor with smooth, flowing, luxuriously conditioned locks flowing over his shoulders like some romance novel hero.
Well... actually, better not to think about such utterly chaotic and disturbing things this late at night. The mental image was rather horrifying and would probably give him nightmares.
But when thinking seriously about the very real prospect of Malfoy's imminent expulsion from school, he couldn't quite help the satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Malfoy wasn't a good person by any measure. His character over four years could even be accurately described as thoroughly despicable and cruel.
Tomorrow morning, he wouldn't have to see that detestable fellow's sneering face anymore!
What reason would Hogwarts officially use to expel Malfoy, though?
He pondered.
Joining a terrorist organization? Bearing the Dark Mark? Associating with Death Eaters?
Or perhaps something more specific...
The next morning at breakfast, Harry could hardly believe his own eyes when he saw Malfoy appearing in the Great Hall as usual, sitting calmly at the Slytherin table.
Ron's anticipatory smile stiffened and died on his face as well, his expression shifting to confusion and then indignation.
"Damn it all," he muttered. "Would I really have to actually give Snape those hair care products? I was joking!"
"This is completely impossible!" Ron said in a low, urgent voice, speaking to Harry through gritted teeth while staring at Malfoy. "How can he still be here? Didn't Dumbledore expel him? There's no way—"
Malfoy seemed to sense their intense stares boring into him. He looked up slowly, his gray eyes meeting Harry's green ones across the Hall.
He didn't show any particular emotion or his usual smirk. After a simple, brief glance, he lowered his head and continued mechanically stirring his pumpkin porridge with his spoon, not eating.
This quiet behavior was actually normal, after last night's traumatic events and magical 'torture', Malfoy certainly had no mental energy to pay attention to tormenting others or maintaining his usual antagonistic persona.
However, Harry and Ron weren't about to let Malfoy off so easily or just accept this strange situation.
The two exchanged a look, then strode over determinedly to the Slytherin table together, immediately attracting the attention of a significant portion of the Slytherin students, who looked up with hostile curiosity.
"Need something, Potter?" Malfoy asked without looking up from his untouched breakfast, responding with cold politeness.
"You actually dare to just sit here?" Ron taunted loudly enough for nearby students to hear. "After becoming You-Know-Who's marked lackey? Shouldn't you be in custody?"
The entire Slytherin table fell instantly silent.
"Watch your language, Weasley," Malfoy said, his expression remaining unchanged despite the public accusation. "You're spouting complete nonsense so early in the morning. Haven't had your pumpkin juice yet?"
"Show us your left arm, Malfoy," Ron challenged aggressively, raising his chin and crossing his arms. "Let us check again whether that ugly mark is still actually there or not. Prove you're not lying."
Malfoy curled his lip disdainfully at this crude demand.
Honestly, bearing the Dark Mark might even be considered some kind of honor or badge of courage in the eyes of certain traditional Slytherins and their pureblood ideology.
Of course, now that particular "honor" had completely vanished from Malfoy's perspective, so showing his unmarked arm to others didn't matter much.
But—
Wouldn't complying make him lose face in front of his entire house? Showing weakness to a Gryffindor?
Malfoy slowly set down his silver fork with a soft clink. His lips curled into his characteristic mocking sneer: "Why exactly would I do that? Just because you're an idiot with a death wish? Weasley, is your IQ as desperately scarce as your family's Galleons in Gringotts?"
The Slytherin table erupted immediately in jeering, cruel laughter at this familiar insult.
Crabbe and Goyle beside Malfoy laughed especially loudly and stupidly, slapping the table.
Harry groaned inwardly, knowing Ron was hot-tempered and prideful enough that he would absolutely be unable to contain his rage at a moment like this.
Sure enough, exactly as he predicted—
Ron's face flushed bright red as he furiously lunged forward without thinking, reaching out and grabbing Malfoy's left arm in one swift, aggressive motion.
The movement was so quick and decisive that even Goyle and Crabbe sitting right beside Malfoy didn't react in time to stop it.
Malfoy's expression changed abruptly to alarm as he tried desperately to break free, pulling back. "Let go! You filthy—"
But Ron's strength, fueled by anger, was surprisingly great and his grip iron-tight.
"Let go! You—"
Malfoy's furious words cut off abruptly because Ron had already roughly, hastily rolled up his sleeve to expose the pale skin beneath.
Malfoy's bare arm was revealed to dozens of watching eyes. The pale flesh bore absolutely no trace of the Dark Mark anywhere, only a barely noticeable small scar, like an old burn mark.
Harry shook his head slightly in amazement. It seemed Professor Westeros's mysterious purification potion had indeed worked exactly as promised—the Dark Mark had completely disappeared, as though it had never existed.
Malfoy's face darkened with humiliation as he violently pulled back his exposed arm and yanked his sleeve back down. "Satisfied now, Weasley? Got your show? Or are your eyes in desperate need of repair just like your family's ramshackle excuse for a house?"
Ron's aggressive actions had momentarily provoked collective anger and house loyalty among the Slytherins. Several larger students near Malfoy stood up threateningly from their seats, cracking their knuckles menacingly as they moved closer with hostile intent.
"Problem, Gryffindors?" one sneered.
Seeing this escalating confrontation and the potential for violence, Harry immediately grabbed Ron's arm firmly and pulled him away from the Slytherin table, back toward their own side of the Hall.
"Come on, Ron. We got what we came for. Let's go before this turns into a brawl."
Ron allowed himself to be pulled away, but his face remained flushed with anger and confusion.
"I don't understand," he muttered as they walked. "Why isn't he expelled? How is this fair?"
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