I began my story from the very beginning.
"…At some point, Mr. Vance, the Head Boy, entered the hall. He interrupted the session and informed me that Professor McGonagall had given an order to escort me to the Headmaster."
"Nonsense!" the Deputy Headmistress exclaimed.
"I must disappoint you, Minerva. That is precisely what happened," Flitwick confirmed. "Mr. Vance was behaving… very insistently. Mr. Malfoy had to interrupt his session again in the middle of the Dueling Club meeting. I was very displeased with your Head Boy's tactlessness."
McGonagall frowned and said, surprised:
"I did not give Mr. Vance such an assignment."
"That is why his behavior raised suspicions… something was clearly off with him," Flitwick nodded. "Apparently, he was nervous. But Mr. Malfoy decided to go, so as not to cause any problems."
I smirked inwardly. Professor Flitwick, without knowing it, was playing right into my hands, confirming every word I said. An ideal witness.
"Only, once we left the classroom, I insisted on going to the Headmaster's tower, i.e., here, on my own. However, the Head Boy told me that you, Professor McGonagall, were waiting for me in your office. Sensing something amiss, I said I could go myself, but Vance insisted. A little later, we took a different route because he didn't want to wait for the staircase. He said it would be faster. I certainly tried to take the usual way, but due to the moving staircases and his authority as Head Boy… I followed him."
I paused, showing fatigue. Everyone listened attentively to my monologue, trying to catch all the nuances. I, in turn, tried to keep a straight face and tell the story exactly as a person who hadn't orchestrated the situation would.
It seemed everyone had even forgotten what I had done, as my story was overshadowing this incident, but… it only seemed that way.
"We turned into an empty corridor. There… from around the corners, four Gryffindors came out. Farmus, Higgs, and two others. The Head Boy simply walked past them, not even glancing at me. They had apparently conspired with him. Afterwards, the Gryffindors surrounded me, started threatening me, talking all sorts of absurdities about how I was guilty of something. I tried to reach a peaceful resolution, but they wouldn't listen. Instead, they attacked me."
"That cannot be!" McGonagall said, stunned, clearly not expecting such behavior from her Gryffindors.
"But it happened, Professor."
McGonagall flinched but remained silent. I could see the struggle in her mind between her belief in her "lions" and the prefect she herself had appointed, against the obvious facts.
Finally, she managed to formulate a response.
"Albus, I would like us to hear the other side. In that case, Mr. Vance should also testify! And if that's how it happened, then Mr. Malfoy's actions could be viewed more leniently."
Dumbledore slowly nodded.
"A reasonable suggestion, Minerva."
The next second, McGonagall raised her wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A light wave of her wand — and a silvery cat, bursting from her wand, gracefully circled and paused, waiting.
"Mr. Vance," McGonagall addressed her Patronus, "come to the Headmaster's office immediately. A matter of extreme importance!"
The cat gracefully turned and disappeared, carrying the message.
At this point, Professor Flitwick decided to remind everyone that my story wasn't finished.
"Continue, Mr. Malfoy."
"Umm…"
Seeing my hesitation, Snape decided to ask the main question on everyone's mind. He presented his version of events in exactly the tone and words I needed to simply repeat verbatim.
"I assume what happened next was this: sensing a threat to your life, purely in self-defense, you used an explosive spell. Not just to gain the upper hand over your attackers, but to protect your own life. Is that not so, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked very assertively, simultaneously trying to shield me from any misinterpretation of the story. In short, trying to minimize my guilt. It was nice that he was defending me even in this situation. I… I would remember this.
However, I needed to achieve a different goal, so Snape's attempt to resolve everything with minimal damage was actually harmful.
I pretended to hesitate at this question. This was the key moment, so I needed to play my role perfectly.
"I… I don't remember, Professor."
"So, did you use an explosive spell? Or was it someone else?" Dumbledore asked, becoming wary and showing greater interest.
"Most likely…"
"Mr. Malfoy! How can you not know what you did and what you didn't do?" burst out of Dumbledore, menacingly. "Maybe someone else used the spell? Come now, tell us."
"It's just…"
"You must understand that I am the Headmaster and am obliged to take measures."
"It's just… I don't remember part of the fight."
"You don't remember?" McGonagall repeated with an expression as if I had confessed to murder. "What do you mean… you don't remember!?"
"I remember that they attacked. I remember that I despaired and thought I would lose. And then… a blank. The next memory is already sitting by the wall. And all that noise and all that blood… It's very difficult for me right now."
"This is incredible!" McGonagall exclaimed. "What a ridiculous attempt to evade responsibility! Mr. Malfoy, for some reason I am sure that you remember everything, you just don't want to tell us!"
"Minerva," Snape interjected, steel notes sounding in his voice. "Allow Mr. Malfoy to finish before passing judgment. And you, Mr. Malfoy, I advise you to think before saying anything."
"Severus, stop defending a student from your house. This is absurd! Mr. Malfoy is clearly hiding something!" McGonagall cried out, still not ready to accept reality. "You or your accomplices maimed four Gryffindors, three of whom are now in extremely bad condition and will be recovering in Mungo's for a long time! Do you even understand what you've done!?"
I had never seen McGonagall lose her temper with a student like this before, and it seemed I had managed to provoke her.
"Minerva," Snape interjected, stepping forward. "Allow me to point out an interesting detail. Jacob Farmus, now a sixth-year, who sustained extensive injuries, has repeatedly broken school rules and started fights. And he is not the only one among the injured with a similar track record. So I suggest we listen to what is probably the victim."
McGonagall twitched, about to say something else, but I decided to answer her previous outburst.
"I am not pathetic enough to stage an attack… with a group. But they… I cannot say the same about them. I did everything alone, Professor McGonagall. Of that I am sure."
I said these words calmly, even with a hint of pride, looking her straight in the eye. Everyone was stunned by this response, as it's not what you expect from someone guilty.
"How can you speak so calmly about this…" McGonagall said disbelievingly. "You… you, Mr. Malfoy, will be punished in any case! Even if you were defending yourself… you don't even regret what you did…"
Dumbledore also abruptly switched to condemnation. His voice became hoarse, and with every word he tried to show how disappointed he was in me. And he had spent a whole week having personal, confidential conversations with me every day in a gentle tone.
I think he was trying to create a seesaw effect.
"You shouldn't judge Mr. Malfoy so harshly," Snape began to defend me. "I doubt he is aware of his words right now. He is emotional, and is merely trying to cover for whoever actually maimed those three Gryffindors. He is a third-year and couldn't have…"
"Four," McGonagall corrected. "Perhaps you are right, Severus. But in any case, this speaks extremely poorly of the personal qualities valued in Slytherin house. And that is your responsibility."
Even Flitwick interjected. The tiny professor stepped forward, and his usually thin and squeaky voice sounded unexpectedly firm at that moment:
"I can confirm not only the story about the Head Boy, but also that an explosive spell is well within Mr. Malfoy's capabilities. He is one of the most talented duelists I have taught in recent years. Despite his young age, he is a skilled enough wizard to outsmart his attackers and withstand a surprise attack. So you are not entirely right, Severus."
Flitwick paused and added, looking at Dumbledore:
"I think he would not have needed help from others, so, as cruel as it may sound, all of this is most likely the work of Mr. Malfoy. Which is even admirable in a way. Real talent! It's just a pity that this talent was used in such a way today. But we are considering Mr. Malfoy's position. Which means we must either refute or prove that he was attacked… a sudden attack. Isn't that so?"
I smiled slightly at such praise, but someone else felt the opposite.
McGonagall frowned.
"I repeat, I sent no one," she repeated, sounding surprised. "And your admiration, Filius, speaks poorly of your Dueling Club's influence on the students' minds."
McGonagall was taking jabs at everyone today. I wondered if she always communicated with her colleagues so harshly? Apparently, she just hadn't expected Flitwick to take my side, rather than the side of the Ravenclaw, Vance. So she was trying to shut Flitwick up by any means necessary, even though Flitwick was held in very high regard by all the Hogwarts professors, and he was also one of the most beloved teachers among the students. If not the most beloved.
So she decided to remind everyone that the idea of closing the Dueling Club had been floated many times. At least, such rumors circulated around the school every year. And my future knowledge suggested that this could very well be true. However, a great deal did not match that fictional story, for it was precisely that — a story, not reality — so I doubted they would close the Dueling Club. I didn't believe it!
Finally, by this time, Dumbledore decided to respond to my earlier statement, which I still didn't regret uttering. It had had a good effect.
"Mr. Malfoy, you should be ashamed of that, not proud of it. I did not expect such cruelty from you." He even shook his head disappointedly. "You showed yourself to be a much better young wizard. Doesn't your conscience bother you?"
You old spider… decided to show what a bright wizard he was. Throughout the entire dialogue while I was telling the story, I kept noticing his pretense.
Dumbledore was very deftly trying to manipulate me, showing that his attitude towards me changed literally after every word, but something told me he wasn't so fickle in character. This was nothing more than a game.
Not long ago, he had looked at me as just a delinquent student. Now — as a worse criminal than those in Azkaban. Fine, I'll play along with this game. It was time to switch to personal communication.
"And all of you? Professors? Headmaster? Doesn't your conscience bother you for putting so much pressure on me… I was merely afraid for my life when I was attacked by four upper-year Gryffindors. I didn't think that was a crime."
Everyone was momentarily taken aback, shaking off their emotions. Even McGonagall's face softened a little, while the Headmaster, narrowing his eyes, began scrutinizing me and my behavior even more intently.
"Mr. Malfoy…" Flitwick started to say, but Dumbledore cut him off.
"I was inclined to believe you, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore began tiredly and cautiously, "but, I'm afraid, I will have to make a difficult decision in any case."
I snorted at these words, nodding to the Headmaster. Oh yes. How I dreamed of showing at least a fraction of my true attitude towards him. Fortunately, the reason wasn't fabricated. Just a few minutes ago, he was pressuring me. Now he was trying to show that he was actually good, it was just the circumstances. It seemed my plan was working.
"In any case, these are just words for now," McGonagall said, much calmer now and even seeming to feel some guilt. "The words of one student against… against what we saw. Mr. Malfoy, you just have to understand how serious your accusations are. You claim that the Head Boy led you into a trap set by Gryffindors! And you also claim not to remember the last part of this brutal massacre! You must understand why we are so indignant?"
"I understand you, Professor McGonagall. I just wanted to say…" I raised my eyes and looked directly at Dumbledore, putting as much sincerity into my gaze as possible. "That it is a family secret. I cannot tell everyone the reason for this oblivion, but if you allow it, I will explain everything to the Headmaster. Alone. It's… personal, and I would prefer not to divulge it. I apologize, Professors."
The last part, of course, was addressed to Flitwick and Snape.
A secret. What a good word. It arouses curiosity, makes me human in their eyes, and provides a reason.
Dumbledore looked at me for a long time… a very long time. His eyes bored into me — but I tried not to react. I knew he wouldn't see anything I didn't want him to see. How good it was to be completely safe, at least in this regard.
"I see," he finally said. "Minerva, Severus, Filius, leave us. While we wait for Mr. Vance, I will hear Mr. Malfoy's reason."
McGonagall would have liked to hear it too, but under Dumbledore's gaze, she gave in. The professors left, leaving me alone with the Headmaster.
The door closed, and I had a feeling of déjà vu… well, let's see how things would go this time.
"So, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore offered me a seat opposite him. "I'm listening."
I took a deep breath. Apparently, my role would never end, but the die had been cast… well, almost cast…
POV. Edrian Vance
"Why did you decide to recount all our failures? How many times can we talk about this? We couldn't get through to Malfoy with any of this, so perhaps I've had enough," Vance said tiredly. "I need to focus on my exams."
For what felt like the umpteenth time, the Slytherin was speaking in general terms, with some inaccuracies in the details of the stories, about each of their failed attempts to put the wealthy Malfoy in his place.
It would seem one shouldn't forget one's place, but in a school environment, when you are older, you have more authority and you try to pressure those who are younger but consider themselves superior. This worked everywhere, a bit less so in Slytherin, but apparently, Crone had snapped and decided to pour his soul out to Edrian.
"What about Farmus and Higgs?" Crone suddenly asked. "Did you tell them you were thinking of stopping your attempts to get back at Malfoy?"
Vance flinched. This was too much.
"What gave you that idea?" he interrupted sharply. "I haven't met with anyone or discussed this. And besides, Crone, do you hear yourself? You're talking nonsense! You've been rehashing our ideas for ages, most of which I came up with."
Crone blinked. He looked genuinely confused.
"I… yes, I suppose," he muttered. "Sorry, Vance. I haven't slept for two days straight. At all. As soon as I close my eyes, the nightmares start. Horrible ones, you know… realistic. Maybe he put a curse on us? Huh? What do you think? Hah."
The boy laughed nervously. In fact, he had been behaving like this the whole conversation. As if… as if he had been replaced…
"Nothing funny about it," Vance replied dryly. He didn't find it amusing at all. On the contrary, a chill ran down his spine at these words.
"Come on," Crone waved his hand. "I'm just joking. Although… you know, after all this talk about their Council, about his dark dealings… maybe there really is something to it? You yourself said that Malfoy is dangerous and that he's not just gathering these… these…"
He paused, searching for a word.
"Loyal idiots," Vance supplied without a trace of a smile.
"Yeah," Crone nodded. "Exactly. So, you shouldn't leave the coalition. It's unlikely any of us would appreciate such an act, especially considering it's you who kept us together with Farmus and Higgs. One common goal — to get back at Malfoy — wouldn't have stopped us from falling out with the Gryffindors, but you held us together. So, I don't think you can just walk away."
Vance shook his head. This conversation was starting to tire him.
"Crone, if he had put a curse on you, Pomfrey would have noticed. She checks everyone who ends up in the hospital wing. And whether I leave or not is for me to decide."
"I wasn't there," Crone suddenly said. "I didn't go to the hospital wing. So what if I have nightmares? It happens to everyone. And as for our common goal…"
Crone was about to continue, but at that moment, the corridor was filled with a silvery light.
From around the corner, a cat, glowing and woven from pure silver, slipped out. Vance recognized it instantly — it was Professor McGonagall's Patronus.
The cat slowly approached, raised its head, and spoke in the Deputy Headmistress's voice:
"Mr. Vance, come to the Headmaster's office immediately. A matter of extreme importance!"
Then the silvery figure dissolved into the air, leaving behind only a faint glow of light magic.
Vance was surprised; he didn't even know what had happened. Dozens of possibilities raced through his mind — from a randomly noticed violation to… to Malfoy digging a hole for himself by staging an attack on himself using Vance as a pawn.
"I see," Crone raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Straight to the Headmaster? What for?"
Vance glanced at him. Crone looked genuinely surprised — and that was very strange. A Slytherin should have been wary, started asking questions. In general, Crone was usually not this jokey. Now he just stood and watched with something like childish curiosity.
"I have no idea," Vance replied dryly. "Maybe about the prefects' reports."
"On a Saturday?" Crone doubted. "Unlikely."
He was silent for a moment, then suddenly said:
"I'd better go, check on Rookwood. He's completely falling apart… I told you…"
"Go," Vance nodded, already mentally charting a course to the Headmaster's tower.
Crone took a step, but stopped and turned around.
"By the way, Vance. I've been thinking about those nightmares. You know what the strangest part is?"
"What?" Vance asked without much interest.
"Malfoy is always in them. He just smiles while… while everything around burns."
Vance was surprised by such revelations. Why was Crone telling him about something so personal? Vance didn't understand.
"Just nightmares, Crone," Vance replied firmly. "Go check on Rookwood. And get some sleep, you've been getting confused a lot today."
"Yeah, but it seems to me that if you stay with us and we finish off Malfoy for good, the nightmares will go away. I hope Farmus and Higgs succeed today," Crone said finally, and, turning, quickly walked down the corridor.
Vance watched him go, and only one thought spun in his head:
"He knows! How!?"
Vance shook his head, driving away the delusional thoughts, and hurried towards the Headmaster's tower. But his anxiety only grew with each step. His thoughts kept pointing out that Crone had figured it all out, or else nonsense crept in about Crone being controlled, or Farmus telling him. In short, it was time for the Head Boy to calm down; after all, he wasn't a frequent visitor to the Headmaster's office. But the anxiety refused to go anywhere.