The funny thing was how it all turned out… really funny. When the parents of the injured Gryffindors arrived, they burst in like a hurricane, demanding justice, compensation, and punishment for the guilty party. Of course, after learning where their children were, they went to Pomfrey, who, along with two healers from Mungo's, was preparing the three maimed boys for transport. What they saw in the hospital wing only added fuel to the fire.
But while they were over there, coordinating everything and worrying about their children, they returned even angrier, thirsting for blood and compensation, only to come face to face with my parents.
The process of transferring to Mungo's was complicated, so I had time to speak with my parents, as did Snape, who explained the whole situation to my father. If not for him, my father would have been much angrier at me.
They talked to me separately as well, while the professors and the Gryffindor parents were hashing things out in the corridor, generally sorting out where, how, and why.
We stepped aside, away from prying ears. My mother took my hand, and I felt her fingers trembling. She was either scared for me or just angry at everything around her, though she tried not to show it. In short, she behaved with dignity.
"Talk," my father said curtly. "No embellishments."
So I told him everything. Except for what couldn't be told. Namely, that I had orchestrated all of this precisely for this circus. To say my father was displeased from the start would be an understatement, but he was more displeased with the school and the attackers, whose parents he was already mentally grinding in the gears of bureaucracy.
My mother was just worried whether I was alright, but she was still behaving normally… until the meeting with the parents of the injured.
Before that, she kept asking me how I was feeling.
"Son, are you sure you weren't hurt?"
"I'm fine, Mother," I replied more softly than usual. "Honestly."
I recall that what angered my father most in that conversation was my saying I had shown my memories in the Pensieve.
"You showed your memories!?" he asked in an icy tone. "Without waiting for us? Do you realize that it's illegal to force a minor to show memories in a Pensieve? You didn't have to show them! Though, few people your age are even capable of showing memories in a Pensieve. That was reckless!"
"I understand, Father," I replied calmly. "But I had no choice. Either I show the memories and prove that I'm the victim, or it's the other way around."
My mother supported me in this, convincing my father.
"Lucius, he's right. This is no time for reproaches! We need to decide what to do next with the parents of those… degenerates!"
"Next?" Lucius smirked. "Next, I will make those upstarts regret ever daring to raise their voices against a Malfoy! I pay for their children to study, and yet they dare to open their mouths like that when it's their own children who are at fault."
That was roughly the conversation we had before my parents finally confronted the Gryffindors' parents. And so began that endless, noisy cycle of accusations, where the same words were repeated over and over. At first, it was amusing, of course. Especially when, upon seeing my father — who, mind you, is the wealthiest man in the country and a Lord of the Wizengamot — they all froze for a moment, remembering that I wasn't just a white-haired boy, but also the heir to the Malfoy family, something they had forgotten in the heat of the moment. But soon, anger got the better of caution. Mainly due to Dumbledore's presence, which emboldened them.
But they didn't cross the line either, because it's one thing to be angry at the Malfoys somewhere where only Hogwarts professors are around, and quite another to be sitting across from one of the most influential people in Magical Britain, even in Dumbledore's presence.
Those gathered here were not the least among wizards, so there was plenty of pride. As it happened, the parents of all the injured were either pureblood or even noble. The Higgs family, for example, were not insignificant people in Magical Britain.
So, speeches like this were heard with enviable regularity:
"Your son maimed mine! I demand compensation! I demand punishment!"
To this accusation-demand, which differed from time to time only in the order of the words, my father responded accordingly:
"Compensation?" He raised an eyebrow as if he'd been offered a worm to eat. "You want compensation? Fine. I want compensation too! For the fact that four upper-years attacked my thirteen-year-old son. For the fact that they tried to kill him. For the fact that now he has to live with the memories of it!"
To which the equally clichéd counterargument always came.
"Your son isn't hurt!" squealed Higgs's mother on this particular occasion.
But then, finally, things went beyond the previous two attempts to demand something outside of court, and my mother, unable to bear it, answered.
"Because he turned out to be stronger!" she snapped. "And more talented. If not for that, believe me, we wouldn't be speaking so softly. And don't raise your voice, Mrs. Higgs; it looks overly affected, even in this situation."
I wonder how much effort it took her to limit herself to such a mild response. I suspect that if someone else had been there, she would have lunged at her to tear all her hair out.
"But they're in the hospital! At Mungo's, in critical condition! Have you seen what he did to my son!" the woman persisted.
"And my son is here, safe and sound. And do you know why? Because he defended himself. If you want to blame someone, blame your children, who thought they could attack him with impunity."
The Gryffindors' parents opened and closed their mouths, speechless. Then Lucius decided to take the floor back and bore down on them.
"I am not just a member of the Board of Governors! I can ensure that your children are not just expelled, but sent to Azkaban for attempted murder. The only reason I am not treating you so harshly is that they suffered so critically themselves. Appreciate that fact."
Finally, the most important person at the school, Dumbledore, intervened in the argument. His voice sounded soft but very authoritative:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to calm down and be reasonable. Threats will lead nowhere. Let's sort this out calmly."
Feeling the support, the Gryffindors' parents grew bolder again:
"The Headmaster is right! Your son is a real monster! He clearly doesn't belong in a school!"
Of course, they interpreted Dumbledore's words in an interesting way… which is probably why the latter raised his hand, silencing the noise they were making.
"I understand your emotions, but let me remind you: your children attacked a thirteen-year-old boy. Four of them! If he had not defended himself, we would now be discussing which of your children is more to blame."
"With all due respect, Albus, that's not something we can assert!" McGonagall interjected, having stood quietly until then, clearly hesitant to get involved. "We don't know exactly what would have happened without that explosion. Mr. Malfoy's memories could have been…"
"Minerva," Snape cut her off, stepping forward. "Even setting aside the memories, the facts remain facts. Three… four upper-years attacked a third-year. Mr. Malfoy had no choice — either defend himself, or be hurt. The fact that he doesn't have a scratch on him speaks either to incredible luck or to skill. I lean towards both."
"I have to agree with Severus," Flitwick unexpectedly supported me. "I taught Mr. Malfoy. He is one of the most talented duelists I have ever seen. In a critical situation, he was able to apply everything he had learned. And I believe that is not a crime, but a survival instinct. I regret what happened to your children, but I cannot condemn Mr. Malfoy."
McGonagall pursed her lips but remained silent. The Gryffindors' parents looked at each other in confusion. Their desire to argue had greatly diminished when everyone around started refuting their arguments.
But that's exactly what made it a cycle: a couple of minutes later, someone would start this pointless train of dialogue again, slightly differently, and everything would go around this tedious circle again. So stupid!
The arguments started again. Noise, uproar, shouting, threats. My father pressed on, promising lawsuits and expulsion; the Gryffindors' parents alternately exploded and wilted under his pressure. Dumbledore periodically interjected, trying to calm the passions, but to no avail.
After a few hours of this circus, the Gryffindors' parents finally gave up. Or rather, it was decided to take a break. They left to visit their sons at Mungo's, promising to return and continue the proceedings. My father watched them go with a contemptuous look and reminded them at the end that their children were studying here because he and his good friends were School Governors and funded Hogwarts. What's more, he even reminded them that they too had once studied thanks in part to the Malfoys.
In short, he shoved it in their faces that they had always been dependent on our money and that it wasn't for them to demand compensation from us, but quite the opposite.
After that, there was time to talk properly with my parents, and that's when I experienced the worst part of my plan. Namely, my father's displeasure, and my mother's too. They were silent, looking at me very unequivocally.
I knew that no matter how angry they were at me for damaging my reputation, they would still stand behind me like a rock, and in essence, they understood that someone had actually wanted to hurt me, which, regardless of the context, made me right, even if I had killed those Gryffindors.
But still, I decided to smooth things over a bit and show that, yes, I had created the situation, but I was not only innocent and came out of it without injury, but I also came up with a clean way out of the situation. I also needed to intrigue my father by telling him I had important information that would help him.
So that's what I did, beginning to gradually tell them how these individuals had been trying to harm me, directly or indirectly, for a long time. I also told them that they had friends who didn't like me either. I was leading up to a certain point, but my father came to a different conclusion.
"I am a member of the Board of Governors. If Dumbledore can't handle security at the school, then it's time to remind him that the Board of Governors can suspend him from his duties as Headmaster. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again, but you need to be a little more reasonable. I've heard you've been stepping out of line too often lately, and I'm not happy about it."
But my father didn't stop there and continued his monologue about what a true Slytherin is and how he should do everything. You see, everything must be done under the table, so no one suspects a thing, not like me. I wanted to remind him of his own "hidden" activities during his time as a Death Eater, but I didn't have enough information, and this wasn't the right situation.
In short, he reminisced about his youth, my mother also added a couple of instructive tips, but I didn't like that my father was now trying to use this incident to make a mountain out of a molehill and get Dumbledore out of the school temporarily. I needed to tell him about the Acromantulas soon, otherwise he would miss a real chance to knock Dumbledore back in the fight for Sirius's release. He would annoy him in any case, but as in my future knowledge, he wouldn't gain anything from such a suspension.
In short, I couldn't steer him towards the right point, so I decided to reveal a little of my hand. I paused, choosing my words.
"Father," I began cautiously. "Perhaps Hogwarts has become too rotten for me to continue studying here."
Lucius frowned.
"I know that myself. Is there something I don't know?"
"Yes. The attitude towards Slytherins is getting worse and worse in the school, and the Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall, really dislikes our house. She tried to blame me for everything that happened within the school walls. And I'm also concerned about the Headmaster's attention. Professor Dumbledore has been paying me too much attention. Lately, he often spoke with me, trying to establish a connection."
Lucius tensed.
"Dumbledore's attention? I see… it's definitely connected to the will."
"I think so too."
My father winced as if from a sour lemon and tightened his grip on his cane.
"The old spider has completely lost his mind. He thinks it will help him… even if I have to spend more than Hogwarts' ten-year budget, I won't let him get his way."
Narcissa squeezed my hand.
"You did the right thing by defending yourself, son," she said with maternal concern. "The main thing is that you're unharmed. And those families… they're not worth a penny. They could try to go to court, but then they'd have to pay us compensation for attacking you. If it even gets to court."
Lucius, meanwhile, was looking at me thoughtfully. He was clearly thinking about my words.
"And what do you want, son, if Hogwarts repulses you?" he asked finally, looking down at me.
"I don't know, but perhaps it would be better if I transferred to another school? To Beauxbatons, for example. That way, I'd be out of the spotlight, and this wouldn't affect the family's reputation so much. And I could continue my education without pressure."
"I am one of the Governors of Hogwarts," my father began sharply, clearly displeased with the direction of my thoughts. "I fund the school so that in cases like this, I have power over the administration. Don't think about things that are still too far beyond you. I will decide what's best myself."
"Father, but can I prove that this is a reasonable decision?"
He nodded.
"I think I've gained enough from Hogwarts, and a couple of years in another school would only expand my circle of acquaintances. Even if it's just within an exchange program, just one year would greatly broaden my horizons and cool the tempers of those who were injured. And next year, Draco will be starting, and I think it would be better for him if the matters concerning me didn't affect him. Also, I'd like to tell you that I've learned something that could greatly discredit Hogwarts and the Headmaster in the near future. And I wouldn't want to be here when that happens. I think this could help you with the will."
After this mention, my father suddenly forgot about everything else and began asking me what I was talking about, although it was clear he didn't really believe I understood the situation. But things must have been bad for him to latch onto seemingly empty words like that.
I limited myself to saying that I didn't want to talk about it here in the corridor, but I mentioned that this information would allow not only the Governors to pressure the school but also the Wizengamot to pressure the Supreme Mugwump.
We talked there for a long time, and it was the first time I felt that my parents had actually listened to my opinion. It was gratifying, but it seemed it would be the only time something like that happened, because I wasn't sure how my relationship with my parents would develop after my birthday. Specifically, with my father… sigh, as much as I didn't want to leave my usual way of life, I also very much did.
We returned to the Headmaster's office, where the second phase of the proceedings had already begun. Everyone was gathering again to continue figuring out who was right, who was wrong, and who owed whom.
I watched them and thought about how everything was going according to plan. Perfectly! It was going absolutely flawlessly! The main thing was that nothing would happen that usually ruins things for me after a successful plan execution. Soon this farce would end, and I would begin a new chapter in my life… and I couldn't wait.
This time, things didn't go in circles, because my father stated his position.
"Enough. This farce needs to end."
Everyone froze. Even McGonagall, who had opened her mouth for another tirade, snapped it shut.
"The situation is perfectly clear," Lucius continued, looking around at those present. "Four upper-year students attacked my thirteen-year-old son. They are guilty, and arguing with that is utter nonsense. They are the ones who were hurt during this attempt. I see no point in wasting time further clarifying an obvious circumstance that is backed by evidence. The identity of the person who led my son into this trap is irrelevant, but it can only be determined after your children have recovered."
The Gryffindors' parents began to murmur indignantly, but Lucius coughed to indicate he had more to say.
"Therefore, as a gesture of goodwill, I am willing to pay for their private treatment at Mungo's. To pay fully for the best treatment, the most expensive potions, the most experienced healers. I think that is enough for you to make concessions as well."
"That's… that's generous," Farmus's father muttered, taken aback. "But don't think you've thrown a bone and I'll agree to any condition."
"The condition is this," Lucius added, his voice growing even colder. "To prevent further escalation of the conflict and for the safety of my son, I insist that, upon their recovery, they all switch to home schooling, and later take their exams at Hogwarts. I know that's possible. The reason is simple: I do not want my sons — neither Arcturus nor Draco, who will be starting next year — to have to deal with people who are so hostile towards them."