"Everyone, please listen to me first. We can decide after I've finished speaking." Lucius rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, sweeping his gaze across the room. He raised one finger. "First, let me ask—those in favor of sending Misha to Azkaban, raise your hands."
As expected, four-fifths of the people in the room lifted their hands immediately.
Lucius sighed inwardly.
The pressure isn't on you lot, so of course you're not worried.
Sure, locking Misha and her shadow away in Azkaban is great for you. Tom isn't standing behind any of you, so you don't have to worry about him showing up one day and slaughtering the entire room.
But me?
You selfish bastards only ever think about yourselves!
"Then those against it—raise your hands."
Only a couple of hands went up. The rest stayed neutral.
"I'd like to ask you something. These are ten-year-old children—not even eleven yet. Don't you feel even the slightest bit uneasy doing this?"
Lucius's eyes swept over every face. "You can really bring yourselves to do this to two little girls?"
"Lucius! We're thinking of the greater good! It doesn't matter that they're children. She's a natural-born Dark witch. We have no idea what she'll become in the future or what disasters she might cause!
Creating an entirely new lifeform is unheard of in the wizarding world. We must nip this in the bud!"
Lucius cut him off sharply. "Wizarding world this, wizarding world that—you people have that phrase glued to your tongues. Tell me—
What exactly have any of you actually done for the wizarding world?
You sit here collecting your Ministry salaries every month—what have you accomplished? You all crawled up from the Auror ranks, so let me ask you: what is the most basic requirement for an Auror?
Power! Someone without enough power can't become an Auror!
But after you gained that power, what have you done? You're actually willing to move against a child. She's a raw gem right now. None of us knows what her future holds, yet you idiots want to rob her of any future at all.
You keep saying 'what if she becomes a Dark witch?' Have any of you ever considered what if she grows up to be an upright, kind Light witch? That would be a miracle for the entire wizarding world—because to this day, no Light wizard has ever created another version of themselves!"
Lucius slammed his fist on the table and stood up. He walked straight over to the man who had just argued with him. "Now tell me—if your seven-year-old daughter somehow created a life exactly like herself, would you throw her into Azkaban? I'm sure your answer would be no!"
The wizard fell silent and lowered his head. "But—"
"No buts!" Lucius grabbed the man by the hair and yanked his head up so they were eye-to-eye. "A room full of Aurors, yet none of you have even the slightest confidence in your own strength. I am deeply disappointed in all of you!
I never imagined you were just a bunch of freeloaders. I have decided—Misha and her shadow will remain at Hogwarts. Let Dumbledore teach them for a while.
The future is impossible to predict. We don't know what these two little ones will become. But I at least want them to have a present. I want them to live as children at Hogwarts for some time!"
"That's it—meeting adjourned!" Lucius swept his hand through the air, shutting everyone up.
"Wait, Lucius, we haven't reached a conclusion yet. The Ministry isn't yours alone."
Lucius shot him a cold glare. "Anyone who still agrees to send Misha to Azkaban, raise your hand. The Malfoy family thanks you!"
He put heavy emphasis on the word "thanks."
This time, only two hands went up.
"Meeting over. Everyone out—dismissed!" Lucius gripped his cane and strode out of the conference hall first, leaving behind a room full of stunned, bewildered faces.
They looked at one another.
"Why didn't you raise your hand earlier? Before the meeting you were the loudest one saying we had to lock Misha up!"
"Are you insane or am I? That's Lucius Malfoy! He just spoke. You want to oppose the Malfoy family? Go die by yourself—don't drag me down with you."
That was exactly what everyone was thinking.
So they all stayed silent.
Offending the Malfoy family was the worst possible move. Compared to that, they'd rather leave the ticking time bomb at Hogwarts.
After all—when the time came, it would be Hogwarts and Dumbledore who suffered, not them.
Mind your own business and stay out of trouble—that was the number-one survival rule in the wizarding world!
"Still… doesn't Lucius seem a little off? Normally he would've jumped at the chance to agree and use it to smear Dumbledore, but he didn't."
"…Exactly."
Lucius didn't hear any of their muttering. He left the Ministry on his own.
Once he stepped back into the Muggle world, he saw a white-bearded old man standing by the roadside, clearly waiting for him.
"You really should trim that beard and hair. Right now you look exactly like a beggar on the street—completely unworthy of your status."
The white-bearded elder chuckled and stroked his beard. "I think it's quite nice. The children find me very approachable, don't they?
Anyway, I didn't see any other Aurors heading out, so I assume you said something rather effective in the meeting, Lucius. The you of the future will definitely thank the you of today."
Lucius curled his lip. "I didn't do it for myself."
(He absolutely did it for himself.)
"I simply believe that any child—no matter who—should be allowed to enjoy their childhood. The Ministry has no right to steal that from her.
If Draco ever ended up in that meeting in the future, I would do the exact same thing."
Dumbledore asked curiously, "And if it were Tom in that meeting?"
"I would still do the same." Lucius stubbornly lifted his chin even as his neck flushed red.
(He actually wished Tom could be locked in Azkaban. That would be wonderful.)
Unfortunately, that was impossible.
Dumbledore would protect Tom to the death, and Snape would probably start throwing curses right there in the conference hall.
If they really tried to imprison Tom, every professor at Hogwarts would probably charge out immediately.
Lucius tried to picture the scene and found it terrifying.
Besides, Tom would remember every single face that voted to send him to Azkaban. The moment he got the chance in the future—
Lucius had zero interest in being hunted down by someone named "Tom Riddle."
Whether it was this Tom or the Voldemort Tom.
"Where are you headed now?"
"Home!" Lucius snapped, cane in hand, already turning to leave.
"Before you go home, perhaps we could have a drink. Severus also wants to see you—he's very concerned about today's meeting."
Lucius's mouth twitched.
If he hadn't said what he said in the meeting, would Dumbledore and Snape still be inviting him for a friendly drink right now?
Probably… not.
"Can I refuse?" Lucius asked, suddenly lacking confidence.
"Of course you can. It's your freedom. But Severus is already waiting there. Are you sure you want to refuse?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with fox-like cunning as he spoke.
"Dumbledore, you really are a—slippery old fox. It's a waste having someone like you as Headmaster of Hogwarts. You should be running the country! You'd make an excellent Prime Minister—that's where your cunning belongs!"
Dumbledore waved his hand with a smile. "No, no, I'm not that capable. I'm just an ordinary headmaster. Isn't it perfectly reasonable for a headmaster to want every student at his school to experience the childhood they deserve?"
"Then why drag Severus into this?"
Dumbledore looked genuinely puzzled. "Didn't you know? Severus is extremely good to Tom. Tom's sister is essentially Severus's sister too.
So if anything were to happen to Misha and the Ministry… guess what Tom would do? He'd storm the Ministry and hit every single freeloader with Sectumsempra.
And if Tom couldn't win, Severus would be right behind him. At that point it might not be Sectumsempra anymore.
Ah, Lucius, let's go. You can't refuse. Besides, we still have something to ask of you later. As you know, Hogwarts is currently missing a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
Lucius let out a startled cry. "You want me to become a professor at Hogwarts?!"
He absolutely could not do that job.
At least, Lucius rejected the idea from the bottom of his heart.
Especially the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
That post seemed cursed—every professor who took it never lasted a full year. They either disappeared or died.
Oh right, Professor Quirrell had broken the pattern.
He only lasted half a year before dying.
"Calm down, my dear sir. That's not what I meant. I simply hope you can—introduce someone to me." The corner of Dumbledore's mouth curved upward. "I need to find a certain person, and I believe you have the means to help me locate him."
"Who?"
"Gilderoy Lockhart."
Lucius frowned. "That fraud? You're seriously planning to bring him to Hogwarts as a professor? You know exactly what kind of person Lockhart is and how much hot air is in all those so-called adventure stories of his—and you still insist?"
Dumbledore gave a meaningful smile and said nothing, which was as good as confirmation.
Three Broomsticks Pub.
Lucius, Dumbledore, and Snape sat together.
They had ordered drinks. Dumbledore, being older, switched to a non-alcoholic beverage after one sip.
"Severus, what did you want to see me about?" Lucius raised his glass.
"Nothing much." Snape clinked glasses with him. "I just wanted to know… whether Tom will be—well, you know. He's my only son, after all."
Lucius froze.
He slowly set his glass down on the table.
He rubbed his ears, took a deep breath, and felt as if he had misheard Snape just now.
"Do you even know what you're saying?"
"I said he's my only son."
"Tom is your son?!?!"
Lucius slammed the table and shot to his feet, staring at Snape in disbelief.
When the hell did this guy get a son—and why is the kid already this big?
Ten years ago… that would mean—
A thought suddenly struck Lucius.
"Tom and Harry are half-brothers from the same mother? Severus, when exactly did you and Lily—oh my God, I had no idea something like this happened! How could you—!
Does Harry know? And you, Albus—why don't you look surprised at all?!"
Lucius looked completely flustered, nothing like the dignified adult he usually was.
Meanwhile, Snape was on the verge of crushing his glass. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm only Tom's godfather!
Although it hasn't been made official yet… but basically."
Lucius breathed a huge sigh of relief.
He had almost thought Snape and Lily had actually—
After hearing that, Lucius was still shocked, but at least he could accept it.
If Tom and Harry really were half-brothers, that would have been even harder to swallow.
"Um… rest assured, I'll take good care of him. But why exactly did you two send him to my house? Was it just to keep me in check?"
This question was aimed straight at Dumbledore.
Lucius wanted an answer.
He knew the whole thing had been orchestrated by this old fox.
"Nothing of the sort. How could you call it 'keeping you in check'? You're free to do whatever you like. Tom is a very obedient boy—he won't interfere with you at all.
I simply felt that Tom has never experienced normal wizard family life and wanted him to see it for himself. Lucius, you wouldn't refuse such a small favor, would you?"
"Do I even have the right to refuse?"
Lucius downed his drink in one gulp. The bitter alcohol burned his throat.
He felt like these two had completely trapped him.
"While he's at your house, you mustn't let his studies fall behind. Help me keep an eye on his learning, especially Potions."
"I'm not his godfather!"
"Make sure he eats on time. That boy sometimes forgets to eat altogether.
At night he kicks his blanket off in his sleep—you need to—"
Lucius finally exploded. "I'm not his father! You've gone too far, Severus!
If you care about Tom so much, why don't you take him yourself?!"
Snape gave a bitter smile. "He's not afraid of me, so it's useless for me to discipline him."
One glass after another, time passed quickly.
That night.
Lucius returned home. Draco was already asleep, but the light in the other room was still on.
Lucius glanced at the house-elf standing nervously at his feet. "Tom hasn't gone to bed yet?"
Dobby nodded, trembling slightly. "N-not yet, Master."