Inside the headmaster's office, Sean stayed silent—but Lucius knew perfectly well who Dumbledore meant.
He was certain this hadn't been Dumbledore's idea. He'd known the old wizard far too long; Dumbledore had no interest in playing that sort of "rules game" with them.
Lucius's thoughts raced.
A wizard even more outstanding than Dumbledore. The greatest wizard of the future.
He'd heard too many rumors. The wizarding world had no shortage of gossip—Lockhart, for instance; who could've imagined he'd been boasting for decades?
But there were also some "pieces of news" in the wizarding world that couldn't be dismissed as mere rumor.
For example, the young wizard standing beside Dumbledore now—quietly watching everything, a thin layer of indifference in his eyes.
They were supposed to be on the same side.
Lucius forced himself to believe that.
The boy was unquestionably a pure-blood aristocrat, the descendant of a line so sensitive that even the Ministry had to keep it secret.
So which family was he from?
Lucius had his private guesses.
As for why Hogwarts had always carried rumors of this boy opposing Voldemort…
That was easy to explain.
Just like how they'd once assumed Harry Potter was a powerful dark wizard—someone Voldemort had tried to eliminate so he wouldn't threaten his position—this boy would naturally purge Voldemort's forces.
Otherwise, how could he unify the entire wizarding world?
If he wasn't trying to cleanse Voldemort's power and seize control of the wizarding world, why would he oppose Voldemort at all?
A clash between two generations of wizards—now it seemed the one in front of him had the upper hand.
And it wasn't hard to imagine: the final victor could hardly be anyone else.
He was too young. Too full of potential—potential that even surpassed Voldemort.
Even more terrifying: he seemed to understand disguise better than Voldemort ever had.
Dumbledore—whom Voldemort had never fooled—had been fooled by him.
Or perhaps… he was Dumbledore's—
Lucius had heard the Dumbledore family supposedly had a girl.
Lucius's pale hands clenched into fists, then loosened again.
"Do you have proof?" he rasped.
"Oh, no one can provide proof anymore," Dumbledore said, smiling as he looked at Sean. "Riddle has disappeared from the diary now.
"And, Lucius, I'll offer you one piece of advice: stop passing around Voldemort's old school things.
"If more of those objects end up in the hands of innocents, then at the very least Arthur Weasley will be able to trace them back to you…"
Lucius Malfoy stood there in a daze for a few more seconds. Sean saw it clearly—Lucius's right hand twitched once, as if he meant to reach for his wand.
But he restrained himself, and looked at Sean.
It was a strange look—half plea, half inquiry.
Unfortunately, Sean couldn't read it.
"Still, I've heard the Ministry has uncovered something else recently, Lucius. Best if it has nothing to do with you—otherwise the other eleven governors…"
Dumbledore was still speaking when an owl flew in. A letter had come for Sean.
[Your instructions have been carried out.
—Your most loyal, forever devoted Rita Skeeter]
As that letter appeared, even more owls swept into the headmaster's office. Both Dumbledore and Lucius received mail.
"It seems my advice came too late," Dumbledore said, eyes narrowing. "You've been dismissed, Lucius—and there's a three-month investigation period to get through as well."
Lucius's whole body trembled. He'd seen the bolded words—"dismissal" and "investigation."
For a moment, he couldn't accept it.
Had Draco failed to convey his intentions—failed to show their willingness to submit?
Or had the boy already decided the Malfoys weren't worth anything?
No. No, no…
The Malfoy family still had plenty of value the boy didn't know about.
In the end, Lucius forced himself under control. He turned to his house-elf.
"Come, Dobby. We're leaving."
He yanked the door open. The house-elf rushed over—and Malfoy kicked him out through the doorway.
They could hear Dobby's pained screams echoing down the corridor.
"I've noticed you don't have any friends in Slytherin," Dumbledore remarked casually once they were gone.
Sean looked at him, not quite keeping up with how quickly the topic had changed.
"That's right, Headmaster," Sean answered.
Then he glanced toward the doorway—toward Harry, who'd apparently been eavesdropping for who knew how long.
Sean tucked the diary away, said goodbye to Dumbledore—whose eyes were full of mischief—and left.
"Harry?"
At the door, Sean called softly into a shadowed corner.
"Ah—Sean—uh—Sean—here—this, um, statue is… really…"
Harry stumbled out of the darkness, stammering.
Sean watched him quietly until Harry's face went red.
"You—you—you knew the whole time, didn't you, Sean? You got Lucius Malfoy dismissed! Merlin, I can't believe we can do things like that!"
Harry started out halting, but by the end the words were tumbling out.
"Mhm," Sean said.
"I…"
Harry wanted to say more, but he choked on it.
Sean could make Lucius Malfoy pay the price he deserved—and Harry could only "elbow" Draco on the Quidditch pitch.
He knew it was Sean… and yet a bitter, unwilling feeling rose up anyway.
He thought about all the Hope Cottage training he'd missed. The old rush he used to feel at the thought of Quidditch had faded.
Suddenly, nothing seemed to matter.
"Harry," Sean said, "do you want to become an Auror?"
"An Auror?" Harry echoed.
"A group of hand-picked, highly trained elite wizards," Sean explained patiently, "responsible for investigating crimes related to dark magic—and for hunting down and arresting dark wizards."
"Can I become an Auror?" Harry's eyes brightened and brightened.
"Why not?
"But Aurors hunt criminals who use dark magic, so the work is extremely dangerous, and getting in is hard.
"You need at least five N.E.W.T. certificates, and none of the results can be below 'Acceptable.' You also have to pass a series of strict character and aptitude tests at the Auror Office.
"If you want, I can help."
Sean spoke slowly.
Harry drifted into a daze.
Before leaving, Sean gave Harry a book about famous Auror cases—and also handed him Tom Riddle's destroyed diary.
"It'll be useful," Sean said.
Harry jerked his gaze toward Lucius and Dobby in the distance. A moment ago, he'd had the urge to save Dobby.
He suddenly suspected Sean had read his mind again.
On the last day before Easter,
Harry finally found something he wanted to do.
He hadn't known sunsets could be this vividly red.
He suddenly didn't care about mud, wind, snow, or the miserable weather that made Quidditch practice unbearable.
His heart felt full—full enough to withstand all the world's shifting uncertainties.
"Sean…"
Harry whispered.
The boy with the book turned back.
Harry, somehow, couldn't speak.
Outside the window was a dusk that would never quite become night.
And in that intoxicating twilight, Harry saw Sean's outline edged in gold.
~~~
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