Chapter 440: The Malfoy Misunderstanding
Inside the Headmaster's office, Sean remained silent, but Lucius Malfoy knew exactly who Dumbledore was referring to.
He was certain this confrontation hadn't been initiated by Dumbledore alone. Having dealt with Albus for decades, he knew the old wizard had little interest in playing the Ministry's bureaucratic games for personal spite.
Lucius's mind raced.
A wizard more accomplished than Dumbledore. A "future greatest wizard." He had heard the whispers, and while the Wizarding World was always prone to hyperbole—the recent scandal with Lockhart being a prime example—some things could not be dismissed as mere rumors.
He looked at the young wizard standing beside Dumbledore. Sean watched the room with an air of thin, cold indifference.
They must be on the same side, Lucius forced himself to think.
The boy was clearly a pure-blood of the highest order, a scion of a line so sensitive that the Ministry had placed his very records under seal. But which family? Lucius had his suspicions.
As for the rumors that Sean had been fighting Voldemort in the shadows of Hogwarts... that was easy to rationalize. Just as the world had once incorrectly assumed Harry Potter was a powerful Dark Wizard whom Voldemort struck down to eliminate a rival, it stood to reason that Sean Green was simply clearing out the remnants of the old regime. After all, how else could one hope to unify the Wizarding World except by dismantling the competition?
Two generations of power were colliding, and it was clear who held the advantage. The boy was young, possessed of a potential that eclipsed even the Dark Lord's, and—most terrifyingly—he was a master of masks. Voldemort had never been able to truly deceive Dumbledore, yet this boy lived in the Headmaster's pocket as a favored ward.
Or perhaps... Lucius recalled a whisper that the Dumbledore family tree still held a hidden branch.
Lucius's pale hands clenched into white-knuckled fists before he forced them to relax.
"Do you have proof?" he asked, his voice raspy.
"Alas, proof is a difficult thing to come by now," Dumbledore said pleasantly, looking at Sean. "Tom Riddle has vanished from the pages.
"However, Lucius, I shall offer you a word of advice: stop distributing the Dark Lord's old school supplies. If any more of these items find their way into the hands of the innocent, I suspect Arthur Weasley will be quite capable of tracing them back to your manor..."
Lucius Malfoy stood frozen for a moment. Sean saw his right hand twitch toward the wand concealed in his cane, but the man restrained himself. Instead, Lucius turned a look toward Sean—a strange, searching gaze that seemed to hover between a plea and a question.
Unfortunately for Lucius, Sean didn't have the slightest idea what he was looking for.
"I've also heard the Ministry has uncovered a few irregularities in your accounts, Lucius," Dumbledore added. "I trust they have nothing to do with you, otherwise the other eleven Governors might find your presence on the Board... cumbersome."
As Dumbledore spoke, an owl swooped through the window, dropping a letter into Sean's hand.
[Your will has been done.
—Yours most faithfully, your eternal admirer, Rita Skeeter]
As the first letter arrived, a literal storm of owls descended upon the office. Both Dumbledore and Lucius were handed official scrolls bearing the Ministry seal.
"It seems my advice arrived a moment too late," Dumbledore noted, peering over his half-moon spectacles. "You've been dismissed, Lucius. And it seems there is a three-month formal inquiry into your conduct pending."
Lucius began to tremble. He stared at the bold, red ink of the words DISMISSED and UNDER INVESTIGATION.
He couldn't accept it. Had Draco failed to convey his intentions? Had the boy not understood that the Malfoys were ready to submit? Or was it simply that Sean Green found no value in them?
No... the Malfoy family had assets the boy couldn't possibly ignore.
Lucius eventually regained a shred of his dignity. He turned to his cowering house-elf. "We're leaving, Dobby!"
He wrenched the door open. As the elf scrambled after him, Malfoy delivered a vicious kick that sent Dobby spiraling out into the corridor. A high-pitched shriek of pain echoed through the hall.
"I've noticed you don't have many friends in Slytherin," Dumbledore remarked casually once the door had slammed shut.
Sean looked at Dumbledore, blinking. He found it difficult to keep up with the Headmaster's sudden shifts in topic.
"That is correct, Professor," Sean replied.
He tucked the diary away and bid farewell to Dumbledore, who was currently wearing a look of immense, silent mischief.
Outside the Office.
"Harry?" Sean called out softly, looking toward a nearby alcove.
"Er—Sean! Oh, blimey... the statues here... they're quite..." Harry stumbled out of the shadows, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet.
Sean watched him until the boy eventually found his tongue.
"You... you knew, didn't you, Sean? You got Lucius Malfoy sacked! Merlin's beard, I didn't think anyone could actually do that!" Harry's voice grew steadier as his excitement took over.
"Mmm," Sean hummed in affirmation.
"I..." Harry started, then went quiet.
Sean could make a man like Lucius Malfoy pay for his crimes with a few letters, while Harry had been reduced to "elbowing" Draco on a Quidditch pitch. He knew Sean was in a different league, but he couldn't help a flicker of frustration at his own helplessness.
He thought of the weeks of training he had missed in the Room of Hope. The thrill he usually felt for Quidditch had evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of insignificance.
"Harry, do you want to be an Auror?" Sean asked suddenly.
"An Auror?" Harry repeated.
"An elite group of highly trained wizards," Sean explained. "They investigate Dark Arts crimes and handle the apprehension of dark wizards. It's dangerous work, and the entry requirements are the most stringent in the Ministry. You need at least five N.E.W.T.s with high marks, followed by a series of grueling character and aptitude tests. If you're interested, I can help you prepare."
Harry felt a jolt of inspiration. His eyes grew bright.
Before they parted, Sean handed Harry a book on the history of the Auror Office. He also pressed the ruined diary into Harry's hands.
"This will be useful," Sean noted.
Harry looked up, his gaze following Lucius and Dobby in the distance. He had already begun to formulate a plan to free the elf. He wondered for a split second if Sean had just read his mind.
It was the final day before the Easter break.
Harry had finally found his purpose. He hadn't realized that a sunset could look so beautiful; he no longer cared about the mud on his robes, the freezing wind, or the fickle weather of the Quidditch season.
He felt "full"—anchored against the uncertainty of the world.
"Sean!" Harry called out suddenly.
The dark-haired boy, clutching a book under his arm, turned back.
Harry's voice caught in his throat. Framed against the window, Sean's silhouette was outlined in a brilliant, flickering halo of gold from the setting sun.
[End of Chapter 440]
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