Chapter 277
"What exactly are you trying to do, Miss Dracul?"
Draco Malfoy walked slowly forward, as though intending to ascend the steps toward the stage and confront Albus Dumbledore directly.
When he passed closest to Fleur, he lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear.
Yet even then, there was unconcealed agitation hidden beneath his calm tone.
"Save you."
Her lips moved slightly.
A strange light flickered through her eyes before she fell silent again, as though stunned by everything that had just happened.
For a brief moment, genuine astonishment surged through Malfoy's heart.
Then another emotion instantly swallowed it whole.
"Draco, lower your wand."
Dumbledore's calm voice carried a strange persuasive power.
"Right now, we can still talk."
Even now, he still called him Draco instead of Malfoy.
"Please forgive me for refusing."
The boy rejected him flatly while staring directly into the old wizard's eyes.
He showed no fear of the Legilimency hidden behind those calm blue eyes.
"I can guarantee your safety."
Dumbledore frowned slightly but continued patiently.
"Everything is still unclear."
"What Mr. Crouch said still requires verification."
"That does not automatically mean you will be sent to Azkaban."
At that moment, even Dumbledore himself felt confused.
He no longer understood how matters had spiraled this far out of control.
"I can guarantee my own safety as well."
Malfoy answered indifferently.
The wand pressed against Fleur's throat suddenly shifted away and rose defensively before him.
A streak of white light shot from an extremely tricky angle—
Only to strike an invisible barrier and rebound upward into the ceiling in the next instant.
"Professor Moody."
Malfoy shook his head faintly.
"Sneak attacks are not a particularly admirable habit."
"They're rather disgraceful."
Alastor Moody let out a cold snort and lowered the wand hidden behind his back.
"Professor Dumbledore."
Malfoy slowly raised his brows.
"You won't act recklessly, will you?"
"I know you care deeply about the students here…"
"And the hostage in my hands."
Dumbledore fell silent.
The blue light within his eyes flickered as he thought rapidly.
"My daughter! What happened to my daughter?!"
A woman suddenly screamed hysterically from one of the tables.
She clawed at her golden hair before collapsing weakly onto the table, instantly causing fresh chaos.
"Madam Pomfrey! Someone fainted!"
A voice cried out nearby.
"Mother!"
Fleur instinctively tried stepping forward—
Only for Malfoy's wand to stop her immediately.
"You chose this path yourself."
His nearly inaudible voice reached her ears.
"It's not so easy to regret it now."
"…Fine."
At last, Dumbledore seemed to make a decision.
"I'll let you leave."
---
The Triwizard Tournament had descended into complete turmoil.
One of the judges, Barty Crouch Sr., had secretly bent the law over a decade ago and allowed his son to escape punishment.
Even more horrifying—
Voldemort had truly returned.
And one of his accomplices was supposedly a Hogwarts student.
Even Malfoy himself had never anticipated things developing this far.
Once again, events had broken free from his control.
The butterfly's wings had grown stronger.
And the storm they stirred was becoming harder and harder to restrain.
According to his original plan—
Voldemort's resurrection had failed to achieve its perfect result.
Afterward, Voldemort lost contact with both spies inside Hogwarts.
Combined with Dumbledore's sudden appearance at the resurrection site, Voldemort had every reason to suspect betrayal among his followers.
And the suspects were very limited.
Either Malfoy—
Or Barty Crouch Jr.
No one else.
And once today's incident spread everywhere, Voldemort would understand that neither of them had betrayed him.
Their exposure had merely been the result of Crouch Jr.'s mistake.
After all, almost no one could resist Veritaserum forever.
But that alone would never fully erase Voldemort's suspicion.
Which meant Malfoy still needed something resembling proof of loyalty.
A short "vacation" in Azkaban might actually have been the perfect solution.
Perhaps it would even earn him a degree of "sympathy" from Voldemort.
The Dark Lord himself might not truly possess such emotions—
But in order to maintain loyalty among his followers, he still occasionally needed to imitate them.
In the near future, Voldemort would inevitably attack Azkaban and rebuild his forces.
At that time, Malfoy would still be imprisoned there.
And once rescued—
He would gain the Dark Lord's complete trust.
Being sent to Azkaban would completely sever any visible ties between the Malfoy family and Dumbledore.
If Voldemort had once suspected the Malfoys of wavering between both sides—
That suspicion would disappear entirely afterward.
Meanwhile, remaining at Hogwarts would no longer provide Malfoy with meaningful information anyway.
So originally—
All he needed to do after Crouch's testimony was resist slightly and put on a convincing performance.
Then his "holiday" in Azkaban could begin naturally.
But Fleur had ruined everything.
He genuinely could not understand what she was trying to accomplish.
She had rushed at him like a madwoman—
And instinctively, he had restrained her.
From there, the entire situation had spiraled uncontrollably into hostage-taking and negotiation.
The moment their eyes met—
Those enchanting silver-blue eyes—
Something inside him had abruptly changed.
It was not infatuation.
It was vigilance.
Suspicion.
At that instant, it felt as though the entire world was deceiving him.
He could trust no one.
Even his ability to think calmly seemed to disappear.
Only instinct remained—
Cold, defensive instinct urging him to resist everyone around him.
"What exactly are you trying to do?"
Malfoy asked coldly.
At that moment, the two of them had already arrived at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Cold mist drifted through the darkness.
Thorns surrounded them from every direction.
Not far away stood a magnificent griffin lowering its head as though pecking at the muddy earth.
Under the moonlight, the creature looked breathtaking.
Its body was brownish-gold.
Its chest was covered in brilliant crimson feathers.
Powerful muscles bulged beneath its body, radiating explosive strength.
Silver feathers ringed its forelimbs.
Its sharp claws sank deeply into the mud.
But the most striking thing was its eyes—
They burned like living flames.
Like crimson jewels beneath the night sky.
Its massive wings beat slowly, as though prepared to soar into the heavens at any moment.
Then—
The illusion dissolved.
Malfoy lightly tightened his grip around his wand.
The mighty magical beast immediately began fading away.
Its body shrank smaller and smaller—
Until it finally transformed back into an ordinary bench resting quietly upon the ground.
Apparently, he had simply grabbed some random object from the hall and transfigured it into transportation.
After all, griffins could fly.
It was a reasonable choice for escape.
Malfoy had circled outside for some time before finally deciding to return to Hogwarts instead.
After all—
The darkest place was often directly beneath the light.
"Excellent Transfiguration."
Fleur's blue eyes swept across the bench before she muttered softly in admiration.
"As for my goal…"
She slowly lifted her swan-like neck proudly.
"I merely wanted to save someone whose brain might soon be sucked empty by Dementors."