LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 39: A Serious Meeting
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Light snowflakes drifted gently through the air at Hogwarts, dotting the landscape and giving the little wizards walking across the white lawn a sense of homecoming.
Christmas holidays had finally arrived!
The students joyfully carried their bags toward the castle entrance, hopping into carriages to Hogsmeade Station, where they would board the Hogwarts Express bound for King's Cross Station.
Harry sat in his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, gazing out the window next to his bed. He watched as his classmates leisurely made their way to the carriages, a slight pang of envy tugging at his heart.
"Huh-huh-"
A soft snore interrupted his thoughts. Harry turned to see Ron still sound asleep, completely oblivious to the bustle outside.
A smile tugged at Harry's lips as he realized something. He wasn't envious of those students heading home for Christmas. After all, Hogwarts was his home, and this year, he would be spending Christmas right here.
But just as Harry settled into this thought, something caught his attention.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise.
On the snow-dusted lawn, he spotted a lone figure moving against the flow of students. The platinum blonde hair was unmistakable—it was Draco Malfoy. And walking beside him was an adult wizard, with the same distinctive hair color, striding toward the castle alongside Draco.
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"Draco, are you certain the person bullying you is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"
Lucius Malfoy, walking beside his son on the snow-dusted lawn, asked with a steely gaze, his cold gray eyes fixed on Draco.
Draco's father, Lucius, shared the same platinum blonde hair as Draco, and his expression was as cold and calculating as ever. He carried a luxurious snake-headed cane, the symbol of the Malfoy family's power.
Draco squirmed slightly, as if sensing the tension in the air.
"It is Professor Dracula of Defense Against the Dark Arts," he whispered, his voice laced with unease. "Dad, are you really going to expel him?"
"Of course, isn't that what you want?" Lucius sneered, his gaze sharp as a dagger. "Draco, you must understand, we are Malfoys—one of the twenty-eight noble families. We don't allow anyone to disrespect us. We respond swiftly to those who provoke our name, or risk tarnishing our honor!"
"But... his classes are genuinely interesting," Draco hesitated, his voice trailing off. "And he's quite powerful. There are rumors all over Hogwarts that he isn't afraid of the Dark Lord..."
At the mention of the Dark Lord, Lucius's eyes twitched involuntarily. His grip tightened on his cane. He had recently disposed of an important diary given to him by the Dark Lord, and though he showed no outward signs of concern, deep down he feared that Voldemort's shadow might still loom over them.
"Listen to me, Draco," Lucius whispered urgently, his voice low but firm, "The Dark Lord is dead, we must move forward." He glanced around, as though the very air might be listening. "Your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor may not fear him, but those are only rumors. Even if he is bold, it's because he believes the Dark Lord is gone for good. We cannot let such things distract us."
Draco nodded reluctantly, still unsure, but willing to follow his father's lead.
Just then, a figure in a purple turban passed by. The moment Lucius's eyes met his, an icy chill ran down his spine, a deep sense of unease stirring within him.
"Good morning, Teacher Quirrell," Draco said, forcing politeness, aware of his father's watchful gaze.
"Good morning, Malfoy," Quirrell replied, his voice wavering unnervingly, as if his words were not entirely his own. "I wonder, am I fortunate enough to know what you were just discussing?"
Lucius's lips tightened, his cool composure never faltering, but his heart raced beneath the surface. "What we're discussing is none of your business," he said, his tone sharp, dismissing Quirrell with an icy edge.
Quirrell's eyes lingered on Lucius for a moment longer than was comfortable. Then, without a word, he turned and walked toward the towering gates of Hogwarts, his movements deliberate yet unsettlingly smooth.
Lucius, his mind occupied with other matters, failed to notice the subtle, sinister aura emanating from Quirrell's pocket. A dark, ancient force pulsed from within, its tendrils weaving into Quirrell's very being, influencing his actions and thoughts.
"Strange," Draco murmured, watching Quirrell's retreating figure. "Why doesn't Mr. Quirrell stutter anymore?"
Lucius flinched at his son's words, the question stirring a vague sense of discomfort within him. "Let's go, Draco," he urged, his voice betraying a rare tremor.
"Coming!" Draco replied, shaking off the odd feeling, though his curiosity gnawed at him. Quickly, he caught up with his father, but the unsettling sense that something was terribly wrong clung to the air.
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When the Malfoys arrived at the school board meeting room at Hogwarts, they found all twelve school directors already seated. A heavy silence filled the room as the directors sat in a tight circle around the long, round table, their eyes locked onto each other.
Lucius's voice was the first to cut through the stillness. "So, you're telling me you gathered us here just to fire a professor?" one of the school directors questioned, his tone laced with disbelief.
"Yes," Lucius answered, his voice steady as he placed his ornate cane upon the table, the sharp click of the wood reverberating in the tense air. He fixed his gaze on the director who had spoken. "I believe the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has a serious flaw in his teaching methods. Professor Dracula's lessons put students at risk, completely disregarding their safety. If an accident were to happen, Hogwarts would bear a heavy responsibility."
Lucius paused, his eyes narrowing as he reached into his robe and pulled out a student questionnaire, which he placed on the table with deliberate force.
"This is the testimony from several students, all of whom have reported that Professor Dracula frequently resorts to corporal punishment in his classes."
The school board members exchanged glances before passing the questionnaire around, their brows furrowing slightly as they read the contents. Draco's name, along with Crabbe's, Goyle's, and Parkinson's, was glaringly present.
"Principal Dumbledore," one of the directors said after a long moment of silence, turning to the headmaster, who had been dozing in his chair, "what do you think of Professor Dracula's conduct?"
Dumbledore blinked and looked up, his piercing blue eyes briefly scanning the room before a serene smile spread across his face. "Professor Dracula is, without a doubt, one of the most skilled and distinguished Defense Against the Dark Arts professors we've had in recent decades."
The directors sat in stunned silence. Even Lucius's smug expression faltered as the rest of the board exchanged uneasy glances. It was rare for Dumbledore to speak so highly of anyone, especially with so much on the line. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air.
"Principal Dumbledore," Lucius pressed, his voice tinged with frustration, "you cannot ignore the fact that Professor Dracula has physically punished students. The Ministry of Magic's Education Act is clear: no teacher has the right to inflict such punishment on minor wizards."
Lucius leaned forward, locking eyes with Dumbledore, his sneer barely concealed. "My son Draco has suffered lasting psychological trauma due to this abuse. This alone should be more than enough for the school board to expel him."
The room seemed to grow colder at his words, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though the walls themselves were closing in on the Malfoys. The tension in the room was obvious as Lucius held Dumbledore's gaze, daring him to deny the accusations.
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