Chapter- 5 : Grief Part - 3
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Papers began to shuffle slightly, as if an unseen hand passed over them. The faint flicker of light only distantly registered. When Dumbledore's ceramic candy dish cracked clean through, he didn't even twitch. And the gasps as, behind him, the sword he'd killed the Basilisk with rose slowly off the desk and turned to point towards Malfoy, were distant, important, mere sound without significance.
"You," he repeated, "killed Ginny."
And the sword shot towards Malfoy as though banished at him.
His lunge to the side came in time to save his skin, but not his cloak.
The man kept his balance, though, and had managed to both unfasten his cloak's throat clasp and draw his wand, so that when he whirled to face Harry it was pointed at him. "No one tries to kill me, Potter."
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both had their wands out, and so did Professor McGonagall, though she appeared to be trying her best to restrain them. Harry was going for his own wand when Dumbledore thundered, "Enough!" and a shimmering white curtain appeared between Malfoy, and the rest of the room.
Broken from his single-minded fury, Harry blinked, then shifted his gaze to see the sword still pinning Malfoy's cloak, embedded halfway into the solid stone wall where Malfoy had been standing.
That had to have been him.
But how?
Somehow, shrinking a sweater or turning his teacher's hair blue just didn't seem to be on this magnitude. Although vanishing the glass at the zoo just might have been something close.
Too bad it doesn't seem to work on living things.
Then he thought about the likelihood that he would have vanished Dudley by now, and was forced to – reluctantly – revise.
"Dumbledore." Malfoy looked somewhat ruffled, but he retained the entitled arrogance that made Harry's hands curl into fists. "That boy attacked a governor of Hogwarts. I demand he be expelled at once."
The bottom of his stomach dropped out. No, he thought, he can't do that. But the curling uncertainty fluttering through him belied that thought. Can he? Panicked, he looked at Dumbledore.
But Dumbledore seemed utterly unconcerned.
"Come now, Lucius," the Headmaster began, speaking lightly, cajolingly. "I understand you are upset. But as a school governor, you know we've never held the mishaps of accidental magic against the children who perform them." His easy, nonchalant tone turned Harry's actions into a minor bit of accidental mischief, and reframed Malfoy's demand for expulsion into a hysterical overreaction. "It's not fair to punish a young witch or wizard for something they have no control over."
"A mishap?" Malfoy almost choked, voice rising in furious indignation. "Harry Potter tried to kill me!"
"Indeed." Despite everything, Harry almost laughed at that serene acknowledgment. Malfoy's haughty, indifferent mask was well and truly shattered. The man seemed squarely caught between impotent rage and utter disbelief. "But he used no wand, as we can attest. And I'm sure Harry didn't banish the sword on purpose, did you my boy?"
He glared at Malfoy, "Not knowingly…"
Ignoring the dark menace in his student's tone, Dumbledore smiled. "Very good." He clapped his hands together. "In that case, I'm afraid it must be ruled accidental magic. As an esteemed governor of our fine institution, you know all about the unavoidable difficulties young witches and wizards encounter while struggling to train their magic." Dumbledore peered at the man from over his half-moon glasses. "Though you may wish to avoid Harry in the future." It was said offhandedly, almost an afterthought. "His powers do seem somewhat volatile around you."
Harry had never before realized that the headmaster's slightly absent-minded, grandfatherly calmness could be used as a weapon. It was… unexpectedly awesome.
But Malfoy recouped his poise quickly. "Headmaster, if you'll not expel him for attempted murder, I'm afraid I'm forced to take this to the Ministry. He is clearly a danger to others." The man didn't even bother with faking a tone of civic concern. "We'll hear what they have to say about the matter."
Dumbledore's face remained calm. "That's a serious accusation, Lucius. One I don't believe you wish to pursue. Undoubtedly, a major inquisition would ask why Mr. Potter was so upset that he hurled a sword at you with accidental magic. And his story would have interesting consequences for your reputation."
Grey eyes narrowed. "You have no proof of any wrongdoing on my part."
The barest breath of silence, as everyone in the room absorbed those words. Still walled away from Malfoy by the headmaster's shimmering barrier of magic, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were holding their wands at ready, a killing rage in their eyes.
"If I had," the Headmaster said, every word precise, "you would no longer retain possession of your wand. Or your faculties."
Harry shivered, although he didn't know why. Dumbledore's voice had been even, and perfectly calm. But for a second-
It felt like a shadow passed in front of the sun.
Malfoy was pale.
Unruffled, Dumbledore continued. "Yet we don't need a conviction to topple your reputation, and I find myself almost hoping you pursue this. Now, leave." Harry couldn't think of anyone who would disobey a command in that tone of voice. Malfoy was no exception.
Wisely, from the look on Mr. Weasley's face, Dumbledore did not drop the shield between Malfoy and the rest of the room. As the man gave a tight nod and turned to leave the office, Dobby scurrying at his heels, Dumbledore spoke one last time, pausing him. "And Lucius? See that no more old school things of Voldemort's end up in the hands of Hogwarts students."
He issued no threats. He didn't need to.
Malfoy acknowledged the directive with only a curt glare, but its strength was diminished by the pallor that had yet to fade.
The sight of Dobby, however, reminded Harry of the debt he now owed the elf. Without Dobby's help, he might never have learned who was responsible for the diary.
But how to-?
His eyes turned to Malfoy's discarded cloak, still pinned to the wall by the length of Gryffindor's sword.
That… might work. A cloak's just another piece of clothing, right?
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